Bad hair days

Today I had the privilege of appearing on the Hall of Shame Fame in the registrar's office at the college where I work. They have a picture frame hanging on their wall, and once a month they post a new picture of someone who works here. This is usually a blown up picture from a past yearbook (which, of course, is always VERY flattering) and until recently, it was always someone who had attended here as a student. It's fun to see the picture and try to guess who it is. And then spend a few minutes snickering about their past appearance.

Well, apparently, they are running out of former students.

I got a call today saying "Oh, you have to run down and see the new picture." I asked who was in this month's picture and my sly co-worker avoided the question. I had to go downstairs anyway, so I popped into the office to see this:


Nice. Fifth grade. Poodle hair. Don't I look thrilled???

I would like to thank all the little people who made this award possible. First, to my mother, for lovingly perming my hair when I was 11, and for scanning this picture into an electronic format so she could easily share it with the world. Second, to my father, for standing me in front of the curtain in our dining room (along with my "student of the month" award) to take this lovely picture. Third, to my sister and brother-in-law, for being such willing participants in this surprise. And finally, I must stop and thank God for bestowing on me such a full head of hair, which is magnificently emphasized when permed.

Since I am already baring my soul to you in the form of Bad Hair Humiliation, here is another picture for your viewing pleasure:


This was taken in 1990, at my sister's wedding. Wouldn't Dolly Parton be proud??