Whenever I go to my parents' house, my mom has a stack of papers waiting for me. Usually these papers are wedding announcements cut from the Herald-Leader (she assumes that I am best friends with anyone who lists my high school, college or law school as an alma mater, regardless of age, and cuts out their announcements for me), articles about gardening or healthy eating, and the occasional comic strip. This time, the pile included this little throwback treasure:
photo credit: no one wants to take credit for this.
As you can see, I was right in the thick of my awkward stage. The family was about to embark on an international adventure - to Canada! - and I needed a passport. So obviously, my mom curled my bangs extra-tight, loaded up the minivan and drove me and my brother to AAA, where I posed for this treasure. Can you see the excitement in my blank stare?
I distinctly remember this shirt, because I hated it. It was the really scratchy kind of button-down with very thick fabric that ballooned around you (as you can see from my meaty arms) especially when, as it was here, tucked neatly into jeans. But my mom said I had to wear it because I'm from America and this picture was for my American passport. Sadly, it kind of made sense at the time. I remember Ross having to wear something patriotic, too, but when I saw his photo he was just sporting a blue striped shirt. Much less obviously patriotic than mine. I'm surprised they even let him back in the country.
After my mom made me patriotic for my passport picture, the patriotism just continued to grow. Check out this picture of me and my friend Lauren on one Fourth of July (I hope!!). You can see that I was sporting patriotism on every part of my body -- and obviously, I'd spent quite a while icing that cake in the most patriotic manner.
Don't worry, I still dress up in this type of outfit every Fourth of July. I assume you'll be coming to my house this year.
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