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Happy Monday everyone!

Of course if we're really being honest with ourselves this is not a happy Monday. It's kind of yucky outside and most of us have just come off a 4 day bender weekend and the last place we want to be is stuck in our respective cubicles/offices/mundane jobs. But have no fear because B McBlogger is here to brighten your day with a little post!

I'm going to try and make this short and sweet. So this weekend was awesome for me. I mean awesome is probably the biggest understatement of the world - it was epic! amazing! dare I say LEGENDARY! And I'm pretty sure that you all would expect nothing less from me if you read my post last week about the Best Week Ever. It was better than that! But I'm not going to delve into all of the details of each one of my legendary days and nights last week because 1) I don't have that much time and 2) even if I describe it in excruciating detail, you won't appreciate it unless you were there. Another day my friends, another day.

What I am going to talk about is the somewhat rude awakening I had Thursday morning. Yes, Thursday, as in Thanksgiving. What? you say...rude awakening? but it's your favorite holiday! What happened? Well, I'll tell you. I woke up at precisely 9:44 when my roommate PCBH came in and crawled into bed with me. An activity that frequently occurs after a night of heavy drinking and hilarity. She had a pretty awesome story to tell after all - but again, another day for this. So we're talking and giggling as school-girls do and finally decide that it's time to parentify the house (since PCBH's family was coming to town) and get ready and shower. So I look at my phone to check the time again and realize I have about 6 or 7 emails and a facebook friend request. from my dad.

(silence)

(crickets)

(more silence)

(more crickets)

(more and more silence)

(more and more crickets)

um...what is this? I ask myself. Dad is on facebook? not ok. in any way, shape or form. Now, I'm well aware that facebook is open to ANYONE with a valid email address but god I wish that wasn't the case. I don't want to be friends with Mr. McBlogger Sr. -- for a few reasons. Let's go through these, shall we?

1. I have been known to use a little bit of foul language on facebook - not so much explicit cursing because I'm peeved about something, but more like "my car battery wont start today, FML". And I could probably get away with saying something like "FML" but then comes the question from Dear old Dad - "what does FML mean?" "well dad it means Freak My Life, but not Freak, it's the bad word instead. It's actually really funny because there's a whole website where people submit their own FMLs and it's funny because you get to laugh at other people's crappy situations", "There's a website for it? Do you think you should be really be laughing at other people's misfortunes? much less even abbreviating that saying on facebook? you know, future employers could see that and not want to hire you as a result - and it's really unattractive for women or ANYONE to use that kind of language. I thought you were above this kind of behavior...." and the lecture will continue and he'll tell me he's "disappointed" in me and then I'll want to bury my head in my pillow until I suffocate or rub my face on a cheese grater.
2. I drink. Probably more often than Dad should know. Or maybe not "more often than Dad should know" but "drink to the point of drunk-eyes in photos more often than Dad should know". My parents know that I go out fairly frequently. This is not new news to them. I have the following conversation with my mother at least once a week "So B, what are your plans this weekend?", "Oh, well it's (insert friends name here)'s birthday on Friday and then Saturday is game day so we're going to hit the bars Friday night, head to Athens Saturday and tailgate - it's a 7:15 game so we'll be out there all day. I'm staying with my friend (insert name here) saturday night and we'll probably hit the bars again.", "Oh, well do you want to come over and have dinner with your father and I on Thursday?", "Oh, I can't Mom, I'm going out to (insert bar name in atlanta here) to see my friends band play.", "Well, what about Sunday?", "Um...yeah I might be able to do Sunday but not until like 7 or 8.", "Well ok, that sounds good, call us when you get back into town." So I get back into town around 3pm on Sunday and park it on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, floating in and out of consciousness and nursing my hangover with snack food and gatorade while catching up on some of my favorite shows in the event that I went out on Thursday. Then i'll get a phone call from Mom around 7:00, "B, I thought you were going to call us when you got back into town? Are you still coming over for dinner?", "Oh, mom, I'm exhausted, I really need to get a good night's sleep tonight to get ready for work tomorrow. Can we have a rain-check?" Like I said, my going-out behavior is not a mystery to my parents, but I don't think they really understand, nor would approve of documentation of my drunk-eyes. Yes, I have quite a few pictures on FB that if Dad saw them he would probably be shocked and appalled at because I look absolutely UN-sober in them. And thus starts the inevitable disappointment conversation (again), followed by me wanting to bury my head in my pillow until I suffocate or rub my face on a cheese grater.
3. Other friends posts. You know, I'm all for hilarious websites that make me laugh so hard that I'm on the verge of peeing my pants. Really, I do love them. But in most cases, again, they're highly inappropriate when I think about showing them to my parents. It's not that my parent's don't appreciate a good slap-stick comedy, but TFLN, FML, and SNL digital shorts from HULU (among other things) are typically offensive to people from our parents generation. They use foul language and generally discuss topics about sex, drugs and alcohol. All of which are "taboo" as far as my parents are concerned. Usually I get quite a kick out of any post that starts with a "(insert area code here):..." but for some reason or other, I'm pretty positive that dear old dad would NOT be amused. And then there are the wall posts that people mention something embarrassing about you or talk about how you were "so wasted" the other night or mention an inside joke that just sounds like there's some sexual innuendo hidden behind it. These will all inevitably lead to Dad questioning what it meant when (insert name here) said that thing on your wall about (insert inappropriate subject here). Then he's disappointed in me (once more!), I want to bury my head in a pillow until I suffocate or rub my face on a cheese grater.

Now I know what some of you may be thinking, "Um, aren't you aware of the Limited Profile option on FB?" And yes, I am - but if I block Dad from everything he's going to know something is up. And he'll question me "Why can't I write on your wall?", "uh...well dad, I don't have a wall..." and then I'm lying and then it leads to another disappointment conversation somewhere down the road and...well, I think you know what happens after that.

So, anyway, I think that's enough bitching for today. I have not accepted my dad's friend request yet, I'm still sitting on it wishing it would just disappear. I gotta clean up my profile. But it'll take forever! And I don't want to get rid of everything I have on there! It's hard when you've been a member since 2004! Ugh, FML. Hope Dad doesn't get a-hold of this blog...

B