My ‘official’ photo for this challenge is this one, taken when I was visiting Tay in Colorado when we were doing the long distance thing for those 14 months. I think this was my first visit in 1995, so I would have been 20 years old in this photo. I have a hard time remembering being this young.
Oh, but there’s more.
I thought I was in serious trouble when it came to doing this challenge because I went through all of our photos on our photo drive and found hardly any of me. As in zero. Then I found a couple, buried in all the car photos that Tay took that year (there are hundreds of car photos, and maybe three of me). This is one of them:
This was taken in the fall of 1998, a week before my 23rd birthday. And yes, my hair really was that red. And curly too, though you can’t really see the perm in that photo, but you can see it in this photo, which I found when digging through our boxes of photos when my computer search was such a flop:
This is a picture of me and my friend Barb, who is easily one of the coolest friends I ever had. She always wore funky glasses and platform shoes at the hair salon where we worked and probably had her tongue peirced long before everyone else started doing it. This was earlier that summer I expect, still 1998.
And then there’s this, taken Christmas time, 1998, after we moved to Ontario. You can see just how often I change my hair – back to brown, and growing it out (this was after I had dyed it purple a couple of months prior). We were living very well during this time, eating out a little too much – this is around the time I started to get fat.
And a year (I think) later, our first summer in Ontario and we were busy doing all the tourist things with different people that were visiting (Stacy was here that summer). Again, different hair. Short and highlighted and frankly, a little too butch for my taste.
And then I found this – a photo taken the day before I left for Vancouver. I was 21, and leaving all my friends and family. That was a hard, hard day, especially leaving Stacy who was only 11 at the time.
Speaking of Stacy, here she is with me at my high school graduation. I was 17, she’s 7 here.
And then I found this picture of me and my sister (and look at my hair! It’s super short!):
And then I found this picture and I might as well have stopped looking because I wasn’t going to find a picture better than this one:
Me and my grandmother, at my cousin’s wedding. I would have been 16 – I know this because I met a boy at the wedding who was working the venue (he was a bus boy) and I gave him my phone number and ended up talking to him late one night before a physics final that I did very poorly on as a result. This is one of the last photos of me taken with my grandmother and other than the one of me and her on the boat when I was small, it’s the only other one I have of the two of us.
(Ps. Someone needs to tell Clara to not despair over the severity of her eyebrows – because she obviously gets them from me and after years of tweezing and waxing and plucking, my eyebrows look NOTHING like that).
*Making blogging fun (and easy) again by participating in this 30 Day Challenge.