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Apr. 1st, 2004 02:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tanaiseHee. "Saw *so* many freaking hot boys, I can't believe I'm at a SF con." I love reading old emails.
I also love looking at old photos. I just found a photo of my dad that clearly shows where I got my jaw from. In the meh sense, not the aren't I lucky sense. He also looks just like Ashton Kushner. It's kind of eerie, really. My mother's hair was very very dark when she was younger. There are dogs in these photos that I only know from photos. There are pictures that I can't even tell if it's me or a sibling, and the only photo I can find of me where you can see my eyes, see they're blue, is about 26 years old, and I'm a little fat Buddha baby with radioactive peach fuzz for hair. My baby brother's first photos, with his right foot in a cast already, and the scan of his newborn id papers, with his footprints. We didn't have a camera when I was born, so my first pictures are several days later, when my grandparents got there. There's a scattering of wedding pictures, and a few strips of photos from the automatic photolabs, of my mom and dad and an oddly shaped vegetable (Like I said, they didn't have a camera. They apparently would drive to the mall whenever they needed photos taken. Which was more often than you'd think.)
I suppose the fact that the way I got my copy of windows isn't listed under the 'is this pirated' options is a telling sign.
I wrote to the woman looking for a roommate that I saw a few days ago. Still no packing progress. I'm lazy, and I don't have enough boxes. I do need to get suitcases from my stepmother, if she's got them to spare. My dad said she probably did, and then since then I haven't heard anything. And I hate calling my dad so much. I shouldn't, but I do. I'm always so sure I'm going to end up crying by the end of the conversation, even when it is just me asking to borrow suitcases.
Oh, and bask in my new icon glory. (and particularly, check out the next post. ;)
I also love looking at old photos. I just found a photo of my dad that clearly shows where I got my jaw from. In the meh sense, not the aren't I lucky sense. He also looks just like Ashton Kushner. It's kind of eerie, really. My mother's hair was very very dark when she was younger. There are dogs in these photos that I only know from photos. There are pictures that I can't even tell if it's me or a sibling, and the only photo I can find of me where you can see my eyes, see they're blue, is about 26 years old, and I'm a little fat Buddha baby with radioactive peach fuzz for hair. My baby brother's first photos, with his right foot in a cast already, and the scan of his newborn id papers, with his footprints. We didn't have a camera when I was born, so my first pictures are several days later, when my grandparents got there. There's a scattering of wedding pictures, and a few strips of photos from the automatic photolabs, of my mom and dad and an oddly shaped vegetable (Like I said, they didn't have a camera. They apparently would drive to the mall whenever they needed photos taken. Which was more often than you'd think.)
I suppose the fact that the way I got my copy of windows isn't listed under the 'is this pirated' options is a telling sign.
I wrote to the woman looking for a roommate that I saw a few days ago. Still no packing progress. I'm lazy, and I don't have enough boxes. I do need to get suitcases from my stepmother, if she's got them to spare. My dad said she probably did, and then since then I haven't heard anything. And I hate calling my dad so much. I shouldn't, but I do. I'm always so sure I'm going to end up crying by the end of the conversation, even when it is just me asking to borrow suitcases.
Oh, and bask in my new icon glory. (and particularly, check out the next post. ;)
