That Time You’re Recognized From a Facebook Photo

So my weekend was pretty interesting. I got invited to a party weeks ago and was really excited about it. The host posted photos of the decorations he was putting up all month long and my anticipation and excitement grew as the date came closer. I debated what I should be. Katniss? A crazy cat lady? A zombie Mitt Romney? Nothing seemed right until one day, I was struck with inspiration for a costume that was truly perfect and screamed NATALIE. And also something else, but I’ll get to that.

The party was great. Perfect amount of people, great food, PLENTY of drinks (and when I say plenty I mean enough to get Texas drunk), and the host went all-out. I mean it. He decorated every single room in his house. It was amazing! I had a wonderful time, met some fun people, had too many Jell-O shots, played with a Ouija board and acted like I knew what the hell I was doing, ended up piling in a car with two Oompa-Loompas (one was sober), a zombie cat lady, and Honey Boo Boo and we drove off to the (very haunted, if you believe in that sort of thing) Chickamauga Battlefield at 1 A.M. like a car full of 16 year olds with nothing better to do.

All in all, it was an extremely fun night.

On Monday, I walked into Nellie’s day care only to be stopped by one of her teachers:

Her: Hey! I meant to ask you – how do you know Justin?
Me: *frozen* Uhhhh… Justin *lastname*?
Her: Yeah!
Me: You…. saw the tagged Halloween party pictures on Facebook, didn’t you.
Her: Yeah, I did! We went to high school together, and I was looking through the party pictures and saw you and thought you looked familiar, but it was hard to tell with your costume. Then I saw your name and was like OMG that’s Nellie’s mom!
Me: *mentally running through the tagged photos I saw and wondering if I was caught taking Jell-O shots* Ha.. haa… Yeah! It was.. a fun time…

Miraculously, the party paparazzi didn’t snap a single photo of me imbibing. It did, however, catch me in all my costumed glory:

I’m not sure if this is more or less embarrassing than a photo of me double-fisting Jell-O shots and eating pigs-in-a-blanket while hunched over a Oujia board. While I’m not embarrassed of my costume (because it’s fucking AMAZING), I learned from the party that trying to explain ERMAHGERD to someone who hasn’t heard of it is the most awkward thing ever. Luckily the girl did not ask about my costume and let me go on my awkward way.

OH, FACEBOOK. YOU AND YOUR TAGGING MADNESS. You crazy ass social bastard.