(Or, how bad hair shapes us through the ages)
As I was archiving old photos today on my computer I realize I have a few things to say about some photos. I didn't start out with any particular theme when starting this blog, but it kind of turned into a big hair theme. You'll see what I mean....
Topolobampo, Mexico, circa 1977 What makes me laugh about this picture is that my sister Patty is filthy with sand and I am all clean (that's me out of focus in the front). Nothing has changed. I still hate to get dirty. Even now, if my kitchen floor is dirty I will wear socks or slippers in the kitchen to avoid having my feet feel all gritty. Blech! I must have some sensory issues because I still can't touch a fuzzy peach without getting the heebee-jeebees.
Heart Bar Campground, San Bernardino, California When I see this photo I can't help laughing at how HORRIBLE all my siblings look, me included of course. Our hair is uncombed and look at that pink tassled jumpsuit Carolyn is wearing! (I am second from the left.) What my siblings and I all remember from this picture is that Patty is the only one wearing flip-flops. (We used to call them thongs but that word now means something else in clothing attire.) She had forgotten her sneakers on this camping trip and our parents were furious--"How could you forget to pack SHOES!" Poor Patty, she had to wear thongs the whole trip.
Me, circa 1984. Oh the embarrasment of this picture. Look at my stick-like legs! I remember during junior high I wore some white ribbed leggings to school and the most popular boy in school looked at me and said, "Bock Bock", as in a chicken! I was horrified. Having chicken legs as a young woman is worse than having a second head. This picture is proof.
This picture of my mom with her sisters (she's on the left) proves that my big hair is not my fault. It is in my genes. Somehow, though, my mother looks beautfiul with her big hair.
Me, 1990, in the middle of nowhere in Oregon. No wonder I had no boyfriends in high school? Look how big my hair is? You could surf on my bangs! And the over sized shirt in neon colors? And oh yes, I am wearing high-top sneakers with scrunched socks. There are those chicken legs again. Oh the inhumanity of it all!
July 22, 1980, Mark's first birthday, Chino, California This is how 90% of our birthdays were spent as kids. The birthday kid with the cake and the other 4 looking on with drool. And we are all toasty brown because it's summer. Notice that Mike is wearing a Pepsi shirt tank top, Mark is wearing a Los Angeles Dodgers uniform, and Patty has on her adorable glasses!
My senior picture, October 1991. Again with the big hair, giant silver hoop earings, etc. I made that oversized purple blouse. Once again, I wonder why I had no boys EVER interested in me.
Paul, as a missionary, 1991 Belgium. While I was having a miserable time as a senior in high school, Paul was a missionary in Belgium. So eventually I did get the cute boy after all. I must admit--I had grown out the claw bangs by the time we met. See? It was the bangs holding me back all those years. In my dry spell of the dating years I used to say, "If good things come to those who wait, then great things come to those who wait longer." I guess I am calling you great Paul. :)