Totally Excellent! Part Deux

Continuing with the theme, let's peruse the awesomeness here. Now, duh! Feather boa...always superfine. But take a look at the photo on the left. I'm actually flaring my nostrils. I learned that these are actually two different shoots. The cowl neck sweater series is when I was 15. Feather boa is obviously Senior pictures. Here's another:

You'll notice with age came wisdom and a lot less eye make-up. But check my brows, man. Where was Tiffany, the Vietnamese waxer when I needed her!?! If you're patient, watch carefully. They should turn into butterflies after their final transformation.

Totally Excellent!

Let me preface this by saying I just learned to use my scanner and my Photoshop skills suck eggs. But, I can't go another day without sharing these super awesome, yet random photos. Check out the hair, people.


This is one of my senior pictures. One truly cannot comprehend the level of concentration and determination it takes to reach this level of bodaciousness unless you were a teenage girl in the mid-80's. My hair rolling skills were rivaled only by my sister who, in our sheer industriousness, helped me apply a thick, tacky layer of hairspray on the door behind us as we meticulously secured each curl of the masterpiece that was our hair.
Like, scope my trippendicular perm!
And this is a family photo from 1987. Dude, even Larry had big hair. No, he wasn't a preacher.

And this is my sister and her husband ca. 1989. Both had big hair and Steve is sporting the righteous acid wash jeans. Awesomeness!

I'm not kidding when I say it took me somewhere around two hours to get my Snausage curls that "Sebastian Hair Spray" perfect. I once bragged to my bff Christy that I used five different colors from my Ultima II eye make-up palate.

ARRRRGH! This is my mom being groped by some creepy pirate. She knows how to party, me maties!

And this is my papa downing a brewski while my sweet grandmother holds a wiener. Out of respect, I'm gonna leave it at that, but it's killing me!

I'll post more as I uncover the very roots that keep me in counseling.

Don't try this at home, folks!

It all started innocently enough. I've had a lingering back ache for a few weeks and thought a nice bubble bath might help. I don't use the jets in the tub normally because I kinda forget they're there. I was deprived as a child. We didn't have jets. We had a hot tub that we crammed with 47 kids from my youth group in 1983, but no jets in the tub. That was for rich people like Krystle Carrington and Morgan Fairchild.

Soooo...I thought the jets might soothe my aching lumbar region. And ya gotta have bubbles. duh. It started like this:


It's foamy...spumescent, if you will. Than I turned on the jets.

OK. Don't panic.

Um. OK. Panic.

I did get in. I did get bubbles up my nose. But it was worth it. It reminded me of the Brady Bunch episode when the washer overflowed. Remember? That was good TV. So was Knots Landing. I spent the better part of the 80's trying to do my eye shadow like Donna Mills.