I turned 30 years old a couple of weeks ago but it didn't really hit me until the weekend of March 19th. It was a warm day outside, the birds were chirping and..; no just kidding. So my BFF decides she wants to go to Old School Saturday (OSS) to celebrate her birthday and of course I agree. Sounds like fun. When I hear Old School I am thinking blue lights in the basement type stuff. Because I do not actually follow through on my agreements until I have time to check something out first, I do a little research. Side Note: Just because I said I was going to do something doesn't mean I am if I find out it is not my thing. I will become sick or won't have a babysitter that weekend. Maybe this blog should be called confessions of a thirty year old.
Anyway I go to the
OSS website and find out that their definition of Old School is 80s and 90s music. Since when did my generation become old? I listen to some of the music on the site and think how I get really excited at the club when some of these songs come on, but again, when did I become old? I still agree to go.
The night of
OSS, I started having mixed emotions because I am thinking now that I am old, what am I supposed to wear? Will there be other old people there and if so how old is old? Will it be matching T-Shirts old, over dressed old or people who just found out they were old like me. I do some more research on Facebook (has replaced Wikipedia for the go to for useless information for me) and get some mixed reviews. Of course because I am old now and no longer optimistic, I focus on the negative. To sum it up, someone posted in a nice way, "Its lame as ____" Someone else said it was fun but hot. So now I have three things to worry about; what to wear, being bored to death and my bangs sticking to my forehead.
Being on this earth for thirty years has taught me a lot but the most valuable on this night was to downplay the bad stuff and play up the good things. So I get my club shorts out, lint brush them off and put them on and in a deathly whisper say, "When did my legs start looking like that?" They used to be one of my best assets. Then I thought back to last year at the beach when my son asked me why my legs jiggled like that. I was 29 then so I was like, "Little boy shut up and go play" but now I see the jiggle that he saw and I am not impressed. The hubbie comes upstairs and gives me the lets get it look so I decide to keep the shorts on. While doing my hair, I discover that the one gray hair I cut out of my head a month ago has come back. In the morning when rushing to get to work one doesn't notice such things but when I actually care what I look like; I am devastated. I cut it again and get ready to go. Once I walked in
OSS, I said to myself, "Self, you have nothing to worry about." About half of the people were from the dressed alike or dressed like they are going to prom generation but the other half were people like me; just trying to pretend like we are 21 again.
I downed a few drinks and had a great time dancing to the "oldies" with my husband. I did sweat out my bangs (but being 30 has taught me it is dark in there anyway so it doesn't matter until you step outside) and complain about waiting half an hour to get to the cash bar (that’s what old people do; we complain), but I had fun. That's what this thing called life is supposed to be, right?
After pondering over a few mixed beverages made by a man that had to be pushing 60 with coke bottle glasses, I made two important life decisions; I will enroll in a Zuumba class asap and I need to get busy on some plans because I only have 30 more years before my Saturday nights will consist of bingo and apple juice.
