Today is my birthday, which is both a bizarre and wonderful thing.
Fjörutíu og tvær.
Pedwar deg dau.
Daichead a dó.1
(It apparently does not get any better when not said in English.)
If this was 1514, I’d probably most assuredly be dead, probably from childbirth. And probably would have owned no property of my own. Or been educated Or would have been considered a full fledged human. But hey!
It’s not 1514.
It really is the little things. Like clean water, soap, and science.
Where was I?
I’ve been thinking about how to document this year and since it happens to be Throwback Thursday (#tbt), a trip down Lisa memory lane seems like a good idea. Below is a sample of the pictures I started curating a few years ago to document how I aged. You can see the rest over at Flickr.
1972. I’m the one in the middle with my maternal grandparents and my two older cousins. They were 4 and 2, and I was 4 months old or so.
Christmas, 1975. I would be about 3.5.
Spring 1979 right after Jeff, my brother, was born. Yes. I am a little Catholic school girl with ribbons in her pigtails.
Sometime in 1989. The eyes? Violet contacts that I rocked for about a year or two. The lipstick? Frosted. I tended to rock punk rock hair and preppy clothes — a style that has not changed two decades later.
1998. Pictures, taken with a B&W webcam, of me and TheHusband from 1998. The images were tiny enough that I just put them together in a single image. Our secret to staying so young? Virgin’s blood – duh.
2005. Taken before my undergrad graduation, but right after one of the most expensive hair cuts/colors I ever paid — about $350 dollars. My hair was bad ass.
2014. Taken last week.
And remember: 42 is the new 28.
1. “Forty two” in Icelandic, Welsh, and Irish.