It’s Saturday night. About 9.30pm. I’m all dressed up – make up like I should be on TV, hair in curls, a dress, tights, the works.

And I just got home.

Yes, home. From my night out. As in, I got ready at 5pm, went to the function and now I am home. Lot’s of people won’t see anything wrong with this. Lot’s will actually think this is a really good night out with the added bonus of being home and in bed at a reasonable hour. For me though, not so much.

Tonight’s event was a 30th birthday for a close friend’s husband. They have children, their friends have children, and a BBQ at home was a lovely way to celebrate his birthday. It was a great night, we laughed and chatted with friends of friends, enjoyed some fabulous homemade cakes and salads (not together) and were able to have a drink and still get home in one piece. If I am honest, its really quite nice to be able to take off the heels at such an early hour and sit on the couch (Hitch just started) wrapped in a blanket.
 

While reminiscing with my girlfriends tonight, I began to think about when we were 16 and could sit outside all night on a cold May evening, probably wearing significantly less that we were all wearing tonight now that we are grown up and ‘sensible’. We could talk for hours about the most random of things, we drank much less than we do now (or at least I did) and yet the cold was never something that bothered us.

I have decided that youth kept us warm. At 26, I have decided I am officially old. I spent today shopping, where I decided that I don’t think I can ‘do’ shopping malls anymore. There are too many children, too many teenagers, too many clothes Made in China. I love the family atmosphere of a BBQ, but I have decided I like the city nightlife and bar scene better. I have decided being single ain’t all bad and I should be grateful for an early night in.

I prefer quiet (or, relatively quiet) city laneways to shop in, sipping latte’s by the lake at brunch and bespoke Australian designer clothing. I want Saturday night dinners with fine wines and open fireplaces. I love kids – but I love the ones I can give back more.

So my night in starts now and will see me in my PJs on my parents couch, dolled up in layers of mascara and hairspray, wrapped in a chenille blanket and relishing the quiet, the warmth and the painlessness of my feet.