I've gotten old

Today is my birthday and to be honest I was actually dreading it. I mean after all who wants to admit they are growing older? I feel older than dirt already. I've been asked if dinosaurs were on the ark, how long did it take to walk across the world before the continental drift, what songs were sung at Methuselah's funeral...you know, the things that make someone feel really good about their age.

I hate the idea of getting older. I still love racing down the highway, windows down rock music blasting from the speakers. I still love going out for a night on the town...as long as we're back by 1 a.m. My best friend and I still do sleep overs. Of course I'm usually passed out cold by 1 or 2. What happened to the ability to get up on Thursday morning and spend every day shopping and bumming around and every night partying, never going to be bed before Sunday night?

When did going to a girl's night poker game turn into a full night discussion of illnesses, kids, who died when, husbands, and even possible retirement plans?

When was that sexy 20 something replaced by a middle aged woman desperate to cover her gray hairs and figure out the best wrinkle remover?

How did a spur of the moment trip go from grabbing a small duffle with a change of clothes change to suddenly needing a suitcase to hold my clothes but also daily medication, arthritis cream, vitamins, glasses case, extra socks for those cold flashes and a small fan for the night sweats?

Sometime the dream of a flashy new car that could do 0-80 in seconds, convertible sports model suddenly morphed into what got the best gas mileage and could comfortably carry a family of four, all their suitcases and a trio of neurotic dogs.

I know the alternative to aging is death, but why did it happen so fast?

I had always promised myself even though I had to grow older I'd be like Peter Pan and never grow up.

Then it happened:

My best friend and I went shopping one night and while we were out we came across a display of dozens of those little animated things. You know the ones, stuffed animal things and you push a button then they promptly begin to dance and sing. Well she turns to me with a devilish gleam in her eye and says, "wanna know how to piss people off?" she proceeded to press every button on every one of the little things.

A few years ago I'd have been laughing maniacally and pressing them right along with her. This time I followed behind her calmly repressing the buttons to turn off the noise. It hit me hard and cold: I've actually grown up. When did this happen?

I'd post pictures I took from my trip this past weekend, but I feel like I need a nap first.