It’s the little things that make me feel old.  I know I’m not hip.  I don’t know if I ever was.  But I’ve come to the conclusion that you can spot my un-hipness a mile away.  It’s in the way I talk.  Its in the way I don’t wear my messenger bag across my body, but off my shoulder.  It’s my shoes.  My lack of hoodies.  My lack of hits on a Google search.  My wondering just what the hell she was thinking putting that on the web, not spreading my innermost thoughts across MySpace.  Wondering if that tattoo not only hurts, but what the hell is it and why would you get it pierced to boot.

My generation didn’t grow up with computers.  Hell, I helped my friend test out his brand new ISP BEFORE it was called ISP. Back in the dark days of mainframes and dial-up.  Today’s generation doesn’t even know what noise a modem makes…

Oh well this old fart, needs her beauty sleep.  It’s tiring being un-cool and un-hip.  🙂

Ciao