SAY CHEESE!

Dedicated to all of you who had your eyes closed in your yearbook picture.

As if prepubesent life and then the dramatic change all to quickly (even if it seems to take forever) to an adolesence isn't embarassing enough it has to be documented every year. Yes, I am talking about picture day. Why is it that the school insists upon putting our faces on the the matte- glossy pages of the $35 diary of shame that they like to call a "yearbook." It really is sad that when we look back on these pages we can look at our hairstyle (was it nessisary for me to have those winnie cooper bangs) or our teeth, (pre-braces of course.) It is truly sad that we can look back at the pictures and remember the squeaking of our voices, the first blemishes (which of course popped up on picture day right on our forehead), the first time aunt flo came to visit, our first heartbreak (he looks goofy too, at least), and the never forgotten style of the times. Is that a pants/jumper im wearing? And in purple to boot? Are those sam and libbys? I bet they are worth something now. And no, girls I haven't forgotten about the side ponytail that our moms thought was so "adorable." Not adorable now. I am embarrased that these are the things that we have to look back on when someone says she went to your elementary school. Do you remember her? We go to our trusty yearbooks and go back and tell them, oh yes, I remember her, she had great style.