This morning I woke up with a pounding headache. One of those that is so bad you can't even lift your head off of the pillow. I was nauseated, knew I needed to eat to raise my blood sugar but couldn't get my fat ass out of bed because my head hurt so bad. One major negative about being in your thirties is one night of drinking requires more recovery time than minor surgery.
I remember when I was in my early twenties I could stay out until four in the morning, slamming shots and beer. I'd get two hours of sleep and wake up and go to work. Sure, I didn't feel great, but I could make it. Now, if I drink more than three drinks of any type, I have to reschedule any plans I had for the next day. It's almost not even worth it to have those drinks. I never use to lose track of time or black out in my twenties, and now it has happened at least three times to me and I do not drink anymore than I use to. In fact, I drink a lot less. I love when my friends come up to me the next day and say things like, "all you could talk about last night was how Stephanie Tanner was your idol as a child." I generally have no memory of such conversations.
I'm single, I answer to no one. If I want to stay out all night pounding drinks I should be allowed to. However, my body does not give one fuck what I want. It thinks I should be a stay at home mom drinking one glass of chardonnay a night. It's quite depressing in fact. I find myself being more content sitting at home watching reruns of my favorite shows on Netflix than going out and living the single life. How the hell am I suppose to meet Mr. Right(now) sitting on the couch in my jammies?
If I could give advice to anyone in their twenties it would be to get it all out of your system, because the day you turn 30 you body flips a switch you never knew existed. I love to sit at bars and watch the twenty-one year old girls come in. They have one Smirnoff, maybe a shot of tequila and start yelling to their girlfriends about how much they love each other and love girl nights. Inevitably, one of those slutskies ends up in the passenger side of a car with some guy who "just wants to cuddle" for the night. It makes me smile and reminisce.
A few months ago I had a run in with such a group of girls. I was going to the bathroom and as I pushed the door open something stopped it. I could hear giggling inside so I pushed harder. This six-foot tall big ole' girl poked her head out of the door. She said, "we don't know you, but I guess we can let you in." I took a step back and lunged at the door with all my might, knowing it was going to take some force to take out this heifer. Once in, I looked up at her and said, "sweetie, this is a public restroom. I don't need your admittance." Her and her two twig-like friends hit the wall. I'm in the restroom and they go back to talking. It went something like this:
Dumb girl 1 - "Jake is probably going to text me tonight. I'm just not sure if I want to see him."
Dumb girl 2 - "You know you'll get drunk and go over to his house if he asks. How long have you been seeing each other?"
Dumb girl 1 - "A while now. He says he isn't ready for a relationship..."
at this point I butt in because I need to impart some wisdom
Me - "Let me guess, he only calls you late at night and any texts you send during the day get short answers?"
Dumb girl 1 - "He works a lot and he really likes me. He's just scared."
Me - "You're a booty call. That's it. Have a nice night."
That is one thing I don't miss about my twenties. Sitting in a bathroom with my girlfriends over-analyzing and over-dramatizing some little shit-head's behavior. If I did that now my friends would smack me upside the head. And I would do the same for them. If there's one thing I know about men it's this: if he wants to be with you, he's going to make it happen. End of story. Yes, I still wish I had the tolerance and the stupidity to do body-shots and dance on a table at times. However, I can sit in a bar by myself and enjoy a drink without the insecurity of needing three fake friends to accompany me. Nonetheless, I now need those friends to insert and IV and administer a fluid bolus the next day. That's no fun...
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Monday, April 21, 2014
Am I the Only One?
When I turned 30 it must have been like watching a surprise party for a cat: everyone is excited, but the cat just ends up sitting in a box the whole time, occasionally looking at flies on the wall. I had exactly five people show up to my birthday (before the cops did, but I'll get to that later) and all were married, with children. Thus, they had to be home at a certain time. Also, they were all bartenders I had gotten to know as I moved here. Grateful to have friends there, yes I was. Grateful to be turning 30, hell-to-the-negative. It wasn't exactly the ho-down I was looking for.
Not going to lie, I was depressed. Here I was, 30 and single. I had accomplished none of the things I had hoped by that time. Well, I had accomplished one: moving out of Indiana. But, that was it. I felt bad because I eventually drank enough to disarm my feelings and tell people I was depressed. They felt bad, but didn't and COULDN'T understand what that felt like. Then, the cops were called because someone there had a warrant out for their arrest. Indeed, the fun-filled evening had ended.
What did hit me the most the next day was how much faster my thirties were going to go compared to my twenties. See, your twenties are all about self-discovery. No one goes into this period knowing exactly who they are and what they want to be. That's what your twenties are for. Well, that and having the best tolerance ever for alcohol and bullshit. I get on Facebook daily and see pictures of the people I grew up with. They show photos of their children going off to school, new houses and DIY projects that I neither have the patience or finances to complete. I wonder, am I the only one?
Am I the only one who has somehow managed to escape the cliche that you need a man and a family to be "successful?" At first, I believed yes. But now, as I'm approaching my 31st birthday I am learning that I get to live a life and experience things in a way that my peers never will. I am also learning that people treat you differently as a single, thirty-something female. And finally, I am learning that simple-minded people sometimes need to be put in their place. That is what I will continue to write about, as well as challenging the ideals I held in my twenties.
Not going to lie, I was depressed. Here I was, 30 and single. I had accomplished none of the things I had hoped by that time. Well, I had accomplished one: moving out of Indiana. But, that was it. I felt bad because I eventually drank enough to disarm my feelings and tell people I was depressed. They felt bad, but didn't and COULDN'T understand what that felt like. Then, the cops were called because someone there had a warrant out for their arrest. Indeed, the fun-filled evening had ended.
What did hit me the most the next day was how much faster my thirties were going to go compared to my twenties. See, your twenties are all about self-discovery. No one goes into this period knowing exactly who they are and what they want to be. That's what your twenties are for. Well, that and having the best tolerance ever for alcohol and bullshit. I get on Facebook daily and see pictures of the people I grew up with. They show photos of their children going off to school, new houses and DIY projects that I neither have the patience or finances to complete. I wonder, am I the only one?
Am I the only one who has somehow managed to escape the cliche that you need a man and a family to be "successful?" At first, I believed yes. But now, as I'm approaching my 31st birthday I am learning that I get to live a life and experience things in a way that my peers never will. I am also learning that people treat you differently as a single, thirty-something female. And finally, I am learning that simple-minded people sometimes need to be put in their place. That is what I will continue to write about, as well as challenging the ideals I held in my twenties.
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