Thank you for asking the question.
I’m too old to go camping.
I’ve never enjoyed it - the sleeping bag on the hard ground, pitching a tent, cooking over a fire- yuk. It’s not so much about not having electricity for my blow dryer as having the general level of discomfort outweigh any benefit of being out in the woods.
I won’t do it any more.
I’ve moved house nearly thirty times. Finally, I got settled down with a suburban house, woman, mortgage, lawnmower, car, etc. When I helped the removalists cart my stuff in last year, I rejoiced in never having to move again - not for a long time, anyway. No more landlords, no more not being able to hammer a nail , no more hiding my cats…
My relationship imploded last month. I’m living out of a suitcase, and moving into a flat next week, using a friend’s borrowed pickup truck.
I’m to old for that shit (35)
About five years ago, I decided I was too old for the big crowds of concerts, etc.
If it were a quiet bar with intelligent people engaged in interesting conversation, I could see it. But for every one of those there’s 300 that are too loud to converse, even by shouting. I’m definitely too old for loud bars.
So how you doin’? 
I’m too old (34) to wear ratty, torn up, holey jeans. Unfortunately, that’s most my jeans.
I’m to old for arena-sized concerts. 3000 seats or less, please.
I’m too old for some of my pothead friends.
Drinking contests. :rolleyes:
I’m 40 and I’m too old for…
skateboarding - stopped after my second dislocated shoulder in 4 months
all ages shows - got sick of people thinking I was a parent or a narc
dating crazy ladies - the sex was usually great… the psycho freakouts, not so much
bar tequila - I think I’ve finally learned my lesson
loud cacophonous dissonant music - I can take each singly, but not all together
45 year old woman here.
I am too old for the whole bar scene. I never really enjoyed it all that much , but by this point in my life , I would really rather stay home and drink a couple beers and watch a movie.
I am too old (and arthritic) to show my own dogs. If I had a small breed that I could just walk with , yeah , I could do it(and yes, I have the Papillons, but neither of mine are show quality 
) but there is no way in hell I could keep up with a Gordon Setter moving like a freight train.
I am too old (and arthritic , again :() to have another horse. Even thinking about spending several hours on a trail ride makes my lower back hurt. And I got the arthritis in my spine in the first place from a riding accident.
I am too old to find humor in teen fuck-flicks anymore. Bathroom humor and teen screwing just don’t cut it for me anymore.
I’ll be 44 in a couple of weeks, and have determined that I’m too old to put up with a lot of crap. Just a few:
Heels over about an inch. I don’t care if they make my legs look good, they hurt. Give me my Birkies and leave me alone!
Loud bars and restaurants. All that activity, esp. places where TVs are blaring every sport known to humanity. I came to eat and talk, not watch TV, I can do that at home for free.
Ditto on the concerts. The hassle of parking, walking, being herded in and out. I’ve always hated crowds, but put up with it. Now, I don’t have the time, money or patience for it.
During labor with my 4th child, instead of swearing at my husband, or hitting people who came within reach, or anything like that, I distinctly remember groaning over and over, “I’m tooooo old for this!”
I spent the afternoon watching my 93 year old grandfather come to grips he’s too old to live alone.
He outlived his wife of 50 years by 20 years.
I’m just barely a third of the way past that at 35. There’s a LOT of time left…a lot of time for time to turn my ‘in pretty good shape’ body into what I saw when he changed out of the hospital gown into his shirt to come home.
The we realized, as he lost his balance, that home was probably not the best place for him right now.
As I gave him a sqwooge and told him I loved him, I could clearly hear his Great Grandkids telling me they loved me. For the next little bit, there are still four generations of Millers.
And life’s too short to worry about what you’re too old for.
Crap, I don’t want to make this thread a downer, carry on.
Oh yah! Swore off pantyhose years ago too.
does the birkie sisterhood dance
I’m too old to be the parent of a teen-ager again.
And I’m not.
But in three more years I will be. And if I’m too old now …
- :eek: *
Me too. Sitting in a loud, poorly lighted place, fending off lounge lizards and trying to act like I’m having fun holds no attraction at all.
I’m 39, BTW.
I am also way too old for office politics. I just don’t care. The backstabbing, the little alliances and grudges, the whole who’s sleeping with who rumor mill… gah. Leave me out of it.
Get back on that horse, soldier!!
I’m too old to wear my sweater on backwards by accident, without people thinking I’m retarded. :smack:
I’m too old to have the mentality I do. I’m a big dumb kid in many respects. And my emotionally-mature, graceful wife is older than I am. Go figure.
What certainly I can’t do anymore is drink/drug like a 20-year old. A fairly recent party reminded me of this in no uncertain terms. The mind is occasionally willing, but the body is undeniably weaker than it was. No, no, no, no, I don’t do it no more…
I’m too old to be sleeping in the same damn bed I got when I was 9. My feet hang out the bottom sometimes, and it’s a single bed. I’m 24.
But I’m also too young to have a spare 3 or 4 grand sitting around so I can kit myself up with a king-size from Freedom Furniture. So the bed will have to wait.
As a guy, I have to say that, in retrospaect, I could have written an almost identical post (with appropriate gender reversals, of course). Well, except for the child-bearing bit…
Of course it took a better person than I in order actually to come up with the words to say it!
Just wanted to say how true it all is… how difficult to put in words, and how obvioius when the words are read.
Welcome to the Boards, bright one