^This title is an actual quote from me a few months ago, when Dave and I were determining if we could stay up past 8:30 and (gasp) maybe even be social twice in one 7-day period.
Ask me about my hobbies — or simply what I do for fun — and I will probably laugh nervously, deflect with the fact that I used to be a bit of a gamer… 3 children ago… and neglect to mention that I volunteer to fold laundry because I can save it till after bedtime and watch an episode of vapid reality TV while I do so (fun!).
I have a lot of thoughts about this observation, why “having fun” is disproportionately a challenge for women, and feel very understood after listening to the We Can Do Hard Things podcast titled “FUN: What the hell is it and why do we need it?” But this post is not (really) about that.
I’m on the eve of heading out of town for a few days with the girls. And because of aforementioned commentary on my wild ways, “the girls” refers to my mom, my sister, my aunt, and some favorite cousins. We have big plans that involve ordering takeout for dinner if it’s rainy, going out to dinner if it’s sunny, and ending the night with wine on the beach either way.
And then, tonight, it occurred to me: what if there’s time for extra fun?! I packed accordingly.
At the end of the day, here’s what evidently makes the cut for me on a no-commitments weekend, planning for fun:
- A book (yes, the same one referenced here… still working on it). I know this to be an objective source of enjoyment after I blissfully consumed 5 books during my 7 day honeymoon.
- A puzzle, large enough to take several hours, but simple enough to allow for conversation and collaboration over strict concentration.
- My cross-stitch project bag because I am secretly a senior citizen.
- Headphones in case I want to watch Gilmore Girls as I fall asleep.
- My sleep mask because I insist on sleeping past 6am no matter what my internal clock says.
I guess the important point is this: I have my out-of-office message up at work, Dave is amped up with a list of activities for his dad + lads days, and whether it photographs well or not, you better believe I will be having fun this week.
wine from a can and
poker with kix-based antes.
adulting is fun.
We moved into our current home shortly after J was born. In the months that followed, we met the couple that lived two doors down from us, Julie and Joe. We became fast friends, bonding over our similar life stage, easy interactions, and — despite our seemingly collective adult maturity — our mutual enjoyment of vapid reality TV. On Mondays after putting our kids to bed, we would get together, turn on the Bachelor, talk through half of the scenes, and polish off a bottle of wine (or two) over the course of the show.
Unfortunately, Julie and Joe moved a few miles away just before the pandemic began. But fortunately, by this time we had already firmly established our friendship and a mutual understanding that no one seek or share spoilers once the next Bachelor/Bachelorette season began.
In recent years, we started a bet: during episode one, everyone picks their projected winner for the upcoming season. Loser buys dinner. It’s silly, but the text threads trash talking each other’s picks or lamenting one’s own pick blatantly self-sabotaging has been a way to keep the casual conversation virtually alive even during COVID times when we didn’t see much of each other.
All this to say, Julie lost the latest season, and made good on the bet to take us out to dinner. But because Julie does nothing halfway, the night out warrants its own entire post.
First: we went to a charming speakeasy-style basement bar and had dinner and a couple of drinks. Julie encouraged us to have more than one, as a matter of fact, to make the second part of our date extra effective.
We went to a “Pinspiration” site, which essentially involved us agonizing over creating an artistic vision for something meant to be super low-stakes, and then dancing around in a black-lit room splattering paint everywhere while listening to a 2000s throwback playlist. Suffice it to say, the extra drinks were indeed the right call.
The final spot on our tour-de-double-date was a bar that I would’ve sworn was a divey biker hangout (having never been there, of course), but evidently is a thriving, historical gem, known across Michigan for live music, drinks, and family friendly fare (so say Julie and Joe, who bring their kids for lunches).
We called it a night at about 10:30, after one of us unfortunately got an email that they had a last-minute scheduled 8AM C-level client call, and therefore we arranged for our DD (Julie’s dad) to pick us up and cart us all home.
2 observations from this night:
- If “quality time” is my love language, and Julie put that much thought into a “loser treats to dinner” proposition, it’s no wonder she is among my all-time favorite people.
- No matter how professional I may come across to clients or coworkers by virtue of work or title, no matter how adult I may seem or project to my children… it’s humbling to know that I am not so professional or adult that I can’t be found sitting in the backseat of my friend’s dad’s sedan, answering his questions about the night while feeling like a high schooler trying to get away with something.
Drive safe, everyone. And make some solid friends in your adult years. It’ll change your entire experience.
