How Far We’ve Come October 22, 2007
Posted by charmingbutsingle in College was Fun, Forgive me while I ramble, Friends, My Misspent Youth, Random Musings on Life, Weekend Updates.trackback
Note: Mildly incoherent rambling ahead.
Saturday I joined Southern Belle and The Lawyer to tailgate in style – a tent, a grill, a TV and some adult beverages. The Lawyer and I rolled up in the early afternoon (after Friday night of dinner out and a bottle of wine at my place) with orange juice and champagne.
“Isn’t it a bit late for mimosas?” someone asked.
“It is never too late for mimosas,” I deadpanned as we cracked open the first bottle.
The group was relaxed and fun, a far cry from my college days of pre-game drinking, when the goal was to drink as much beer and as many shots as we could possibly muster. We lounged about, and the women gathered to one side of the tailgate to talk about life and work and waxing and accessories. My aim on this afternoon and others like it is to catch up with friends and not think about the trials of adulthood, the bills to pay, the upcoming week at work.
Midway through the afternoon, The Lawyer suggested that we visit our “old” tailgating group, our friends from college who still get together each week with a big set-up that includes four tents and a machine that serves chilled shots of Jagermeister.
So we walked over for a visit and I immediately felt an overwhelming sense of awkwardness. A few people immediately rushed over to say hello, some of them I hadn’t seen in years. I hugged a newly married couple and another guy rushed over and drunkenly acted like he was humping my leg. One of The Lawyer’s old flings slurred a hello and proceeded to tease me about the same things he’d been teasing me about for years before pointedly mentioning his new girlfriend in a way that seemed totally out of place and as if he were making a point to The Laywer. I rolled my eyes behind my sunglasses.
The thing that made it awkward was that they felt the same – the same guys with the same jokes and the same friends, doing the same things we’d been doing at age 21. Only now we’re in our late 20s or early 30s and it just didn’t seem as enriching. I’d once vowed to always have as much fun as I was having at age 22, but my 27 year old self just couldn’t find anything to say to them. They were my drinking buddies, but I’ve moved on.
It can feel difficult at times to be one of the last of the singles in my “new” group of friends. They’re married or living with their significant others in houses they own. We check our work e-mail on weekends and don’t mind not going out four nights a week. And sometimes when I’m trading recipes with my girlfriends or discussing establishing a relationship with a young OBGYN who will still be delivering babies in five years, I wonder what happened to the 22 year old who just wanted to wear mini skirts and drink bar brand vodka with cranberry and dance to loud music at overcrowded bars with sweaty guys. The girl who was in love with her disinterested best guyfriend and acted out by kissing as many fellow bottom-shelf liquor drinking boys as possible. Who would laugh at wine out of anything other than a box and thought Pasta Roni was a gourmet meal.
But as The Lawyer and I fled that tailgate on Saturday, I decided that the 22 year old is long gone and the 27 year old doesn’t mind that so much.
“Well that was quite a blast from the past,” I said. And I paused. “Let’s get back to the present as fast as we can.”
I at the ripe old age of 26 have also encountered this. A college chum of mine whom Ive remained close with and I got together one night to re-live the old days. We went to our college bars for homecomming for one hour.
Me: Are you having fun?
Her: Oh yeah…umm great its just like it used to be
Me: Want to go back to the hotel watch saturday Night live and order a Pizza?
Her: God yes, I thought youd never ask.
The entire time I was reading this I was thinnking to myself: “Phew, its not just me then!”
I just can’t drink and party the way I used to. And you’re right. I don’t mind that much.
You can have the same amount of fun as you did at 22, but at 27 it’s just through different means. Negotiably through better means, as well.
Now I’m not much for wine myself, but I’d prefer a relaxed get together to a night of drunken debauchery any day. When asked recently by younger coworkers about going to a club I responded ‘I’m too old for that shit’. I was immediately appalled by myself, almost as much as the thought of visiting a club. But that’s what growing and changing and evolving is all about. I don’t drink near as much as I did, the jokes are a little less fart and a little more irony, and a good night is me and my son lazing about and watching cartoons or a movie.
And I’m honestly okay with all of that.
Two things: I can’t believe a guy came up to you and seriously started humping your leg! And also, Pasta Roni isn’t a gourmet meal? What if you have it with a nicely chilled Sauvignon?
So true Charming. This past weekend was my college homecoming. A fellow alumni and friend went with me. I think she had a good time, as she’s still single and childless and into drinking and hookups. Me, however, the mom of an almost 3 year old and very unsingle- I was ready to go home by 11 but actually held out for my friend until closing.
It’s all the same, yet we aren’t anymore. I think we’re finally grown-ups. Oh no!
Amen. I used to hate the fact that I couldn’t keep up with the younguns. Now I revel in it, especially when I’m lucid and hangover free the morning after. Plus I’m finding I really enjoy a quality evening of dinner and videos with friends.
This was so timely for me. Just last night, a friend was trying to drag me into memories from college. All I could think was, “I am a completely different person than that girl was.” I’ve actually felt irritated all day at the vivid memories of my 22-year-old self.
I made some comment to the effect of, “Those 35 years olds you see in bars trying to re-live their 20s are sort of sad,” to a 22 year old classmate of mine. Big mistake. I got an ear full about how bars aren’t lame, and she and her single girlfriends go all the time, and that I don’t know what I’m talking about.
Sometimes I forget that 22 is very different than 30. And then I am reminded.
In my opinion, 30 is so much better. Less bullshit and you know what you want out of life (more so anyway). I wouldn’t go back if you paid me.
Amazing how this happens all over the country. Same goes for me. I moved away from college town 4 years ago, and have been out of college for almost 8 years. However, when I go back, it’s hard to tell the college students from my classmates at the local bar. My friends are still there, doing the same things we did in college and it blows my mind. Honestly, I’m glad to have grown up and out of that phase and would bet those who are still in the ‘party like a college student’ phase wished they were too, they just don’t know how to escape.
I’ve led a sheltered lift; it was only about a year ago that I discovered this magical machine that chills Jager
Actually, I resisted trying it for many years because a friend from college told me it was made from deers’ blood.
I had several reactions to this:
1.) Chilled Jager & ‘atomised’ / misted grain alcohol (inhaled for a quicker buzz), you can just smell the vomit coming from the bathrooms. Really.
2.) Tailgating: The SEC sport & vacation of choice for the older fans &’boosters’. Very strange crowd in any venue. Heavy drinkers. Big meat eaters. Few athletes. Can get fairly expensive fast too.
3.) These are the folks that inhabit the ‘Great Sahara of the Bozarts’ as Mencken put it. Meet the neighbors, it’s not pretty.
4.) If you’ve not picked up on a new set of friends by the time you’re about a decade out of school, well you’re probably not advancing socially much. (The exceptions to this are all the tony private & day schools, typically out East that cost a fortune and where the term ‘Old Boys’ school originated). But even with these exclusive & expensive schools, most of your class mates will not keep in touch, just a small select few. The rest might be your bitter rivals you meet only rarely.
5.) For The Leg Humper: I give you Dean Wormer: (the late John Vernon), “Drunk, fat and stupid is no way to go through life, son.”
6.) It’s not that drinking actually affects you so much more, it’s that your tolerance for your actions & behavior & those of others while drinking has declined dramatically. And you’re equally less willing to ‘take your chances’ on the road too.
7.) There’s a huge difference in lifestyles, lives, histories and accomplishments between say a 22 YO and a 30 YO and then on up to a 40 YO and then to someone like me who fought in the Crimea. We can not expect one group to have a whole lot to do with another. It’s trouble enough to try and work & direct an age integrated workforce let alone different groups of drinking styles. I knew elders who could drink any kid into the ground, and might make a sport of it if it suited them at the time. They’re a rare breed now, but they once walked the earth and took their pleasures just as seriously. (See Mad Men for a glimpse of this).
8.) You can never go home again, so you might as well forget it. You’ve changed. Home has changed. The landscape has changed. While many of us are in truth not too far from our 22 YO selves, we just know more. This is where caution usually comes into play.
9.) Always sleep on any advice or direction from a lawyer. Otherwise you may or may not live to regret it at your leisure.
10.) Not to put a fine point on it, but didn’t you have anything else better to do? Just wondering…
Cheers & Good Luck, ‘VJ’
i have some friends like that still too. the ones that refuse to grow up. they are good though on a weeknight when you’ve just had enough and NEED to have a drink. they’re always available for a drink.
VJ… I love you.
Sheesh! Move to New York City. You’ll never feel alone again. It’s soooo not unusual to be single in your 20s or 30s here. Hell, most of the people that I know are still single.
Definitely agree with Funkybrownchick. As a fellow Manhattan-ite working part-time in a bar, by 4:00am I can’t tell the 22 from the 35 year old, all I know is that I’m fed up with both of them.
But seriously, at 22 did you want to be 12 again? Relish the enjoyment of not killing enough of your brain cells to turn leg humping and slurred speech into productive writing- fun AND productive.
you have no idea how much i can relate to this post!!!
it was fun being 21, 23 and even 25.
but i’m glad i’m 28 now. and looking forward to 29! i’ve heard your 30s are the best.
cheers to getting (slightly) older and (much) wiser!!!