When I was last at my parent’s house I had to save boxes of photos from the 150° garage. Here are a few of my favorites from when I was younger. Just to give you a little taste into the teen angst of my life.
That is my most favorite teacher EVAH. Mr. Cochran, he was truly our Greatest American Hero (doesn’t he look like him). We affectionately called his hair Spiro Giro and giggled until we cried over his mythical girlfriend named Bloatha Farkwad that he always used as the subject of his examples in class. The picture is from 6th grade but Mr. Terry Cochran loved our class so much that he followed us to Jr. High two years later.
Ahhhhh, PROM! Don’t we look so young and cunning? I was SIXTEEN!! And that is my natural hair color. Wow. Hello. I have my hair pulled back in the pic and I just pray it was in a nice sparkly faux diamond clip and not my ever-so-faithful yellow banana clip I wore on a regular basis.
Crimp me happy! I still have my pink hair crimper. Unbelievably it still works after how often I used it (and would leave it plugged in when I left for school in the mornings). My nickname in high school was Pebbles cuz I wore it crimped with the sides pulled up to make a small ponytail at the top of my head. Love that thing. Is crimping back in style? I think I will start it back up.
Do ya like the van? Oooooh look, a pickup truck in someone’s driveway. How surprising for Oklahoma.
Spring Break 1989! NO SLEEP TIL WINTER PARK!! First time to ever ski, and I think I handled it pretty well. Except I refused to take off my sunglasses ever because I wanted to see how much of a ski tan I could get. When I returned back to school the next week, a guy asked me ” Did you EVER take off your sunglasses?” NOPE. Love that our hair is still so perfectly styled for skiing.
My first sorority/fraternity function! Since we were underage, we couldn’t drink at the parties. Well…so Panhellenic said. That was the beginning of my college life at OSU. Living in the haunted dorm (NOT kidding), Zeta Tau Alpha and endless nights at Tumbleweeds boot-scooting dance floor. Do I miss those days?
Abso-fucking-lutely.
GOING NINETY MILES 