I would give my left leg to be a lady of leisure and wake up at 9:00am and go lay by the pool and drink club specials for lunch. I’d read my books and write my posts and adopt all the dogs because I’d have the time and the means to do that good stuff. I’m telling y’all, I’d be one hell of a philanthropist if I had any damn money (without having to go to the office).
I’m at work instead. Que sera sera, and damn you straight to hell, feminist independence.
(jk, not really, it’s pretty badass, but I wasn’t kidding about the rest of it)
Anywhoodles, one of my oldest friends is getting married this fall, so we all got together on Saturday to shower her and her beloved with place settings and gin drinks. We decided to go out to Dickson Street afterward, where we learned the following things:
- If you order a glass of white, and instead of the bartender giving you options for white, she just gives you a glass of the one white they have, it’s going to be a pretty shitty glass of lukewarm white wine. Can’t even be salvaged with ice cubes.
- The vodka drinks are poured like you’re in a college town, which is precisely why I only had one.
- Yeehawg is to 2017 what Z330 was to 2006, complete with frat lapping and plastic cups. Arkansas folks my age will understand the reference.
- It is LOUD AF in bars. Like, you talk about it in the bathroom, where you have escaped to sit in the lounge area and take advantage of the quiet.
- Seats are valued much more now than they ever were when I was a Dickson Street Frequent Flyer.
- Even in your thirties, you still take advantage of a good woo-bar with a mechanical bull in the shape of a razorback and woo your face off when your friend rides it.
- You’re never too old for bathroom selfies when you get gussied and fall into good lighting.
Yes, that’s a Lumee phone case because I’ve decided that, at thirty-three, I’m going to be so extra, it’ll scorch your face off. I also just learned the word “extra” and I love it. Is that cringey? I can’t tell if it’s acceptable or if I’ve morphed into Regina George’s mother.
Anyway, I posted this picture because I’m finally following through on that change of thought I had back in April … you know, the one where I said I wanted to go back to trying to be cute and not schlep around in sweatpants and whatever. As it turns out, committing to ninety days of working out can really assist your self-confidence, leading you to make better attempts with yourself. Then you generally feel better about yourself and life and your future.
I think it was Ferris Bueller that said, “That club special life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and sweat and dress cute once in a while, you’ll sure as hell miss it because you’re busted AF.”
Or something like that.