A Day in the Life of Poor Bristol

Already, you and your siblings have been named after an Alaskan bay, track and field, a bush plane, favorite fishing spots and a small Alaskan community- let’s just start with that. It’s not like you got stuck with the family name begrudgingly handed down through the generations; you are named after your parent’s interests. It would be like naming my kid Cookie or Late Night TV or Belize. I know I am being a little hypocritical here considering 2 of my immediate family members are Buffingtons- but they’re middle names, and they were family hand-me-downs NOT (as the name might suggest) tributes to the 1983 J. Crew argyle sweatervest print or something.

So, on top of your name and normal 17-year-old issues, like a zit before homecoming or who your lab partner is this semester or why someone hacked into your MySpace page and started posting spam, you wake up one day and—Oh snap! The whole WORLD knows you’re pregnant!

I imagine her nannies and parents and siblings were running around saying things like, “Honey, nobody even watches the Today Show (quick, somebody get rid of the papers and cut the cable line)” or “Now Bris, you’ll worry less about what others think of you when you realize they rarely do,”—which may have held until she logged into her email account and found, “Bristol, 17, knocked up” plastered all over the Yahoo log-in page.

It would be like that worst possible nightmare you always wake up from, except, well, you don’t actually get to wake up.

Instead, you step off the bus, and not only do they get a horrible shot on the one day you wore your oversized OSU sweatshirt and didn’t fix your bus-head ponytail, but your boyfriend is no doubt standing there with his hand on his hip like, You just had to go and tell the whole world, didn’t you? And that’s the guy you have to marry. Well. At least he’s named after a respectable jean company.

Poor Bristol. Bay of Majesty.

*Disclaimer: This is not reflective of my like or dislike of any political party, though it should be noted that I fully support partying of any kind, in general.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s