What I Learned at $500 a Plate

Friday, I turn 31.

I’m not in my 20s.

I’m not even ‘barely 30’.

I’m 31.

That means, if you can do math (which I cannot), I was born in 1981.  Which really was not that long ago, in theory.

I know I’m being super refletive about a pretty insignifcant age, but I needed something to write about for my birthday. 

And besides, being 31 means  more than you might think.

It means I remember handwriting class papers.

It means I remember Saved by the Bell, Colour Me Badd and Amy from before she was on Big Bang Theory.

It means I married a soldier before 9/11.

It means I had a pager once.  (Try explaining the point of a pager to someone now.  It told you to call someone.  Without providing the phone.  Why?)

It means my cellphone once weighed more than my purse.  Not that it could have fit in it.

It means that, while barely, I can remember when all the stuff that’s in fashion now, was the first time.

It means I remember what I was doing when I heard Kurt Cobain, Mother Theresa and Princess Diana died.

It means I remember BEFORE the Internet.  No joke.  Before Google.  Before facebook.  Before you could lose a whole day staring at a computer without making any money.

And yet still, 31 is far from old.

This past week, we got the opportunity to attend a Gala.  Like an honest to goodness Gala, Black-Tie Formal with a million forks and amazing food.

It was a $500 a plate fundraiser on Valentine’s day that some companies bought tables for and then donated them to the Military so that people like DH and I could attend.

So as a complete side note – If any of you have Industrial Recycling Needs, I’m gonna have to recommend General Recycling Industries.  Cause doing something like sponsoring tables so couples who almost never get the chance to be together on Valentine’s Day can spend one together at Gala’s they could never otherwise afford – those are good people.  

This Gala was raising funds for 2 separate Charities.  One was the Opera.  And the other was the hospitals here that care for the elderly community, including the Veterans Hospital.

You would think that those 2 things would not go together.  Until you watch their video.  On it, they show what happens when Opera singers go to these care homes and sing old songs from the 40s to these elderly residents.

And you see men who don’t remember their wives some days, singing along to every word.  You see ladies dancing.  You see many happy tears.

When this video ended at the Gala, I couldn’t help but think

Oh dear Lord, what will they sing to us in the Care Home?  

But once I shuddered at that thought, I began to think of the things, the songs, the movies, the styles that have and will come and go in my lifetime and how one day, I will like to sometimes just sit and remember them, good or bad.  And share them. 
Maybe when I’m 80, skinny jeans will be in fashion. 
Again.

But since it’s how I do things here, I’ll get right to…

Things I learned at a Gala

 – I still care far too much about people’s impressions.  I may have actually uttered the phrase while staring in the mirror in the bathroom after seeing everyone at the Dinner “you know what this dress needs?  Less tattoos!”.  But I didn’t mean it.

– DH is friggin hot in uniform. 

– People want to do nice things for the Military community, like buy our tickets to attend fancy Galas. I super appreciate that.  Like a lot.  Made my month!   But they tend to just glance in our direction and not say a word to us when we are there.  We don’t bite.  I promise. 

– Army guys find sometimes horrifying things hilarious.  Like when someone said to DH ‘wow, 3 times to Afghanistan, hey?  That’s a lot!’ and DH motioned to his friend next to us, the one with the Sacrifice Medal who received a shrapnel wound overseas, and said ‘Ya, and this guy didn’t even stick around to finish his first tour’.  And they both laughed.  Like that was the funniest thing either of them had heard all night.
Boys are weird.

– Beef at $500 a plate tastes significantly better than regular beef.  You have no idea.  Amazing.

– I don’t know  how many calories you have to add to brocoli before you deep fry it and make it taste that good, but it should come that way.

– If you put chocolate on my plate all wrapped pretty, I’m still not going to save it for after my meal.

–  Sometimes I feel old.  I’ve been married 11 years this spring.  My oldest kid is 9.  3 kids, 3 of DH’s tours, a mortgage, a minivan, a mountain of laundry that never goes away and a million things to try and remember to do in a day.  Sometimes, I feel much older than 31.  But dress me up like a princess and take me out for a night on the town where I have to act like a real live grown-up?  I instantly feel like I’m a 6 year old playing dress up.  My dress hanger thingies kept peeking out and I somehow kept getting lipstick on my chin.  I giggled.  I checked out my husband at every opportunity.  I almost skipped back to the hotel room…

I’m not as old as I feel on my worst day.  I’m as young as I feel on my best.  

And who needs eye cream when fancy new phones fit in my purse AND come with photo filters?

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