Suuuuuper Bmore Mama!!!!

I finally figured out why my office (at home) always looks like a tornado struck while my desk at work is usually immaculate. I get distracted very easily when in the comforts of my own home, equipped with computer, scanner and memorabilia from my youth.

Like just now I was cleaning out the disaster zone I call a closet when I came across something I made back in high school. Instead of reminiscing for a moment then putting it in its rightful place what do I do? Scan it then blog about it, what else?


OK, let me explain.

I spent just about my entire teenage existence being completely infatuated with an a cappella group called Rockapella. We're talking psycho fanatic. I had a geocities page (remember geocities? Does that still exist?) dedicated to them. I watched Where In The World Is Carmen San Diego, a kids' geographic game show on which they were the "house band" every single day and even taped it. I cried the first time I missed it. Oh- and I was in middle or high school at the time. I was a member of their fan club and knew everything about them.

Oddly enough, all the original members (original meaning the ones who were actively in the group when I first discovered them) were left-handed. So I spent hours every day practicing writing with my left hand. I read that one member enjoyed mushrooms and onions on his pizza so I would always order the same, even though I have always hated mushrooms. Scott Leonard, my favorite (and the driver in the scenario above) wore his watch on his right arm, with the face on the palm side of his wrist. So I, of course, started doing the same.

Sean Altman, one of the members, used to have a very distinct hairdo:

He had his dark curly natural hair on top, then the bottom half was bleached blond and braided.

Oh yes. I did that to myself. Not to my entire head, but I drove myself to a hair salon and told the woman that I wanted one section of my hair bleached then braided. She looked at me like I was sprouting a second head as I spoke. There was much debate about how much she should charge for that. And she did convince me to choose a section at the bottom where it would go mostly unnoticed.

I'm telling you, I was OBSESSED. I didn't want to be like them, I wanted to BE them. The craziness just goes on and on. I could literally go on for hours recounting all the wacky stuff I did just to either be like them find out more about them. Very pathetic. If I had dedicated even a tenth of the time I spent focused on them to pursuing some kind of hobby or sport I'd be a millionaire by now due to my unparalleled skill.

But no, all I have to show for my decade of infatuation is this photo. In case you couldn't figure it out, that's me in the muscles and spandex. And Rockapella in the car. And of all the predicaments to put them in, I chose a sinking car? I won't even venture into the land of wondering what psychological explanation there is for the fact that the group was totaly helpless and at my mercy. I think I'm going to frame it. Man, I was ripped!