Old and Hip? Sadly, just old.

Folks, I have successfully lived through the weekend despite blizzards and hangovers. And here we are.
I was invited to a friend's 17th birthday party Sunday afternoon. Even though I was having the time of my life with the vacuum and mop, I decided to dust off my dancing shoes and join the celebration.
*Note*
I use the term "dancing shoes" loosely as I am not one who usually "cuts the rug" at dancing affairs. I dance when forced, i.e. two weeks ago at Chez Pierre, or when highly intoxicated (also 2 weeks ago at Chez Pierre.)
But I digress.
I suppose it's odd that I have a friend who just turned 17 given that I am now 30. To be fair, and not creepy, her mother and I are friends she she and I have become friends as a result. If I were a scientist, I would say that her mother is the catalyst in our relationship. As I am not, I will refer to her as "The Facilitator" for clarity's sake.
As I was getting ready I was struck with a horrifying thought – she and her friends would think of me as “one of the parents” at the party. Now that I am no longer in my twenties and certainly not in my teens, I have fallen into some sort of vague parental age regardless of offspring, husband or RRSP contribution limit. And, because I am still young, I can easily remember what it was like to be 17, to spend time with “adults”, to find them impediments to my sneaking off to smoke cigarettes and weed. Shit.
Oh man. Seized with panic, I tried to think of certain things I could say or do to seem hip and/or youthful.

1) Bust out some cigarettes and start smoking

2) Casually drop in, “I got so hammered last night I blacked out”

3) Swear a lot. Adults don’t say “Fuck”, right?

4) Offer to buy them beer

Then I realized that trying to be hip or cool (by doing lame things, I might add) would only make my stock plummet further. When did this happen? When did I become old enough to begin worrying about this kind of ridiculousness? I had never felt old until just then because, when I really thought about it, my lifestyle hasn’t changed that much from when I was 18. Sure, I can drink more (I would love to have a drinking contest with 18 year old me. I would annihilate her) and I’ve got more money. I’m also more educated and “street wise” than I was then thus giving me good material for drunk and/or stoned talk. But I still go to a lot of the same bars. And I’ve been known to drink too much….and smoke too much and make bad decisions. Which is what I did at 18 and still at 30. Oh dear.
So I guess there’s no answer to this one. Just be and don’t worry too much about acting your age. All those 17 year olds are trying to be older anyways.
I did have a good time at the party, although I hid in the kitchen for most of it since I didn’t know anyone. Perhaps that’s what drove me to cooking, a deliberate desire to flee the crowd. Most cooks I know are anti-social and awkward by nature thereby relying heavily on the drink to facilitate conversation.
Check in with me again in 10 years – hopefully I won’t be trying to impress a bunch of 30 year olds with my bong making abilities…..