On the brink

I find myself feeling pensive. I went out last night for my birthday. Actually, had a great time. A bunch of our friends met up at a local dive bar. It has karaoke and intermittent dance breaks. The perfect mix of sleeze and fun. The variety of people there range from grungy bar fly, avid karaoke bar fly,  and lonely bar fly to college kids and of course moms that get out every couple of years. Its a comphy setting to let loose a bit. The last time I attempted to go out for my birthday was two years before. I only lasted about an hour before one too many shots put me sleeping in the car. I was determined to "hang like a big dog" last night. While I did throw up in the parking lot, I did not pass out. Go me.
I feel slightly down today, on edge. Drinking was never really a fav of mine. I was uber up and happy last night but I find drinking causes a dip on my emotional rollercoaster. I looked pretty cute last night. I had gotten a special dress, cute shoes, put on make-up and did my hair. This might seem a bit overboard for a seedy bar, It is. The point is that I get so few opportunities to roll out like that, I have to take advantage. Its important to feel like more than just a mom. I'm fun. I'm interesting. Adults like me.
All in all, it was a good time. So, why do I feel so sad? Is it because, I really do love my friends that made an effort to show up. I am really going to miss them. I can take comfort in the fact many of these friends I really do only see once or twice a year. This may be a tradition I can still maintain from another state. I'll visit...right? They'll visit? 
As I hung my dress up this morning, I reflected how little use I have for cute outfits anymore. I still try to maintain some sort of style. Even get my hair done twice a year. However, I also wear things because they are comfortable...comfortable meaning I hate the pattern, but perhaps I can reach my nipple easier for breastfeeding or it hides my belly. It occurred to me that the little use I have for fashion now, will be almost non-existent in Oregon. I will miss that. As few and as far between those dress-up occasions are, they are fun. I feel torn between my suburban consciousness and my longing to be different. I like to look cute but Id like to not care. I want to be practical but consumerism is consuming. I want to be dirty, earthy, and free. I want a new Betsy Johnson purse. It's possible I'm getting caught up in a choice that may not exist. There may be places in my new country life that will call for the occasional stylish pump or manicure. I hope so. Shhhh..don't tell anyone!
 My birthday celebration was the last on the list of numerous distractions from the fact we actually are moving soon. It's time to pack. It's time to get ready to go. Good-byes are coming. It's a strange feeling to be so excited and so sad at the same time. It's a whole lot of emotion.