Blast from the Past: Strike a Pose

"Blast from the Past" is where I share photos from my past that hopefully explain some of my odd behaviors.  Or at least illustrate how far I've come in my 30 years.


Always the performer, one can't just stand there for a picture.  One must... STRIKE A POSE!  I still catch myself doing this today, and most of the time it just comes out half-awkward.  But when one fully commits to a pose, it comes out glorious!  Perhaps gloriously goofy, but glorious is still there.  Below, four fully committed poses:

Brother Mine, Moi, and Mom at the start of my "double thumbs up" phase.  At least I come by my posing honestly.

Junior Prom.  Nothing like wearing gloves and a top hat to make you COMMIT to the pose.

The sneak attack, or self-photobomb.  No one IN the photo needs to know how committed you are... 

Or you can commit so much that everyone agrees.... she should be committed...

No drugs or alcohol were harmed in the making of this photo.

Blast from the Past: Blond Ambition

"Blast from the Past" is where I share photos from my past that hopefully explain some of my odd behaviors.  Or at least illustrate how far I've come in my 30 years.

Mr. Fixit's son's wedding.  

I've been a brunette most of my life, but like all women I enjoy a change and I figure, what's easier to change then your hair?  You can perm it, color it, cut it, and if it sucks it'll grow out.  So, the summer after my freshman year in college I thought I would go SHORT and BLONDE.  I had images of chic pixie-like models in my head with wicked cheek bones and a punky fairy look.  As you can see, I am not quite chic, pixie like, or blessed with wicked cheek bones.  This was about as feminine as I could get it to look.  It did look pretty punk once I started getting roots.  But overall I knew this look would not work for me when I only got hit on by girls that summer.  Often very cute girls, but still.... not my team.

Smarty, me, and Face as bridesmaids. This is the reception. We all hated the dress. Sorry, C, we still love you.

Since I rarely learn from my mistakes, I decided to go blond again.  This time I was living in CT with my cousins and I *knew* it would be different!  I would look glamorous!  And tan, yeah, maybe that!  Why?  Because my hair was *long*.  Derp.  wrong answer.  I didn't look hideous, but I did look a bit like a tragic romance novel heroin suffering from consumption.

Dear future self: NEVER FORGET THIS! YOU ARE NOT A BLOND!

Blast from the Past: Drinking Problem?

"Blast from the Past" is where I share photos from my past that hopefully explain some of my odd behaviors.  Or at least illustrate how far I've come in my 30 years.

Damn my hair is long...  

This is me around 10 years old on the co-ed rec soccer team in NJ where I grew up.  See the boy in the picture?  He's drinking out of a sports water bottle.  What am I drinking out of?  A Rubber-maid cocktail shaker with a beer coozy.  Thanks, parents.  No, that's not an Aubin Margarita in there, though the nasty "Citrus Gatorade" flavor (which they've since taken off the market) is about the same color.

All parental fails aside, this was actually a really great vessel for sports.  The top came off so I could put plenty of ice cubes in, the spout was wide enough to get big gulps without dribbling all over the place, and it had a cover that was easy to open and close.  It probably helped that I didn't recognize this as an cocktail shaker until about 7 years later.