Lately, I’ve been thinking quite a bit about my 30th birthday. Not that I’m scared to be 30- I really don’t care (although it will be weird to not be considered a ‘twenty-something’ anymore). I’m thinking about it because I want a big party.
Birthdays for me are usually lots of hype and then letdown. Except for 2007 where I had a blast and then proceeded to get drunk and decided that if I took the icing off the cake, it didn’t have carbs. Uh, not my best moment, and it resulted in my head face down in the toilet.
I think I have some glamorized idea of what a massive birthday bash is supposed to be like: you wear a pretty dress and are surrounded with lovely friends and have great food, good drinks, dancing and a general footloose-and-fancy-free time. I envision jetting off to Las Vegas to celebrate in some swanky club where we have a VIP table and bottle service.
Except that’s not really me!
I’m spending tonight (Friday) in my pajamas catching up on House Hunters on the DVR and blogging. And I’m happy to do it. I love being at home and relaxing. I mean, I like being with friends too, but the whole “outing” thing can be such a headache: finding an outfit, shoes that don’t hurt, worrying about what to eat or drink on this diet (although really- don’t worry about me!), then trying to mesh with the crowd and then getting home at the end of the night.
So I’m trying to figure out why I’m longing to organize and throw this party. I don’t have tons of people to invite (in my dreams we take over the club), certainly don’t have money to organize and pay for everything in my fantasy land, including everyone’s food and drinks, and then I know I’ll stress out wanting everyone to have a great time.
I think part of this whole thing comes from feeling like my twenties have flown by and I want to be able to celebrate entering into another decade. The twenties have been hard for me (and I’m sure MANY others) as you transition from college kid to working adult. My twenties consisted of me gaining 100+ pounds in college, another 50 after graduation, then losing 150 pounds before gaining 155 back after grad school. I mean, that is SO NOT NORMAL. I’ve always been a goodie-two-shoes and never partied much. I’ve always been hyper-worried about what others would think about me or whatever that I just avoided a lot of situations. And when I avoided, I gained weight. I hid in my house and binged. A large order of cheese fries with extra ranch plus a fried chicken salad with honey mustard and hot bacon dressing. To go.
So now I’m going back down in the right (weight) direction. As I go down, my confidence is slowly starting to tick up. My outfit made me feel pretty. I realized I went from a size 32/34 to a 24. And not just like 1 random pair of 24’s. I went to Macy’s and every pair of 24’s I put on fit me. It was a “woah” moment in the dressing room.
And I saw this tonight- I remember thinking I thought I looked good in the first picture (I think it was around 40 pounds down), but tonight, I actually saw a big difference. I did a happy dance (literally – to 2 songs from my current workout mix). And today, I hit over $700 raised towards my $2,500 goal for the half marathon. I cried happy tears at work. I talk down to myself a lot. More than I admit. But today? I was screaming inaudible “you go girls” to myself.
Does this stuff really have anything to do with me wanting a big fancy bash? I’m thinking so. I think I’m craving experiences and memories as I’ve let so many pass in my 20’s. I want to start my 30s off right. Who knows what that “right” is.