So, friends, remember when I bared my soul and confessed the possible beginnings of my bad girl ways? Well, I suppose a little piece of that girl is still with me, some 20-plus years later. The evidence? Oh, you know, just my lost weekend a few years ago. Little did I know that it would be the first of many lost-weekends-what-am-I-doing? experiences in my future.
A couple of years ago, my mom went to visit my grandfather, and apparently, all of my willpower went with her. I never went away to college. Never lived in a dorm or an off-campus apartment. Really, I’ve never lived on my own, so my mother’s vacation was my first taste of it — no pun intended. Don’t worry, that will make sense soon enough.
Needless to say, this was a new experience for me. I half felt like a college freshman. You can always spot a college freshman, can’t you? They’re hard to miss, sort of like a deer-in-the-headlights, only they’re willingly running full-force into those high beams. Some rebel with a certain intoxicating beverage. Others may have inked and immortalized their rebellion in the form of a tattoo. Me? I ate my way to the sink-hole of rebellion. I drank my way, too, not with a drink that left me with a hangover, but with one that left me with heart palpitations and a couple sleepless nights. You see, it wasn’t long until I fell under the spell of the elusive P. Not, not partying. Pop. Barq’s Root Beer, to be exact. My mother usually bought us diet, but accidentally bought us a 12-pack of the good stuff (regular!) before she left. Ahh, there it was — my rebellion staring back at me in that beautiful silvery and shiny can. I was determined to drink as many cans as I could in those five days. And I did. I drank so many, just for the sheer purpose of feeling like a rebel, that I nearly drank my way into a caffeine-overload stupor. Let me tell you. It wasn’t pretty.
And I won’t even go into my budding Snickers-bar-a-day diet.
My mom called us a couple times each day. At first, I was able to easily hide my secret from her. I even felt a certain rush in having a bad little secret of my own. But by the time my mother came home, I’d realized what all college students inevitably realize: A life filled with endless partying leaves you feeling empty after a while. A life like that, at some point, just gets old. I, for one, just couldn’t go on living like I had been any longer.
I did learn something, though. Just like that purple crayon so many years go, I guess you can’t escape certain rites of passage whether you go through them at 18 or 28. You can’t outrun them. They’re destined to catch up with you. Yes, that’s what it is. Destiny. Who am I to challenge destiny itself? Excuse me while I go and ask that Snickers bar. I’m sure he has the answer.
[Photos via We Heart It]