Separated at Birth?

The statue of Albert Einstein on the campus of Southern Utah University…

And Ronald McDonald.

Peaceful Warrior

This is the type of vehicle that people drive in Fillmore, Utah. I'm guessing it's pretty standard for many small Utah towns: Panguitch, Delta, what have you... the bumper reads, "Peaceful Warrior," which I find extremely ironic. Note that I also took the picture from inside my car because I was afraid for my life.

"Blow on them"

I was sitting poolside, rocking green toenails. Like on The Big Lebowski. It was awesome.

For other picts I've taken in St. George this weekend, click here. There aren't many, as it's too sunny and warm to stay inside typing right now.

Dangerously close

Today I got my hair done. Blonde. Very blonde. In fact, dangerously close to my natural hair color. In this photo I look a cross between a fembot and Blow-up Wanda.

Backyard Tourist

Since I ended up not going out of town this weekend, but still had a couple of days off, I decided to play backyard tourist right here near home. I started off at Gilgal Garden in Salt Lake and then took a few in other spots around town. Check out a few of my other Flickr photos here.

Bad Senior Portraits

I got in a conversation tonight about how I was a little freaky-deaky as a high school Senior. I wore glasses, I played in the band and I felt horribly awkward. Looking back on my pictures, I realized I was still fun and cute-- and I only wish I could've realized that then.

It got me thinking about high school kids now. They all look so... old. It's either media influence or growth hormone build-up after years of fast food, but girls definitely look way more mature now than they did when I was in high school. Hell, I'm still waiting for my breasts to grow.

That brings me to a little search I did of high school Senior portraits which left me thinking, "What the hell?"

This girl is a high school senior? What was it I said about girls looking way more mature than I ever did when I was in high school?

Somewhere, High School Musical is missing Corbin Bleu. All the hip kids are doing it.

This pose does not make this baseball player cool. Baseball players are already cool without having to act like Wild Thing in Major League. He is going to look back at this and think, "I thought I was sooo cool. Turns out, notsomuch."

Shortly after this picture was taken, Snidley Whiplash came by and tied her up, yet, Dudley DoRight never came to her rescue.

What is it with posing these girls on the train tracks? I feel like they're all destined to jump into a car and join the circus.

Finally, this girl is going to graduate high school with a 3.9 average, go to a liberal arts college and regularly smoke cloves outside of a radio station. She reminds me of me.

Nostalgia, part deux

As I was scanning pictures earlier this week, I ran across this picture of my mom and I at Thanksgiving at my grandparents' house. This picture is particularly funny to me since she and I are both obvious divas-- looking fabulous, with cocktails. Since it's about that time of year, I thought I'd continue to reminisce a bit about how happy the holidays were.

When I was younger, we used to head over to my dad's parents house with the whole family, for turkey and libations. My grandmother used to pull out the gold flatware and metallic plates, while my grandpa was master turkey-carver. It was one Thanksgiving where I found out I didn't like ham, and that the gooey glaze on top made me throw up. After that, I was allowed Capt'n Crunch with crunchberries for most holidays. I still don't like ham.

Beyond that, everything else has changed. The family has changed, the spirit has changed. This year will be spent working and then my mom and I will head out for Chinese food and a movie. We did that last year, and the new James Bond movie gave us a couple of hours of uninterrupted diversion. Last year was a rough Thanksgiving, but Daniel Craig in a Speedo is extremely helpful in dulling emotions. The Chinese food provided sufficient departure from any turkey-related memories.

It's healthier to live in the now and create new memories, because nothing will take us back to those times at grandma's house. In a weird way, this picture predicted the future-- it's still my mom and I; looking fabulous, with cocktails, obvious divas. Old habits die hard.

Nostalgia

It's that time of year-- where families find a way to get along, and everyone reminisces about the good memories in life. We give thanks, we drink a few, but mostly, we're together. This year feels even harder than last year; last year I was numb, this year, I'm raw.

Either way, I still like reminiscing about the good memories and looking through the piles upon piles of pictures I've somehow inherited from my grandmother. While putting together a Christmas present for my brother and his fiancee tonight (I feel fairly safe in saying that since neither of them read this blog), I ran across this photo of my grandparents and my dad walking through the streets of Seattle. This was snapped in the very early 50s, and I'm not sure who took it since both grandparents are in the shot.

On the back of the photo, my grandmother wrote:

"A sorry looking lot! Steve didn't know Kenneth was along, Steve and I left him on the corner to go to the Post Office and we were gong to the store. He said he was hurrying to catch up with us. Looks to me like he's talking to himself."

To which my grandfather added:

"Yes! And it looks to me like Marcile has been talking to herself for quite some time. HA. I call it the 'goon squad'-- except for Steven."

Now I know where I picked up my smartass side which only gets diminished when defending my daddy.

Philadelphia, in pictures

I haven't had a chance to upload ALL of my pictures I took in Philadelphia, but here are some if you want to check them out on Flickr: http://flickr.com/photos/princessgolightly/

Now you know my Flickr address, so you have no excuse not to regularly check out my pictures-- and I have no excuse not to be more regular in taking them. Gotta' use that fancy camera!

Keep watching for one of the strangest pictures I've ever taken, when we decided to go on a ghost tour through the "City of Brotherly Love."