I don’t know about you, but I love big city night life. I always thought that if I hadn’t had kids at such a young age, I would have moved to New York and been part of the sleep all day, up all night atmosphere of the “new adult” experience. Now I’m 34 and there’s no “newness” to the adult in me and nothing I can do to erase the hands of time. I’m officially a “ma’am” and I think that bugs me above all else. Mostly because I feel so young at heart. I’m still that teenager who yearns to party, who listens to techno and if I could still pull off my knee-high boots and tiny skirts, I’d sure as hell be wearing them. I’d put two 12’s in my trunk and listen to the bass thud as I drove down the street. I’d text & twitter and selfie with the best of them.
What about you? Does this inspire a story? or does it call to the inner party person within just waiting for a night out on the town? ….