Ugh. I'm not sure where to even start this. My emotions are raw and still sting. I feel sort of like a slug who has been doused with an ample helping of salt.
Those of you who follow me on Facebook knew that I took some pretty drastic measures last night. I stepped so far out of my comfort zone that I completely left my zip code, my county, and basically my planet. I decided to go "out" for New Year's Eve to a party. I'm not going to say that it was a bad decision because if I hadn't gone, I would have always been haunted by the "what if" monster.
So, for those of you who didn't see the insanity via FB, here's the general scenario.
1) Grant convinced me to go to a party. Duh! Why the heck do I listen to the 12 year old male in the house? I think it was his monologue about his mother turning into a weird spinster cat lady that might have tilted the scales but... He even offered to pay the entry fee. Ultimately, it was my decision, though. I decided that I'd splurge on a new outfit and do it.
2) Grant proceeded to procure arrangements for he and his sisters for the night. Not just until midnight. For the entire night with my mom. My mom had NEVER watched all three kids overnight at her house and Annie had NEVER slept away from home without me. The whole scenario continued to have disaster written all over but I sort of decided that one night out would not hurt me or the kids. (My mom was the only one who risked permanent damage from over working her nerves with all three kids).
3) So, the next morning, I went to the mall. Yes, I said THE MALL. People who know me well can tell you that I don't go to the mall and I don't pay full price for anything. If I need clothes, I go to Old Navy, Marshals, TJ Maxx, or Ross but not THE MALL! However, I was on a tight time constraint since I'd left all three convicts at home alone. I had to move quick. After scouting out several stores and wanting to puke at the thought of paying over $100 for a dress, I closed my eyes and pretended that I was buying five dresses and not just one. Then, I sort of got into the shopping mood and hit Payless in the mall for a pair of glittery sandals to finish the outfit off. I'm not against shopping. I enjoy shopping. I just don't like spending money and I have a hard time participating in one without the other happening. Hmmm....
4) I dropped the kids off at Mom's prior to getting dressed. I couldn't tell you when the last time was that I had a shower without turning it off at least once thinking I heard someone screaming. I actually almost did that while the kids were gone and then realized that I'd left the TV in the bedroom on. So, I got showered and then began the Dance of the Spanx. What is wrong with the manufactures of those stupid garments? I've pondered the scene of several guys sitting around a conference table brainstorming the next great prank of the female population and one of them squealing, "A ha! Let's make a tube out of elastic and then tell the ladies that it will make them look skinny!" The other jack... oh, oops... the other donkeys around the table laugh, as well, and then begin designing this undergarment. I'm sure they'd all fallen out of their seats with laughter multiple times before they finished designing the entire line. I'm also quite sure that none of them ever tried any of the darn things on. (Remember that movie with Mel Gibson and Helen Hunt - What Women Want)? Anyway, I finally got the stupid Spanx on and was pretty darn glad that the cat was the only one around for the gymnastics performance. The thing I always forget, though, is that when you displace one lump, the lump doesn't disappear. It moves somewhere else. I wonder what would happen if you wore a full body Spanx suit? Would the muffin top migrate and pop out somewhere around your neck or ankles? Ewwww.... Anyway, I got dressed, fixed my hair (I do own a flat iron - I just never use it), put makeup on (I do own makeup - I just never wear it), and tried to figure out how I was going to walk in the glittery sandals. They looked like a great idea in the box but walking in them was another story. Oh well. What's the worst thing that would happen? I'd break my ankle because of those beautiful sandals. I took the bet and figured that it would be worth it.
5) So, I climbed in the van and just sort of sat there. I kept hearing strains of that old song that Mr. Hooper used to sing on Sesame Street, "One of these things is not like the other..." Me all dressed up in the minivan. Oh well. However, as I pulled out of the garage, I realized I needed to put gas in the van. I made a pit stop to do that and then headed to meet some girl friends for the "pre" party.
6) We met at a local restaurant. No big deal. I knew these girls and they knew me. Or, they thought they did until I walked in. I'll admit that they actually laughed. They were shocked that I had dressed up. I guess they expected to see me in the school marm khakis and button down collared shirt. Geez. Maybe things are worse than I thought. So, we had a fun dinner and then they headed on their way to a bar scene in Buckhead. I know my limitations. I don't do alcohol and that's what they were after - and some men. No alcohol and no man fishing. So, we went our separate ways and I headed to the non-alcoholic party.
7) When I pulled into the parking lot, the reality of the situation sort of hit me. What the heck was I doing? But, I still had some guts left (although they had been rattled by my friends' laughter) so I parked the cool minivan amongst the other sedans and headed in. There was a line to check in and that's when it hit me. Not just, "What the heck was I doing," but I seriously thought, "What the hell am I doing?" Look folks. I'm just being real here. If you want me to candy coat the remainder of the story, you'd better stop reading because the emotions that surged through me over the next four hours almost undid me.
8) When I got through the line and into the building, I realized that the entire middle section was a dance floor and there were tables around the perimeter of the area where folks were mingling. Now, the invitation did include the word "dance" but for some reason that hadn't really occurred to me until that point. "Oh, you mean D A N C E like shake your bootie and be in other people's space?" Nice. My eyes welled up with tears and I almost spun around on those very slick glittery heels (which I'd gotten some lessons in walking in by my laughing friends) and headed out of there. However, one of the biggest What If monsters came out of hiding and bit me square on my Spanx clad butt. Maybe I shouldn't call it a What If monster. It was more like a taunting voice from my past saying, "You're never any fun! You never want to go anywhere or do anything! You just want to stay home!" Yip. I hear that voice quite a bit and I do everything I can to prove it wrong. It that misguided motivation? Maybe. Has that voice pushed me out of my comfort zone in the last three years more than once? Absolutely. I don't want that voice from my past to have any power over me but it motivates me to do and try things that I've never done. I don't guess it's always a bad thing. However, I was too far out of my comfort zone. In 37 years of my life, I've never been in a bar or a club. I'm not kidding. Now, remember this was a non-alcoholic event but it was sort of like a club scene. There I was. Stuck right inside the door way. There were no seats of the side of the room where I was stranded and I would have to cross the entirety of the dance floor to get to the other side. Fight or flight? I kept looking around for someone I knew but didn't see anyone. Nice. Here I am in a building with hundreds of people and I'm acting like a lost 2 year old. Man up. Cowboy up. Grow up. So, I walked across the floor and almost slid into an empty seat.
9) I sat back for a few minutes and praised my bravery. I know that you socialites are scratching your heads (or butt) right now thinking, "What the heck is wrong with her?" Go ahead. I've told you many times before that I am NOT a social being and that any sort of comfort zone migration takes a major toll on me. I've very cognizant of my short comings and this is probably numero uno! I was seated toward the back of the room so I could get my bearings. I mapped out the DJ, where the dance floor seemed to stop and start, where the food was located, and the general traffic flow. I'm not kidding you when I tell you that I sat there for probably 30 minutes trying to acclimate myself to the new surroundings. I watched the dance floor fill up and people having... fun. Then, there was the voice again, "You never want to have fun." Dang it. He has already wreaked enough havoc on my life. Why in the world have his words stayed lodged in my psyche? Get the heck out of my life!!!! You don't have any power over me nor do you even deserve to have any part of my mind occupied with your hateful comments! Once again, I was fighting the urge to get up and leave. I looked ridiculous sitting at a table alone like I was a lost child about to cry. So, I started playing games with myself. I looked at the big clock on the wall and told myself that I'd stay until 9:00 and then reassess. Ok. That seemed reasonable. I'm not sure why I play games with myself like that. It's not like I'm ever going to win or lose. Maybe I have some sort of split personality and they are fighting to see who will have the next win.
10) It was about that time that I completely got sideswiped. I was sitting there playing my own little tic-toc game when some guy came along and asked me to dance. I'm still not sure what I said to him but he obviously understood my, "NO!" Now, I had not ever once even considered that I might have to deal with actual people - especially the male variety. There I sat wondering if I could teleport out of there so I wouldn't have to move. I was petrified. But, it wasn't 9:00 yet, so I couldn't leave.
11) I did enjoy the music and knew most of the tunes that were played. See, I'm not so dull. I do know about some pop culture. As I was reveling in my coolness (and watching the clock), there was another group attack. All of the people around me headed for the dance floor and somehow swept me out to sea with them. Ok. DO. NOT. PANIC. I was relieved to hear the first strains of Boot Scootin Boogie and realized that I did know that and that was a line dance. I would not have to be in someone's bubble. Deep breathing. For a few nano seconds, I loosened up and just went with the flow - until my brain unfroze. Then, I started thinking about how I was going to get out of the sea of people and back to my safe little chair on the edge of society. No luck. The Boogie ended and some guy with a name tag that read "Kevin" (yes, we were tagged as we entered the door), swept me up and tried to dance and talk with me at the same time. I really wanted to scream, "Are you a dentist? Just like I can't talk to the dentist with my mouth propped open, I can't talk to you while we're dancing in this craziness." Anyway, he was harmless enough and deposited me back to my table after the next song. My head was spinning. But, on the positive side, it was 9:30. I was free to go if I felt like it. As I contemplated my next move, I was again swept out for another "group" dance. I was doing ok with the whole thing and even thought about patting myself on the back because I knew what gangnam "style" was. (You Tube is a wonderful tool for trying to unlock preteen language and activities).
12) After being deposited at my seat again, I looked up to see Jello girl walk in. Now, if you remember Jello girl from my earlier posts... you can imagine my surprise. Last night, she didn't look like congealed Jello though. She was so wiggly that she looked like she hadn't been in the fridge long enough. Oh my. And, while I was worried about the neck line of my outfit being lower than normal (although my laughing friends promised me that I was safe), Jello girl's cleavage was well on it's way to busting out like a can of biscuits. Geez. I silently prayed that she wouldn't sneeze or shake anything too hard. (Once again, it was much easier to people watch and be judgemental than process my own feelings).
13) By this time, it was after 11:00. I was so proud of myself. I was going to make it through this seeming nightmare that hadn't been quite as bad as I'd first thought. By this time, there were some other folks seated around the table with me and we were conversing politely. (I used my best "outside the house" manners and didn't use the words poop, fart, or crap)!
14) Grant texted me at 11:25 and said that Annie was melting down and calling for me and that Grandma was not coping well with the situation. Crap. (I didn't say it out loud because I was still using my "outside the house" manners). What do I do? My kids are always my first priority but sometimes Grant can be a bit dramatic. Geez. One of the guys sitting at the table asked if something was wrong and I guess I sort of chuckled. I wanted to say, "Hmmmm... Where should I start?" I gave him a brief summary (excluding the word crap and my fear of having fun) and he said that he was a single dad with two kids at home with a sitter and he just laughed. At least he could pay the sitter and send her home. I couldn't just offer to pay for Mom's increase in meds due to my children and send her on her way. The guy (I'm not sure of his name because his name tag was long gone) offered one last dance and then bid me adieu at the door. It was 11:40 and I was headed to pick up children. For a fleeting second, I laughingly thought, "It's probably best that I go now anyway because this whole charade may turn to a pumpkin at midnight and I'll be left holding my glittery sandals and having images of a nameless guy!"
15) When I arrived at Mom's, she was pissed. If you know my mom, she doesn't get pissed. She gets her feathers ruffled or her undies in a knot but she doesn't ever get full out pissed. She didn't know Grant had texted me an SOS call. Grant bolted out the door toward the van. Annie stumbled down the stairs with her eyes red from hysterics. Dasha slept soundly upstairs. Mom kept apologizing and saying that she could have handled it but... At that point, I was there and taking the two children who were still awake.
16) We made it home just in time to see the peach drop. The end.
Yeah, it wish it was as simple as The End. What a night. I've been left with lots of brain work today. I do not like the fact that I stepped so far beyond my comfort zone just in order to prove someone wrong - especially someone who doesn't give a crap about me. Why? I'm sure Dr. Phil would have something to say like, "Well, now, how did that work out for you?" Truthfully? I ended up getting to know myself a whole lot better amidst the moments of near hysteria on that dance floor. I also learned quite a bit about what and who others perceive me to be. I'm still twirling that notion around. I know I shouldn't care what others think but, give me a break. I don't know a single soul that could have endured their friends' laughter and not have taken something to heart. (Sorry girls, that's the way it was received. Maybe you didn't mean it to be like a sword though my spirit but it sure felt that way).
So, for all of the emails and texts from well-wishers and those curious about "how it went" last night that have not been responded to... there's your answer. Last night was one of the most painful learning experiences that I've had in a very long time. Yes, there were moments where I did let my guard down and just went with the flow and had fun but I struggled. Would I do it again? Yes.
Proverbs 2:7-8
7 He holds success in store for the upright, he is a shield to those whose walk is blameless,
8 for he guards the course of the just and protects the way of his faithful ones.
Good rainy night, all.
Ha! For those who said I wouldn't post the picture. Bam. There it is.
If you post the others, I won't worry if I have enough bail money. I'll simply get even!
If you post the others, I won't worry if I have enough bail money. I'll simply get even!
