As you may be able to imagine, there are a lot of strange things about being a teenage graduate student in Boston.

The most obvious is that despite my degrees I can’t go out and drink.  Honestly, I don’t mind that much.  I like having wine at home better than going out anyway.  But I have a bone to pick with whoever came up with the system of age restrictions in the USA.

Who had the brilliant idea to make it legal to see boobs before it’s legal to drink booze?

Having moved in with two drag kings, one of whom is a raunchy comedian while the other is a talented burlesque dancer, I’ve seen my fair share of weird shit.  Both on stage and in my living room.  I’ve been going to burlesque and drag shows since I moved to Boston although I still have yet to buy a drink.

Every time I get stamped and bound up by the people at the door of these shows I get a little more amazed by my strange culture.  I’ve been to see the Slutcracker twice now, an incredible show that replaces the dutiful Nutcracker with a bright pink dildo.  I’ve also seen more boobs twirling around stages than I can count.  And yet it’s still illegal for me to buy a beer.

Now this isn’t just another angry teenager who wishes she could get drunk.  This is a graduate student wishing she could spend time with people in her program or people from her job.  My biggest problem is that most of the places where my friends from work and graduate school socialize are 21+.  I couldn’t see my land lady’s band perform or go to my friend’s open mic along with countless other harmless activities simply because of my age.

And don’t get me started about how the drinking age creates a culture of rule-breaking that is fondly remembered by most adults.  Personally, I was raised in what my dad called the “French” approach to alcohol.  I’ve been able to have a glass of wine with dinner since I was about 11.  The idea was that if I drank good alcohol in a good environment I wouldn’t be tempted to binge drink crap later in life.

The idea worked.

There’s another year and a half left before I stop being “underage.”  By then I’ll be a year out of my master’s program and I’ll have been living completely on my own, supporting myself, for three years.  A big part of me is itching to learn burlesque because you know what else is legal before booze?  You guessed it.  Being a burlesque dancer.