Continued.....You can never go home......

November 28th, WOW. Why does it NOT surprise me that it has been almost one month since I've had 30 seconds to myself to write an entry on my blog. Honestly, I wish I were surprised. However, I know there are many other working moms, single moms, stay at home moms, and dads who are feeling exactly the same way. My self pity regarding my lack of free time ends here and now on to the more than a month old entry on how it is true, you can never go home again.
As I approach 40 here in perfectville, one and a half years after giving up my 'citygirl' status for that of the burbs, it only makes sense that I would jump at a chance to head back intown to celebrate a friend's birthday, right???? But ofcourse, who doesn't look for an opportunity to hang out with friends in a familiar place, sipping cocktails and comparing stories.
My friend's birthday fell on a Saturday night I'd already committed to attend a coworker's going away party. (YIKES what to do, 2 engagements in one night? Mrs, popularity all of the sudden) No need to worry, all would work out. Sitter booked, outfit selected and a work party requiring at a maximum 2 hours of face time. Work party begins at 7 pm and the birthday party begins at 9pm. All is set for the perfect return to the city at a familiar pub with familiar bartenders and imported beer! Not to mention a kidless night with my husbnand,
I should have noticed the night would not go as planned when my husband's flight did not land until 12 pm on Friday night. And as those from the ATL know, when a flight lands at midnight at Hartsfiled Jackson, the chance of you getting home to the burbs prior to 1 am are slimmer than the Olsen twins.
Ok, no night with my husband, but I still had the babysitter to help him out (check), outfit (check), time with friends(check) at a familiar place with good beer (and check).
The second clue to a less than perfect night should have hit me when the oh so perfect outfit went MIA the day of the party. No worries, my husband has my son at a birthday party, and I head to the mall with my little one to look for something new. (ok yes, I had other smashing things to wear, but what self respecting woman doesn't take the opportunity to buy herself something new when she has an excuse)???
With 4 hrs and counting, I get to the mall with no problems, and find the perfect outfit. My nutty 18 month old was even cooperating. Could it be that all was well with the world???? Almost. I just needed a new pair of brown leather boots as a finishing touch. So with 3 hours to kill and a cooperating 18 month old, I head to Macy's (Nine West has apparently moved locations since the last time I shopped there in 2002).
WOW, what's up with this crowd? Macy's is packed. Apparently the best shoe sale in the US is going on precisely at the moment when I need a quick in and out shoe buying experience.
Determined to keep on schedule, I grab the first sales person with empty hands and shout over the crowd 'I wear an 8, I need a pair of brown boots, bring me out your favorites'. You'd think he'd be thrilled, his favorite brown boots for a lady who was purchasing, not wasting his time and with an 18 month old, again who is cooperating fully. Clearly he was not impressed by my willingness to let him be the boss and decide my boot choice nor was he impressed with my 18 month old's fabulous behavior because I received plenty of attitude while being told to pick out my own boots and he would get the size.
Ok, who cares about the attitude I think, clearly (judging from the crowd) there is a major sale going on and I am going to save some cash moeny that I can spend on another sitter in a week!
The longest 10 minutes of my life pass and Mr. Attitude is back with 3 of the first 5 boots I stumbled across. One pair not only fit, but looked pretty good. Pleased with myself for being so efficient and frugal, I head to the register. The third clue to how my trip intown may not go as planned should have been crystal clear when I find out I am apparently the only person in the entire store who is paying full price for her shoes!!!!!
Ok, home by 6! Plenty of time to make it to the work party at 7 pm for someone who is not looking to impress. I am out the door, at 645 for my night OTP and ITP. The sitter is out with the kids and my husband is asleep, deservedly so.
Did I mention the party is in Cumming, GA????? Now I live in the burbs, but this is truly OTP! I almost stopped for a snack on the way there!
Arriving fashinably late at 7:20, with a max of 2 hours facetime, things are headed in the right direction! By 9 pm, I am headed ITP from OTP East Atlanta bound (or is that East Down and Bound???).
One of my ITP friends text me as I am leaving the work party, 'where are you'? I text back 'headed there, be there in about 45 mins'. 'Great' or GR8T she texts me, because afterall who needs to speak on that thing they call the phone once texting was invented????
Worrying I would be late, I go as fast as my company car allows and get to the bar at 10pm, (oh I forgot to mention clue #4, receive text.... 'bar no longer open due to loss of liquor license, meeting next door' so much for the familiar bartenders who ensure prompt service in getting the imported beer in my belly!!!!).
I arrive at the next door bar rushing and apologizing for being late. I find my ITP friend at the bar carrying on a conversation with a perfect stranger and not worried in the slightest about my late arrival. I'd forgotten the number one rule of ITP time.... no one goes out before 10 pm--oh my memory, it's been at least 2 years since I'd been out with my intown friends (think daughter 18 months, pregnant 9 months, you get the picture), I had conveniently forgotten that being 45 mins late in ITP time is like being 2 hours early! the birthday girl remembers this rule and arrives at 12 am to her 9 pm party, only an hour late!!!! And did I mention she was late arriving from her dinner at a restaurant in perfectville???? Are you f'in KIDDING ME????? I raced from Cumming to East Atlanta at the speed of light, worried about being 45 mins late for her party and in the meantime she is finishing dinner less than a mile from my house!!!!!!!
Whatever, at least I am out of the house being (pretending to be) cool with my ITP friends. I just need a cold beer to relax. So after 15 mins of standing on my head to get the bartenders attention, (apparently there is some unwritten rule that very slight pale girls and boys with uncombed hair who pay their tabs in nickles are all to be served prior to nicely dressed middle aged women from the burbs).
So finally, the beer arrives if only slightly ahead of the birthday girl. And while it's never the same going back home once you've moved on, we all managed to have a pretty good time and although the bartenders serving the beer were not as familiar it still went down just as smooth!