A Letter to my 16 Year Old Self

As I sit back and reflect not only on the past 5 valentine-less years, but also the last 13 of my life, like any normal person, I wish I could travel back in time and forewarn myself of things yet to come.   Not that I have a single regret, It would of been nice just to be given insight in to the future.  With that being said:

A Letter to my 16 year old self

Dear Shelby,

                Hello from the future!  I hope this letter finds you well.  Believe it or not, I am the 29 year old version of yourself (yes as of right now, surprisingly you do make it this far.)  I want to give you a heads up on things that have occurred in the past 13 years (or in your case will happen in the next 13 years), with the hopes that you appreciate 1. who you are now, and 2. the person that you will become .  I don't want you to change any of these events, more importantly, I want you to embrace them and be more educated so that it doesn't take you 13 years to not be embarrassed and get to the point that I am now, only sooner. 

                First and foremost, Happy 16th Birthday.  Being that I have lost many memories due to alcohol consumption (we will get in to this later), I'm sure for your birthday you were sitting around with your mixture of HS friends and Monaca friends, having cake in your parents basement.  Enjoy these times.  Where some of these people, you will grow apart from, others will remain near and dear to you even until this day.  I want to let you know, that at this age you will meet your first love.  Actually you have known your first love for quite some time.  If I know you, you are probably sitting on the top bunk of the bunk beds that your family purchased for you because you are an only child spoiled brat who decided waterbeds are lame.  Get down from the bunk bed and proceed to your desk.  Do you see the slender green rounded object encased in plastic that has been collecting dust for the past year?  That gag gift that Lam bought you that you had no clue what it was for?  That is your first love.  In roughly 3 months from now, all the kids at school will be talking about "getting off" and you will have no clue what the hell they are talking about, because you have barley gone to 3rd base, let alone had sex.  You will pretend you know what they are talking about, and rather than giving it up you take the safe way out, and decide to experiment with "the green lantern."  Congrats, you have now not only started an addictive hobby, you have also set yourself up disappointment in the sex department.

               

                When you are 16, you start dating a guy from another town.  One night you will be at a block party in his apartment complex, and will discover peach schnapps.  You will be drunk, however you cannot drive at this point because you don't have your license and have been using your Mom and Aunt to tote you and your friends everywhere.  When your mom picks you up from the party, and asks you why you smell like liquor cabinet, rather than lying and telling her it was non alcoholic beer, come clean and tell her the truth.  She will threaten that she has an at home "alcohol tester",  and thinking you have the upper hand by calling her out based on empty threats before,   do not be surprised that when you get home, she pulls them out of the bathroom cabinet.   Discovering that not only are your drunk, but you are 2 times over the legal limit, will send her in to a frenzy and cause you to be grounded.

                You are preparing to get your driver's license.  Let me give you a word of advice... Rather than taking your dad's Ford Escort Station wagon to it, take your grandfathers Plymouth Horizon (a car that is half the size of your dad's).  By doing this, you will save yourself the embarrassment of failing your test 2 times.  The first time you fail, it is because you park with your emergency brake on.  This is followed by yelling at the Penn Dot gentleman (who is old enough to be Hugh Hefner's Father) for asking you to put it on in the first place, and not reminding you to take it off.  The second time you fail, again with the old man that has seen every major world war, he will get his revenge  and yell at you for backing in to a barrier while parallel parking.  He will say things like "What if that was a child" and "Apparently driving school has not done anything for you," to the point where you cry uncontrollably and apologize for hitting an imaginary kid.  Finally, your mom suggest the brilliant idea to take your 3rd test in your Grandfather's car.  You get a younger gentleman who is cool as hell, but keep your mouth shut.  After you successfully park w/ out your e-brake and parallel park, do not brag about knowing the route through Rochester that the guy is going to take you on, because all your friends told you about it.  He will then throw you a curve ball, and take you not only through Rochester, but in to side streets of Beaver, and ask you to stop at a convenience store so that he can grab a coffee.  You pass this test with flying colors, and eventually get your first car - A Ford Escort.

                At the age of 17, you discover that Jack Daniels is not your friend.  At this point, your mother has lightened up a bit on drinking and doesn't freak out as bad.  On a hot summer evening, you will attend a party , at a guy named Adam's house.  You have been hanging out with his crew for some time now, and have a lot of fun.  Your friend Neil will mix you a drink, which later on you realize is an entire glass of Jack Daniels with a splash of coke.  You will proceed to get half way through the drink, before you get sloppy drunk, pass out underneath patio furniture and inadvertently confuse bong water for actual water.  Being a total embarrassment, your friends will proceed to drive you home and basically throw you in your parents yard.  At that point, your mom dressed in her infamous bathrobe will wake your father up out of a sound sleep to help carry you in to the house.  You will wake up the next morning with your first hang over.  You will be bedridden and unable to keep sort of food down because you are puking lime green stomach bile. 

                At the age of 18, you will get your first real boyfriend.  Not only is he a boyfriend, but he is also an accomplishment because you had your eyes set on him for quite some time.  You fall quickly for him and being a virgin, convince yourself that 18 is a respectable age to lose your virginity.  Before you lose it in the back seat of his car, you come to the mature decision to get on birth control.  Your mom isn't fond of your boyfriend, so you need a game plan because she has taken your car away with the hopes that you will no longer date him.  Here is a word of advice, learn how to be a better liar and cover all your tracks.  Somehow your plan of faking your mom's signature to get out of school half a day and convincing 2 classmates to drive you to family planning results in your appointment running 2 hours late, your friends leaving you at the clinic because they are worried their parents are going to find out what they did (also you do not have a cell phone at this time) and you getting a ride from Beaver Falls to Rochester High School from a complete stranger making it just in time before your mom picks you up from school.  Somehow within the 5 minute drive from the High School to your house, your mother discovers the birth control (peeking out of your book bag) and goes in to cardiac arrest. 

                At the age of 19 you discover you are of legal drinking age in Canada.  You and an old friend decide to go for Spring Break.  Rather than choosing a warm climate, you choose Canada.  You discover 2 things: 1. Male strippers get fully nude in Canada and 2. Losing your license in a foreign country doesn't mean instant deportation.  You will revisit Canada 2 more consecutive years.  Your third trip to Canada when you are 21 is a charm when you learn 2 key elements about life and yourself.  You learn that Tequila is not your friend.  While trying to hang with the Greeks, who are taking each other shot for shot similar to the scene from Raiders of the Lost Arc, you on the other hand take 1 shot and proceed to leave a trail of projectile vomit starting in the hallway and leading to the top of the toilet.  You also discover the meaning of "passing out with your shoes on."  You and the girls will invite male strippers back to your hotel room, at which point you pass out before the party even starts.  This leads to a video camera recording of a Canadian stripper mushroom stamping your passed out drunken ass.  Where you never see this video, it has yet to appear on a Canadian Porn Website. 

                During college, you meet people that strangely come back in to your life later on, and constantly remind you of your drunken partying while at State College.  One day, you will decide to hop in your car and make an impromptu visit to your friends.  Drinking pitchers of Captain and Coke at 3 p.m will result in 2 things:  Taking your first drunk shower and learning that you cannot do make up while under the influence.  The genius in you sets in that night, and you switch to Long Island Ice Tea's once you hit the G-man.  Shortly thereafter you are kicked out for falling down, and one of your friends fireman carries you back to the apartment and throws you in to your friends bed.  When you wake up on the couch the next morning confused, you are then informed that you managed to piss in his bed, and no longer have bed privileges.

                At age 21, you reconnect with a long lost flame.  This turns in to a 3 year relationship.  I'm not saying don't do it, I'm just saying don't be so naive.  You will discover what you think is the means of a normal relationship, when in return it is completely opposite.  By the time you are 26 you learn key lessons about men based on not only your 2 serious relationships, but also the guys in-between.

                 Lesson 1.

                                When a guy uses phrases such as: "You feel so good I can't control myself," "I promise it will get better and I will go longer," "I just haven't been myself lately", in context to their performance in the bedroom, you will learn that they are and always will be a 2 pump chump.  Being that most of your sexual encounters up to this point have lasted under  5 minutes, you will grow accustomed to this, and when you discover stamina you will get bored with it.  You eventually  become unable to concentrate after 5 minutes, get bored and let  your mind wander about what groceries you need to purchase and how much laundry you have to do. 

                Lesson 2.

                                Your 16 year old self thinks that drug dealers, wanna be thugs and bad boys are hot.  You grow out of this phase around 24, and rather than thinking they are hot, you now think they are pathetic and lame.  Unfortunately the newly single you hits another road block when you discover that every single guy you meet during this time wears either Ed Hardy or Affliction clothing and thinks he is training to be an MMA fighter.   It only gets worse.  Around 27-28 this thing called the Jersey Shore phenomena takes over...I don't want to spoil it for you, but I will suggest this: consider opening up a sunless tanning business and a gym.

                At the age of 22, you purchase your first Playgirl.  On your way to Erotica to celebrate someone's birthday, you will stop at a convince store for a mixer.  At this point you will see it peeking from behind the counter, ask to purchase it, and then proceed to tell the foreign cashier, "I'm so excited I have something new to buzz away to tonight."  After this, it remains in your car for some time and you forget about it.  It isn't until one day, when your mother is cleaning out your car and discovers it that you remember you had it.  After your mother nearly has a coronary, you proceed to make up some story about it being a gag gift for a friend.  Unconvinced, your mother never fully recovers from this experience and secretly thinks you have an addiction to porn, yet is relieved to know you are not swinging for the other team. 

                On New Year's eve when you are 24, you and your ex will mutually end the 3 relationship.  Your mother will suggest an online dating service.  DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT LISTEN TO HER.  Similar to your addiction with your vibrator, you will find yourself on not just 1 but eventually 9 dating websites.  You will become a serial dater, resulting in up to 3 dates a week sometimes.  Some of these guys are normal, others are just off the fucking wall, but none of them are what you are looking for.  You eventually rely on online dating so much, that you turn socially awkward and lose your ability to spit game in a real life setting.  It takes you 4 years , and a guy you meet online who makes out with his ex girlfriend right in front of you "even though they are just friends"  to make you realize that internet dating is pointless.  The only blessing that comes out of this, is that you get so fed up with the ridiculous messages that you receive, you decide to start a blog that people actually find entertaining and funny.

                Since you had a boyfriend during your early 20s, now freshly single, you are bound and determined to make up for lost time.  Where Captain has always been your drink of choice, you discover the joys of vodka and red bull.  This leads to memorable nights of: throwing your back out from dancing too much, running the fastest mile of your life on Maria's treadmill at 2:30 am in your bra and underwear, convincing yourself you can fly and nose dive off a toilet in to a bathtub, stealing a homeless mans buggy and most important of all, developing vodka goggles.  The decisions that you make involving vodka will give your friends unforgettable stories that will eventually become ammunition in friendly banter.  Your drinking shenanigans will eventually be known as "the Shelby beast"  and potential boyfriends will actually stop talking to you upon witnessing this.  

                Somewhere between 27 and 28 you will develop a terrible habit of drunk dialing and texting.  This will result in pissing off your friends, vagina blocking yourself to a guy that you do in fact actually care about, 3 am heartfelt conversations that only you remember, and questionable pictures of random body parts.  Some days, you wake up and laugh about it.  Other days, depending on the recipient, you get sick to your stomach.  Stop being cheap and pay the $1.99 for the drunk text app and save  yourself the embarrassment.

               

                I hope I haven't spoiled the next 13 years of your life too much.  As I look back on these memories, along with the ones I left out, I gotta tell you it's been one hell of a ride. You will never be perfect, but don't try to be.  Don't live in regret, learn from it and move on.  Don't be afraid to love, even if the feeling isn't always mutual.  Don't follow your heart either, your heart always seems to want to take you out of state (don't worry, I'm working on that).  All and all, I secretly wish I could be you right now, and relive it all over again.  Yeah, you are not where you thought you would be at this age: dog, house, husband, kids, but you know what Shelby, even if that life isn't in the cards for us, at least I can look back in 13 years from now and still smile about how blessed I am to have my family, friends, career, and people that have stumbled in and out of my life.

Keep it real...

Happy Valentine's Day to those who are attached, and Happy Singles Awareness Appreciation day to the rest of you that fall in to my category!

Shelby

The Lies I've Told People

                     I don't know if it's my drunken alter ego, or my need for pure entertainment in my life, but looking back in to the past, I have definitely told total strangers ridiculous lies.  Not with any malicious intent of course, but for strict entertainment for me and my friends.   A lot of these stories have either been retold to me, or a version that I barely remember due to extreme alcohol consumption.  With the help of Maria, Niki and Jamie, and in the spirit of just finishing Chelsea Handler's book on tape(thanks Jess!) "The Lies Chelsea Handler has told me", here are some of my own stories for your entertainment.

Some drunk bitch

                I remember this one like it was yesterday, only because I am reminded of it all the time.  Back before there were weddings, babies, and relationships, there were 6 girls that used to go out religiously on Friday Nights to the South Side.  Jimmy D's used to be our hotspot in our mid 20's.  One night, and apparently too many drinks, I found myself in the bathroom throwing up.  Apparently, my stomach was not as strong back then.  On a drunk scale of 1 - 10, I was at about a strong 7.  After pulling myself together, or so I thought, I headed back upstairs to rejoin my friends.  Along the way, I noticed people staring at me.  I thought maybe it was because of drunken paranoia or something, so I just kept on going searching for my friends.  When I rejoined my friends, they were in total disgust.  Apparently, drunk me was incapable of wiping all of the vomit from my face/hair, and I was walking around with it all over me. 

                           Trying to maintain my composure and not look like an asshole, I told my friends that "some drunk bitch threw up all over me in the bathroom."  My friends know me well, and knew that I was totally bullshitting them, but proceeded to play along.  About 30 minutes later, my drunken Shelby senses spotted a hottie by the bar.  With all the liquid courage I needed, I walked over to him and struck up a conversation.  Mid way through the conversation he asks, "Umm did you throw up, it looks like you have vomit on you."  I then proceeded to keep my story from earlier about how some drunk bitch was in the bathroom projectile vomiting and I was caught in the crossfire.  Not really sure if he believed me, I then proceeded to point out a random girl in the crowd "accusing her" of doing it, and explained how I ended up getting a free drink out of it, and it seriously was not my vomit.  Apparently I was convincing.  Not only did he believe me, I also ended up drunkenly making out with him later on in the night. 

The moral of the story:  Not even vomit can ruin a drunk girls game.

Summers in Warren

                I met Lam and Maria when I was 15.  I was only friends with Lam at first, because I thought her brother was super hot and I wanted to get close to him.  After realizing him and I's incompatibility, I ended up remaining friends with Lam and Maria, because they were actually quite fun to be around.  They are Greek, so one requirement of being a Greek person's friend, is that you occasionally have to attend Greek functions.  Since we were fairly young, and not old enough to drive, we would be escorted in Lam and Maria's mom's red mini-van to Warren, OH to visit her grandparents.  Every year, the town of Warren would host a huge Greek festival including rides, dancing and of course authentic Greek food.  I had never ate a gyro before I met them, and discovering Lamb meat was a holy experience for me.  Once we got to the festival and got comfortable with our surroundings, we discovered there was a gyro conspiracy and the meat they were serving was not real "off the spit", but was the kind you would see at a grocery store.  Being 3 disappointed girls, we decided to sit on a park bench next to a Ferris Wheel and sulk. 

                     Back then, when Lam and I needed entertainment, we would play a game we made up called the "Name Game."  Basically we would shout out random names at people as they walked by.  If we got it right, we got a point, when we were wrong, people just thought we had turrets.  So me, Lam and Maria decided to play the game.  After about 10 minutes of shouting random names, we actually ended up guessing the name of a guy around our age.  (I don't remember who got the name right, I'm assuming it was me considering the events to follow.)  This good looking kid comes up to us dumbfounded and confused asking us who we are.  For a good 10 minutes Lam and I playing off of each other convincing this guy that we had not only partied with him before, but that him and Lam fooled around in his grandma's closet during a 7 minutes in Heaven game.  Feeling terrible that he doesn't remember, and Lam acting totally offended, he asked us if we wanted to walk around with him.  After about 20 min the kid gets quite ballsy and starts coming on to Lam again..or so he thought.  I don't remember exactly how we ditched him, but me, Lam and Maria made some excuse as to why we had to go (I'm thinking we made up a curfew excuse) and left the festival.

Moral of the story:  Even at a young age, if a guy thinks he's been somewhere before, he will attempt to go for it again. 

Jesus Take the Wheel    

                This past Thanksgiving, I was home in the county visiting my family.  I normally do not like to get drunk in my hometown, because if I do anything stupid or outrageous, it will be headline news the next day via the gossip chain.  Me and my friend Jamie decided to go local for a few adult beverages.  After bar hopping all night, we ended up at an old friend of ours bar.  On a drunk scale I was at about a 6.  Jamie and I grab a table in the back part of the restaurant, and we then start having a very serious, heartfelt conversation about some recent events.  As we are mid conversation, making some sort of leeway, a guy that looks like Harry Potters older brother comes over and sits down next to me in our booth.  Looking confused and thinking that he may know Jamie, I look at him and say hello and introduce myself.  As Jamie is introducing herself, I realize neither of us don't know him, and its game on for rudely interrupting our conversation.  Jamie knew it was on too, when I told the kid I was 25. 

                  It started when I made a comment about European Clubs and how you can get drugs on every corner (I've never been to Europe).  He then proceeded to ask me if I did drugs, and this is where things went spiraling out of control.  I told him that I used to be a big drug addict until I found God.  I joined a seminary, but only to leave 6 months in because I found out that masturbation is not allowed in the church.  I then went back to school for business, and I now travel all over the world for a college food service vendor.  Jamie had instantly became a nurse at Allegheny General and had been dating a guy for a very long time, that I was convinced was a homosexual.  We told this guy that Jamie's imaginary boyfriend only will have doggy style sex with her, and asked her to wear a strap on.  She had also caught him looking at gay porn at home.  I think this guy felt sorry for Jamie, because he tried telling her that he was gay, while I am sitting at the table praying for her telling him that god doesn't forgive homosexuals. 

                 At this point, I run in to someone that I graduated with, and as I leave the table, hoping this guy will too, he tells Jamie that super religious people tend to freak him out.  Coming back to him, still sitting there Jamie and I pull out all the stops, bantering back and forth about things we have actually done, but accusing the other of doing it.  After this doesn't work and he is not weirded out at all, Jamie goes in for the ultimate lie..."Well Shelby what about the herpes"... Silence falls on the table, and I have never seen anyone jump up and run away so fast in my life.

Moral of the story:  Lying about herpes will repel unwanted guests from any situation.

No really, I can't hear you            

                                        This story is a little fuzzy but I remember the basics.  I can't remember which friends I was with, but I do remember we were at Jimmy D's.  The place was crawling with young guys and it was right around the time that the Jersey Shore "douche bag" look started hitting Pittsburgh.  I was out on the dance floor doing my typical "I think I can dance when I'm drunk" moves, when I realized I was all alone on the dance floor.  My friends had disappeared, and I had no clue what was going on.   I started aimlessly walking around until I found them, uncomfortably talking to a couple of guys.  Being that we were inseparable back then and almost had telepathic communication, I knew they were in trouble and needed to intervene.   I walked up to them, and started flipping my fingers as if I was trying to say something.  Confused, my friends had no clue what I was doing, so once the guy had stopped paying attention to my extravagant entrance, I lipped to them "sign language, i'm deaf." 

                          Not really sure how the hell I was going to pull this one off, I literally just started moving my fingers around, almost as if I had turrets syndrome.  Confused, the guys that were hitting on my friends tried being polite and started introducing themselves.  It was at that point, that in as if I had a dick in my throat, I proceeded to speak in my best deaf dialect.  I then proceeded to ask them (again in my best deaf dialect) to talk slowly so I could "lip read."  It was at this point that I officially appeared as if I was having a seizure( with all of the movement going on with my hands.)  It must have been working, because the one guy asked me (very slowly of course), "how do you hear the music?".  I channeled my 8th grade self, and proceeded to tap the floor similar to the Cotton Eyed Joe dance, trying to get the point across that I could "feel the vibrations."   With my friends completely embarrassed, but also thankful for me saving them they politely excused themselves from the conversation because they needed to "grab me before I got out of control."

Moral of the story:  If you talk and act like a Jersey Shore douchebag, your conversation will fall upon deaf ears.

Cougar Barb and Company

                I was visiting an old friend who had recently moved down south.  After a few low key nights of just hanging out and catching up, we decided to go out on the town for a night.  The bar that was chosen was the equivalent of a McFadden's or Tilted Kilt, so I just wore some casual jeans and a tank top.  Upon arrival of the bar, I was shocked to see the amount of people drinking at 9pm, must be a southern thing.  It was a beautiful night, so we decided to stalk people outside, until a table opened up.  The two of us sat down at a large round table that could accommodate about 6 people.  We then proceeded to engage in what we do best: people watch, drink, and make fun of people.  We are mid-conversation, when out of nowhere, he stops mid conversation and tells me to look at the door.  Standing there are 2 middle aged women that were dressed as if they were coming from a wedding.  Confused and concerned for the well being of any male between the ages of 21-30 at the bar, I laughed it off and proceeded to drink my Redbull and cherry vodka.  Next thing I know, I get a tap on my shoulder and low and behold it is one of the cougars.  If I had to guess, she was probably early 50s, wearing a beaded plum cocktail dress, had a face lift and possibly a boob job, and had blonde hair similar to a Playboy bunny.  She was in excellent shape for her age, and where you could clearly tell she was trying to cling to her youth, she was actually quite pretty.  She politely asks me if I would mind if she sat in the empty chair next to me, at which I told her not at all.  I looked over at my friend, who gave me the "Oh Jesus" look, because he knew me well enough to know that it was game on. 

                    Her name was Barb.  She was a recently divorced woman practically gave me her whole life story within 5 min.  She hated her ex husband, the woman she was with was her best friend, recent cancer survivor and also recently divorced.  She made it perfectly clear what her agenda was that night, to find someone to make her feel "young."  I then caught her staring at my friend with her geriatric bedroom eyes, I had 1 of two options...To save him from an unwanted cougar attack or antagonize the situation which could possibly end in walking home.  My time was up, she finally allowed me to talk.  Rather than being a dick (surprising right?) I decided to take the high road and inform her that he was my boyfriend.  She then proceeded to hit me with tons of questions, "Where did you meet?, how long have you been together?, How old are you guys? etc.  Within 5 min, I had made up an imaginary relationship.  I told her that he saved my life in a boating accident while I was on vacation, we had been together for over a year and that I am concerned about the relationship because I am older and don't feel he is ready to settle down and with the distance thing, it was straining our relationship.  Trying not to laugh, my friend excuses himself and goes to grab us another drink.  During this time, she proceeds to tell me how amazing of a couple we are, and how truly happy we seem.  She was convinced that he was my destiny.  I proceeded to tell her how much I loved him, but just wasn't sure about the distance thing.  Then like a romance novel and with her all worldly knowledge, she decides to give me a lecture about love.  Returning to the table, with no clue as to what had just occurred, she starts grilling my friend telling him how lucky he is and how amazing I am.  Grinding his teeth as his he is agreeing she then stuns him with the most awkward question anyone can ask in an imaginary relationship, "When are you going to put a ring on it."  As I saw his tanned skin turn a pale white in udder terror, I intervened and told her  "We have some issues to work out first." 

                 We then proceeded to walk next door, cougar crew in tow to a club at which I promised the girls I would get them laid.  It was my turn to buy a round, and I was at about a 8 level  of drunkenness, so me and Cougar Barb's friend went to the bar to by shots.  $54 dollars and 4 shots later, I walked outside, to see Cougar Barb whispering in my friends ear practically sitting on his lap.  Confused, and a little pissed off like any imaginary girlfriend would, I see my friend looking at me with a shit eating grin on his face.  Rather than making an imaginary scene, I sat real close next to Barb as if I was her new best friend.  At this point she was just sloppy drunk, she grabs my face, turns my head and proceeds to tell me I should reconsider our relationship because he is immature and just asked her to join us for a 3 some, and she assured me she would be down, however she couldn't leave her friend hanging.  I then proceeded to pick an imaginary fight with my imaginary boyfriend because I was getting drunker and didn't know how long I could keep up the shenanigans.  Holding me up as I was stumbling out of the bar, we proceeded to laugh the entire way home. 

Moral of the story: Never leave a cougar alone with your imaginary boyfriend or you may end up in an imaginary 3 some. 

Keeping it Real - well sort of

Shelby