the peacoat papers

wake up a woman

Sort of without meaning to, I became an advisor for my sorority's USC chapter.  It has been a good experience.  I've met some great women, and I'm glad it's part of my roster of obligations.

Last week the sorority hosted a small Christmas dinner for the advisers and I looked up and down the table at the collection of alumni.  The age range is several decades, and we come from all over the country.  We have different accents, had different sorority experiences, and lead vastly different lives in these post-college years.

When I was in college, I thought it would be fun to be an advisor, but I never actually followed through with it until the opportunity fell in my lap earlier this year.  It seemed like something I would do "later in my life." 

In fact, I have a whole list of things my 21-year-old self thought I would do "later in life."  I don't know when I thought "later in life" would come.  30?  I'm thirty now.  40?  50? 

You don't just wake up as the woman you want to be.  At some point you have to start taking the steps that will lead to that person you envision.

Some of the things I dreamed for myself are valid and pursuit-worthy (mother, volunteer) while other priorities have fallen away (junior league, executive).  This path will continue to evolve and change, I'm sure, but it doesn't happen by accident. 

Those ladies at the Christmas dinner each bring something different to the group, but we're all models for the college girls we advise.  And the older alumni are models for me.  No matter what stage of life we're in, someone is always looking up to us and we're always looking up towards someone else.    

Turning thirty, I'm reminded that life is chugging along.  The advisor position came to me, but most things won't.  I need to be more diligent about seeking out the experiences that will grow me as a wife and friend, as a person.

I need to remember to become the woman I want to be.

photo by anyjazz65 via flickr

my first fancy dinner party

In my little mind, I have always wanted to be one of those Women Who Throw Dinner Parties.  I imagined small and intimate groupings, but glamorous and interesting guests.  Artists and Writers and Painters and intense discussion and raucous laughter.  It sounds like a movie, right?  Not real life.

Then I turned thirty and had the sudden revelation that all those things I dream about, I actually need to start doing them. 

So I made a list.  Thirty things I want to do when I'm Thirty.  (I know I haven't published the list yet.  I will.)  Throw A Fancy Dinner Party was right on up there.  Auntie Mame-style. 

So I did.  Last week.  As if we didn't have anything else going on.

First I had a ten-foot outdoor table built.  I don't mean to toss that out there casually, I know that's not the most normal thing to do.  But I had been looking for a large solid wood table for months, and everything I found either wasn't quite right or was insanely expensive. 

So I turned to the guy who does all the props for The Gorilla's shows.  JP (who also built the tiki bar at the lake house) understood the simplicity of my vision, was able to built it for less than half the price of any other comparable table I'd seen, and he did it in two days.  TWO DAYS.  I just wanted to give him a big smooch.

 

Then I found a caterer.  Are you laughing?  Because when I said "I threw a dinner party," what I really meant was, "I set a nice table and brought in the food."

My main holdup on throwing a dinner party was the food.  I'm not a bad cook.  In the last two years I've become quite a decent cook.  But cooking for a group was too much pressure.  So I farmed it out.  And I'm not ashamed.  Laura of Laura's Comfort Gourmet is in my book club, and she just started a catering business.  I knew it would be good (it was) and things would be taken care of (they absolutely were), so I could focus on important details like flowers.  And candles.

I bought suitable outdoor placemats and dramatic glass candle-holders from Ikea.  I brought out all three patterns of my china (although this was not unusual, I am a believer in Using Your Nice Things), and almost every piece of stemware I own.

We had the bench on one side, but I didn't have time to find outdoor chairs, so we just brought down our regular dining room chairs.  

I went to my favorite local flower shop and in addition to buying flowers for the table, I also bought long green stems (leaves?  I don't know what you call them) to wrap around the cloth napkins.  It was the florists idea to staple them underneath.  I was going to tie them, or cut a slit to slip on end through another, but it didn't work so well.  So out came the stapler. 

 

And then, somehow, interesting people showed up.  And mixed with the pretty table and the candlelight, we had the most wonderful evening.  There were toasts made and stories told.

 

In addition to the yummy comfort food, there were appetizers and desserts and beer and wine and water and bread. 

 

And we were in our own home.  It was less costly than having the same gathering at a restaurant.  And it was infinitely more special.  That was the best part.

At the end of the night, when we were all exhausted of talking and full to the brim of good food, everyone helped carry things upstairs and even helped clean up.  It felt like family. 

 

It was like family.

officially thirty and there are things to do.

I woke up this morning, on this side of thirty, and I was instantly very serious and adult.  Okay, not really.  I slept in 'till 10:30am, then had a Dr. Pepper for breakfast. 

I did have a thought, while driving through Chick-Fil-A grumpy and hormonal, that I wanted to call and whine to my mom about, and I stopped myself.  I said to myself, "Laura, you are a full-fledged adult now, with a baby on the way.  You need to put on your big girl panties and stop this nonsense."  You see, this journey really is baby steps.

But I did buy this book.  It appealed to me, a list telling you what to do.  Sometimes I like being told exactly what to do and then following through.  I bought it on title alone, so I haven't read through it or even skimmed through it, so I can't promise that I'll do all thirty things.  But I am going to give it a whirl.  I'll let you know how it goes. 

I have a few things of my own that I want to do now, things that I've always thought would be "important" or "neat," but that I've managed to put off for a decade or so.  I'm throwing it all into one lump and calling it 30 at 30.

Goals are good.