Memory Lane

Let's start young, shall we?

How the love affair started.

My family makes peanut brittle every year for Christmas. It's a tradition that's passed down. Eventually I'll have to do it, which will mean I will no longer be able to haul my fat ass down to the mall to get velcro shoes and more sweat pants. The makings of a friendship with peanut brittle.

Every year, my mom took us to King's Island in Ohio. This was how happy it made me.

Okay, so I told you one of the worse costumes I've ever worn was when I was a horse? I was actually the ass.

Dude. My brush with a star.

Beware. You are about to think less of me because of a haircut.

Oh, Prom. He had a Camero. Could I be more redneck?

You could say I was a pack rat? But to really know, you'd have to see my room as a teenager.

The bad hair do saga continues. And I have the pictures to prove it. Christmas Dance 1972.

Put on your shades in preparation for this one. DDD's baby.

My brother thought this was hilarious. I'd have to agree.

Graduation, the future is at our feet. Also, the first picture ever with my husband, when he wasn't even my boyfriend.

There you have it. My trip down memory lane. Don't hate me because of my gnarly hair.


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