Thanks for the memories even though they weren't so great
I'm not a happy camper.
The weekend started out well enough. I woke up early, went to yoga, ran, and then, because it was 82 degrees out, went to the beach. In November. Hi, Life? Love you.
Shortly after I got home from the beach, however, I got a frantic message from my high school friend Rebecca: "Lori, you you have to see the photos posted on Facebook!" My stomach sank.
I've been waiting for this day. The day the hideous grade school photos would surface. I know we've all had awkward years. But I don't need mine posted on Facebook as a reminder.
Maybe I'm vain, or shallow, or just incredibly insecure, but I prefer not to post unflattering photos of myself online. I can laugh at them with friends and family, and even my fellow blog readers. But I have Facebook friends that are professional connections, former paramours, and frankly, people I would just prefer to look pretty for. I don't care if the bad photos were taken when I was 10. They still strike a nerve that's surprisingly sensitive.
Of course, I could untag myself. (And I did, from the worst of the three). But then I'd appear to be taking things much too seriously, and probably calling more attention to the issue than if I just left it alone. Or, than if I just sucked it up and made my own funny comment under the caption. Laughed at myself before they could laugh at me. But it's really hard to laugh at what I've spent the last 20 years trying to forget.
One nice thing to come out of this was a friend request from my fifth grade teacher - the one who taught us to sing in sign language. We spent time catching up, and she gave me an email address for my fourth grade teacher. I've mentioned him before - the one who directed the play, the one who came up in my psychic reading... Anyway, I emailed him tonight. Let's hope the address is current.
Other than that drama, my weekend was pretty tame. I visited Nicole in the hospital today, and she looked splendid. During my two and a half hour stay, there were never less than four different visitors in the room - a steady stream of friends and family kept coming and going; the phone did not stop ringing; and the room had long run out of vases for the many bouquets that came through. Keep sending her good thoughts, though. It may have seemed like a party, but her recovery is just getting started.
Last night, I was supposed to go to this magazine issue launch party. My friend is the advertising director, so I've attended a few of them before. They're nothing crazy, but offer up free food and bevvies, and some C-list celebs - good enough for me. Unfortunately, this particular party was being held in a hotel penthouse, and there was only one elevator to take guests up. And that elevator seemed to hold only four people. We stood in line for 45 minutes, only to move a few feet. Finally, at 9 PM, we started asking about the hold-up. Apparently, Paris Hilton was upstairs with the cast of My New BFF, and they were either shooting or just not granting access to anyone else.
With that news, Tracy and I turned to each other and agreed to head out. I don't know when it happened that having Paris Hilton at a party turned into a reason to leave rather than a reason to stay, but there you have it. Say what you will about my Facebook photos, I guess I'm not really that shallow.
Labels: Facebook, Only in LA
posted by Lori @ 6:48 PM
6 Comments:
I untag myself when those photos show up. I mean I'm ok w looking goofy and silly and all that, but some pics professional contacts just don't need to see. Or you know, cute boys from college I'm now back in contact with. HA HA HA HA
Paris is always a reason to leave a party. Always.
So glad you saw Nic - wish I could visit myself. And I totally feel you on Facebook photos. The internet is such a double edged sword.
You and Nicole are outrageously lucky. You, because you grew out of that awkward stage. My awkward stage started at about age five and well, I'm 32 now and still going strong. Nicole, because she has so many friends and people who care about her.
I feel your pain. I had an old 'friend' from junior high post, what I consider to be, some of the most unflattering photos of me that have ever existed. Not only that, but they were solo pictures of me! It's not like it was a group of eight of and we could laugh about how awful we all looked. It was just me - look at what a weirdo freak TinyE used to be.
And yeah, I outgrew it but you don't forget what it's like to walk around in that skin.
Yes, Tiny E, what I think pissed me off most was that this girl wasn't even in our graduating class. She apparently was in our class for three months in fifth grade, and then transferred after Thanksgiving. So, it's not like she was part of our circle, or ANY circle, in which she'd be posting these memories for laughs, one of the gang, ha ha weren't we all so funny, etc. I don't remember her AT ALL. And I rememeber everyone!
So, I know it wasn't malicious, but it's like, you were in our grade for three months 25 years ago, and NOW come back and post these random, embarrassing pictures?! Who ARE you? And what made you think that perfect strangers would find these amusing?
Anyway, it's been five days and clearly I am still sensitive about this. I did make a funny comment on one of the photos, but subsequently untagged myself from all but the class group photo, in which I am less horrific looking and it is too small to really see anyway. I still wonder if I am being too sensitive about it, but I left them up on my page for three days and cringed every single time I looked at them.
I untagged myself just yesterday. didn't think twice about it. I dont even REMEMBER the girl who posted it.
anyway, good seeing you at the hospital. hopefully will see you again soon for a happier occasion.
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