Oh, hello! Lovely salad today. Dressing on the side.
I used to be fun. Honest.
Back in the day, I would get dressed up and go out with my friends. We’d drink, and dance, and laugh, and pick up boys (who wanted to be men.) The night would be considered young at 10pm. Heck, we wouldn’t even leave the house until after 10. That was back when people could still smoke in bars – you’d come home reeking of cigarettes, and need to take a shower. Sleep (or pass out) for a few hours, then start making plans to do it all again.
But, somewhere along the way, my fun got broken. I’ve been trying to figure out what happened to it, and when, but the thought of going out and being jostled in a loud, too crowded bar holds all the appeal of the cats chewing my toes off. Maybe it’s a function of getting older, or the after effects of being betrayed by the above mentioned friends, or the result of acquiring more mature friends, or being more choosy with who I do consider a friend, but my fun seems to be gone. (I know I previously described how I suck at the whole “I wanna be your friend” thing, so I won’t go there.)(Okay, just one thing about that – if someone calls to go to lunch or dinner or whatever, and I am not *completely* sure they are among my handful of friends? I experience something that can only be described as a mild panic attack. Seriously. WTF is wrong with me??)
Now, it seems that “going out” is more around the happy hour time frame. A lovely night is home, with a book. Dinner out? I’d love for it to be done by 8pm. Bed? On a school night, I like nothing more than to be in bed by 9, reading. Weekends? It’s later, but still not the crazy early morning hours of the next day. It’s a very low-key, comfortable existence.
But the more I think about my fun and what happened to it, I realize that what I have really *is* just an existence. Sure, it’s comfortable, it works (sort of), it’s somewhat lonely, but I’m not really *living*. I do have fun when I go out with my true friends. Or when I go to the hockey games with Herb. I really do. But how do I get out of my head, stop over analyzing every word/look/gesture with the ones who haven’t forced their way in. (And let’s face it – they do have to force their way in. And for those that have? Thank goat they did. I cherish them.)
Maybe once I stop expecting the worst from people, or suspecting the worst of myself, I will be able to find the instructions and fix my fun. I just hope that all the years of sweeping it into the corner, and moving it from one apartment to another, from one state to another, and finally to this house, haven’t permanently crushed it. I suspect the pieces have been pretty disintegrated and crushed, but maybe not irreparably harmed. Hopefully, with a little bottle of self-love, a healthy-sized box of kind words, and a final rinse-off of trust, my fun will re-emerge as some shadow of its former self. Maybe then, I will be able to water it daily, play it good music, feed it good food, and have it return stronger than before. To be clear, I have no desire to relive the crazy days of leaving the house at 10pm and driving home (usually drunk. I know. You don’t have to say it. I KNOW!) several hours later. But I do want to not be suspicious of people and their motives. I do want to know that I have something to offer/contribute. I do want to hear myself laugh until my tum hurts.
I miss my fun. I hope it hasn’t given up all hope. After all, I did keep it with me for all this time, despite my neglect. That should count for something, right?
MagAndMoo's Blog 
Lesley
Debra is so right – it’s just that as we get older, our fun gets redefined. (She’s smart, that girl.) There is NOTHING more fun to me than having dinner with really good friends and sharing good food and drinks and great conversation. Boring to some, bliss to me!
Someday, my rear is going to get back to Maine. And if so, I’d love to meet and share just one of these kinds of dinners!!! DEAL??
magandmoo
Deal!! Imma hold you to that!
Tricia
i wish you lived closer, all my fun grew up and got lives and families…now it’s just me and i’m BORED
jessiebelle5
This was my exact thought yesterday when all my friends were out for Halloween. There were so many parties I could have gone to. In years gone by I wouldn’t have even contemplated staying in on Halloween..especially when it was on a Saturday night. Yesterday tho I decided that I needed a night in. To recover. And you know what, it was great. There was trashy tv, tea and cake. I felt old and boring. But I was happy. I love going out and letting loose once in a while but I now no longer feel I have to be out and about to be liked 🙂
Pingback: What was I thinking?? « MagAndMoo's Blog
lphop
“a little bottle of self-love….”
I like that!
FUN changes as we get older but so does our ability to
decipher what fun is 😉
An early morning walk, a dance class, 5 straight hours
of gardening…yes, this is what’s fun for me now 🙂
Lynn
magandmoo
Hi! Thanks for your comment. And thanks for stopping by! I’ve ordered my bottle of self love so I should be able to find my fun soon!
debra
My old fun and your old fun sound very similar. I think we do not lose our fun as much as it gets redefined. If I had to spend an evening in a crowded bar, getting hassled by every drunken idiot who lurched into me, I would feel tortured, not happy. But back in the day, hey, that was a good Saturday night. 🙂
Fun can be had at every age, you just need to figure out what makes you happy and do that. I understand about the trusting people thing but sometimes, if it is just dinner or just a movie, you can probably just let go and have a good time without worrying if this is someone to whom you want to spill your darkest secrets.
Good luck! I know you’ll find your fun again. I only wish we lived closer. We would have fun, I know it.