Well looky here. A picture of moi, a rare thing since the terrible massacre of my hair by a hairdresser that shall go un-named. I'd like to title this one waiting for my brother.... mostly because he told me to be ready for 11, and here I sit. A trait, he obviously didn't inherit from our father, who would drop us off at birthday parties as kids 15 minutes early. Say it with me now, awkward.
Might I just add, that my make-up always looks its best when I have somewhere terrible to be.