Awkward Hall of Fame

My mom was doing some cleaning a couple of weeks ago and presented me with these little gems:

Yup, all four of my high school yearbooks. I started flipping through the first couple pages (you know, the ones where everyone signs with Call me! and BFF4L) and had to fight back the embarrassment. Particularly when I got to the pages headed with **DO NOT SIGN. THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR B!** and then completely filled with sweet nothings from my seventeen year old boyfriend (now husband) as he professes his undying love for me. Oh don't you worry, I filled up at least two full pages in his yearbook too. I gag a little bit thinking about it. Soooooo awkward!

Anyway, when I was in college and lived with three of my bestest girls in a house on campus, we dedicated a hallway wall to post pictures of ourselves in middle and high school. We called it the Awkward Hall of Fame because we were all convinced that each of us was more awkward, nerdy, and loser-ish than the other. Nothing says uncool like permed short hair, oversized glasses, and high waters. Thank goodness we're finally cool now, right girls?! Ha.

While I was definitely a middle school quasimodo, high school certainly lent itself to more awkwardness though I could mask it better through bootcut jeans that finally came in a long length and some better haircuts. Let's move on to the evidence...

1997-1998 Freshman Year

Hmmm. Where to begin? Maybe with the greasy strands I selected to frame my face would be a good place. Because you know that I strategically placed them for the photo. This is pre-eyebrow shaping too. Love it.

1998-1999 Sophomore Year

A slight improvement over the previous year. I remember feeling scandalous wearing this top because it was - gasp - sleeveless! I'm pretty sure my mom made me pack a sweater in my backpack in case the dean caught me. Scratch that. Backpacks weren't cool sophomore year. I opted to lug around twelve tons of books that year instead of strapping a Jansport to my back. I guess I carried the sweater to school.

1999-2000 Junior Year

Oh, the year of the plastic choker necklace. And more risque shoulder bearing. The dress I wore in that pic cost a fortune at Express and had buckle clasps on the straps. I probably spent an entire month's worth of babysitting money to buy it and sent it off to Plato's Closet by spring. These days, I couldn't tell you the last time I set foot in, let alone bought something from Express. Honestly, it's been years.

2000-2001 Senior Year

Omiword. I can't belive I'm showing you this one. In color! It's awful! They didn't even brush out the acne on my forehead for MY SENIOR PICTURE. Gah. Also note the not-so-subtle lightening of my hair. Thank you, Sun-In, for bequeathing me with that brassy shade of orange. I had to use that natural method of lightening before I turned 18 since my mom wouldn't let me highlight my hair until that magic age. So, on December 23, 2000, I not only booked an appointment at a salon to get blonde highlights, but I also WENT TO A FLEA MARKET to get my belly button pierced. (What? You think that's unsafe and skanky? Oh, it totally is, but the tatoo parlor where I wanted to get it done was closed. God help me if I ever have a daughter.)

2001 Senior Superlative: Best Dressed

Despite the bad hair and interesting outfit choices, I manged to be voted best-dressed by my fellow classmates. Riddle me that.

Please, feel free to join me in the awkwardness. And have a happy Thursday!