Hooray, the 90s party went off with nary a hitch.  Mr. Glib and I, six out-of-towners, and the city of Chicago at large seemed to survive our trip into a time of innocence and flannel. I had a great time staying up (way too) late, eating bad food, singing bad karaoke (what’s up, Destiny’s Child), and reflecting on the styling choices of one Brandon Walsh.  I was also, however, reminded of things left firmly in my own past.

Katy Perry, Ogden Nash, Jay-Z, and others may indeed be young forever, but I firmly accept that with age may not necessarily come better tastes or maturity, but will come a begrudging sense of responsibility that is supported by an enhanced desire for personal comfort and a decreased sense of patience.

On one legen…dary episode of How I Met Your Mother, the gang (who is incidentally supposed to be four years my junior) discussed their “Murtaugh List,” named after Danny Glover’s Lethal Weapon character who is prone to exclaim, “I’m getting too old for this sh*t.”  At 30, 35, and beyond, what have we outgrown?  For some of us (not me), it’s Taco Bell.  For others (also not me), it’s late bedtimes.  For me, it’s … well, these twelve things below, and a host of others.

12. Parties that include a keg of light/lite beer iced down in a bathtub. Even my youngster (25-ish) friends provide bottles and cans these days. We personally boast a kegerator, an unassuming refrigerated cabinet that houses two kegs of craft beers. Oh so classy.  And it doesn’t even need pumping.


11. Painful shoes when walking is on the agenda. I’ve invested in larger purses so that I can squirrel away tennis shoes or flip flops if I’m walking to a destination at which I’ll want heels.  I get there quicker and without blisters.  And who cares what I look like on the sidewalk outside, anyway?

10. NKOTBSB. Anyone – anyone! – in my high school graduating class knows how I loved the New Kids. I won’t get into how my obsession manifested itself. At 25 damn years old, I had a similar affection for the Backstreet Boys.  So you would think no one would be first in line for tickets to this nine-man monstrosity if not me. You would be wrong. I find the reunion touring a touch desperate, and while I applaud them for getting back out there to earn a living, they won’t be earning it from me.  Sorry, Joey Joe.  You’re still my favorite!

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