Upon waking up this morning, I grabbed myself a Diet Pepsi and a Reese’s peanut butter cup from my kid’s Halloween bucket and then sat down at the computer to check my facebook. Yes, it was a very healthy breakfast and I’m an awesome mom. Upon scrolling through facebook, I encountered the following status update:
Oh my god underage kids, we get it. You like to drink and act stupid on the weekends, like we ALL did in high school. Now please stop posting all over the internet every day for fuck’s sake.
My first thought was a solid “Hallelujah, sister!” Before I continue, however, I must admit that we didn’t all drink and act stupid in high school. I didn’t, and this is now a great point of pride and gratitude for me. I’m so thankful that when my students ask, as my own children eventually will, that I can be honest when I say I didn’t drink or do drugs in high school. The truth is that I had my first drink at a graduation party. I had three wine coolers that night, and thought I was wasted. I’m sure I looked like a damn fool at the time, but I fucking love that story now.
So, I didn’t drink or do drugs in high school – truth. College, however, is an entirely different tale. That is precisely why after my praise of the above post, I turned to the thought, “Thank God facebook didn’t exist when I was younger.” There would have been pictures of my drunken ass all over the internet. I mean this literally too – because I had a hot ass and I had no qualms about exposing it. I further had no qualms about exposing my breasts, proudly displaying my “half-dollar nipples.” For some reason, I was incredibly proud of my nipples. I was once told, “Oh yeah, wow. That’s all nipple too – not just areola. Those are indeed a thing of beauty.” I’ve only encountered one woman ever who had nipples more magnificent than mine. I know this because we had a bout about this and thus measured them by spreading silly putty over our nipples and comparing the outcome. You can assume alcohol was involved during this epic battle of ours. I’m going to also go ahead and assume that my mother-in-law is currently shaking her head in dismay as she reads this post. Sorry, I’m a good girl now and I love your son and grandkids so very much, cross my heart.
I’m glad facebook didn’t exist the night I had so much whopatulli that I fell down the stairs and then pissed my pants. I’m glad facebook didn’t exist during the Oktoberfest season when I was writing profanities on strangers with a Sharpie and then stole some stranger’s corndog and ran away in hysterical laughter. I’m glad facebook didn’t exist the night my best friend and I got kicked out of the bar because she was yelling at me and I was bawling hysterically atop a table.
However, I’m also immensely glad for all of these fun memories, and grateful too that I have grown and matured. I’m thankful I can laugh at those past hysterics now and be proud of the woman I am today. Now my posts are pictures of me baking cookies with my daughter and there’s no shame in that. So, halleluiah indeed to the above update, as some things are meant to only be shared as memories on your narcissistic blog post as opposed to being pictorially displayed on facebook. And, again, seriously, when will a universal sarcasm font be declared?