Almost a year ago, I got married.
I was unaware of this, but just before you get married, they cage you in a room with your bridesmaids, keep the food away, and don't let you go anywhere. Well, except maybe for the bathroom. But only because if they didn't, you might pee on your too-expensive, too-pretty dress. I would say it's akin to being a lion in the zoo at night when no one is gawking at you or throwing delicious flanks of your favorite animals to you.
My galpals (the lionesses) and I had an inordinate amount of time to wait in a tiny room with one blocked-out window. Luckily, one of them had been married before (but isn't anymore) and was aware of this tricky little moment no one warns you about. She, let's call her the genius, brought along a somewhat slutty, choose-your-own-adventure novel.
You did, indeed, read that correctly. In it, you decide if the main character will go to college or the beach; if she'll go to europe or start a novel; if she'll fall in love with a computer tech or have 15 one night stands in 18 days; steal money from the mob or realize she's a lesbian. And a million other little decisions.
I think in the best version of this story we created, the main character went to college, but dropped out when she realized she loved to cook. So she moved to europe, went to pastry school, started working for a small bakery where they smuggled gold doubloons in ciabatta bread for the mob, stole a BUNCH of doubloon infested ciabatta, fled Italy and traded it in for France. Fell in love with an equally rich woman, and they lived happily ever after and died in their sleep as old ladies.
Now don't get me wrong, her number of exploits was comical throughout the day. I think we killed her with our choices 75% of the time. She drowned (don't go to the beach!), was in a tragic accident, went home with the wrong guy, fell into a vat of icing... you get the picture. The girl just made bad decisions (er, or we did for her), but somehow, when we chose STEAL FROM THE MOB! we manage to keep her alive.
I saw this book resting on our bookshelf this morning and it got me started thinking about where exactly my life turned, and I got to the point I'm at now. I can think of 2 possible turning points, I'll give you the less scary of the two.
When you're 18, and just 3 months shy of being graduated from high school... you have to know that your life is about to change. But mine changed before I was expecting it to. I was getting ready to head to a college that I was 100% not excited about, and dragging my feet because kicking and screaming was not within my realm of capabilities. So, I stepped out of my box.
After singing at a family friend's wedding, I was offered a job working at a small cigar bar in downtown Atlanta as a lounge singer. Yeah. That definitely sounds like code for high-class call girl, but it was exactly as described. Every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night until midnight, you could catch me wearing sequins and lace draped over a baby grand helmed by a beautiful, white-haired 73-year-old man, and singing songs that are generally relegated to records.
It's completely out of character. Hell, singing at the wedding wasn't something I would generally do. I was a little (coughVERYcough) shy. Don't get me wrong, I had a lot of confidence once you got to know me. Hell, I was woefully opinionated (hah. I used the past tense. Like that stopped after highschool), but for some reason, it didn't translate into groups. It's an odd mixture of qualities when you're both confident in yourself and painfully unwilling to interject into a conversation. I think I can blame it on only half-assedly learning the french-woman's confidence.
But, I digress. So, I took this job working at a club (which has sadly closed, but what hasn't) where I had a dressing room full of costumes and sang to about 60 25-70-year-old men (I guess sometimes women, Scherbatsky-style) who were just out and about bro-style after work. It was amazing. Every weekend from 8 to midnight, I was someone else. I was sultry, glamorous even. I was outgoing, I WINKED at and FLIRTED with people. (By the way, your winking muscles CAN atrophy. See photo at beginning of entry.)
And the best part was, all of my friends were too young to be there (so they couldn't stand slack-jawed by the door), my boyfriend had no idea that I was doing this (and therefore didn't know what I was up to every weekend) and I learned to speak up for myself, even if it was from pretending I was strong and confident from 3 feet above everyone else in a room.
Before this turns into a story of how I learned to casually let men down and turn down drinks, I'll get to my point. I think working there was the turning point. I think it made me able to say, "hey... Mom, Dad... I know you thought I would start to like this College, that it would grow on me. And I've tried, I really have, but it BLOWS. I've already put in applications to switch to bigger schools where I can do more than tip cows with frat boys," instead of just dealing with it and sticking it out 'til graduation as I'm sure I would have had it not been for rings of cigar smoke.
And more importantly, if I hadn't switched schools: 1) my boyfriend wouldn't have dumped me --well, we would have broken up, 'cause he was an ass and I would have realized this eventually 2) I wouldn't have met three girls who taught me to be fun and live on my own 3) I wouldn't have met my husband 4) I never would have started running cafes.
So, I'm glad I chose for my own main character to "become a lounge singer" over "waiting tables at insert name of terrible neighborhood chain here" cause god knows where I'd be if the menu from Appleby's came to me naturally.
I shudder at the thought.
