When Murder Should be Legal.

There are moments in life when you should be shot immediately, without question.  One of those moments is when you take the liberty of posting a horrifying photo of a person you barely know and haven’t seen in at least 20 years on a public facebook.  No, not just posting the photo, but tagging said near-stranger is an unforgivable offense.

Brace yourselves for a glimpse of 1989 thechassity, and keep in mind that flatirons hadn’t been invented – or at least I was not aware of their existence in Hicksville, IN.  Also note that I did not know about eyebrow waxing/plucking/shaping (in any form).  I thought that you had to make due with what you got.  Also keep in mind that I did not have my own money to buy my own clothes.  Also keep in mind that Hicksville, IN wasn’t exactly the home of any cutting edge salons.  We did, however, have Maybelline Great Lash mascara, so I have no excuse for my invisible eyes.

I made it big so you can experience the full horror that I felt when I logged on to facebook and saw a TEN HOUR OLD photo tag.  MY PEOPLE HAD TEN HOURS TO SEE THIS BEFORE I COULD DELETE THE TAG!!!!!!!!!!!!  I would have blurred out the other faces before posting this on my blog, but apparently these fools don’t care about people seeing them in their 1989 “glory.”

What is happening in this photo?  The girl in the white is one of my cousins; the other girl is a friend of my cousin’s family – who I haven’t seen since I was, at most, 14.

I often joke that I have early onset alzheimer’s, but I’m not joking really because there are huge holes in my existence and frequently when someone gets nostalgic and talks about something that happened in the past, I will have no recollection of participating in said experience.  I don’t remember MUCH more than I do remember.  And I can’t even blame it on any heavy experimental drug use in my youth because I came up with First Lady Nancy Reagan telling me to “Just Say No,” and you know what?  I did.  I have a real fear that in the next (too) few years, I am going to be on a missing poster because I’m going to go out for eggs and cheese and forget who I am and why the hell I left my home – which I can’t remember the location of any-damn-way.

Case in point:  my best friend of over 15 years said to me the other day “remember when we went to that Boyz II Men concert and that drunk guy puked on your shoes?”  and I didn’t.  Not at all.  I mean, if someone said “Have you ever been to a Boyz II Men concert?” I would have said no.  It’s one thing to not remember the time you ate meatloaf at home on a Tuesday night; it’s another to not remember actual events that you attended and the people who have vomited on you.  I’m starting to believe that I have had a lot more fun in my life than I even know about and it SUCKS that I don’t know about it!