As many of you know, I celebrated a birthday this past weekend on the same day as my 20th HS reunion. Talk about a double whammie to make me realize I am no longer young. Really, I didn't realize it until this past weekend. But here is why I did.
- Jacob took the photo above a few days before my birthday, right after I had my hair cut and highlighted. I used to highlight my hair to be more blonde. Now I see the benefit of coloring to disguise grey hairs. The wrinkles are beginning around my eyes. Just WHO decided that laugh lines are ok? And the extra weight is a killer to get off - I may even resort to *gasp* a gym membership. And don't even get one of those skin analysis machines near my face. Let's just say that baby oil in the 80's was NOT a great idea in retrospect.
- I couldn't handle the smoke in the bar for more than two hours. I reeked and I noticed. Which brings me to the two beers I consumed in four hours. Fifteen years ago, that would not have been the same sentence about consumption of the alcoholic beverage of my choice. But then, I would not have been able to slap down $5.00 for a good beer. And did I mention that I was in bed by 12:30 am? I didn't even last to closing time.
- And lastly, a hostess at a restaurant in Punxsy asked me if I was looking for the reunion of 1966. WTH? Do I really look as though I could be 58?
So, as depressing as all of that may seem, I still don't feel old. I still have to kick myself into believing that I have a witty child, a great husband, a beautiful home and a job full of responsibilities. Somehow, I don't feel old enough to have such a wonderful life.