Following my last post….As promised I sat and wrapped presents. After an hour or so crunched over on my hardwood floors it hit me that uncrunching myself was a bit of a task. I realize that if my blog had an eye roll counter it would reach its high on this one. No, I’m not claiming to be “old” because even with my less than average math skills I could tell you it just wouldn’t add up. But there are a few things I’ve come to realize will most definitely not get easier in the coming years.
I’ll start with the most obvious. Sleeping on floors. No, lets make this more general. Sleeping in any position or surface that isn’t “your” bed. Let’s rewind to the glory days….say 6-8 years old. There was no wrong angle, blanket or area to lay your sleepy head. I was a contortionist as far as I was concerned. Half on the couch, half off, snuggled up with a rug using my Barbie kaboodle as a pillow. Best sleep I’ve ever had. Today….get me the highest thread count sheets, temperature controlled room, down pillow and a plush pillow top matress and maybe I’ll get some shut eye. Maybe. Okay both of those were lies but you get the idea.
Cute shoes. You know the ones I’m talking about. Black, stilleto heels with just the right height to make you wanna…..die. I realize I may have just described a stripper shoe but if you’ve seen a high heel today, it’s basically the same thing. I have this internal debate every time I set foot into a shoe store. Resonable Kelsey says, “let’s be smart, let’s get some ugly as sin loafers that ride like a Cadillac.” Irrational Kelsey is like a young, Golden Retriever in a ball pit. Drool and all. A week of trying to break in the new shoes and I’m broken. Physically uncapable of maintaining a normal, professional gate. But. They’re. So. Cute.
Shots. Fruity drinks. All the slippery, bomb shooting, Chuck Norris, Scooby Snack grossness will never become easier to drink. As you transition from party animal to civilization you know your drink preference and you’ll be sorry if you don’t stick to it. As hangovers creep from a one day duration to the dreaded two day hangover you’ll shift your gears sooner rather than later.
Dancing. By all means if you’ve got moves don’t be afraid to show it. I like seeing a couple float around the dance floor to a good two step. The kind of dancing I’m talking about is the one where you need to keep up with the times. In high school it was just the beginning of all the inappropriate dancing. Shaking our tail feathers, dropping it low to the window and to the wall was all the craze. We were the “cool” kids. Put me in a big city bar with all these “with it” people….I’m completely without it. I’ve lost “it,” I can’t find it and I have a feeling it’s not coming back…ever.
Slang. Oh the horrid slang. I’m a pretty big fan of using complete words. Maybe they’re teaching an evolved acronym or initialism class in school I’m not aware of? With all the “dis,” “dat,” and “doe” it’s hard to deny our entire population is starting to sound like a bad Norwegian accent. HA, when I put it that way maybe I like all those silly words! At the point kids start saying turdy instead of thirty, then, and only then will I be truly entertained.
I could go on and on but for your sake I won’t. With every passing year something surfaces I have yet to notice about age. Thankfully I have many more years of education ahead of me and I’m okay with that. In fact, I’m a little excited about it.
Just because it’s not as it used to be doesn’t mean its a bad thing.