A Question Lately Asked7:30 AM
I suppose it never really occurred to me to ask why. Everyone took senior photos. The ebb and flo of photogenic teenagers from high school to college seemed to me as normal as fall to winter - and much more pleasant.
But here I was, with a good three-hundred something photos of me (which is rather frightening, like the E.T. shampoo bottle topper in my grandma's bathroom).
The question was, What to do with them?
I hadn't the slightest clue.
That does present a problem, doesn't it?
Of course, my trustee friendlings volunteered to help me out. Here they cling to each other for comfort as the fearless photographer checks out the alley next to the pub. Smalltown Wisconsin. What can I say?
Now there was some difficulty in convincing me that if I hung out into the street, I would not end up smashed into a car. At least, I finally convinced myself, I would be smashed next to a lovely pole. And that's a pleasant thought.
I felt safer hanging out in the pedestrian zone.
Which was odd, because why would any pedestrian be crossing from the pub corner to the bricked-in alley across from it?
I couldn't understand it.
In other news, there was a senseless jailing in a neighborhood. Their crime? Trespassing on their stairs, which ended up to be a good prison, too.
Someone stole the camera and found better subjects of photography. I just couldn't compete with them. (By the way, their hit new single "Cool Kid at the Park" topped the charts yesterday.)
You know you've grown up comparatively little when your mother mentions that this was your three-year-old smirk.
Not that I encourage maturity or anything. (There was a soaring church tower behind me in the sun glare, which was discomforting, considering I was clutching a bunch of flowers like One of Those Ladies in White Who Walk with Them Down the Church Aisle. Alternatively, I was standing over running water, which reminded me of Ophelia's drowning. Hamlet, you know.)
Naturally, thinking of little flowers and Ophelia and the Lady of Shalott and "If I Die Young," it took a little guts to wade into the water. You sure about this, Stacy?
Even though my photographer is the epitome of class, and she did try to get me to position my hand just so over a strategic lock of hair to produce a sophisticated senior photo look, I like this me better.
This would have a lovely idea were it not for the dirty feet.
This was a lovely idea too, a little house in the Pioneer Park next to the historical wood working shop...until we saw the NO TRESPASSING sign in the window.
The girls loved the door. They loved the shot. I admit the door's just beautiful, but the girl looks a bit too grown-up - a gross deception, as you have seen. This just oozes hypocrisy.
Bailey: I think this is private property.
Stacy: Any minute big men with guns will come out on the porch.
Bailey: Oh, no!
Stacy: Keep smiling!
And after all that...we got some pretty good shots.