Can it be?

When I turned 2, my parents thought I was getting too old to use a binky. And apparently, I agreed, because I didn't put up a fight. Or so legend has it.

When I turned 10, I thought I was getting too old for curly perms (until I turned 19, and thought a "hair wave" for a trip to Italy would be tres chic, but that's another story).

When I turned 16, I thought I was too old for church dances.

And now at 22, I think I am getting too old for three consecutive nights of fun in Vegas.

Did I really just say that?

Too old?

Well, when I came home with a head cold the size of America's budget deficit (it made it's evil return from one week prior), and fatigue that couldn't be satiated by a straight 24 hour rest (I'm just guesstimating here), I realized....

Yes.

I might just be too old for this.

I'm definitely not complaining. I had a fantastic time spent by the pool under a 75 degree sun, with long time girlfriends at my side, eating sushi and drinking mojitos by day, and rockin' dance clubs and Denny's breakfast by night.

Great memories were made. And there's a quote I like that says this....

And I definitely like looking back at this past weekend. And with a plethora of pictures snapped over 72 hours, it sure makes it easy to wax nostalgic.

Still...

when DayQuil is the only thing pushing me through this first day of my work week, I think it's safe to say,

that, yes, indeed,

I am getting too old for a 3 day crusade.

But... I don't think I heard anybody discount aging bodies taking it to the mattresses 2 nights in a row....

Sweet.