Friday Night

I went to a retirement party for one of the teachers tonight. Nowhere else is it as clear that there are different stages of life. There were lots of young families (*sigh! the hott teacher I've been crushin' on all year showed up with a gorgeous, PREGNANT, Aladdin-pants-onesie-wearin' girlfriend/wife/I-don't-know-because-I-didn't-bother-to-ask), and the whole thing was hosted by a 50's-something-dish who wrote and sang a song for the occasion, AND is getting re-married this year (you go girl!). What thing wasn't like the others? Footloose and fancy free little ol' me, fiancee-less (as one woman keenly pointed out) and ready for adventures.

It was illuminating. I definitely want to rock out at parties for myself throughout my life, e.g. graduation from grad school; weddings 1, 2 and maybe 3; just-got-that-great-job-party; made-it-past-my-27th-year-so-I'm-not-as-cool-as-Janice-or-Jimmy-but-I'm-still-gonna-party-party; retirement; just-signed-that-book-deal-party; etc. BUT, I realized why I spend all my time hanging out with wandering/wondering 20-somethings: because we don't have fiancees, careers, or rugrats to awkwardly make small talk about. DUH!

I stuck around for some traditional French music played by the band. I left after their rendition of Hallelujah. 'The Holy Goat was moving too...' Just like French radio, you gotta love/cringe at the French accent when singing English songs.

So what am I doing now? Hanging out at my apartment with my new pet beetle (he's under a glass and I've been watching him twitch on his back in his death throes for almost 24 hours now...I would slide a paper under there and set him free, but then he might come back! Maybe I could give him to the cats to play with...), blogging away my life, cheap bottle of wine from the 'servo' (that's Aussie-speak for gas station) at hand. I am one classy bitch.