first and foremost, last week's self-imposed bed time was pretty great. i didnt' always fall asleep right at 10:30, but just having a reason to curl up with my cat (yep, going to be single forever) and settle in to sleep has been great. i also have a DVR for a reason. the TV will still be there for me in the morning, and just because i can't live tweet doesn't mean that i'm losing anything.
safe to say, this is going to continue to be something i aim for weekly, though i will probably continue to stay up late for scandal, because shonda rhimes is KILLING it right now guys. seven fifty-two, indeed.
so now that we know that last week's "lesson" was a success, let me fill you in on the other few notes of my obvious elderly state.
i spent friday night enjoying the beautiful spring weather and having
naturally, this means i stayed out until past midnight dancing and drinking with some truly awesome people. naturally.
luckily, i managed to invest in a couple slices of delicious pizza on my way home to try and stave off any hangover in the morning. buddy helped me eat the crust in bed (i know i'm not supposed to give him people food, mom, but he wouldn't take no for an answer!) unfortunately, the tasty slices did not help me sleep safe and sound.
6am came bright and early. like real early, guys. i managed to scrape together my knee pads, high socks and shoes, threw on my spandex (oh yeah, super sexy) and sweats and headed to duane reade to buy all the gatorade and most of the food to stock up for the day. then i took the 6 train almost to its end. for real, 21 stops and it went above ground. i was unaware that the 6 train wet above ground, so it was definitely a surprise for someone (i.e. me) who was not in the mood to deal with sunlight.
i ate my (two) bagels and tried to buck up for my team. it seemed to be that after the first game, my dehydration from the drinking and massive sweating, which i am wont to do, made me drunk again. if that's possible. it sure as hell felt that way, at least. so needless to say, i felt great.
until i saw that three of the teams in the tournament were college club teams. and they were so young. like, so young. i consider myself a young person and like to think that i could still pass for an undergrad student. well, i used to at least. because i literally looked across the net at one point and couldn't distinguish the setter (something you do in competitive vball. look, you learned something today!) from anyone else. they were literally all 18, blonde and tall-ish in identical uniforms. the spandex i was wearing were from my senior year of high school, so basically almost as old as they were. that was an ego blow.
the tournament itself went pretty well, we came in second place and i got some sweet new sweat pants as a reward. but we did play 7 games in the span of about 7 hours. and not to brag, but i'm pretty good at the game (i've been playing for more than half my life, so i should be by this point), which meant that there was no time of me sitting on the bench. i'm also extremely aggressive - shocker - and have no qualms about throwing my body across the floor in the chance to try and keep the ball up. and for some reason, my body doesn't heal quite as fast as it used to.
in the past, i would've been able to go out drinking after a day of playing. hell, i literally did that in college, and pretty damn well at that. but between the friday drinking and the saturday sports, i was one tired bitch. i fell asleep on the couch before smash could even come on at 8pm. and lord knows there is nothing i love more than a good hate-watching and live-tweeting of smash. buddy woke me up before 10 and was disappointed that instead of playing with him for a while, i just moved locations and slept hard for another 11 hours.
he was also disappointed that it took me 20 minutes to get out of bed this morning because EVERYTHING HURTS AND I WANTED TO DIE. shoulders, back, ass, legs, feet, knees and neck were all screaming when i even considered moving them. this is not how it used to be. why is this happening? i just want to play sports and drink beers and feel nothing. why am i not still 22?
okay, rant over. because let's be honest, the insecurity of 22 is not something that i wish for ever again. neither is the pay grade, amiright?
you know what is great about being 28? taking newsworthy stories and making them applicable for real life. case in point? while sitting in the park today with my besties, most of whom are single like me, we were discussing flirting. my friend (shall remain nameless for this one) mentioned that she's finally getting the hang of flirting. extremely outgoing and will talk to everyone, she mentions how she needs to start with the light arm touch and the laugh. i, being the asshole that i am, tell her that she needs to lean in. and not sheryl sandberg style figuratively, but LITERALLY lean into a man when speaking with him. that way he can look down your shirt and tell you are interested (hi mom!). yeah, i'm making some real good choices and giving great advice to people.
the other great thing about being 28? being able to spring for the 10 minute massage at the end of your mani/pedi. because damn, it hurt so good today guys.