My best was 21, my worst was 19. When I turned 21, it was also the first day all my friends were back on campus, so we all went out for cheap Mexican and saw Snakes on a Plane. It was awesome.
When I turned 18, I’d just gotten to college and didn’t really know anyone. My hall planned a double-birthday celebration for me and another girl on my hall. They forgot me.
Worse, however, was when I turned 19, had lots of friends, and they all totally forgot. Well, not quite. My roommate had to dash home for something and her boyfriend distracted her so that she couldn’t make it back in time for our planned going out to dinner to celebrate. And no one else remembered. So I was going to go on a donut run with another group of friends to celebrate someone going abroad, but then they left without me. It kind of blew since I was a third of the team that planned all their birthday parties. Even the other teammates forgot! Um, so then after I pouted for like a week, they had a party for me which was miserable because while it was bad enough that they forgot, the “oops we forgot!” party was just… worse. It felt like they were doing it way more because I pouted at them than because they actually cared. Which was probably true.