... advancing years

This weekend I was forced to ask myself a tough question: am I becoming an old fart?

I met up with a couple work people for someone's birthday on Friday, and my first thought as we enter the bar was, 'oh this music is so loud!' and then 'gee, I hope it doesn't get too crowded in here,' followed by 'will this margarita give me a headache later on?' Granted, I've not been feeling too well lately (I thought I'd kicked this cold but my supply of neon-colored snot has replenished itself!), and Fridays are usually my sit-home-and-veg nights (aka 'Old Lady Nights')... but now it seems like I'm never really up for going out like I used to; every night has become Old Lady Night : (

I think that the reason I am no longer keen on the NYC bar scene is because I'm no longer willing to assume the required position: getting completely hammered. How else could it be considered 'fun' to shout at your friends while only inches apart, politely (yet dismissively) smile and nod at all the losers that hit on you, or answer the 'butt or croch' question over and over again while you shuffle through a sea of yuppies to go to the bathroom, or to answer your cell phone, or to purchase yet another overpriced drink.

Yikes, I sound so bitter. But seriously, part of me is very happy about this change; I no longer see the joy in getting overly buzzed, and my liver loves me for this. I guess this is just one of the warning signs that I've officially entered adulthood!