Today, I came across a meme that hit me like a ton of bricks: “I literally relate the least to the person who posted my 2008 Facebook posts.” I felt that in my soul. Gone are the days of typing in caps lock like I was shouting at the internet and posting cryptic, passive-aggressive nonsense. Now, my social media is a calm sea of family photos and the occasional hilarious anecdote from my kids. And when I say my toddler is a whole vibe, I mean she’s basically a one-person circus.

Recently, I went out with one my oldest and bestest friends, Ashley. We’ve been on this ride together since we were 13, which means she’s witnessed every cringeworthy phase of my life—much like I’ve seen hers. Back in the day, we had this unspoken rule: if you go out together, you leave together. If communication goes dark, you send in the cavalry. We used to spend nights "shoe shopping" which, spoiler alert, never ended with us actually buying shoes. We laugh about it now, but those were some wild times.

So, on a recent adventure, Ashley scored tickets to see our favorite high school band, “Boys Like Girls.” We were obsessed with them. We spent countless hours cruising with the windows down, blasting their tunes.

Honestly, this concert was one I was sincerely looking forward to because I know neither of us have much of an opportunity to do things like this anymore.  We had the plan of an early, quick dinner, then straight to the concert.  Well, our “early dinner” at Chili’s (which turned into a two-hour marathon because of a Microsoft meltdown) was almost a dine-and-dash situation because we were so over it—except the bill was mysteriously covered by my husband.  You seriously can't dine and dash when you husband so kindly paid for your meal, while completely unaware that this was the slowest service on the planet.  

After our gourmet meal of soup and fajitas, we strutted our way to a “club” that was new to us. Our first clue that this might not be the night of our lives. The club was located in what could only be described as a time capsule of a strip mall. It looked like it had peaked in 1998 and was now just limping along.

As we waited in line, surrounded by a sea of “younger folk” who probably didn’t know what a CD was, I turned to Ashley and said, “This place smells like 2007 and regret.” And boy, was I right. Back in the day, we would have thought nothing of it, but now we’re moms with seven kids between us, husbands at home holding down the fort, and a sense that we might need a shower with industrial-strength soap after this night. But we were committed, and committed people don’t back out.

When nature called, Ashley and I braved the bathroom, which was marked with white duct tape and had no door—just a gaping hole welcoming us with open arms. I couldn’t help but say bluntly, “This definitely reeks of syphilis.” The other women in there laughed nervously in agreement. We made sure to touch nothing to avoid any unplanned STD tests (I joke, but seriously).

Things led on through the night, with the first band coming on and me questioning whether they looked like this in 2007.  To my shock, it was not BLG, but their opening act.  Go figure.  Once they came out, they too looked and likely smelled like 2007 and regret, but dang did they take us back to those days of the windows down, cruising the streets….until….the Microsoft crash of 2024.  When I say absolutely everything stopped working in this “shit-hole” as the lead singer stated, I LITERALLY mean it.  The entire system required a full reboot and what was supposed to take 5 minutes took nearly half an hour.  Now, there were some perks…we got an impromptu acoustic set, probably 1 too many inhales of the mary jane (other people’s not ours because we are both too much of a goody good for smokin the weed), and a notice that one of our kids got into some minor trouble (nothing major, but if this isn’t the definition of a mom’s night out, I DO NOT KNOW WHAT IS).  AM I RIGHT?

Ultimately, we ended up staying out way too late, laughing oh so much, and planning for our next big adventure.  We recognize our wild, carefree days of bar-hopping and sleeping in until noon are behind us, and it probably took us a week to recover from our late-night BLG shenanigans, but boy was it fun to remember that we are not JUST MOMS.  We are fun, women who need to take the time out to enjoy ourselves and our lives outside of being employees, moms and even wives. 

We know today’s life of fun includes kids’ ball games, birthday parties, and Saturday night wine with a bedtime well before midnight. However, there is an appreciation for the time we had in the past to be “wild and crazy” and recognize that it has led us to where we are now.  So, this week, take a moment to reconnect with old friends who’ve seen you through your highs and lows. And remember, you’re not the same person you were in 2008 who couldn’t smell regret in a run-down club. It’s all about perspective. 😉

Mariah