Friday evening I went out. My first instinct was to stay in…in and as far away from human beings as possible, I was on a soapbox called PMS. But after a few delicious beverages at home, and inspiration from the musical Rent I called my cousin and traveled down the streets of Allentown.

The first stranger in my path was a 42 year old divorced man. Quite chatty about this and that and entertaining (he thought I was 21 and was SHOCKED to hear the truth…hmmm) all was well until I heard those words “I don’t vote.” Alright, one does not *need* to vote to carry on a conversation with me, but surely you have no right to bitch if you have NEVER voted. End of that conversation, new bar.

I’m now at one of my most favorite places in town. A hole in the wall and somewhat dark and seedy, but charming. I sit at the stool, looking sassy , intelligent and eclectic and checking out the many different types of men with glasses in this establishment. Punk, preppy, nerdy, scary…they’re all there. Much to my dismay Mr. 20-20 next to me starts talking. Yeah. He’s never been to this bar before, blah blah blah, his friends usually hang out on Chippewa (this is obvious.) Ok. I’m bored. His friends come around and now I feel like I’m at work. These boys are soooooooooooooooo boys. They all work at a store at the mall, they’re trying to talk all “up in this and that” crap, which I call them on. Like I said I feel like I’m at work, they couldn’t be more than 20. And they too are shocked that I was born in 1973 (this does ADMIT the age…) However, I think it’s because they think they could get lucky with a sassy woman who is looking fine. Ha ha ha haha haaaaa. Entertaining in a pathetic, ugly stray dog way. Conversation ends. I feel old, and proud to be old, and go home.

Saturday morning I decide to go shopping. I want to head to IKEA, but I have no cash available to make it over the bridge to Canada. (I refused to let either group of said Y chromosomes purchase anything for me, dumb? Maybe but I really did NOT want to imply ANYTHING…I was out to lure myself away from the joys that I have found with my very own cable television—besides Queer Eye was already finished for the night.) I find myself at the Galleria instead. And this is where it gets crazy…

I’m walking through the mall and for the first time, ok, not quite first time EVER, but surely the first time in a *tangible* kinda way…I’m thinking how much I want to be the adult Jen. How much I want to find (be?) with that certain forever someone who I can stay at home and cozy up to on a Friday night instead of finding random conversation on the street (although I do expect to still do that when with someone…) Aside: I was influenced by Martina McBride in the car ride “Safe in the Arms of Love” Yep. I was walking around the mall, checking out Williams and Sonoma and Pottery Barn Baby and Kids and really really longing for my penguin. (Another aside: Penguin, aka *The One* after all, penguins mate for life…) Scary scary scary thoughts running through my head about endless possibilities after law school. Domestic Jen ready to play house. I hear Trista telling Ryan “I see babies and grandbabies and I see them with you.” I’m even thinking, house with lawn.YIKES!!!

THANKFULLY the lure of Victoria’s Secret led me away from the kitchen mixers…and the way too cute children’s furnishings. While shopping for skivvies I came across a lovely woman and her daughter. A perfect image of what I was JUST 2 minutes ago desiring to begin myself in a quaint little town where I can have a garden and little girls wearing dresses and pigtails and skinned knees…until the little 10 year old girl, dressed like a mini Jen out on the town, opened her mouth. “Mother, you need one more pair. Remember you didn’t like the bikini low rise. Have these, I like these better because they provide more coverage.” This little girl, talked as if she had YEARS of experience with the 5 for $20 sale!!! She was so tiny that I can’t believe she even fits into the clothes! (AND SHE SHOULDN’T SHE IS TEN!!! This ain’t no Abercrombie Jrs!!!!) If I’m L, she’s an XXXXS. At the checkout (I could not escape them!) The mother starts asking the cashier about college scholarships for her daughter. I do believe the conversation stemmed from the fact that the lady was from Bradford, PA and the cashier had a friend who went to school there. After they left, the cashier looked at me and smiled and said “How about that mom and daughter! Did you hear how they were talking!!!” Too much. And with one fell swoop, I was happy to be the Jen who would spend too much money on yet another Kandinsky poster for the apartment, a funky striped purse, lounge singer CD collection and a few other items at the Eddie Bauer Outlet.