24.

I love a three day weekend. Even though I'm already in my pajamas, I enjoy the fact that I have the option of going out later & not feeling guilty about it in the morning. Ahhhh, the weekend. The fact that I can barely remember what I did yesterday is definitely a reflection on how my weekend went.

It started off with my girlfriend and I meeting a few other friends at Grooves Restaurant & Lounge. The last time we came here it literally took us days to recover, so we planned on being well-behaved this go round. We were, for the most part. After devouring our food, and indulging in a few adult beverages we were able to get wild loosen up a bit. We danced, laughed and mingled with the growing crowd. And then it happened. A conversation I am becoming oh too familiar with whenever I am approached by anyone, how old are you..... My friends and I all spotted him when he came in. I assumed he was younger, because it appears these days all of the men in our age group are at home with their wives on the weekends. Not that I am by any means old, but this is the South. If you are over the age of 25 you are either married, in a serious relationship or a man-whore single for a reason. It is very rare that I run into men out and about who are 30 and above, and unattached. But I digress.

So, of course I strategically position myself in an easily approachable position because of course no guy is going to come over to say hello if you're hidden on the couch nestled in between three of your girlfriends, in most instances. Anyways... We began to talk, and he asks how old I am. I respond back with how old do I look? He says 23, 24. I laugh and tell him to add about 8 years. Insert look of dismay. I ask how old he is, and then he says "24." Literally every man I have met since my ex and I broke up has been under the age of 25. It appears during my trip to Alabama last January, I sipped from the fountain of youth. Either I came back looking younger, or something made the younger guys all of a sudden want to approach me. I'm not sure how I feel about this, but I guess such is life. I don't think at 32 I'm old enough to be a cougar. Puma maybe? Jaguar? I dunno, but moving along........

After we left Grooves, we headed waaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyy across town to attend a party hosted by a trail-riding club called the Wolfpack. It was everything I imagined it to be. Cowboy boots, liquor, and good times. The party was BYOB, and they had a Zydeco band playing. It was a lot of fun, but being the old lady at heart that I am I was ready to head home around midnight.

I seriously can't remember my Saturday, and I slept in this morning. I probably would have slept all day had my friend not sent me a text message around 10 am. We decided to try out a new spot for brunch, and it was great! They had 99 cent mimosas, and super delicious Belgian waffles with almond butter & applewood bacon. The venue was really nice, and it was not crowded at all like the majority of other popular brunch spots in the city. The prices were also very reasonable!

After brunch, we went thrift shopping at Buffalo Exchange & found a few cute items. We tried to go watch football at a local sports bar but it was entirely too crowded, so we decided to just call it a day... I enjoyed my Sunday Funday and I have no problem spending the remainder of my night with Olivia Benson, Elliott Stabler & company. I'm off work tomorrow, but plan to spend the day being productive.

What age determines cougar status? How young is too young? I say as long as you are older than my nephew then it's fair game... But then again, do twenty-somethings have much in common with professional women my age? I guess if it works for Gabrielle Union (well, that's another story) could it work for my friends and I as well?