Sometimes we get inspired. Today is not one of those days.
I was cleaning out my "junk" drawer, the one that holds every card I've received in the past three years, photos that didn't make it into the scrapbook, pictures that migrate from my mom's house to mine and plenty of other random junk. I thought I'd share some. There's no rhyme or reason.
You've been warned.
My pretty, pretty wrecked Honda - 1999
I got in a car accident in February 1999, about four months after I bought my car. There was a six car pileup on the loop and I was the lucky sixth car. I guess it sort of was lucky because only the front of my car was damaged, not both ends.
Here's what pisses me off: one of the guys was arrested for not having a license, and the driver of the first car, the one who actually caused the accident, was stoned. But since it was a pileup where people rear-ended each other we ALL got ticketed for "failure to keep a safe distance." On the other side, however, my dad told me that in Texas the only person to get ticketed in an accident like that is the last car, because they can't determine where the chain started and they figure you're at fault either way, so you get all the blame. That would've sucked.
But y'all, there was no way I could've avoided it, and I'm not Jane Tailgates All the Time, either. It was rush-hour blah blah blah.
I'll tell you what, though. I'll never switch from State Farm Insurance. They were amazing.
Self-portrait, Fall 1992
I went through this stage where I took a self-portrait of myself on every roll of film. I have dozens of them, but I think this is the only one I ever liked. I always tried to look pouty, which I thought translated to "sexy." I thought I'd accomplished it in this one, when really though, I just look pissed off. (And lopsided. What's up with that? I'm all Shannen Doherty lookin'.)
Oh, and that lipstick? Not my lipstick of choice. This was a Football Friday, and I'm wearing my Color Guard "Friday shirt," and the make-up was part of the look. (At my high school every org involved in the game wore their uniform, or a representation there of. Like the players wore their jerseys, the drill team wore special outfits, and we had (horrid, horrid) outfits as well. [Although that year was by far the best. One year we had bubble gum pink tees and matching shorts with our names puffy painted on the sleeves.] Our director had a real love affair with the Bedazzler.)
My dad and me - 1996
I've mentioned here before that my dad is a private pilot. Well, there's his plane. It's rarely as exciting as people seem to think when they find out my dad has a plane. It's like a Pinto in there. I'm thinking this was the spring/summer of '96 and he's picking me up to take me back to Texas. But he's wearing a sweater. Then again, I'm wearing shorts, so who knows. Check out my huge t-shirt. Nice. (Oh how I wish I could tell you my legs still looked like that. Sob.)
My Barbies. I have no idea what year. Does it matter? I took pictures of my Barbies.
As soon as you stop laughing, I'll begin. Are we ready? Okay. I was a huge Barbie freak. Not counting the pseudo-Skipper (I think she was Skipper friend) and all the Heart Family babies, there are 18 in that photo alone. I played with them well into junior high, probably even into high school, but I'm not positive about that. I think I finally ziploced them when I was around 14. (I put them all in the original outfits and put them in individual baggies. I know I'm a bit deluded about ever making money off them, but at the least, my daughter will have a pretty good set to start out with.)
But see, I didn't just "play" with them. No, no. I had full out dramas of daytime t.v. proportions going on. Sometimes storylines would go on for months. My friend Julie and I were the directors, producers, writers, everything.
The families above, we played with for about a year. A year, people. Same storyline, names, couples etc.
This picture was taken right after the couples circled in pink were married. (We had a full-out wedding extravaganza: gowns, tuxes, photos, everything.) My bride and groom are on the left, Julie's on the right. The men circled in blue were our patriarchs, the yellow circled Barbies were our matriarchs. My family? The Smiths. Hers? The Cunninghams. She found the name in the phone book, and I think for a long time she secretly wanted to marry some guy named Cunningham.
Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Cunningham are sisters. All the other Barbies are either Cunninghams or Smiths. But we did keep other dolls on the sides for love interests for the "kids." We had to write down all their names (first, middle, last), and birthdates in a notebook so we could keep it all straight.
I had these great bookcases and we pulled all the books out and made apartments for the newlyweds. The story then started to shift around them and the Smiths/Cunninghams sort of fell wayside.
The Barbies circled in purple are the same doll - Rocker Barbie. (You know, the one that came with a tape of her band?) One was Julie's, and one was mine. When I was playing alone, they were always twins. (They had a very successful Playboy spread.) So it always sort of annoyed me when we'd pretend they were just cousins, because they're the same doll! They're so clearly twins.
When Julie got married about two years ago, I slipped a wedding photo of her couple into the prints I sent her of her own wedding.
See, how cool is that?
I could go on and on about my Barbie experience and how it was nothing but positive, but I think I'll save it for another day.
One when you aren't laughing so hard.
The notify preferred My Little Pony.
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