>Here I am, 32 years old and married, living out the dreams I had a half-life ago. At 16, I worked at a small Jungian publishing company, and often sent books to a store at the King of Prussia Mall in Pennsylvania. Giant malls appealed to my teen self, and I hoped to visit this mecca of shopping some day. On Saturday, January 26, Husband and Steph made my dream a reality. The mall was every bit as mall-rific as I'd hoped.

Last week saw another teen dream come to pass for me. On our way home from the house Husband rented in the Catskills, we stopped in Woodstock. Ever since I painted hippie logos - a white dove, hearts, and peace signs - on the yellow plastic trash can in my childhood bedroom, I longed for the day I could commune with my like-minded (albeit drug using) fellow '60s leftovers. Little did I know that my future in Woodstock would involve paying $7 for a peach smoothie in which vanilla soy milk was substituted for peach nectar because the hippie cafe ran out of the pivotal ingredient for a peach smoothie (they also ran out of bananas, which are in every other smoothie on their menu), but I needed to pee and thus was willing to fork out for access to a clean toilet. Seriously, almost every store in the town was outrageously expensive (except for the tie-dyed t-shirts), which is about par for the course for the biggest sell-out generation in America overall. (Which is not to say that everyone is a sell out, but if I see one more AmeriTrade commercial cashing in on boomer nostalgia - congratulating folks for rock 'n' roll and their current interest in their own financial security, I may punch my TV screen.)

Anyway, Husband took this picture of me in Woodstock:I like the sentiment of the sign a lot. The brown bag I have in my armpit contains a book I saw in the window of the Woodstock Quiltsupply shop, and felt compelled to purchase: Dirty Wow Wow and Other Love Stories: A tribute to the threadbare companions of childhood." The book (and the quilt store, which was very cute) puts the warm fuzzies back into my thoughts about Woodstock, idealism, and youth.

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