Turning 33

So tomorrow is my 33rd birthday. It's also St. Patrick's Day. Columbia throws a huge festival every year (http://www.stpatsinfivepoints.com/). Growing up I always looked forward to this festival, especially once I got into my teen years and then even more so when I was legal drinking age. Oh the stories I could tell about past festivals, they've gotten pretty wild.

So am I going to the festival this year? No. What am I doing? I'm going to the zoo with my family. And by family, I mean my WHOLE family. My sister, BIL, niece and my parents, as well as Donald and Ella. Everyone keeps asking me, "are you going to the festival?" and I keep saying "no", almost in an embarrassed way. Like I realize my birthday falls on one of the biggest party days of the year, but I'm not planning to party like the rest of the town. Why am I ashamed to admit that I'd rather spend my birthday with my family than with 30,000 drunk people I couldn't care less about? And yet I keep going back and forth. Should we go? My mother would babysit in a heartbeat, that's not an issue. Do I want to pay $10 a head to get in, then throw away a bunch of money on overpriced beer? Hell no.

When did I become this person? Was it motherhood? I'm sure there are plenty of mothers my age planning to attend the festival, why shouldn't I? I used to love a good party, especially this one because it's a great way to see people you haven't seen in years. But now I just can't be bothered. Who wants to waste all that money? Who wants to push through the crowds of drunk frat boys and obnoxious sorority girls? Who wants to park 10 miles away and take a shuttle bus to 5 Points? I sure as hell don't.

God, I'm getting old.