On St. Olaf Gays

I went to the wedding reception for my friend's mom. My friend went to St. Olaf for college so I hung out with the St. Olaf Gays when I wasn't awkwardly hanging out with kids who were in anywhere from seventh to tenth grade when I graduated high school and whose siblings I actually graduated with, and said siblings are now all engaged and have grown-up jobs and it is allegedly going to be okay. All night I had my usual existential crisis in my head -- I am Peter Pan and everyone else either stayed in college or actually graduated, Mommy Issues Mommy Issues Mommy Issues -- then quieted them with wine and convinced myself that such insecurities were all in my head.

After my sixth glass of wine, I was sitting at a table with the two St. Olaf gays and their gal pals. I was sort of a fifth wheel in that everyone at the table was conscious I was there and while they accepted my interjections, I still wasn't really part of the conversation. It was okay. I enjoy soaking things in. Then this happened as we were discussing the gay club experience (and they mentioned a gay club in Minneapolis that I have somehow NEVER heard of, WTF):

ST. OLAF GAY #1: I mean, I'm into older guys.
ST. OLAF GAY #2: They're more put together.
ST. OLAF GAY #1: So much drama otherwise.
ST. OLAF GAY #2: It's so immature.
ST. OLAF GAY #1: Or, like, they work retail.
ST. OLAF GAY #2 AND FAG HAGS: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
FAG HAG #1: Yeah, like retail is only acceptable when you're between 16 and 20. Otherwise ...
FAG HAG #2: Yeah!
ST. OLAF GAY #1: Ridiculous!
ST. OLAF GAY #2: Um, Nordstrom Rack is the exception.
JAKEY: I have to pee.

I tried to cavort with the 20 year olds but I was too sad and could no longer hide it. I met one of their mothers and tried to joke about being on my sixth wine glass. She did not laugh. Halfway through my two-mile walk home in the Minnesota tundra, I realized that her son that introduced us has been in rehab and I am a real winner.

On Getting Tagged in Nasty Porn PIctures on Facebook

This is my sincere and humble apology to anybody who saw really gross pictures that I was tagged in. By gross, I mean GROSS. It happened not once not twice not three but FOUR times but I can now say with confidence that it won't happen again. I have since cut from my friends list people whose real identities I don't know, so now I am sure that I'm not friends with anybody who would think it would be really funny to tag me in pictures of pornography. And objectivity is everything, but this was porn that nobody needs to see. Really. If I was going to tag myself in such pictures I would have at least chosen something more aesthetically pleasing.



I take responsibility in accepting friend requests from people that I knew nothing about other than that we had one or two mutual friends. Maybe it was vanity, like "Ooooh! Friend number 1,223! You win a prize!" But I really don't think like that, at least on a conscious level. Last night I was tagged for a third time, received several text messages and wall posts in my e-mail, and promptly removed things as quickly as I could. I scoured my friends list and cut everybody that I didn'tk now. Turns out i missed one, because it happened again today while I was at work. I called a friend who bravely logged into my Facebook, and the pictures had since been removed, so thank you to that friend as well as the poor souls who reported the pictures. When I got home I went through my friends list AGAIN, repeating every single name to myself so if anything was unfamiliar they were removed. I also learned that I think I am friends with about 80 Ashleys, Megans, Chelseas and Johns.



Speaking of Facebook friends, last night I also added a real adult film star for shits and giggles and wrote to him about the irony that on the day I was tagged in porn pics I was friends with an actual porn star, and he wrote back "That's funny ... kinda." Then, because I am 13, I obsessed over it for five minutes. Wait, kinda?? Does that mean I'm annoying?? Does that mean it's not really funny?? Whatever, Austin Wilde! But I digress.



Then I started thinking about the mentality of someone who goes through with such a prank. FOUR times?? Really?? Get a life, my child. I was not the only person in a certain circle of friends who was 'hit' by this, and one of them was an 80-year-old woman, which I think is really awful and disgusting. 80-year-old women should worry about things like bingo and missing Larry King Live, not having pictures of them Facebook-tagged in gross gay porn.



I have since made a new photo album of rainbows and butterflies. I hope you enjoy it.



Then I went into Facebook Notes because no one really does these anymore. The very first note was someone coming forward about being HIV positive, which is one of those moments where you put life in perspective and realize that you're kind of a self-obsessed whack job. Minutes ago I was telling myself that I have post-traumatic stress disorder from this debacle, as every time my phone rings and my e-mail button goes off, I'm worried I've been pranked yet again and it's frantic friends witnessing disgusting pictures, and then I read this note (very well-written, by the way) and it's one of those light bulb moments. A disgusting pornographic picture can be taken care of with an 'untag' button, and a situation like what this young person is dealing with has many words that can describe it, but untaggable certainly isn't one of them.



I also realized that religious people LOVE Facebook notes.



In conclusion, I am, again, very sorry to all who witnessed such things. Thank you for not deleting me as a friend, and thank you for not thinking that I was doing such a thing on purpose. An extra thank you if you can find my Claritin-D at this juncture, because I could really use some.