Y is for Young People Taking Over My Bar

I realize 27 is not that old. However, the bar that I do karaoke at on the weekends, normally has a population old enough to be my parents. This is good for me. They appreciate when I sing older songs, and they're much more fun to hang out with. For me anyway.
Let me explain. Is 6 weeks I have not attended karaoke, the population has gone from 40 + to 21 and 22; my sister-in-law, B, is one of these. But, when I am in a bar surrounded by 21 and 22 year olds, I feel like they are children. In some ways they are.
The crowd of people there now cannot relate to me in the same way someone who is been through my stage of life can. Younger people want to get drunk and have fun; I want to relax and have a moment away from my children.
Also, 21 and 22 year olds who can eat whatever they want, drink whatever they want, and have a size 0 waste it is disheartening. Yes, I have had kids and I should be happy with my body image. Most of the time I am, but every once in awhile it really sucks to not be in a size 4.
Did I mention that it changes the whole energy of the bar. Now I don't feel like I belong. Instead of being the young fresh face, I am now just an older person with nothing to contribute to the party. I'd like to think that at 21 and 22 I realized that people close to or over 30 could be just as much fun as my peers. Actually, I did know that; when I was 21 I was marrying my husband and he was 27.
The change of the age group at my bar will not stop me from going karaoke; I need the night out every once in awhile. I just wish I could have my old friends back. Pun completely intended.

I Stand Out on my Own Terms

I am a self-proclaimed karaoke junkie. I try to go once a week. And I used to be really good. Now I'm just good. I used to get the largest applause in the bard, now, I sometimes get applause if I have lots of friends there with me. My brother-in-law thinks this is because I've lost my passion for singing. I think he's right.

I also used to turn heads. I'm married and it's ok that I don't. But I'm vain and I miss it sometimes. I know, bad. But at least I'm honest about it. It could be that I've gained weight (I like to think that's not why and that everyone just knows I'm off the market. Yes, I do know almost everyone in the bar on the nights I go for karaoke). It kills me that I started meds to make me healthy and have gained close to 50lbs. If I have to choose between healthy and skinny, I choose being bigger and healthy. Larch is not so shallow as to leave me for my weight gain.

ANYWAYS...back to my karaoke habit.

I went out on Mardi Gras. Being as I don't normally take part in Lent and I'm not into flashing people other than my husband, I didn't realize it was Fat Tuesday until I got to the bar. It was pretty dead considering. It was also my favorite KJ, Sam's, birthday. (I normally make him cupcakes, but this year I forgot.)

Dead bar or not, I turned heads again. This time on my terms. I wore victory rolls and 1940's inspired blouse. And a large flower in my hair.  So what if most of the heads I turned were that of my friends, L and M, and my KJ Sam. I also caught the attention of a WWII vet, who came over just to tell how pretty I was, (blush) and how much he loved my hair. It reminded him of his youth.

I stood out because I choose to. I stood out because I looked like a women who would sing Billie Holiday songs (I did sing one, God Bless the Child). I didn't look like I was trying to hard to be hot, I didn't stand out for my mental illness. It didn't matter that I've noticeably gained weight. I didn't look like a frazzled mother of two preschoolers. I stood out because I choose to look vintage, and pretty. I got my passion back from the small boost of confidence.

And it felt really good to bring a man from  "the greatest generation" a memory and a smile.