The other night as I was poring over my old journals looking for submissions to Sarah’s Cringe book, I discovered a pile of photos I haven’t seen in over a decade, and I know I’ve expressed this before, but JESUS, if they had just checked underneath my hair they might have found Jimmy Hoffa.
Both of these shots were taken in 1991, I believe, and in the second shot I’m wearing the most expensive dress I had owned in my life at that time, it must have cost 30 whole dollars. We got it at the mall, the one with the Dillards, and I was a little embarrassed because I was showing more skin than is considered modest. You could see my bare shoulders through all that sexy black lace. God could see my bare shoulders. And if you are just giving away your bare shoulders like that you might as well go ahead and get checked for The Gonorrhea is all I’m saying.
Speaking of hair.
Looks as if a large hedgehog crawled on top of my head and died. Sixth grade was a rough year. I can’t imagine why.
In seventh grade, however, I discovered lip gloss which, sadly, was unable to divert attention away from the towering stack of bangs that threatened to scrape the ceiling. Or maybe interfere with local weather patterns.
I remember thinking that those bangs weren’t nearly high enough and would have liked very much if they had prevented me from walking comfortably through a doorway. That would have been hot.
Also, did you know that leeches can double as eyebrows?
