Ageing is the correct spelling. Look it up in the big-print dictionary.

This post goes out to Mike who suggested I write on my blog than party alone. Good advice as always.

I'm not sure what's happening to me but I'm pretty sure it's what they call 'aging' or 'ageing'. Apparently once you get old you've earned the right to put an 'e' and an 'i' together.

My skin isn't as...fresh looking, my knuckles and elbows get stiff in the cold and if I cross my legs for too long my knee hurts. I often find dark circles under my eyes and find...other things that shouldn't be appearing where they are.
And lastly...I've failed th pencil test. See Oprah.com.

Then tonight I'm with a bunch of old friends I've known since I was 14. They're all married, married-with-children, or talking about marriage with their partners. And then there was me.
Sitting by myself all dolled up for...who? Whom? Maybe once I hit 25 I can incorrectly use 'who' and 'whom'.
I feel like a prude sitting next to some of the younger girls there. I mean, how tight can my dress get before it's gross?
And it's winter!

I don't know what age it was when I started caring that I wore gloves, a hat, scarf, proper winter jacket (zipped up) and boots that were lined with Insulate. But that's what I care about now. I don't like exposing skin in temperatures below 10C.
It frightens me to think that soon I'll be avoiding going out all together because it will interupt my early mornings when I do my hair and eat my muslix.

I am ageing. And it scares me.

I told a friend that my skin was wrinkling and they asked if it was on my butt. I said "You can get wrinkles on your butt? I didn't even look there!" I am seriously distressed about that.

Even though it goes against every principle I have I'm starting to get a little panicky about still being single. I mean, I need to find someone...quickly! Before things get really out of hand. Pardon the pun.

Twenty-five is in 5 months. I need some serious training to prepare for that. I feel like after 25 I need to be an adult. No more ripped jeans, no more striped gloves that go to my elbows, no more big sunglasses from the Village, no more squealing when a friend tells me about a boy....well, no more of that because almost everyone I know is married.

I'm afraid to believe that I won't meet someone soon and in 15 years I'll find myself saying to some special guy 'Oh man, you should have SEEN me when I was 24.'