Keep the 'narcissist' comments to yourselves

Ready for my close-up. . .

7 December 2000

Home sick today. Not much to say. And I felt like playing with my scanner, so here you go. (Oh, and I'd just like to say I scanned these first few in a long time ago, when I first got the thing, which is why they're not the great quality you've come to expect from me. Mkay?)

Photo Phest 2000, jags.

Right: Look how freakin' cute I was. I'm standing on the bench that sat outside our back door in Texas circa 1978. See, the wearing red thing started early.

Below: Sev's alert! One of my favorite family photos of all time, and I'm not even in it. How do you like them apples?

Above: I'm brand new. And lookin' pretty sassy if I do say so myself.

Left: My dad has his pilot's license; I don't think I even flew commercial until I was around 10. This was actually like our Christmas card in 1979. Remember those things? This plane was a rental, and when he finally bought the "Falcon" in 1981 I thought they'd just moved the wings. I was 5, give me a break.

Left: My PaPa and me. I think these were both the same summer, I think, '79. The far left is at Hueston Woods and left is the porch swing on the house my mom grew up in. He was 73 when I was born so I never knew him as anything but an old man. And even in these photos, at 76, he was so strong. I'll always remember him like this. Big hands, big heart, big stories. Wow do I miss him. (It's hard to read but my shirt says, 'You make my orange blossom.' Little randy for a three year old, don't you think?)

Left: Christmas 1981, probably? Check out my materialistic grin. Check out my cool Barbie RV. Check out my dad in the background playing Intellivision. That's right. Intellivision. Check out my James Avery dangly ring. Those Western Barbies were weird. They moved all funky. That Ken later lost a leg, so he was our 'special' Ken. Actually, and this is horrible, he was usually the rapist as none of the Barbies wanted anything to do with him. Stop looking at me like that!

Right: Softball photo, 7th grade. 1989. The Bluejays. See, you thought I was kidding with the hair. Look at my bangs! That's like the wall of Jericho my man. It would've taken God's army to make those things fall. And that perm. How sad. And could my shin be any longer? It's the same size as the bat! I really sucked at softball. Seriously. I think I hit the ball three times that season. Practice included.

Left: A Senior photo. Taken Fall 1993 - 17 years old. Okay, a couple things about this photo. A.) I thought I was a cow. Stupid girl. B.) My hair! My. Hair. It's so, so, hot-rollered. C.) Nice fake nails, Trash. Criminey. But nothing beats the huge gold-plated Express cross I'm wearing. Someone shoot me in this outfit.