In Which I Make a Confession Sure to Upset Social Conservatives

I found a bunch of pictures from when I was in high school, my junior year, I think, so I was done trying to starve myself to death or otherwise try in some wimpy manner to commit suicide, and I was not yet being full-scaled stalked.  But I was moping around the world convinced that I was fat, ugly, and unloveable.

If I had known then how hot I was, I would have given up on that whole “virgin until I’m married” nonsense at 16.  Look at those legs!  Look at those lips!  What a waste of a perfectly fun body!  Damn you, Dad, for befriending all my guy friends and making them unwilling to corrupt me.


Yeah, My Dad’s Cute, Too

My dad wants y’all to know that this photo below is the reason he’s retiring this year.  He’s been working since he was a year and a half old.


Here’s all five of the kids in my dad’s family–from oldest to youngest: My annoying dead Uncle B., My beloved dead Uncle B., my Aunt Julie (not her real name, but the name she’s going by now and hell, if she wants to make up her own pseudonym, more power to her), my dad, and my awesome, yet Republican, Uncle B.


And here’s my dad with my grandma A.  If this is the pool I think it is, I was probably just born.


In Which I Make a Startling Discovery About My Mom

It’s hard enough being the daughter of a gorgeous woman.  Here she is at her wedding, awkwardly putting on lipstick, because she never wears lipstick.


And here she is a little younger looking beautiful as all get out without even trying.


But, America, it’s worse than I thought.  My mom used to be some sort of queen.  Here she is with her royal entourage, presumably shortly before she left Paradise Island.


Oh, sure, we have photos of her grandma Teckla…


And her grandpa Herb with her dad (my grandpa) Bob…


…but I’m convinced that’s just an elaborate cover.

Another Trip Down Memory Lane

Here’s my great grandma Sadie with her chickens. This would be my dad’s mom’s mom.


And here’s my great grandpa, Harry, Sadie’s husband, with his prized horse. I love this photo because you see so many photos of men with their cars and this, to me, is in that same genre.


Here’s my dad and Patty Bradshaw watching the last circus parade to come through Battle Creek. Note his totally cute shoes and his stylish hat.


My grandpa and my beloved Uncle B. (not to be confused with my awesome, still living Uncle B., or the Uncle B. who’s dead and good riddance) and my dad were in this thing called Indian Guides. I don’t even know where to start, but it was the 50s, so I guess stuff like that seemed normal. My Uncle B. is the pudgy kid sitting next to my Grandpa, who is the man in the suit with a vest and tie. My dad is the one beating on the drum there in the right corner.

Here’s my mom in her dorm room in college. She “borrowed” this from a nearby construction site. Bonus points to whoever can identify the man in the picture behind her.


Here are my Grandma Doris and my Grandpa Bob at my Mom and Dad’s wedding. Believe it or not, his brothers were even better looking. Also, I don’t know why my Grandma is wearing a hairnet. I assume it must have been the style at the time.


Being white folks, we get started early on marrying our cousins. Here’s the recalcitrant brother marrying my cousin A. back in 83. It’s one of the few photos I could find of him smiling. My cousin A. is wearing my grandma A.’s wedding dress, which was down in the basement for whoever wanted to play with it to do so.


And this is my favorite picture of the Butcher. I must warn you, before you look at it, that it is so cute you may feel an overwhelming urge to either procreate with the Butcher or have your wife procreate with him just so you can have a kid this cute running around your house.

Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you. (And look at the pants! Argh, those will do you in if nothing else will.)(Also, I think all three of us wore that coat. My mom had these mittens we had to wear with it–though I don’t see them here–that were crocheted together by a long chain and the chain went up one arm, across your back, and down the other, so that your mittens, even when you took them off, were still attached to you.)


One Sad Thing About the Castro Situation

I heard about Castro stepping down this morning and my first thought was how bad I felt for the CIA agents who’s job it was to concoct some method of ending his reign early.  Do you think you get fired if your exploding cigar fails to do its job?

Do you think there’s like 100 retired semi-disgraced CIA agents in old folks homes around the country just going “Gah, I can’t believe he gets to retire!”?