So I present Great Moments in History: The Marcie & Robyn edition.
1. The matching Taz shirts at church camp, circa 1993. My word, my hair. Those bangs, that t-shirt with sleeves down past my elbows. No wonder that little 10-year old Kip didn't want to go to the banquet with me. At least I found Theven Thpack. And, ha ha ha ha ha! We wore matching clothes! In like, the 8th grade!
2. Graduation. We're actually in cap and gown garb here. I like the fact that I was such a natural girl, just letting the eyebrows take whatever real estate they wanted. And see that eyeball peeking through between the two of us? That's Charles, our third. I think this picture pretty much typifies the three of us (not to mention Michael in the background).
3. The senior band banquet, where we were each given our band plaque. This banquet was the culmination of two years of playing bass drum in the band. Marcie played clarinet, then bass clarinet, then contra bass clarinet. You gotta love a girl who plays a contra bass clarinet, because really, who plays that?? I think the best part of this picture (besides my dress, which looks like something from a Golden Girls rerun) is that we're holding each other's plaques. Love and devotion. P.S. Do you like my senior picture, when I tried to seduce that hobo by laying atop his boxcar? And how about that big panda? Stellar.
4. The graduation party. This was at Chuckles' house after graduation. (I couldn't stay long; I had a midnight curfew on my graduation night. Midnight, people.) For the unschooled, Chas is the guy in the front next to Marcie. Bryan is the dude in the back by me. Cut out of the picture is a big yellow and white cake that says something like: Congratulations graduates, Class of 1997, a list of our names, and something about being AP students. It was a great cake. And a great night. Even if I had to leave at 11:45 to be home by curfew. And also: I'm rocking the cammo. But Marcie, is that velvet? I love the old us.
So to the one who stole my heart in the fifth grade with a red moose sweatshirt, I say: Happy birthday. You are a gorgeous, smart, funny woman. Despite growing up with a best friend who had Ugly Betty eyebrows (before it was cool, no less), a mass of frizzy hair, and wore . . . cammo? Oh, we've come a long way, baby.
(You're closer to 30 than me.)
I love you.