Mortified
Thank you, Storycatchers for pouring one out for all the kids who were never picked first for kickball.
My Mortified piece begins in a special level of hell brought to you by my lazy eye of ‘89.
Y’all know DoveRealBeauty? That shit didn’t exist yet.
The kid from Jerry Maguire? Had to wait 10 years for that fucker to be invented.
I had to mushroom cut my way through life the hard way.
There is a level of bullet-proof that comes from being so
Gap-toothed
Bottle-capped
And bowl-cut.
It’s like when a baby antelope is born with shit for legs and already needs to ghost 6 hyenas. AND IT DOES. YOU’VE SEEN THE PLANET EARTH EPISODE.
There is an upside to being the easy target.
No one expects you to be awesome.
What I’m offering you all tonight are some of the early FUCKS that got me to the later YEAHS. In no particular order:
Fuck 1.
Asked by popular girl if I ever queafed. Assumed she was asking because it’s cool to queaf. Gave her an enthusiastic ALL THE TIME with a thumbs up. Entire student body called me crotch rocket.
Fuck 2.
Brought back to daycare at age 12 when my usual summer sitter was unavailable. Soon realized I was the eldest by 6 years. The difference between a 6-year-old and a 12-year-old is a menstrual cycle. When the kids played Eye Spy they always spied something big. AS IN THE ADOLESCENT PERFORMING COMPLEX ALGEBRA IN THE CORNER OF THE PLAYROOM.
Fuck 3.
Wrote YOU ARE HOT over and over in my own year book with my left hand to prove to the entire student body how desirable I was. I think only my German teacher saw it.
Fuck 4.
Pretended to have period to make mad-money testing pads for Kimberly-Clark. Anyone here work at Kimberly-Clark? YOUR DATA IS FALSE. I MISLED ALL OF YOU. But Karma struck when mother busted me coloring a panty-liner with my reddest Crayola.
Fuck 5.
Came home from a week at camp to find SURPRISE! mother had rearranged my room, which included moving the dresser that concealed SURPRISE! my vibrator from Spencer’s Gifts. Imagine your beaming mother touring you around your room while you mentally scream DEAR GOD WHERE IS IT? DID SHE THINK IT WAS A TOOTHBRUSH HOLDER? IS DAD GOING TO HAPPEN UPON IT WHILE REACHING FOR HIS NORELCO?
Ready for the yeahs?
Convinced my petrified parents to allow me to board a plane post 9-11 at the age of 16 so I could spend the summer in Germany. That summer is when I started becoming me.
I also got laid.
Switched majors from Business (safe! employable! lucrative!) to English after weeping while reading Life of Pi. Applied at branding agency with zero advertising experience. Now a fledgling Creative Director.
Happened across a hilarious DIY flower website and sent the owner a HEY YOU FUNNY email. I now manage her social media, have traveled to Oregon with her, stood up in her wedding and am embarking on our first couple’s trip to Chile this fall.
Could not hold up intellectual dinner conversation whilst sitting across the table from MARGARET ATWOOD so showed her a fun little move Tom Pease taught me as a kid. Do you guys remember Tom Pease? He’s the belly button guy. Anyway, I taught a Dystopian Darling how to frog-hands and you know what? SHE LOVED IT.
My favorite yeah: Emailed lifelong British pen pal to say HEY ARE YOU EVER GOING TO COME AND MEET ME and then married the shit out of him.
All the bullshit armors us to take chances on all the good shit. So my advice to you all tonight:
Take the hits
like it’s motherfucking dodgeball day.