Now that I am 41, all of these boys are my friends on Facebook.
Which is a little weird.
In eighth grade, my best friend and I began referring to John Miller as "Mr. Tush."
John was a soccer player and whatever his coach had him doing was totally working for him.
Despite his admirable assets, I'm pretty sure John and I never spoke to each other in the five years between eighth and twelfth grades.
I really didn't know him.
When I became "friends" with him on Facebook I curiously clicked over to his profile to find out how things had, you know, held up.
There were no photo's posted on John's page so, initiating what was possibly our first communication ever, I wrote on his wall:
"WHAT?! No pictures?! I'm going to quit being your friend on Facebook."
To which he replied,
"I'm waiting to get my Park Ranger uniform back from the Dry Cleaners."
[What possesses me to publish this information on the Internet??!!]
Another boy that I didn't know at all, never spoke to once, was Ven.
This is a picture of Ven during high school. (I stole it from his Facebook photo album because we are Facebook friends now.)
Initiating my first ever communication with Ven, I left a comment on this photo which said:
"You totally owe me $70."
He wrote back asking why.
One weekend during high school, my parents went out of town and left me home on my own.
Because I was a genius from the AP class, I decided to throw a keg party in their absence.
Just weeks earlier, my friend Scott had thrown one when his parents were out of town.
Scott's party was really successful.
All the cool kids were there...
... and I drove his parent's car into their garage door; our friend Kevin pulled the ceiling fan out of it's socket; our friend Mike punched a hole in the bathroom drywall; and Corm projectile vomited while spinning in circles on the dance floor (also known as the shag-carpeted living room).
My keg party was also SUPER successful too.
My parents came home a day early and arrived right in the middle of it!
Ven was at my party and do you know what he did while he was there?
Let me show you...
When my parents walked in, Ven was on the phone and he continued to talk even as the party broke up.
I got in big, fat trouble for having the party in the first place, but when my Father got the phone bill with the call to South America, he hit the roof.
I was too intimidated by Ven's rock hair to confront him about his phone bill, so I had to get a job to pay my parents back.
When I told Ven this story he offered to send me a bottle of wine, but I refused.
I decided to go for something a little more vintage.
"It's going to cost you your shirt," I said stealing another image from Facebook.
It's only fitting.