Ah, This Isn't My Homework Either
Looking at old pictures of myself is an absolutely horrifying endeavor, as it seems I spent most of my time from the age of 6 through 17 being as ugly as I possibly could (with many painfully awkward phases in which I roughly resembled a potato for reasons I can't quite explain). If it wasn't the shirts two or three sizes too big, then it was the terrible taste in hair cuts, eyewear, or just my bloatedly pudgy facial structure in general that makes me wince and wonder, what the hell was going on? I was a fiendishly cute child, before the public education system got to me, and I'll admit on a fine day that I'm not half-bad to look at now, but the time in between? Good lord, I don't think it could've been any worse if you'd beat me in the head with a two-by-four. I'm not even exaggerating; I showed my roommate an old picture of me at some marching band thing--a candid shot, mind you--and her immediate, unchecked reaction was a hearty "UGH!!!!! AUGHH!! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD LIZ!!! WHAT THE HELL?!" (It's okay, as this is my reaction too.) I'm not just imagining this shit, dear friends. The past ten years or so have been a terrible time for my head. Now, before I waste EVEN MORE TIME, I'll wrap this up by apologizing to you, my dear audience, if you had to bear witness to the atrocity that was my physical appearance from kindergarten up to and through 12th grade. I swear to you I've gotten better.