You Know You're At That Age When...

So as you readers may or may not have noticed there’s been a dearth of sex topic posts on here.  That is mostly due to my complete lack of dating life, hence no opportunity to recant any ridiculous exploits as a single city gal.  Like most girls growing up, Disney taught me that my 20’s would bring some prince charming type riding into my life to whisk me off my feet and make me forget that I have 8 million dollars of student loan debt.  Of course, unless your name is Kate Middleton, that’s never going to happen.  This hasn’t really bothered me until another single friend of mine pointed out a very disturbing fact…we are getting too old for this shit. 

That’s right.  If you’ve been out of college for 3 or more years you’re getting to “that age.” That age where, if your family’s like mine, you’re starting to get dirty looks from your parents every time they see a little kid and hear endless muttering about “wishing for grandchildren.”  That age where you make fun of all the people changing their facebook status to “engaged” but also die a little inside every time because it makes you wonder if you’re doing life wrong.   That age where you’re finally getting established in your career and can start affording the good beer instead of drinking the half priced well shit, but the number of friends that used to do happy hour is slowly dwindling. As this friend also pointed out, we, meaning women, aren’t getting any younger.  We’re slowly moving into that almost-to-old-to-be-fun category only to be replaced by a new generation of hot (and now legal aged) college girls. For men, you’re getting to that age where excuses like “I don’t know how to do laundry” are starting to look pathetic.  I don’t know about the rest of you, but since I hit my 18^th birthday my focus has been having as much fun as I possibly can while I’m still young.  But lately, squeezing out my last few years living the “young, wild and free” lifestyle has gotten a bit harder, and is becoming a bit more lackluster.

I’m writing about this because it’s been frequenting my “girl talk” conversations of late.  Usually these conversations are while we’re nursing our hangovers with coffee at some random diner and saying “what the hell are we doing with our lives?”  The conversation inevitably ends with someone panicking that they’re going to end up like the chicks on the Bachelor: beautiful, successful, and completely bat-shit crazy because they can’t find a husband.  Well to this I say: fuck it.  That’s right, fuck it.  Who cares that we’re getting older? Who cares that we act like alcoholics on the weekend and then drag our asses to work on Monday in some semblance of being an adult? Is it getting harder? Sure, but we’re not dead yet.  Maybe there are some of us that haven’t completely figured life out yet.  And for all the girls I’ve talked to in the past couple weeks, I too understand that coming home alone at the end of the night by yourself to order dominos isn’t exactly our ideal fairytale ending.  But hey, neither is being locked up in a tower am I right? So if I’m still sitting here blogging about drunken nights in 5 years…well yea then I’ll really start to panic and seriously consider buying 9 cats.  But for now, I’m going to celebrate the fact that I’m just starting to really figure out who am I and what I want in life, and try to enjoy the ride while I still can.  Disney princess movies may have fucked a lot of us girls up in some ways, but in some strange, twisted ideal I still hang on to that hope that one day things are going to work out.

Ok, that was my only long and depressing post for this month.  I’m sure some of you guys are saying “she’s moving into the bat shit crazy category” but I’m pretty positive most of the ladies will get what I’m saying.  Either way keep sending your sex topic questions and stories so I can get back to writing about what I know best!