So I've messed around the last few days, revamping the blog look and reading more random strangers news and trying to think of something to write. Our camera quit working awhile back and I've been unable to take any bizarre pictures to post. I'm not in the mood to make a decision about which camera to buy that will be outdated and 100 dollars cheaper next month, so I'm camera-less for the moment.
BUT, If I had a camera, I could show you:
--The great tree massacre/travesty that has been committed around our fair city in the name of trimming them from highline wires. Yes. They need trimmed, but do they need to be rendered hideous and ugly? Where's the aesthetics?
--The kennel that Daisy, world's most spoiled dog, is now in because she has persisted on pooping and wetting on the carpet in the last week. She was hyperventilating last night from being in there and Les, the spoiler of the dog, actually said he just was wishing she would die of a heart attack and get it over with. 'Course this was at 11:30 and he was a wee bit tired...
But since I don't have a camera, so I will share this blast from my ugly past with you:
I used to be such a dork. Yes, even more than I am now. I didn't want to look dorky in a picture so I put on my belligerent and whiny-teenagerish look instead and ended up looking even worse!
Once upon a time, in 1976 as a matter of fact, the year the United States celebrated it's bi-centennial, my cousin Diane and I went to visit our grandparents. I'm sure we went swimming and went to the Dairy Kreme and walked to the park.
And my grandma wanted pictures. And for some reason she wanted pictures in a hat.
A large hat.
A sombrero type hat. Without the cute embroidery.
And surprisingly enough, Diane and I were reluctant to wear it. In my amazingly mature 12 year old mind, I just knew that if I put that hat on my head, that it would be a terrible picture and I would be embarrassed in later years that I had been pressured into wearing the hat. And someone might see the picture. Like my future husband who thought I had looked effortlessly gorgeous (as I was sure I eventually would, cause really, I couldn't get much worse) all my life!
So here's a picture of us compromising by holding the hat. I do not look more grown up, or sophisticated in those giant tinted glasses with my initial and a butterfly on them than if I were wearing the hat.
Now somewhere, around this house, I actually do have a picture of me actually wearing the hat, looking truly ugly and squinty eyed. It is in the photo album where I also have a picture my mom took to enter into the 'Meet Shawn Cassidy' (or was it Donny Osmond?) contest where I was supposed to smile winningly and charmingly. I looked for it. I really did! Maybe you will be lucky and I will find them and post them later! Or not!
Because in spite of the fact that I didn't want the world to ever see these horrible pictures of my twelve-year-old self again, I am now, at my mature age, willing to post them on my widely read blog (insert eye roll here) for the whole world to see!
Because I've learned something that my dorky younger self did not know.
My grandma evidently knew this.
My daughter knows it!
If you just put the hat on, for heavens sakes, and have fun with it, it doesn't matter how you look!
I'm so glad I never have to be twelve (or 15 or 17 or even 20) again!
But if I could just have that twenty year old body back.........
Many stories herein are subject to the faulty, and sometimes creative, memory of the blog owner and should not be taken as factual, although the names and events are real! Kind of.