This day was unavoidable.

But opening my eyes this weekend '30' was there blasting the ugly wake-up call of old age.

I was determined to go about my day as though none of this aging business was upon me.
Playing hookie from work, I went out and got some ridiculously decadent coffee and decided to do some Goodwilling.

But it was there between the racks skirting the edge of the shadows panting and snarling with bloodshot eyes.
 
I hoped doing something productive like grocery shopping would take my mind off of this loathsome stalker.
Yet while buying wine at the grocery store the 80 year old cashier smirked as she handled my license.
  
    "Well, you're older than I thought", the blue-black bouffant punctuated the word older.

Whether it was the whole bottle of wine or the old age, I was pleasantly surprised to end my day with dinner at my favorite eclectic seafood restaurant.

But amidst cheesy photo ops and smoked fish dip, I received the kiss of death...
Nestled among the fanfare and well-wishes was a birthday card from my arch-nemesis.

The card spared no gentleness in emblazoning my place in the sordid caste system of the craft world.  

    "I'll assume you spent your day cross-stitching as now you are old"

I was trapped and unable to look away any longer - adulthood had me firmly in it's clutches.I suppose it was a fair and easily afforded revenge after last year's Munny decapitation cake but the stark sentiment sucker-punched me.
 
With no exit, begrudgingly I take my scarlet lettered sweatshirt of old-age craftiness.  I leave behind the lanyard bracelets and baby-food jar snow globes of childhood craftiness in search of ladies' auxiliary craft shows and spoon cozies. 

There is nothing to be done other than to grab my Maxine mug and start plotting my nemesis's next insultingly bad birthday gift.