the epitome of bliss

Finally, the blogger deities decided I was allowed to post a picture.

MY FAVORITE PICTURE OF ALL. Feel free to click on it for a bigger version.
(I swear I didn't buy the scanner just so I could scan this picture.)

I love this picture. I don't know why exactly but here are some rough guesses:

1) I usually hate to see myself in pictures. Ok, I hate pictures of me from the last...oh...13 years. The fat years. This here? On the chubby cusp, but looking tall and svelte, if I may say so. Sad that I hit my ideal weight at age 13, and also that nobody thinks I'm that tall anymore because when you grow out people don't notice the up.

2) Do I not look so damn cute in my riding get-up? From the looks of it, this picture was taken after I'd finished competing for the day. Otherwise my cuffs wouldn't be rolled (and aren't we loving that?!). This was in Colorado Springs, where we competed two years in a row for two weeks during the summer. Possibly the most fun a 13-year-old girl can have.

3) Can I admit something? I'm totally digging my 8th grade bangs! At the time I hated them, as I had no control over them. The only curls on my head are these renegade wisps at my temples, so when I had bangs those curly parts stood up, out, to the left...they did everything but stay flat - something I like to call "the wings." You know that accent thingy that goes over the N in jalapeno? What is that called? It's above the tab key on your keyboard. That's what my bangs looked like when proper care was not given. You wanna know something scary? I was thinking, after looking at a bunch of pictures from this era, that the bangs were not a bad thing on good days. Would it be so bad to try them again, knowing I now have the patience, product knowledge, and most importantly: a straightener?

4) Look at all the damn ribbons we won! We (me and like 4 other girls) were AWESOME. We totally kicked the asses of all the snobby rider girls who trained in barns with concrete aisles, air conditioning, and grooms. The snobby rider girls had to train in the exact type of outfit I'm wearing above, while we at the casual barn wore chaps (yowza!) over our jeans and ratty t-shirts. We also groomed our own horses while dodging the crazy chickens in the barn aisle. We were the unspoiled spoiled.

5) Go me with the leather bracelets and the watch all stacked up! I am hot for my 8th-grade self! IS THAT WRONG?! Also, my collar is not "popped," the shirt is called a "ratcatcher" and it's a formal riding shirt with a little collar that stands up. Then you take a little piece of matching fabric and velcro it around the little collar to hide the button. I'll post another picture with an example of a ratcatcher worn properly. It's fetching.

6) It's all of the above. I like the pose. I like the setting. I like the pristine memories that flood back when I look at it. I'd give away everything to be that skinny, spoiled, and happy again. I'm definitely happy now - happier than I've been in years - but the happiness in the picture is untouchable.

More bangs to come.

Seriously. What if I had bangs again but took better care of them? Am I TOTALLY FUCKING INSANE?