Day 10: How old is too old?

It's 1:30 on a Sunday afternoon. The blinds are drawn, my head is under the covers, there's an occassional moan that echoes through my apartment, either from me or the person in the same fetal position on my couch. No, I'm not in mourning. I'm hungover, and I swear I'm not drinking ever again.

Okay, that's a lie. I mean, how many times have we made that promise? We all know I'll drink again, but, seriously, am I too old to be drinking to the point I can't get out of bed the next day? When it's all going down the hatch, it really doesn't seem like that much. But, when I have flashbacks to solo dances without music, tripping over non-existent steps, and making french fries at 3 in the morning, I cringe at my apparent inability to cut myself off. And let's be honest, I ultimately end up having a freaking fabulous time, despite putting my body through the ringer. I mean, it's not like I'm alone in my adventures, oh lovely friends of mine, we're all guilty of some crazy shenanigans when the cocktails start flowing. But, holy crap do we laugh, both while sipping and the during the next day recap! So, as I approach the big 3-0 mark, I find myself wondering if it's time to leave the bar stool dances behind in my 20s? It's likely the responsible thing to do, and there's nothing wrong with keeping my awesome moves to a dance floor... but do I really have to give up the all the crazy? How old is too old? I'm thinking so long as I keep it a minimum, and I'm not embarassing any children, I'm good to go...