« Weekend Movies | Main | Screw this getting old crap »

Look what a little Google will get you.

It’s official. I am completely out of touch.

Sunday night, instead of attending the Portsmouth social event of the year, the Big Kids Prom, I was in bed by 10 p.m., exhausted from a physically grueling weekend of apple picking in Vermont and overeating at the home of my boyfriend’s parents.

As you may have noticed, it has been quite a struggle for me to post lately. I’ve gotten bogged down covering politics and local Maine news while at work, and when I’m off the clock, I have spent the last two months settling in to a new home and attending an endless litany of weddings and bridal showers.

Does this mean I am officially old? Have I lost my lust for life and adventure? Why do all my weekend commitments seem to revolve around matrimony and family obligations these days? Remember when it was movies and bands and drinking until dawn. I never do that anymore. As much as I miss that pained euphoria that occurs after an all night bender, there is a part of me that likes that I’ve become lame. Maybe that’s how I know I’m getting old.

That being said, I’m still pissed I missed the Big Kids Prom. Sorry Spam. I guess you’ll have to save my tiara until next year.