Flashback Friday: You gotta go back, back, back to school again...

Remember school picture day? What a big deal when you were a kid, right? Well...to everyone except the guy who wore the same ratty Skid Row shirt every year. You know the one.

God...I remember planning my outfits and hair weeks in advance. In fact, in third grade I even wore rollers to school and my teacher took them out right before the pictures so I'd have these long, gorgeous, black doo-doo curls. Bless you, Mrs. Rix. I know now my hair was totally heinous, but you were such a good sport and didn't laugh at me once... so much nicer than those bitches who taught pre-school.

In addition to that one, my pics over the years have featured my hair at various stages of terrible. From the long, to-my-ass straight hair parted down the middle...to the braids with feathered bangs and a fathered roach clip for good measure (sadly, I am not kidding)...to the boy-short do courtesy of my aunt (whose only hairstyling credential was owning a pair of scissors). But I think my favorite was probably my senior picture, which featured my permed,teased, sun-glitzed hair in all it's glory. Surprisingly, it all made it into the frame...most of my friends were not so fortunate.

So when I came across this amazing web site that let's you upload a pic and see what your school pics would look like at various years spanning five decades...I had to try it. Yep...that's me to the left circa 1960 (Afro-Ro is pretty kick ass, too). Check it out if you need to kill a few hours. You can thank me later.

Today's title selection: Back to School Again - from Grease

A perfect Saturday night

I spent a couple of hours on the phone catching up with my high school BFF on Saturday night. She was home alone (well, she was the only adult there anyway - TowHead was fast asleep) and I was home alone (I was the only human here - the cats and dogs were off being annoying somewhere else). We were both finishing up our first bottle of wine. (That's why were friends, it's never our first glass...it's the first bottle.)

BTW, for those of you keeping track at home, I opted not to take my antibiotic on Saturday so I could drink. Yes, I'm going to hell - and will have a killer headache on my way down. I know this. But a weekend without cocktails is kinda like Motley Crue without Tommy Lee. I mean Samantha Maloney is still a drummer and all, but it's nothing close to the same and not near as fun.



Anyway, a little buzz for each of us and out come the yearbooks. We went through our jr. high and high school annuals over the phone and read what we'd written to each other. If I recall (it's a little fuzzy), it was pretty funny (and, yes, I know...totally lame that this was our Saturday night activity). We wrote in code so "grown-ups" wouldn't know what we were talking about. But now that we're old...we couldn't remember what half of it meant. And we realized that neither of us signed the other's our senior year. (She lived with me for the last few months of it, so this is particularly odd.) But no worries, we've promised to brandish pens and code words next time we're together.

Old friends really are the some of the best friends.