So last night I “dragged” Fiancé to a Media Mavens Party that i read about on the Glamazon Diaries.
Now if there is one thing I have always aspired to be it was “popular.” I’ve had a low self image of myself since probably freshman year of high school, and thus tend to not do well in large social situations where I’m on my own. Because Fiancé had a work thing come up, he was late meeting me. Thus I was at a bar, a large one, on my own without knowing anyone. It was…a sad moment for me, and I felt myself get nervous wondering if people were laughing at me because I was the girl with a glass of wine not talking to anyone but rather tweeting on her cell phone.
I had hoped it would be more of a networking type of event, a chance for me to meet and greet media people and do some networking and maybe get a foot in the door. Not so fast. It was a bunch of “bo-bo’s” as Fiancé referred to them as. And once again this inferiority complex I battle with came into play – seriously. My shoes were about 3 inches too short and about $200 too cheap. My dress didn’t glitter enough, my hair was a little frizzy because no matter what I do to it by 5pm it always looks like shit. Maybe it was just me, but the people were cliquier than the Mean Girls, over dressed (who has time to go home and then come back dressed to the nines?!) As I stood there waiting for Fiancé to show up since he went to 15th street first (no idea why) I realized more and more that I wasn’t cut out for this and I just wanted to go home.
You see, I was never the cool girl, I was never “popular”. In high school I never went to football games (well a couple of them), hockey games or was invited out to parties. I was average. In college, i built up a great group of pals – we partied together, ate together, laughed together and cried together. But somehow in my head, my great group of pals was never…enough. All through college, I chased Hockey players and drowned myself in student activities thinking I could do more and meet more people and somehow be…more “popular”. Or something. I don’t know. But somewhere along the line “popularity” became irrelevant. The Ex used to call this constant…chasing “grass is greener” syndrome. And while I have never had the same sort of “grass is greener” attitude with Fiancé like I did with the ex, I sense it may have still been there on a different level. A social level as opposed to the relationship level.
So, when I moved to DC, I had high hopes for meeting great people, you know the ones who hang out in Georgetown five nights per week sporting Vineyard Vines and classy clothing that I can’t possibly afford unless I find it on the Marshall’s rack. I wanted to be them, I wanted to forget everything I left behind in Boston, forget about the failed relationship I ended, forget about the drama I had managed to get so caught up in. Until I realized that that crowd? Full of douchebags. Just read the LNS forums. My roommates and I had our own fun – we were regulars on the Front Page Dance Floor in Dupont, and had parties that left me in bed for hours the next day nursing hangovers that I hadn’t nursed since I was 21. Then, I met fiancé, settled down and now? After last night, I realized I don’t need that crowd, I don’t want to be a part of that. I don’t need to fit in anymore. I’m not 15 anymore, I’m no longer that awkward transfer student who doesn’t know anyone. I don’t need hordes of people who piggy back off their parents wealth to make me feel accepted, I have a great friends. Friends I’d much rather hang out with at Finns, laugh and control the jukebox with. Friends that I can share wine with, and giggle with and go watch cheesy movies with. Friends that I meet up with once a month to talk about books with but mostly gossip with because we’re girly girls. I might not be on the list for Smithpoint but I get regular discounts at my local pub where they know me by name. There’s nothing wrong with this, why would I ever want something different? I’m not a socialista. My manners aren’t always impeccable, and my white shirts often have stains on them (thank god for cardigans!) I prefer Target ballet flats to Manolo Blahniks (though they are pretty to look at!), and J Crew over Tory Burch, but my friends are great, and sure they don’t have trust funds but so what? So. What.
Really, I just needed to be okay with this all and sitting standing at the bar last night, looking around me at the overdressed gals who I would never fit in with, and the dudes who probably make more than I’ll ever make in a lifetime, I realized fitting in isn’t important anymore. I don’t know when it stopped being important but probably sometime around when my friends and I began taking over the Our House East dance floor in full swing in 2005-2006. We had our own inside jokes, our own pre-gaming nights, our own drunk brunches. After all that, and all those great memories about the Party Girl who used to be? Why do I need to be a “socialista?” I looked at fiancé after downing the rest of my wine and said “you ready to go home to our puppy?” He smiled at me and said “sure.” So home we went. Greeted by a waggity tail and some more destruction, but we were home. I slipped into my overly worn sweatpants that are slightly shrunken from an unfortunate bout in the drier for the first time, and turned on John Mayer, responded to some emails, tumbled a bit and was absolutely, completely, happy.
Not sure what I was trying to prove by going to that event but it did prove one thing, that I am completely happy with what I have – and I may never be the queen of the Junior League, or even a member (still debating) but I have it pretty good for now and that? Is all that really matters.
” See, I refuse to believe
That my life’s gonna be
Just some string of incompletes
Never to lead me to anything remotely close to a home life
Been holding out for the home life
My whole life
I can tell you this much
I will marry just once
And if it doesn’t work
Giver her half of my stuff
It’s fine with me
We said eternity
And I will go to my grave
With just the life that I gave
Not just some melody line
On a radio wave
It dissipates
And soon evaporates
But home live doesn’t change”
-John Mayer “home life”
