The past two weekends, I’ve been out and about in a couple different bars in Seattle that I used to call my stomping grounds, but not so much anymore. Without being able to pinpoint when the exact transition happened, I found myself feeling a bit older than the crowds, a bit less likely to puke in the bathroom or knock over someone’s drink while stumbling by, a bit more likely to head home early so I can get up and jam out a workout or list of errands without feeling like death. I felt out of place in the singles scene – something I thrived in just a short year ago. I felt out of place in the 20-something scene – despite belonging to the club for another three years. In each bar, I looked around the room and thought to myself: getting old sucks.
I used to be the 22-year-old out with her group of stylish friends who made guys’ heads turn. I used to know bartenders, door guys and cocktail waitresses. I used to be able to post up at bars where I knew everyone and had all my drinks discounted. I felt like I owned the city – I could go out at a number of different bars in a number of different neighborhoods and see people I knew. I was a networking, friend-making, drinking and bar-scene machine.
But, that’s all tapered off. The thought of getting up in the morning to make it to work by 8 a.m. makes me want to stab my eyeballs out. Throw booze into that equation, and I’d be burning through my sick days faster than I could accumulate them. Read: I’m a sucker for going to sleep early on “school nights.” And, I feel like more often than not, I’m opting for one stay-in night and one party night on the weekends. When I go big both Friday and Saturday nights, I’m left feeling like I need a weekend from my weekend.
“I feel like just another face in the crowd,” I said to my boyfriend, after explaining all of this awkward “I’m not that girl anymore” stuff to him on our walk home from one of these said bars Saturday night. “You’re still cute. You stand out to me,” he responded.
Cute or not, I’m feeling a bit awkward these days. People say moving into your upper 20s, and eventually your 30s, is great. We’re supposed to be more financially stable, more sure of ourselves. I’ve been wondering when the pay-off happens because at 27, I’m feeling too old for some bars; okay with staying in, but depressed with the lull of life; financially semi-stable-but-a-lot-of-times-rocky; and generally a little unfulfilled.
I’m trying to find something else that fulfills me other than feeling like the center of attention in a bar – something a bit more healthy and sane. But the transition, the next “phase” of life, which most people my age are going through, is just another awkward room where I feel like I don’t belong. Marriage in my 20s is just not for me. Sometimes, I think back about all the ridiculous shenanigans and stories from my 20-something days of being out six or seven nights a week, and I feel like I was laughing and loving a whole lot more back then. Or at least saying to myself, “I LOOOOVE my life” a whole lot more.
I need to fall in love with my life again – the one where I’m staying in more often than I’m going out – I just don’t know how to do it.
Ah, so true. This was a big reason for my move to Tacoma.
I moved out of Bellingham when I didn't feel excited about being at the Up&Up or Horseshoe.
Likewise, a big night out in Ballard no longer demands the Matador, Kings and the Lock and Keel.
I'm hoping to find some new spots in Tacoma. And when I grow tired of that scene… onwards and upwards.
I don't know if it's that I grow "old" or grow "bored." I don't think I outgrow any particular place, but my tastes change as do my appetites for certain scenes. I can still get equally excited going out, but "routine" going anywhere loses its luster after awhile.
P.S. I feel like the "out with her group of stylish, skinny friends" was a shot. Are you rolling out with a herd of cows now, or what? Ha!
Precisely why I’ve hemmed and hawed over moving away – I feel a little bored with Seattle and need to change. But, needing a job to move, and the present economy makes it a bit difficile.
P.S. I redacted that skinny comment. It didn’t seem quite right when I wrote it – all my friends are still skinny. Haha. I guess maybe I just feel not as skinny as I used to be (in my early 20s). Whatevs.
I think Paolo might be the first person ever to move from Seattle to Tacoma to lead a more exciting life.
It’s not so bad … you just develop different habits and go to different bars.
Hangovers get a lot worse as you get older!
Not true. The SuperSonics did it first.
A million times over, Je, I know how you feel. I felt it especially after turning 30.
BUT it was a good feeling — like, I didn’t need to try so hard to enjoy my life. I was TRULY enjoying it. It’s as if all the bullshit of your 20s magically disintegrated.
Yeah, I still feel ruts (especially now, feeling like I need a move and a big change, but I cannot sell my condo UGH!), and I’ll probably never get my shit together financially. But I came to an age to realize the “bar popularity” and Big Fish/Little Pond status symbol meant NOTHING to me anymore.
uh hello, my names crazicia, have we met?
i may steal your post, as it so very closely explains my current situation. did you write this for my 30th bday present?
the thing i’m most freaked out about(in regards to bars)is others perception of my age. like when are you “that old bitch” trying to fit in? i mean, i feel(fairly)young still. oh so clique.
@Paolo
Oooh. Tsss Good one.
@Mel
I’m slowing getting there, I just feel a bit stubbly in the transition from party girl to calm girl. Well, who am I kidding, I’ll never be calm – just crazy busy in a less drunk way.
It’s good to hear that all the bullshit magically disintegrated – something to look forward to.
@Crazicia
Do we get the recap post of your 20s tomorrow?? Happy Birthday!
Girl, you know it! This was written, especially for you.
P.S. I worry about that too – like do others look at me and think I look old? I don’t think so yet, since I’m often told I look 23 when people try to guess. But I fear the day!
I, of course, feel I have to say something on this subject.
I feel the same way as your reader Mel. It didn’t happen until a year after the 30th birthday though. Between 27 and 28 I had an epiphany and left my husband, between 28-29 I partied like I was 22 and then I turned 30. (which birthday you might remember I got wasted and had to leave early).
I totally felt that same way about feeling a little like “another face in the crowd”. My perspective now is I really don’t care what people think and I don’t want to be part of that crowd that necessarily cares all the time what everyone else is thinking. I love dressing up and going out because I feel good not because I hope some randoms in a bar notice me.
I love my life more now because, for me, there’s more substance. When I go out, I know I’m not breaking the bank (because I’m not spending all my money at bars every night anymore) and it took me awhile, but I learned how to maintain and don’t get too drunk and weird!
Ok, I’m done ranting…but while it took me a couple of years, I do love my 30’s.
I have so many things to say about this subject, but I’m not going to rant about it over here (especially since I’m pretty sure we’ve discussed our crippling loathing for boredom before). I’m just going to say that I stayed Bellingham for six years because I was terrified to make the next move. Some could say I’m staying out East because I’m scared of what comes next, too — the mid-20s really are a terrifying time!
You summed this time in our lives up so well.
It’s become well-accepted among my college friends (a group that could party with the best of them just a few years ago) that we’re typically a one-night-per-weekend party crowd now. Some of us are married, one has a kid already, and most people (present company excluded) are coupled.
As a single girl who’s tired of the bar scene, sometimes this whole thing gets kind of exhausting.