22.

It's officially two days after my 22nd birthday. I'm feelin' old, friends.

I know, I know. It's silly, really. Twenty-two is really not that old.

But why do I feel old? Is it the fact that when 11 o'clock rolls around each night, I'm thinking it's time for bed? Or is it because for the past year and a half, my clothing taste automatically favors more items in the womens' section than juniors'?

...I think I might have it figured out. This is a big - I mean, huge - year for me. In two-and-a-half months, graduation. A month after that, marriage. One week after that (hopefully), moving into the first place Eric or I can call 'ours', and (hopefully) starting some great new jobs.

I'm ready for that crazy month chocked full of life changes. I literally can not wait for all of those things to happen. But I think that being "old enough" for all of those things to be in my life's equation is what makes me feel old, aside from having no birthdays to look forward to until I'm 30 - banking on the fact that I'll be excited about turning 30, and in somewhat of a shape.

Just my thoughts on turning 22. It felt a little weird. A benefit of my most recent birthday? Eric and I took one of thee best pictures we have ever taken (see below). Fo reals.