When the thermometer hit $10,000, the first phone call I took was from my mother who said, AND I QUOTE, “I can’t believe you did it. I’m so proud of you. You need to post that picture so get over here and look at these dorky pictures I found.”
So I stalled a bit and she called again.
“Are you on your way?! I found some really, really dorky pictures! Glasses and everything.”
“I’m glad you’re so enjoying this. I’ll be there in 15 minutes and I ONLY NEED THE NASA PICTURE.”
So I arrived at my mother’s house and she has spread out on her kitchen table every dorky picture she could find. And she was positively giddy, all, “I’m so glad I took the time last year to sort every picture I have of the five of you! Look at you here. HAHAH! Look at your glasses! Look at your hair! Look at your shoes! HAHAH!”
She’s a gem.
So, first, the story. Most of my childhood, all of my teen years, and probably the first year of college, I was space-obsessed. I wanted to be an astronaut more than anything and I honestly don’t know why. Maybe that Space Camp movie? My bedroom was ridiculous, basically wallpapered in posters of space shuttles and F-15s and F-16s and it was filled with model rockets and model space shuttles. I read books on space and remember touring space museums in Florida I think it was. So when it came time to get my senior picture done, the photographer really loved the NASA idea and well, as you’ll see, he really took over the control panel and hit the “Launch” button six times with a sledgehammer.
Burghers, I give you The Princess of Fug and the Duchess of Gross. Me at 17.
I’m going to give you a moment to regain control of your bodily functions.
Now, let me save you the effort.
First, please notice my sexy mustache. Hot. The first week I was in college, my sister and her friend strapped me to a chair all, “This won’t do,” and proceeded to deal with not only THAT but also my rockin’ Ken Rice eyebrows. Those are hot too.
Please notice my sweet fake gold earrings, link bracelet, and “pearl HAHAH” bracelet and also a band on my wedding finger. WTF? That’s not jewelry overload at all. I should have worn a tiara to bring the eyes up and away from all the mismatched jewelry.
Please notice that I have buttoned that shoulder-padded shirt so damn high you can’t even see my throat. That’s the minister’s daughter in me right there. You ain’t ready for this jelly.
Finally, the hair. THE HAIR! It’s not a mullet because it is pinned back, but it SURE LOOKS LIKE A MULLET.
Also, if you’re wondering what I’m scribbling on that there very important and official-looking NASA legal pad, it is probably, “I’M GOING TO REALLY REGRET THIS SOMEDAY.”
And I do.
Except that it’s for sick kids, and that makes it all okay.
You can still donate.