#50 something

I had a serious middle aged old fart moment today. I was sitting at my desk, eating my lunch, and a thought popped into my head. I finished the laundry. All of the laundry in the house is washed, dried, and folded (though there’s some that still needs to be put away). I thought to myself… all the laundry is done… that is awesome. Then I thought, if my 16 year old self heard me say that the…

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Gala Events, Conferences and Sensible Shoes

I recently read a humorous blog on the perils of attending conferences or gala events as a middle-aged woman and felt inspired to chime in on the joys and pitfalls.

Long gone are the days when I attempted a high fashion look that felt awkward. I grew up living in the shadow of Twiggy and a style that applauded a dangerously thin appearance. At 5’ 9’ with a medium bone structure, I look back at old pictures and think, “damn, what a foxy gal!” Sadly, at the time, the Twiggy complex seriously thwarted my self-image. I was one of the many young women that at a toned and fit weight of 130 pounds looked in the mirror and only saw fat.

Nonetheless, I tried my hand at fancy Farrah Fawcett hairstyles, high-heeled shoes, donned myself with tight skirts, low cut blouses, jewelry, red nail polish, and applied makeup. I confess I used to look at the 50 something women and gloated. I felt glee that sensible shoes and clothing that draped, rather than hugged and exposed body parts, was my far away future and not my present.  Yet, I recall envying the relaxed demeanor of these same women who were not afraid to openly enjoy the whole dinner, eat multiple deserts and boisterously laugh aloud.

Now at the age of 55, I no longer attempt high-heeled shoes. I wore my last pair eight years ago after I fell off a pair of wedge sandals in San Diego.  I remember my brother tried to break my fall as the crowd watched the inevitable spectacle of me thudding to the ground. I still hear the voice of a person’s super intelligent commentary, “Wow that must have hurt.”

Conference crowds are noisy places, and it is difficult to hear what people are saying. I try to laugh in the right places hoping I not to accidentally guffaw at an in appropriate time. Which I did once when a conference attendee shared that she walked in on her boyfriend romping with another lover. (However, in my defense, what awkward information to share during a business-networking meet and greet moment)

A morning person with a sharp, fully engaged mind, by late afternoon my intellectual capacity diminishes and by evening, I am a disaster. It is better I am alone as weird information drops out of my mouth. Strange emails that should never see the light of day, let alone be out on the internet forever, are written.

Even with nametags, I call someone by the wrong name. Worse, that person not only remembers my name, but everything about my life that I shared at the opening breakfast meet and greet.

I often spill food on myself, and on occasion silverware goes flying out of my hands due to a spastic attack of nerves. I wear flat shoes, yet manage to trip over a nonexistent bump in the floor. Buttons and zippers always open at some point in the evening – and not because a handsome guy is fumbling to get in my clothes.

In spite of the potential dork moments, I enjoy attending conferences.  I relish exploring new places, meeting interesting people, and exploring ideas in the workshops.  In the evening if I need a break, I pile the buffet food on a plate to flee to the quiet safety of my room.  I am always delighted to find other kindred conference spirits in the elevator doing the same.  After exchanging shy glances, someone breaks the code of elevator silence, we all end up sharing a final laugh and then scurry our separate ways.

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and then as we were leaving janice came to me and was like, "do you want my sweater?"

AND SHE LITERALLY JUST TOOK OFF HER SWEATER AND GAVE IT TO ME

BC I OFF-HANDEDLY COMPLIMENTED IT

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3AtRBlRQ-I&feature=related

Oktober '12

~Chill~