>Hurray! After a weekend of sweat, swearing, and the Giants' victory, Husband got the laptop up and running again. Without further ado, I bring you my eighth grade school portraits. {Trumpet call}

I got contacts that year, so sadly, there are no hilariously huge glasses to mock.

From left to right:

The first picture is the regular school day picture that appeared in the yearbook. I think my mom still wears the shirt that I donned that day. It's amazing how much hair I had when I was younger. I don't know what's with my nose in this, but I look like W.C. Fields. Strange.

For graduation, the photographer came back at some point during the year to take "special" pictures. For the life of me, I cannot understand what I was thinking, but at the time, I thought this dark and creepy backdrop rocked. It's oddly pretentious, and also like something out of the murder mystery movie and board game Clue. However, I do understand the sweater I wore. It was my favorite at the time and I sort of miss it to this day, even if I might not wear a collared shirt under it these days. (I'm all about turtlenecks under sweaters now.) The thin bracelet I'm wearing was cool, too. It had a little whistle charm that really worked. I think I got it at The Limited. The awkward look on my face says it all.

The last picture is of me in my graduation robe. Weirdly, we never took official pictures with the cap on. Or maybe I just never did because my hair was so fucking huge the cap couldn't fit on it. Damn, that is just an overwhelming amount of hair. I swear it is all natural. I basically washed it, dried it with the hair blower, and brushed it a bit. FOOF! Out it went. I am almost certain that the necklace I'm wearing is a nameplate. Long before Carrie Bradshaw came around and made nameplates cool, there I was wearing and extremely cheap one that I bought at some five and dime in Golf Mill Mall in Niles, IL. I had a series of them, actually, as they kept snapping in the middle between the "a" and first "n." However, it was pretty rare to find things (barrettes, necklaces, etc.) with my name on it, so I inevitably dropped the six or so bucks for a shiny new replacement. Not that anyone ever saw anything, as my ginormous hair was so distracting.

And there you have my youth to early teen years. (Puberty really screwed me good, I tell you.) Incidentally, except for the five years after my wedding to when I cut all my hair off and went short, I have always worn my bangs parted on the right and leaning left. Bangs are like politics that way.