In chronological order.
I could have used an actual scanner for these, but that would have required more work than I was willing to put into this post. What you see is what you get, my darlings. Let’s get started.
Contrary to what you might be thinking, I am not picking my nose in this picture. In fact, I’m doing my very best Baby Spice impression, which took months to perfect. I took it very seriously, and I would sometimes even pair it with my mock platform shoes. You think I’m kidding, but I’m totally serious. Exhibit A:
If I have to tell you which one Baby Spice is, we can no longer be friends. I’m sorry. The context clues should do the trick for you, though. The Spice Girls taught me Girl Power. Deal with it.
The very first year that The Millennium Force roller coaster came to Cedar Point, I was ten and in desperate need to ride it. This was a life or death situation. My friend, Jackie, thought that I was an absolute lunatic for wanting to put my life at risk for a two minute thrill, but I was a fearless ten-year-old, and I didn’t care! The best part is that I have proof and will for the rest of my life. Best two minutes I ever spent.
This one is actually non-embarassing, compared to some of the other gems I’ve included. This girl was the very first true love of my life, and Baby Holden soon followed. I used to dream about the day that she turned ten (the age that I was, when she was born), and I wondered who I was going to be. Twenty-years-old seemed so far away, at that time. Now we’re working toward twenty-three and thirteen. This is how we’ve turned out, so far:
Ya know that friend that I mentioned earlier, named Jackie? This same friend and I liked to pass the time by taking pictures of ourselves, when we were kids. Knowing this, it shouldn’t have been much of a surprise that I would grow up to be a narcissistic blogger with an entire website about my thoughts. That, however, is beside the point, and our conceitedness brought us a lot of photos that will embarrass us for the rest of our lives. Unless you are like me. Then you have no shame. Behold those washed out jeans. They had glitter all over them, too. That’s right.
I wanted to be a princess so badly. You guys don’t even know. This was serious stuff, and I even adopted the nickname “Princess” from all of my friends, and Jackie was “Angel”. Duh. I had necklaces, pillows, shirts, you name it, and it all said ‘princess’. When I found this costume at Spencer’s, I absolutely died for it. To a fifth grader, this princess costume truly looked like the real deal. I loved it so much that I wore it two years in a row. The above photo was my very last trick-or-treat ever. For a Halloween freak like me, you can imagine how heartbreaking this was.
So, then things started to get a little weird. Check out those walls. Pink, The Osbournes, and a tiny sprinkle of class with Vivien Leigh. My inner old Hollywood glam loving self was in there, somewhere. She was just on vacation the moment that I decided to be a rebel, with my platform, lace-up shoes. I got down with my bad self.
And then I met Buzz Lightyear. Now, let’s get real - this was awesome. Disney World is awesome in general, but you have to remember that I was an angst-ridden teen, and not much was making me smile that day, if I do recall. Buzz did the trick. Thanks, Disney! You rule.
It’s true. For a very long time. In fact, I was at the grocery store once with Mom, and a little girl (I kid you not) mistook me for Avril. This sent me soaring, kids. For real. That little girl even had me kind of convinced that I was Miss Lavigne. Why ya gotta go and make things so complicated, girl?
It just keeps getting better. I had to include this for the sheer loveliness of it. Can you see my tonsils?
And proof that I made it out of adolescence in one piece:
Every once in awhile, that big box of old photos, under my bed, calls my name, and I simply have to answer. I dug through my old Photobucket account, too, and if some of the people in those photos wouldn’t shoot me for resurfacing such embarrassing things, I would totally post those, too. I’m being a good girl, though, and keeping all those joyful, mortifying memories to myself.
Now it’s time for this lady to call it quits for the night.