Inspired by Wil Wheaton’s post (aren’t most things on the internet?), I went hunting on my hard drive and found some old pictures of myself at my college graduation.  All of the really embarassing stuff, like the shots from when I had braces and thought quilted vests were a viable fashion choice, or a few years later when I thought PVC pants and Hot Topic corsets were an equally viable choice, has thankfully been lost to the mists of time.

Still, the photo below is from a VERY different time in my life.  In some ways, it’s hard to believe it’s only been three years.

Notice how I’m clearly plotting mischief.  Notice also how my evil ex boyfriend had a really terrible dye job.  (What?  I blocked his face out.  I can snark.)  Notice for a third time how my bangs were fabulous that day.

I’d also lost a bunch of weight due to stress in the weeks leading up to G-Day, so I was feeling quite pleased with myself.  That feeling promptly came to a crashing halt when my ex proposed later that night.  In a Shari’s (which is like a Denny’s with fewer meth addicts in the bathroom.)  I had to ask him to be sure he was proposing because he ummed and erred so much.  Then I told my mother and she, predictably and understandably, freaked out.  Pretty much the only one not freaking out was my ex.  He saved that for the day after we’d signed loan papers to buy a house together, when he dumped me and moved back in with his parents.

That photo has a lot of bittersweet memories attached.  I was thrilled to have my degree, and pissed off that my ex did every passive-aggressive thing he could to keep the attention on him that day, including picking a fight with my mother, showing up forty-five minutes late to my grad dinner and, oh, PROPOSING MARRIAGE.

Fortunately, the intervening years have made the entire memory of that day sort of hilarious.  Really, I got an inappropriate marriage proposal story out of it, and a diploma, and I looked really cute.  It could have been much worse.