I'm old??

Sometimes I wonder when it happened.

The "it" being got old.

I am sure it has been a gradual process, but I seriously woke up one day last week and just felt "IT".

I will say that there have been little signs along the way, I cannot deny.

For example, shopping in stores that I have no business being in:

I was at the mall and I got an urge...skinny jeans.  Now, I am sure that for some girls my age (34, ahem) they look great, but I will imagine that this is only the case if you are taller than me (I'm 5'2") and skinnier (yeah, right, like I'm gonna tell you that) AND if said skinny jeans are made with some sort of structure, properly designed for someone with "problem areas".

  HOWEVER I, of course, went into a store that flashes neon, where there are no "even" sizes and Euro-dance music was blaring from the speakers.  The "common sense" voice in the back of my head was telling me to turn around and go to the Gap, but I was on a skinny jean mission...it was going to work and I was going to be cute and hip. (stop laughing)

Now this store carries all super trendy clothes, clothes that you buy when you don't want to spend a bundle on "fit" and "material", knowing that next month they will be gone like Hammer pants.  Clothes priced to accommodate a babysitting budget...

 I raged on through the blaring techno music, and forged through the racks of stretchy, rayon-ey shirts.  You know those shirts that are so clingy they make your belly button look the Grand friggin' Canyon.  When did THAT happen?

Finally to the rack of skinny jeans that I knew were going to work despite all the signs that I had ignored.

Like Oprah says, listen to the little signs because if you don't, the universe is going to hit you like a ton of bricks.

Sign #76 ~ when I asked the girl for a dressing room and she looked around to see if my "daughter" was with me.  She then snickered...I didn't need her help to get into a dressing room because....wait for it...

 there were no doors. What the?!

No safe place?  It was like a gym room nightmare.  I had to risk the possibility that someone would see me trying to squeeze my thighs into these jeans.  (Sign # 125 ~ the store was empty, because it was a Tuesday morning and everyone who usually shops in this store was in Geometry class)

Onward I went.  It was going to happen.

Jeans around ankles, jeans around waist, Buttoned-up.

Mirror check.

uhhhh, I looked like an upside down triangle. 

Abort abort.

Mission failed.

Peel off jeans and get the hell out of this horrible store where youthful dreams go to die.

  I needed to go someplace safe, like Macy's or Ann Taylor.

Dude, when did I get old?

You see, it does happen gradually, but you realize it when you have skinny jeans pooled around your ankles, sitting on the floor of a dirty dressing room, sweat dripping off your brow, hoping the snarky sales-girl does NOT come back and see you stuck in jeans that you had no business trying on in the first place.

A ton of bricks.

Life lessons suck sometime.

Now, I don't mind 34, actually I am fine with it.  Turning 30 was totally cool for me. 

But I was asked to make these cookies for an acquaintance.  It's her birthday and she is turning 40.

I have realized that this is my group now...I have more friends in their 30's and 40's then 20's.  

 

It is a gradual shift, but I am there.  I accept it.

Dress cute, but please no leggings or Uggs with short skirts. 

 

  

So, I hope she has a great birthday and no offense in offhandedly calling her old ;)