Tonight Denis and I are installing a babysitter in order to attend a cocktail party hosted by his RE company. If you knew the me from ten years ago I would have been TOTALLY into it – food, drink, music, dancing. What’s not to love?? I would have been totally enthused. Ten years ago I LOVED going out and had no problems in social situations. I was the one that would be in a club and have NO problem approaching some guy dancing and pretty much tell him outright that he was beautiful and a great dancer. I did ALL the time (and made some pretty good friends in the process). I’ll felt comfortable in my skin and didn’t worry about things like rejection or first impressions.
Now? Well, the current me is less enthused.
And I’ll admit it, a significant reason I’m loathe to go to the party tonight is that I’m overweight. As much as it kills me to say it, first impressions are important and I hate that even though I’m a nice person, I’ll be introduced to people tonight and at least half the people will think, “Denis has a fat wife.”
That’s not fun. But I’ll suck it up (no pun intended) for the night and put on a bright smile, have a few drinks (If they have Malibu rum I’m gonna make Denis be the designated driver tonight) and figure that at the end of the night at least a few of those folks will say goodbye to me thinking, “She may be not be thin – but she’s really fun!”
You can tell my self-esteem is in the toilet today, huh?
Update at 10:25 p.m.: Well what a bust tonight was! I got home and found I didn’t have any pantyhose in the house. And I don’t wear skirts without pantyhose. I then tried on a couple of my fancier outfits and found they just didn’t fit right. So I just put on pants, a sweater, a jacket and some sparkly jewelry, figuring I’d be okay since Denis’ co-worker ladies didn’t seem to think it would be that formal.
We get to the hotel and as we come up the escalator that leads to the ballroom area, EVERY SINGLE WOMAN I SEE IS IN A FANCY COCKTAIL DRESS. And we’re talking fancy little black dresses with sequins and beading and 6 inch heels and hair done at the salon this afternoon. I was pissed. So pissed that I refused to even walk in the ballroom. Fortunately, Denis took pity on me and we quickly got out of there and headed back to our neighborhood for some good BBQ and three stiff beverages for me (one of which was a shot of Jager, Bailey’s and Creme de Almond – yum!).
And now? I’m going to bed. I have to be up early tomorrow to go to the gym.
You poor thing… I don’t blame you for refusing to go in. I would have done the same thing ~ I guess you’re in the South now!! Even I wouldn’t have thought to wear a ‘sparkley’ dress, unless someone told me it was the standard. You married a prince.
Yikes. Bummer.
That really stinks, Jayne. It is a good think Denis is who he is and walked out with you. You were made for each other!
Being overweight makes me want to not go anywhere. It is rough. I gave up cigarettes a year ago and don’t have to pick one up again ever. However, you can’t live without food. Heavy sigh. It’s really good that you are going to the gym. I need that discipline.
I pray your week is blessed.
Jane wanted me to drop her off at home and then drive back and hang out by myself. What was she kidding? I didn’t want to be there any more than she did.
Yay – Go Denis!!!
(scoring those brownie points still!!!)
I think that’s the NY’er in you … *grin*
I would’ve assumed black pants, too. Holy moly…maybe that is a southern thing…to be so dressed up? š
Princess Jami – that’s what I’ve subsequently been told. Denis later said the actual quote from his boss was something to the effect of “You can never been too dressed up/too revealing/too fancy,” but Denis misinterpreted that to mean I could dress down and implied that the women in his office said pants were okay. Oh well – lesson learned. Next time I see the words “cocktail dress” anywhere on an invite, I’m going shopping.