This is such a huge thing on Instagram in the form of pictures, I thought I’d transfer it over to not Instagram and write out a memory in honor of this weekly day people look forward to so much.
I iced myself before it was a thing, all the way back in 2002.
One Friday night, I was home alone (to be clear: it wasn’t the ONLY Friday night I was ever alone. It was one of many). I remember sitting up on the family computer – a PC that weighed about 226 pounds. Who knows what I was doing on there. Probably instant messaging, concocting the world’s greatest away message known to man (wait. Can we all take a second to realize that “away messages” were the first status updates? Zuckerberg helped us by suffocating them down to simple, one word sentence at first, i.e. “Emma is at the library,” but that didn’t last too long, did it? You cannot hold our emotions prisoner for too long. We WILL find a way to tell the internet how we feel one way or another).
So, there I am – typing away to friends about cute guys in school, and most likely flirting with some of those cute guys in school, pretending I was a lot cooler and experienced than I actually was (I didn’t even tongue kiss ’til I was 15). Suddenly, I decided I was thirsty, but not for water. I wanted something tasty, something refreshing and full of flavor. I made my way down to the kitchen, and happened upon Smirnoff Ice in the fridge. Why my parents had this on hand is a mystery to me to this day. Granted, my Jewish father gets blacked out on half a Miller Lite, so perhaps this frosty, girly beverage did the trick for him and satisfied his low threshold in a fun, new way?
Regardless, it was there. And what’s funny is – I knew it involved alcohol, but I don’t think I understood it would be considered a bad thing to drink it? I truly don’t think I fully grasped that, although it was an incredibly sugary beverage with laughably low ABV percentages, it was still alcohol. I really have thought about this multiple times, but cannot fully recollect my logic behind grabbing that bottle of Smirnoff, bringing it back upstairs with me, and proceeding to drink it like some pansy-ass loser home alone on a Friday night. As casual as I was about it, I knew enough to be sure and hide the evidence. Not wanting the bottle to be discovered in the communal family trash can in the kitchen, I shoved the empty bottle into a drawer next to the computer, with every intention to discard of exhibit A as soon as I could.
But I forgot. Because I was 14, and really stupid. So, weeks later, in the midst of one my usual Alanis Morissette belting sessions, my mom called my name to come downstairs. As I rounded the corner, there she stood, empty Smirnoff Ice bottle in hand, look of confusion/disgust/disapproval/concern on every inch of her face.
“Emily? What’s this?”
“Oh. I. Uh.”
“Is this yours? I found it in the computer drawer upstairs when I went to get some paper.”
“Um. I. Yes. It’s mine…”
“When did you drink this, Emily?”
“A few weeks ago. On a Friday. You guys were out at dinner and I just wanted something different to drink and I don’t know why I drank that – I didn’t even get drunk!? I’m so sorry. I really don’t know what I was thinking???”
“I can’t believe this. You just casually had some alcohol like that? Do you do this often? We need to have a discussion? Do you have a problem?”
“NO! I SWEAR! I really don’t know why I did it!!! I’m so sorry. It wasn’t even worth anything! And I meant to throw it away…”
“So you clearly knew it wasn’t okay to do since you hid it. In a computer drawer.”
It was one of the biggest 14-year-old brain farts I ever had. What a weirdo. Sometimes (most of the time), my actions make little to no sense. I guess that’s when it all started, huh?
So, the point is, there is my written Throwback Thursday. That one time I had casual drinks with myself at 14 like a fucking oddball. I iced myself before it was a thing. Now THAT’S progressive.
GET ON ONE KNEE AND CHUG!