In my 20's, I aspired to be a party girl. I felt ever Saturday night should be like the senior prom....dress up, go out, dance dance dance and drink drink drink. I would sit on the couch and sulk if Big K wanted to stay home. I didn't care if he was tired, if I was tired or if the band playing at the local club was worse than Chinese businessman karaoke. I wanted to put on my FM heels and chug cocktails 'til last call. Sundays were for drunken recuperation, going out for eggs and bacon then hopefully something fun would happen that afternoon. I thought we were "losers" if we didn't do something crazy every weekend.
Well, time has a way of changing everything. Now, instead of drinking my face off while grinding my ass into TH as we watch the lamest cover band on the east coast try to pull off something that sounds like James Hetfield being strangled with a guitar string, I can be found sprawled out on my couch, dressed in my jammies, book in hand, glass of wine within reaching distance while TH watches some classic rock documentary for the umpteenth million time while he practices his guitar or surfs the internet. And wouldn't you know it, I couldn't be happier.
In the last 2 years, I have left the crazy 20something party girl behind and grown into a newer 30something chick who loves to just chill. This doesn't mean that TH and I have turned into couch slugs. We're just much more choosy on how we spend our free time. We go to concerts, an occasional action movie (those just have to be seen on the big screen), NASCAR races and other assorted activities that don't require a 2 day recovery period.
Lately, I just love being home. Even though it's far from finished, we have managed to turn our house into a place that I can be at total peace. Spending 3 hours, sitting on my front porch in an Adirondack chair, surrounded by hydrangeas and reading a stupid romance novel is one of my favorite pastimes. Now that the weather is growing colder, I begin to get the gourmet cooking bug. I spent this past rainy Sunday in my kitchen making marinara sauce from tomatoes grow in my very own garden while Bocelli sang in the background and I drank a very nice glass of Chianti. It felt like a friggin' TV ad for pasta sauce. Sometimes, everything seems so serene and perfect, I swear I have looked around for a camera - convinced I must be on some movie set.
I think for the first time in my hectic, crazy life I've had a chance to just "be". The pressure to go out and party or you're a loser is gone. It's surprisingly comfortable and fullfilling answering the question "What did you do this weekend?" with "Nothing much". "Nothing" has become a good thing. Have you noticed we're always rushing some where - work, the dry cleaners, daycare, school, the grocery, the drugstore, the gym. Or we're trying to please everyone at once - family, boss, kids, husband/wife, friends, coworkers. Some days I look at the clock and wonder how in the hell it got to be 9 PM so fast. Hadn't I just woken up? I didn't even remember driving to work. What did I do at work that day? How come I was so tired and did I have the energy to do one more load of laundry before bed. Sometimes it felt the older I got, the fast the days went.
I think this ephipany happened just a few weeks ago. Soon after the great Boob Adventure. I would never say my experience was life changing. But for those 7 days I waited for my results wondering in the back of my usually optimistic mind, "Hmmmm, what if I do have cancer? That is gonna suck." I didn't tell anyone that. I maintained my boucy outlook and when people seemed edgy and concerned, I would pipe up and say "Don't worry. It's totally fine" when in reality I was freaking out. The relief that came with the call from the nurse telling me it was nothing to worry about caused me to to stare out my office window at a tree frame by a perfect, cloudless blue sky. At the moment, I thought to myself, "Ya know, I really have good life."
So Lovers, I'm gonna just "be" from now on. My 20something party girl is in the wind as my 30something self embraces those small moments in time.