So I Blocked Her Ass

Here's the thing. I have a past.

Some could say a checkered past.

Relax, I'm not a god damn fugitive. At least not yet.

Let's just say I did some shit when I was a teenager that I am not proud of. I could go into the reasons why and all that, but I don't have the time and you don't have the interest.

Trust me.

Okay, so I had some issues as a teenager and did some rebellious shit. I did stuff like hitchhiking to Florida for a week. Totally normal, right? When I turned eighteen I got in my car, drove away from my bullshit small town, and left everything behind. I started a new life and became a different person. It probably wasn't as dramatic or poetic as I made it seem, but it was to me at the time.

I don't remember people from high school. I'm not nostalgic about high school. I hated myself as a teenager. My teenage years were filled with self-loathing, loneliness, and bull shit. And those people in high school were assholes. I am much happier now and I do not spend time waxing nostalgic about the good ol' days. These are the good ol' days to me. Right Now. This Second is Fucking Awesome.

You dig?

Now we have Facebook. And I love Facebook. Don't think I'm over here dogging out the Facebook. It's not like I'm "The Social Network", y'all. Speaking of that movie...a lil' heavy handed, no?

Facebook.

Or, as I call it, "Omigod I know I was a total asshole to you in high school but guess what you're fat now and I'm still totally high school skinny and I have three perfect kids and stay at home while my husband has an awesome job and OMG how did you get so fat you don't have a baby and why haven't you had any kids yet? OMG you ARE a loser! Just like I knew you would be! And now I can bring up a bunch of embarrassing shit you did when you were in high school so everyone will know what a loser you were and still are! And OMG my life is so fucking awesome just like I knew it would be! Holy shit let's be friends now because you shared four miserable years of me being an asshole to you. And now we have the rest of our lives for me to be an asshole to you! OMG! Isn't this fucking amazing?!? Omigod!"

Or something.

I created my Facebook page and did not put my high school on there. But these people from high school find you. They do. They are like the god damn CIA these people. I accept them, because, well, I wanna see their pics, of course. And it would be rude not to accept them. And I (unlike them) am most definitely not an asshole.

My activity on Facebook is fairly benign. Unlike most I do not spend it updating everyone on my health woes and I don't use it as a forum to congratulate myself on my many many accomplishments. I mainly post generic musings or excitement over upcoming events. My parents are on Facebook, my in-laws are on Facebook, my co-workers are on Facebook, so I don't have any need to air my dirty laundry on The Facebook.

That's why I have this blog.

When Rachel, a girl from high school, friend requested me I accepted her. Again, I'm not an asshole. Rachel and I weren't great friends by any means. She was friends with my best friend Andy and the only memory I have of Rachel is that she dated a boy named Jeff and they would meet at Andy's house and have sex in his mom's guest bedroom. And when they got done Andy would always make them wash the sheets because they were soaking wet because Rachel would squirt on the bed.

Yeah. She was a squirter.

A few weeks ago Rachel, the squirter, randomly posts on my Facebook wall:

"Remember that time we went to the mall and met those weird guys and they took us to Gadzooks and we modeled bathing suits for them? We looked fucking sexy then didn't we? I forget sometimes how hot we were. LOL."

On my public Facebook wall she posts this shit. I have zero recollection of this event happening and even if it did happen it's not the sort of thing I want my mother-in-law reading about.

WTF.

So, I deleted the comment. Of course I deleted the fucking comment.

Friday I posted this status on my Facebook page (get ready, it's some earth shattering shit I post on The Facebook):

"Okay FB peeps, I need some help here. When I was growing up in the summer sometimes we would string up a badminton net in our front yard (classy, I know). BUT we didn't call it badminton. We called it something else. Is there a southern slang word for badminton? What is it?"

I received about ten comments on this post (none of them being the right answer, by the way) and The Squirter chimes in:

"All I know is when we played in those weird dudes' backyard that lived in your neighborhood we called it badminton, but it was really called flirting. LOL"

Again, no recollection. I'm positive this never happened.

WTF is her problem?
So, I did what any reasonable person would do. I deleted her ass from my friends list and blocked her. Ha ha Squirter! Who's laughing now??

Last night I told my husband this story and I asked him if he thought I over-reacted. His reply?

"You always over-react."

So I ask you, internet peeps, was my response reasonable and justified? What would you have done?