I'm officially fucking old.


I will preface this all by saying that I have never at any time in my life been anything resembling cool, popular or even "with-it" (as my mother would say).

Nonetheless, the indicators are starting to pile up:

• I had to search the archives of my own blog to see if I'd ranted about feeling old before. Ranting + ranting about being old + forgetting whether you've previously ranted about being old = yer old. Get those damned kids off my lawn!
• I find myself occasionally using expressions that my mother does (see above). If this were a parenting thing at least it would make some sense. However, so far I've been able to maintain some originality the the realm of "things I say to my kid 50 times a day". I'll make my own parenting cliches thank you very much.
• This is the first year I'm confident that I haven't seen (or even heard of) any of the movies nominated for an Academy Award. I'm sure they're all shit anyway since nothing good has come out of Hollywood in the last 10-15 (20?) years but it's a still tad disconcerting.
• I was in a mall the other day for an hour. The full-force of the consumer-assault-on-the-senses left me feeling disoriented and depressed for days. I used to only feel that way in clubs or casinos. Or arcades. Or change rooms in mall stores. Or mall stores with loud music. Wait, maybe this is just a personality thing and not a sign of aging.
  
• Bruno Mars? Who the hell is Bruno Mars? And what kind of name is that anyway?
• Can someone explain to me explain to me what happened to La Senza? They used to carry my favourite go-to ginch: cute, flattering, comfortable. Apparently, according to the marketers at La Senza, kids these days are all about ethnic-nylon-neon-leopard-BDSM. It would be fascinating if it wasn't so scary. More importantly: where the hell am I supposed to buy underwear now?

I've come to realize that the most clinically-significant symptom of my elderly status is, that for the most part, I really don't care that I'm not 20 and/or "cool". At first I thought that this was a wonderful sign that I was getting more confident with age but now I'm starting to get paranoid that I'm actually just experiencing the first stages of dementia.

Anyone need me to pick up some lemons next time I'm at the store?

It's a good thing I like citrus with my gin-and-tonic.