This one time at band camp…

I’m one of those people who remember an embarrassing about of useless things from the past. Things that are better left forgotten. If we walked into my old elementary school today I could walk you to each classroom I was ever in, and show you the placement of a good many of my desks.. third grade, 2nd row from the door, 3rd seat.

I really tend to remember the things that other people would like to forget….

  • I can tell you which girl in my class was the first to get her period. And where she was standing in the cafeteria when everyone noticed.
  • I remember the names of all eight girls who got busted for being drunk during gym class in junior high.
  • I could take you to New Orleans and show you all four spots where my college roommate puked during Mardi Gras in 1988. Yeah I’m fun like that.

I also tend to remember people who I never really knew. You know, friends of friends, random people that were at a particular event but not "with" me specifically. The kind ofpeople you laugh and drink with but know you’ll never see again. Yeah I remember them. I’ve learned over the years to stop saying "Hello" when I run into them later because remembering the guy you were at a 4th of July boat party with 2 summers ago in the grocery store.. kind of screams STALKER.

For all these reasons, sites like Facebook freak me out a little. Of course I remember everyone on the damn high school list. Doesn’t mean they remember me, geeked out introvert that I am was. Or what about all the friends of friends that I might "know" – heck yeah I’ve met them but I don’t "know" them.

And let’s not even get into the whole I’ve-read-you-blog-for-years-but-you-don’t-know-me-from-Adam level of friendship.

Facebook makes me jumpy and nervous. I just don’t want to be that person who over reaches and embarrasses themselves attempting to connect with people from the past and have them be all – "who are you again?"

But then last week something happened that made me laugh and laugh and laugh at myself.

This boy who sat next to me in my 11th grade civics class, the one who was cute and funny that I never could get the nerve to look directly at because I might just turn into a great big poof of dust.. yeah that one. HE sent ME a friend request. Hell I didn’t even think he knew who I was then much less now.

Great Facebook …. Could have used you 25 years ago ….and Big Thanks ’cause now you’ve got me REALLY over-thinking the  "Do You Know" suggestions … ‘

… like do you think the girl who went to dance with me in 2nd grade and hid my ballet shoes the last day before recital so I couldn’t be in the show will know who I am if I "Friend" her? …Wonder if she ever found out I totally got her back with a bad sorority rec. 11 years later ……

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2 thoughts on “This one time at band camp…

  1. I found this post through an old link and had to laugh, because I’m one of those too. One of my friends actually has a term for those people; she’s calls them Jesus of CopyMat. Because there’s a guy in the movie Jerry Maguire that has like, one line, but they still listed him in the credits as Jesus of CopyMat. So I name one of these periphery people in my life that I connect with (like the guy I met at camp for two weeks 18 years ago) she’ll say, “Is this another Jesus of CopyMat?” The walk-on one line players in the theatre of our lives.

    Great post! I’ll be back!

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