Today, a 23-year-old told me that my new haircut makes me look 30. Then he guessed my actual age at 25. Tell me, what kind of devil tells a person she looks 30 when he knows she's still in her twenties? He also complained that he had to drive his wife's white Jetta today, which apparently is such a girly car that driving it for a single day just positively made his penis shrivel up and die. I threw him a pity party.
So, in honor of how I look 30 now, I give you this little piece of childish happiness. This is my favorite of the old pictures I scanned tonight. It's me and my best friend Elizabeth Winkler and we're like eight and we're totally on our way to Girl Scout Camp. The picture quality is awful, but don't I just look serenely happy? Do you peep the incipient bunny ears? When I die I hope the only part of my life I see flashing before my eyes is the exact moment this picture was taken.
Sigh.
posted by thedrymock @ 12:44 AM
5 comments
5 Comments:
aaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwr...
Dunno, that looks like preternatural cunning to me, like she was born with her eyes on the jugular. Admittedly, in a cute way.
Come to think of it, this is the same friend who later scratched my hand with her little claw and left me with a permanent scar. Maybe she is plotting something here.
Oh Pie, I was talking about you.
You used the third person there, bud. It confused me.
I was a very sweet child, although I did say a lot of naughty words.
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