Possibly one of the strangest days of my life

So back to my exciting weekend: Saturday was a trip! And by trip, I mean a visit into realities that are so far from my own.

I hope any reader out there picked up on the warning that I will pretty much talk about anything and everything in this blog, and this entry will just be one of those extra special glimpses into my life.

I started my day with a trip to my home town to attend the baby shower of one of my oldest friends.  I have known Karen since middle school and can still remember the first day I met her, laughing at our goofy teacher in computer class.  We always had the greatest time together, becoming inseparable and even leaving the public school system together to attend a parochial high school that my brother went to.

I had the privilege of standing up in her wedding two years ago, and after more than 6 months of trying, she and her husband finally got pregnant with their first child.  I couldn’t be happier or more excited for her.  

She and her husband moved to Philadelphia almost a year ago now, so when I got the invite to her Michigan based shower, I was ecstatic (no girl should go a year without seeing one of her best friends).  It wasn’t until I was driving there that I had to remind myself that this wouldn’t be our usual, careless hang out and catch up session… it was a baby shower, one of the most awkward things for a single girl like me who has no children and cannot picture them in her foreseeable future.  To me, any midday, non-work related social gathering that occurs on a Saturday or Sunday that doesn’t include alcohol is way out of my comfort zone.  A baby shower falls under this category.  After all, I was the friend at the shower that still had sharpied numbers on my hand from the bar the night before.

Note that I am not a huge drinker, but again, as a single twentysomething, alcohol is usually a mainstay at any event.  My parting text before leaving to my heterosexual soul mate was, “there will probably be balloons and no wine” (I HATE balloons…it is my weird phobia).

Excitement was restored when I arrived and was able to sit with 3 beautiful classmates of mine from high school.  It was so great to see these familiar faces, but I soon felt like I had sat down at a Russian only speaking math convention (not speaking a lick of Russian and being terrible at math).  All 3 of them being mothers to 1 if not 2 beautiful  children, the conversation naturally turned to breast feeding, breaking water, bed times, upcoming recitals and the highs and lows of motherhood and marriage.  

Natalie, an amazing woman who I was very close with in high school, kept looking at me and laughing because I clearly looked lost and out of place.  It was so strange that I graduated with these women, am the same age as them, but felt like I was from a completely different planet.  I had nothing to add about “which city was THE best for young families to build houses” or “whether a child should sleep in your bed or not”.  How does a person our age even afford to build a house?  I can hardly build up a canned goods collection in my cupboards. 

“Which gift is yours?”  I was asked by a woman sitting at our table, as she nodded toward the table loaded full of presents.  ”The one that’s not wrapped” I said, shoveling cake into my mouth, my stuffed lamb sat staring back at us, perched on top of the children’s book, just screaming, “bought by the single, non-mommy”… typical I suppose.

All in all, it was so great to see my friends and the beautiful women they have grown into, but it was good to come home to my bachelorette pad and a life I can relate to… well, I was safe for a few hours anyway.

That night, I had a the unique opportunity to see 2 of my co-workers and a good friend of mine compete in a figure show.  Never having been to a figure show, I had no idea what to expect.  I thought I had a vague idea, but it’s like that saying from the old MTV show “The Diary Of…” that said “You think you know, but you have no idea”.

The show was kicked off (25 minutes late) by a woman belly dancing while balancing a sword on her head, bending and twisting, and humping the air from a kneeling position.  I am pretty sure she was cross-eyed.  I wasn’t sure at this point what I had gotten myself into.  She was followed by another guest “poser” who was a short man in his 50’s wearing a dog collar and a leather thong with studded fringe hanging daringly over his butt, which he repeatedly turned and shook at the crowd.  He was dancing so hard I thought his dog collar was going to pop off.  I give them both major credit though, because they owned their performances and had clearly put a lot of work into their physiques… I just wasn’t prepared.

The show continued onto the women’s competition, and again, a world of credit is given to these women because they looked amazing, but dear God, I am pretty sure I was born in more fabric than these women were wearing.  I wanted to pop fresh bottles of Tylenol to use the cotton to string together a bigger outfit for them.  They would walk out, pose, then pivot to face the back of the stage in order to stick out their butts to show off their hamstrings.  At one point, there were 6 perfect asses just staring at me.  Had my boyfriend been there, I would have shot myself… I don’t need him knowing that asses like that actually exist in the greater Lansing area.  I like to thinks he believes that all asses look like they have taken fire from a meteor shower.

It honestly felt like a horse auction.  Contestants would stand up there and people would shout for their favorite.  I kept waiting for someone to yell, “$100 on number 3!”.  Again, though, it is a tough sport requiring a perfect diet and hours of dedication in the gym.  God bless em.  I couldn’t help but feel that I could have saved my $25 and felt like shit about myself at home.  Not to mention the fact that the MC kept announcing the “winner of the 2002…”, he didn’t get the memo that it was 2012.  Poor guy was either nervous or high. 

It was so worth it though to see my friends up there.  All of their time at the gym, struggling through the bland diet and sacrifice of any sort of social life paying off as people screamed for them on stage.  It was so motivating to see these people (as crazy as it was) showing off the product of their hard work.  It made me think twice about the drinks I was order that night to recover from the ocular rape that was the belly dancer and thong shaker. 

So, for now, I have had a sneak peak at mother hood and body building, and though motivating and fascinating, neither are for me at this particular juncture in life, but I have learned to never say never, so I wont cross them off of the list of possibilities. 

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