“We are the reckless, we are the wild youth.”

I recently went through my photos on Facebook. You know, those photos from the very beginning…and…

what

a

life.

I now ask myself a few questions:

1. How did I survive?

2. Do I still have a liver?

3. Can I please have that sweet innocent high school freedom back?

4. Where did the time go?

I remember the first time alcohol affected my judgment [applaud] as well as the second time, although not as clearly. My first “hammered off my ass” kiss with the guy I thought was soooo cute. (Note to young self: “High school cute” is MUCH different than “reality cute”.) Getting high at the end of your closing shift…or during it…or both. Legitimate pole dancing class-but just once-and at least I had the heels. Waking up in Canada and realizing that my ass being tattooed, well, that did happen. Or waking up with our noses pierced and an empty handle of red wine. Or waking up with nothing on but a rather large zip up that isn’t even mine. Or, last but not least, waking up with chocolate cake on every square foot of the first and second floor. Thank God that party wasn’t at my house. …we may have burned a hole in the floor…

My friends and I streaking through a field in HarCo on a warm summer night. It was definitely a Ya Ya Sisterhood moment. Hanging out of the windows of our friend’s fathers SUV going 50 down the back roads of Baldwin. Letting our shirts go. Letting our cares go. Bon fires consisting of fireworks and gasoline. (yes, some people did catch on fire that night) My friend and I would pull over on the side of a back road in the dead of night and hit baseballs into a field-simply for the hell of it. While other friends would join me in an adventure to “the shore house” to get smashed on the lovely Middle River water [sarcasm] and make friends with the pelicans. (yes, I was attacked by one) Two words: road trip. Rhode Island? Why not? It’s not like we had an agenda anyway.

And most of the texting convos went something like:

Friend1: Party?

Me: Done.

Friend2: Alc?

Me: Done.

Friend3: Shore house?

Me: Done.

Friend4: Lets just GO.

Me: Done.

& then I wonder how the time flew by.  How did I live this way? How could I not have lived this way! It was easy. Especially when all you had to do was show up for class and wait tables for minimum wage. It was just a matter of not giving a shit! We all know how this went. We were all professionals at this weren’t we?

wildyouth2

Youth1

wP12

wildyouth1

 

Don’t try to understand this last photo. It is for me and the people who understand.

 Despite my constant socializing into the morning hours I did manage to keep up my attendance in class (religiously). I would not miss a single class, even if that meant vomiting on my teacher at 8am, which I almost did. Why, 1 on 1 English 101 sessions, why!?

So when I heard the lyrics,”we are the reckless, we are the wild youth” it really resonated with me, or my past rather. (and probably many people’s past) My future? Not so much.  I’ve definitely slowed it down. I guess you could call it growing up. I went from the “wild child” to “an old soul” in a matter of a few years.

Life has a way of doing that to you.

But knowing me I’ll pick up the slack soon. 😉

 

 

 

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