Did I Do That?

Have you ever been talking to someone you've known for a while and then, totally out of the blue, they ask you if you remember a really embarrassing moment that happened a long time ago? That happens to me all the time. I remember pretty much everything that can be considered worth remembering or even worth forgetting, but every once in a while, someone brings up something and I have no idea what they are talking about.

Me: ... and then my toe turned blue and I nearly pissed myself. My life is so cray-cray unbelievable sometimes!
Them: Speaking of your life! Do you remember that time when you snort-farted on that one Thursday in that one class that one year when you were wearing that blue shirt?

Lindsey, it's the crack talking!

Me: I have no idea what you're talking about.
Them: You're shitting me! You've got to remember it! It was a classic Angela moment!
Me: No, I really don't.
Me: Am I being Punk'd?
Me: Do I get to meet Ashton?
Them: What?
Me: What?

So, after that, I'm just obsessed with trying to remember this one moment of my life that, of all the mortifying things that have happened to me, I seem to have repressed from my memory. And that string of thoughts morphs into me thinking about how many other memories I don't remember that someone else remembers and will probably tell stories about without me being aware at all. How many blackmail-worthy memories about me are out there that I don't know about? Probably a million. And when I'm totally famous and have millions of dollars, you just know that ALL of the embarrassing stories are going to come out from under the bed of my life.

I'm not ashamed of my past or the moments that I'd probably love to have never happened. I'm just going to be very pissed if I find out old classmates or best friends are making money off my humiliation. I want to cash-in on that sucker. It's my life, after all! I deserve to be monetizing myself! Who needs prostitution when you can get paid for being totally awkward and clumsy? Don't sell your body, sell your pain!

He looks sad and homeless. What's with
the Eddie Munster hair? It's totally because
of the diabetes. 

And let's face it, I'll probably need the extra cash to pay for my diabetes (pronounced die-uh-beat-us) medication (because y'all know I'm going to totally have high glucose levels for the rest of my life from all the Sour Patch Kids I eat every week) that I'll buy out of pocket because I'll be too lazy to fill out forms for health insurance.

Wait. Where was I going with this? 

Anyway, the lesson here is that you should never leave your house because then there are absolutely no chances of doing anything in the least bit embarrassing where people will actually see you and then proceed to form memories about that embarrassing moment involving you. Also, if you never leave your house, your chances of dying probably go down so that's a bonus! Also, don't sell your body to pay for insulin. It's not worth it. Look how Nick Jonas turned out.

New life goal: Don't become Nick Jonas. Or smoke crack.