stilettos to couch potatos

When is it that you morph from being someone who dresses up and goes out every night with your friends to a homebody who sits on the couch every night, with your socked feet on the coffee table, watching sex and the city reruns you've already seen?

I was asking myself this question last night as I was sitting on the couch with my socked feet up on the coffee table, simultaneously flipping through Martha Stewart Magazine, talking online and watching tv. And I started to feel restless. The cold weather made me think of what I was doing during the winter last year.. about pulling on one of my cashmere sweaters, putting on my pointy-toed stilettos and chandelier earrings and would head out to Innisfree or Catch or Wilhagens. I didn't have a boyfriend, but for the first time in my life, at this time last year, I was dating around. Or at least "talking"... To three different guys. Things were fresh and new and exciting with my job, my house and life in general.

And, so I wondered what had happened to transform myself from stillettos to socks. Had I lost something or gotten so comfortable in my relationship status that I had lost my love of dressing up and going out for drinks? No. I couldn't have.

Truth is, while my life was exciting and new at this time last year, it was horribly unsteady and I was unsure of everything. I was dating three guys, none of which I knew would last until the spring. Now, well, it's amazing how things can change in 12 months. I'm sure of my path in life and happy. But I do miss the stilettos and grasshopper martinis..

So, after spending a Thursday evening vegging out on the couch, with Mr. Goatee playing games on the computer, we decided to go out. I put on my black cashmere sweater, my tweed stilettos, and him his button up shirt. We headed to Wilhagens, played a couple games of darts, had a few beers and a few glasses of wine, and then went home at midnight. Ok, so I wasn't closing down the place or doing the old bar crawl. But as I laid in bed, slowly drifting to sleep with my slight (oh-so-familiar) buzz, my feet warmed by Mr. Goatee's, I thought to myself: I haven't lost a thing.