I’m pushing twenty-seven (My golden birthday is this year. 27 on 27th of August. That’s lucky, right? Did I make that up? I’m pretty sure it’s lucky.) I feel like I’m pushing 27. With the exception of Hart of Dixie and The Ringer (both of which center around 30 year old female leads), I can no longer watch The CW. I’m pretty much over watching teenagers – be it teenage vampires, teenage witches or rich teens.

I also find that I’m having a hard time clothes shopping. If I spend more than 28 seconds in Forever 21, I may end up standing in front of one of the (way too many) mirrors, crying because I’m lost and the music is too loud. And also, the lights. The lights in that store are so damn bright! Do I want to buy a t-shirt with a smart-looking owl on it? Yes, I do. Should I? I don’t know! I probably shouldn’t? I’ve become conflicted! I think I’m too old to buy shirts with cartoons and or animals. But they’re so cute.

I like to be in bed by 10. I like to eat dinner and watch my shows. I’d much rather drink at home with friends (or by myself. Don’t judge me) than waste money out at a crowded bar. When I go to the mall, my first step is to the Christmas Tree Shop, in hopes of finding a pretty picture to hang in our living room.

How do I REALLY know I’m old? Whenever I put on the radio. “I don’t know where you’re going or when you’re coming home. I left the keys under the mat to our front door … get your ass back home.” What? Is this what kids these days are listening to? Do teenage girls think its ok for a guy to just leave you hanging? And (as much as I not-so-secretly love her), how about Selena Gomez?  “There’s no way to describe what you do to me. You just do to me what you do.” Wow, Selena. You’re a lyrical genius.

And whenever I hear “We Are Young” by Fun (cool name, guys), all I can think of is this (hilarious) parody.

I’m a happily married home owner and I think I’m coming to terms with my age. Check back at the end of summer.

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