I am here to be honest: I have been injudiciously drunk before. (Mom, I know you are reading this, and I’m sorry.) I’ve had hangovers from hell — headaches that won’t stop and eyes so sensitive that turning on my desk lamp seems like a white dwarf supernova-ed right in my room. I, like so many college drinkers, have been stupid.

I’d like to think as a senior I have learned my lessons — I don’t drink as much or as frequently. What hasn’t changed, however, is that I still knock ‘em back in a completely college way — quickly and cheaply. Why continue to force your poor tongue to suffer the bitter aftertaste of malt liquor when you could get it over with all at once? Who needs bottled wine when four times as much comes in a bag for half the price?

While these questions seem rhetorical to me, to many, they are not. I can only imagine the beer-lover cringing over his dark lager and the wine connoisseur wincing at the thought of Franzia. I will soon be out of this college cocoon, however, left to flutter in the real world, where Margeurites don’t pick me up and drop me off at fun bars, drinks don’t come in red Solo cups and boat races are actual races between boats. When does our alcohol paradigm shift? When do we stop saying “I got drunk and made out with Alai,” and start saying “Alai, I brought you a versatile full-bodied Pinot Noir that will perfectly complement your mother’s Eritrean braised chicken”?

During this epoch of our lives, young and spry as we are, drinking is allowed — expected, if anything. Whether you sip a margarita occasionally or play Beirut every night, college and drinking go to together like the Facebook and stalking — once you are there, it just sort of happens. But I’ve gone to Vegas and seen the balding 40 year old who at noon is already sporting a foot-long margarita and a confused look, and I pity the poor soul for leading such a sad life. And then I go buy a foot-long margarita myself.

So, when is it ok for us to drink, and when are we too old?

Maybe the change happens organically and smoothly — our work schedules force us to go to bed early and wake up early. On Saturdays we have to go into the office to finish important and very pressing projects, and on Sunday mornings we play basketball in the local grown-up league. Our drinking naturally wanes until one day a co-worker chuckles and remembers playing Beirut, and suddenly you remember how back in the wild days of your youth, you used to drink alcohol.

Or perhaps the transition is jarring? Perhaps we cling to our old habits, the only way we know how to party. I envision myself, uncomfortable and self-conscious at an office party, sipping Martinelli’s and awkwardly laughing at stories my boss tells about his kids — they sure do say the darndest things. Afterwards, all the recent post-grads who are also trying to get their bearings in the social world of adults go to one guy’s apartment, drink beer and watch “The Daily Show,” making fun of the grown-ups and their quaint sobriety.

I think about this post-college drinking world and all those expensive cocktails at bars, and I wonder if it will still be OK to pre-party before going out...or does that make you cheap and so 22? I especially wonder about frat boys — yes, I just made a sweeping generalization — and all the rest of Stanford’s heavy drinkers. If you are ‘never an alcoholic as long as you are in college’ then what happens when one day in June you suddenly find yourself just an alcoholic? Do you just drop the habit? Or do you become the sad, too-drunk 40 year old?

I think it comes down to — and get ready for this never before heard of pearl of alcohol wisdom — understanding why we drink. We all know it skews our judgment, makes us irresponsible. But it also makes us relax, laugh more, socialize easier. Really, it is an accepted social crutch: something to do, a way to let loose, a get-out-of-jail free card we use to explain far too many things.

Maybe we undergo a drinking evolution because our lives undergo a revolution, and we really just end up not needing booze that much any more. Our grown-up lives don’t have as much room for drinking, and eventually we go to bars less, party less, drink less. With our nice jobs, we treat ourselves to nicer things — fancy clothes, better cars, less-disgusting alcohol. And bwammo, in the same way you realized you were drunk for the first time freshman year, you’ll hear a voice doling out wine and meal suggestions... and recognize it as your own.

Katie just learned that you are supposed to refrigerate white. If you have other tips you would like to pass along, email Katie at kttaylor@stanford.edu.