Writing Challenge #8- The Night of My 21st Birthday

Oh to be 21. My sweet grandma looking on at me and my childhood best friend Wendy.

 

So I totally blew the writing challenges this month.
Oh come on, you knew I would and I knew it too.
It was too much pressure.
April is a busy month here anyway with soccer starting for both girls and now I am freelancing in addition to doing side work AND trying to work on my screenplay.
All of those writing challenges were not getting done plus once I read through some of them and started to write them?
Holy balls.
Boring and very negative.
You wouldn’t have liked that side of me.
Trust me.

But I did stick to two writing challenges that I could hold to because I needed to write about them.
#8 the night of my 21st birthday and #9 something I am excited about.
Two reasons: I felt I needed to revisit my 21st birthday because it was appropriate (hello, birthday month) and I really want to talk to you about the something that I am excited about.
No I am not pregnant.
My 21st birthday will be one of those stories that my grand kids will tell to their children.
About how their grandma was incredibly socially awkward.
And how they are shocked the gene pool didn’t stop with their grandmother.

My 21st birthday was supposed to be legendary.
Well, legendary in my eyes.
See, when I was in my late teens and early twenties, I wasn’t going to frat parties and hanging out every weekend in the dorm.
I was working full-time.
When I met someone my age who was also working, I clung onto her like an 80’s teenager to a mullet.
Because finding someone to do stuff with back then was hard, man.

That someone was a girl that I mentioned last year in my poop sandwich post. 
She will remain nameless because it is my blog and I am still holding a grudge.
It is only as I am writing this that I now realize she not only ruined my then bachelorette party but also my 21st birthday.
MAN THAT CHICK WAS BAD NEWS.
But before all of that went down, we did do a lot together.
Because before I met her, I was known to be a little “Amish” to those whom I worked with.

Every time they asked me to go out after work, I turned them down.

“Sorry! I have to hot oil my hair!” 
“Umm I am waiting on my boyfriend to call me long distance!” 
“Gosh I wish but I have to pay bills! Maybe next time!” 


At that time in my life, I just didn’t like to party.
I was very content to go home after a long ten hour day/night at work, heat up dinner and watch Arsenio Hall with my mom.
I swear to God I am telling the truth. 

A few weeks before my 21st birthday, I had just bought my very first car.
I was so excited because I had bought it without any help from anyone.
I saved up the down payment, got the loan all by myself and went into the dealership with my dad and bought myself a car.
I may or may not have had my lunch break inside my car at work every day for the first month I owned it.
It was a proud moment in my life.

So the plan was going to be that my “friend” and I were going to go out on my 21st birthday, go to dinner in my fancy new car.
Maybe even have an alcoholic drink with one of those umbrella thingy’s.
She even said she wouldn’t drink and she would drive me home and have her brother pick her up.
Wasn’t that nice of her??
I bought a new outfit and was all excited to go out like real people do.
To a bar!
Where they serve alcohol that isn’t a Bartles and Jaymes wine cooler in a bottle!

It was as I was getting ready for my birthday extravaganza that I got the phone call.
My “friend” wasn’t going to be able to go out with me.
She was going to go with her brother to a movie instead.
My parents saved the day, as parents always do.
We ended up at the Dairy Queen, drowning my sorrows in a Peanut Buster Parfait. while sitting in my brand new car on my 21st birthday.
It didn’t sound pathetic until I was re-telling it to someone a few years later.
What did you do on your 21st birthday?
“I spent it with my parents at the DQ after my friend ditched me”.
But as I get older I find that it was one of my better birthdays.

I see the differences in my children now, as there is an eight year age gap.
One is all about being away from her parents, the other is desperately in love with her parents but on the cusp of being independent.
I know one would love a birthday party for three at the DQ while the other one would look at it as one of the worst punishments in the world.
One day, that too will change in direction for both girls.
It is such a storm we are riding in with these children.
This one of love and pain and constant change that tears me up inside yet brings me joy at another turn.

I am so glad I had that DQ birthday party on my 21st birthday with my parents.
I am so glad they were there to save the day.
As for my girls, I will always have the car keys waiting for an impromptu Dairy Queen party.
And I am always happy to share with them the wonders of Arsenio Hall.
Woof woof woof.

 

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