[pictures: stumbling]

I haven’t quite figured out how to resize these, so bear with me. Obviously, some of these pictures are old, so they didn’t really scan that well. I’m not talented enough at photo editing to be able to get rid of all of the scratches and graininess. I ask your forgiveness.

Oh, and please, don’t laugh at the mullet.

Welcome to my complete lack of fashion sense. Rest assured I clean up much nicer now. This, obviously, was us at Homecoming in 1990. I had no idea what to wear, and had eschewed ever purchasing dress clothes because I hated formality. To a point, I still do, but I’ve learned to play the social game quite well, and know how to do things like, oh, coordinate.

The Prom that I didn’t want to go to. Good lord, I cannot believe my hair looked like that. Sweet Jesus. I knew that I was a late bloomer, and really didn’t start thinking of myself as attractive until my mid-20’s, but good lord, this is hideous. I hope you all appreciate how I’m swallowing my pride here.

By the time Homecoming rolled around in September 1990, Bobby and Nancy had broken up. She went with another friend of ours that we knew from online, named Rob (aka: Spuds). I always thought Laura looked beautiful in this picture.

Laura’s senior picture. The girls were in the Class of ’92, so this photo’s getting a bit ahead of itself, I suppose.

This is a picture of Andy and Christy from 1993, but they look essentially the same as they did in 1991 and I figured I’d include it because it was an ongoing joke that Andy would balance his drinks on his stomach.

I’m hot. I don’t know what the fuck I was doing here, but it gave me a good laugh. I was so gawky. Anyone reading this now better not think this is what I still look like. For one thing, I have a lot less hair…I think I sort of look like one of my mom’s friends in this photo, to be honest.

I wanted to share two pictures of what can only be termed as "Male Residence". One disclaimer: I am not a neat freak per se, but I definitely keep my shit picked up and try to keep things looking nice. A lived-in sort of nice. I grew up in an environment best described by this Ferris Bueller’s Day Off quote: "It’s like a museum. It’s very clean, it’s very cold, and you can’t touch anything." Andy, however, was a slob. An overpowering slob. I should have known this when I moved in with him, but eventually it just overwhelmed me and I completely gave up. Thus, the messiness of this apartment has nothing to do with me, and this was when it was on a GOOD day. I wanted to share this picture because it’s where I spent most of my time, reclining and either playing video games or typing letters to some people (only the good friends got the handwritten). If you look at the wall, you can see my collage of musical CD boxes (Top left: Guns ‘n Roses-Use Your Illusion, then Skid Row-Slave to the Grind and Guns ‘n Roses-Use Your Illusion 2. Middle: Metallica-Master of Puppets, an Iron Maiden poster, and something I can’t make out. Lower right hand corner is Slaughter, anyone remember them?) Man, nostalgia’s a bitch. I see my racquetball racquet hanging there, and my old black faded denim jacket that I just LOVED. And, haha, hightop shoes. I remember when I wore those. Also note the lamp by the fugly chair, with the shade permanently skewed from Andy reaching up to turn it on and off so much.

The second photo I threw in because I had to chuckle at the Samantha Fox poster and the horrible, horrible furniture. Almost all of those folders scattered around were because of our fantasy sports leagues.

That’s all the pictures for now. More as the timeline progresses.