February 7, 2007

It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to

Today is the third anniversary of my 29th birthday. I decided at age 29, I was done with this whole highly over-rated aging thing. When I asked Big I if she knew how old I was going to be, she said 60. And here I thought my wrinkle cream was actually working.

Since turning "29", I’ve discovered a couple things about birthdays. Up until you turn 21, birthdays are pretty cool. Then, it seems that the big deal that used to be your birthday becomes just another day on the calendar filled with bills, chores, and other nonsense. People don’t make a big deal about your birthday anymore until you’re like 80 and have beat the average person’s life span. Then, it’s time for surprise parties and celebrations again.

I thought I would celebrate my birthday by including some pictures for your enjoyment and laughter (You don’t get through the 80’s as a kid without some serious fashion no-no’s). Plus, 9 out of 10 blog readers agree that pictures keep you coming back for more. So, here are some of the highlights from my "29" years of this Earth.

You might recognize these baby eyes in my munchkins? I’ve never been accused of having small eyes.

Here I am at age three, where my dream of being a pro-hockey player (or marrying one) began.

Here I am at age five, on "the good ship lollipop," sporting the ever popular Dorthy Hamill bowl cut.

Second grade, or the year of Mom cutting my bangs before school pictures.

The rest of elementary school is a mixture of more bad hair: boy cuts, first perms. . . and here is the spiked hair perm. What the hell was I thinking when I requested that style?

This is 9th grade when I got to meet my FAVORITE hockey player in the ENTIRE WORLD, Rick Tocchet. Notice the deer in the headlights look. I was shaking like a leaf when I met him. I realized that his head was like twice the size of mine and that I probably didn’t want to be birthing any hockey player kids (Instead I married a valedictorian with a big head anyway).

10th grade brought a longer and bigger hairstyle. It was the age of the spiral perm. My bangs never cooperated and besides an occasional zit, my bangs were my biggest teenage "issue."

Here I am with my best guy friend (who happens to be the designer for the banner on this site). The hair only gets bigger for a while. . .

See what I mean. This is my freshman year in college and I’m still loving the big hair.

Just one of many "ripped the jerk out of the picture" pictures. This is actually the last one, and you’ll see why in a few seconds. . .

Here’s my first car, after I bought a custom leather "bra" for the front of it to make it look "cool." I also had my best guy friend install a booming system that would make LL proud. In the end, I had to come to grips with the fact that it was still a Geo Metro with no AC. (My sister took over this car when I went back to college, put Animals Rights stickers all over it, and added Christmas lights to the back seat. I kid you not.)

Edited to add: Apparently my sister doesn’t recall the stickers. My Dad taught us to NEVER put any stickers on our cars, but I swear she taped them to the inside of the windows or something. I distinctly remember stickers. She also reminded me that there was an animated Santa standing on my booming system speakers in the back. Gotta love little sisters when they take over your car.)

Here’s a picture from the early days with Mr. BBM. Apparently I thought this pose was an appropriate enough one to let my Mom photograph us. Um, no, so NOT happening with MY GIRLS EVER EVER NEVER.