"Meet Me in Harvard Square"

“Meet me in Harvard Square.”
Like some type of overrun chick flick, only this is real life. Not reality TV, but my life. 100 dates in 100 days. First dates are great and all, but I sincerely hope there is someone out there who wants to spend more than 2 hours over a burrito with me.

Ice cream is unto Mormons as beer is unto the majority of the American population.
I remember the first time a guy asked me to a bar. It was a Thursday night. Weekends start early, right? Mormon pop culture, on the other hand, is all about the ice cream. How about I take you for some ice cream? Ah… the natural (?) high of cholesterol and fat.

I am not cynical, just tired, and coming to the realization that I have become what TIME magazine dubbed a “twixter”. In between. Not a teenager, yet lacking the full-blown responsibility of an adult. We move from job to job, city to city, schooling to internship to placement. Never settling down to start a family. Continuing to text, email, and call our own parents instead of becoming parents ourselves.

I always thought I’d be married by this point in life. And maybe that’s the challenge. I was mentally prepared for high school, college, motherhood. I never heard a young women’s lesson about the joys of being 25 and single.

Touch me, hold me, compliment me. At the end of the night I walk back through Harvard Square, get on the train, and head to my apartment. The smell of Thai food, salsa dancing sweat, or the latest cologne still is on my clothes. I take them off and crawl into bed alone.