21 year olds don't lie...

This weekend I attended my baby brother's 21st birthday libations at his amazingly grown-up apartment in Berkeley. There was a hookah, tequila shots and a jug of Carlo Rossi Sangria. The best part of the evening was when several of brother's friends made me show them my ID because they didn't believe that a) I was M's oldest sister and b) that I was so not 17. There was also a scenic drive round east oakland searching for a taco truck. Also, pretty sure I was on drunk dial duty, as usual. apologies to those who received enlightened phone calls at 3 am (or later)