you are not that ugly.

"Ew, I hate my picture!"

"I'm so doing retakes!"

"OMGosh, your picture looks so much better than mine!"

"Come on, BFF, let's see your picture! Come on! Let me see it! It cannot be as bad as mine!"

bleh.

There are two days of the beginning of the school year that drive me crazier than my newly-teenbop brother on a bad day. Those days happen to be picture day.

Come on, let's be honest. We all know that you absolutely love yourself in that picture. You are the one who curls your hair in perfect curls and had your outfit picked out since the first day of summer. You are the one who double-frosted that caked-on makeup on your petit face so you look like a person I've never seen before. You even wear a nice pair of skinny jeans and your most stylish pair of high heels. Like you can actually see them.
Right before your picture is taken, you pull out your mini mirror, touch up your makeup, cake on luscious lipgloss, and ask the boys standing next to you, "How do I look?"
When you get your ID card, you walk straight to your friends (or at least someone who will respond the way you want them to) and say the quoted sentences above (beginning of this post).

And then there's me.

Eh, I should probably wear a shirt... yeah, that could be good....

NAH, just joking with ya. I wear a shirt that is one step fancier than a t-shirt. I only wore a skirt today because it happened to be Wednesday (aka Temple Day). I straightened my hair- not to fancy and not to plain. I put on the amount of makeup that the above person would consider it to be the equivalent of being naked.

I get my picture taken.
Grab ID card.
Wait for class to finish.
Pretend to listen to people get mad about their picture.
Go back to class.

Now I can check out a book from the school library.
Avec Amour,
Maddiey
post script: I got a letter from "Army Man" (aka Breton) today. Whoop whoop.

I'm going (most likely)!