a scene from last night (also, never shop at jimbo’s for dinner when you’re starving, you’ll end up purchasing so many items that some sweet patron will see you trying to juggle said items and insist that you take her basket in order to make it from the back of the store to the check-out line without having to yell for clean-up on aisle nine):

shay, my beloved jimbo’s pre-made food section employee: wait, you’re 27?

me: yeah, i’m 27. i know, i know, i look a lot younger. especially because most of the time you see me coming from the gym or with no make-up on.

him: yeah, i thought you were in like, high school.

 file under: statements that are accurate and occur on many days that end in “y.”

it’s kind of ironic, actually that this conversation took place last night on the heels of an evening where i felt very much my age for once.

you see, last night i was lucky enough to attend moonlight chic, a fashion-filled benefit for dress for success san diego as a “reporter (so official)” for Ask Miss A. the event was held atop the summersalt rooftop lounge at the hotel palomar downtown (oh  you fancy, huh?) and as i followed google’s careful directions down the 805 and to the 163 into the heart of the city, i felt this weird sense of confidence (i’m telling you, pencil skirts are game changers).

like, hey, look at me, i’m downtown on a wednesday night at a charitable event at some swanky hotel (a far cry from my usual wednesday evening activities, see also, in pajamas by 7 p.m. ready to take in the latest episode of top chef masters). and not only that, i’m a hosted guest, too. i mean, how did i get here?

you took the 805 to the 163, remember?

no, how did i get to this point where on rare occasions i actually feel like i’m a late-twenty-something who kind of sort of knows what she’s doing with her life? one who has somehow landed some pretty sweet opportunities and who, also on rare occasions, is looked to as a pretty important person.

because most of the time, let’s be honest, i hardly feel like a PIP (as opposed to a VIP).

but maybe that’s because when i look in the mirror, i see what well, apparently most of the employees at jimbo’s do. a high-school-aged gal. one who should be worrying about her AP government exam and not one responsible with signing wealthy la jollans up for membership at a private club. and certainly not one who deserves to be out on a school night at a downtown rooftop lounge hob-nobbing with some of san diego’s finest.

so maybe it was the pencil skirt or the lipstick or maybe it really was the fact that i’ve made this little side writing profession out for myself (with the help of some pretty stellar Divine intervention), but whatever the reason, last night felt like a major W in the old life of shawna scorebook.  

yes, even after being mistaken for 10 years my junior.

which also totally explains why i was blatantly checked out by two la costa canyon students on their way to school this morning. that or they’re into cougs (because i had to be at least 9 years their senior). either way, it was flattering.