Oh no...a blast from da past...

Who is that interesting lookin' creature in the red shirt holding that really big piece o' metal?

That would be your ever-lovin' Sudie, when I was 18 years old.

This picture is part of a bigger group picture of my high school's jazz band. The year...1987. We had just finished playing our set for the Iowa Jazz Championships and had the rest of the day to wait, wait, wait for results. I found it today on an old friend's MySpace page. I'm holding my beloved baritone saxophone, which had been held together with chewing gum at some points. Actually, it wasn't MINE...it was owned by the school district, and my sister played it before I did. But back then it was MINE, thank you very much.

I believe we were ranked the 10th best jazz band in our class in the state of Iowa that year. It was a rush for me...I played baritone sax and sang with the jazz band. I think it was one of the first times they had a singer, but I could be wrong. I often am...but ANYWAY...

The drummer was my boyfriend at the time, and I thought that we'd be 2gether 4ever. Now he's 2gether 4ever with someone else and has two children. That's a good thing, I guess.

That pic was taken my senior year in high school. I'd already decided I wanted to study music, and I was cinched to go to the University of Iowa. I think I'd auditioned for my scholarship already but I don't remember off hand. I already won two Outstanding Soloist awards for my jazz singing that year, plus All-State Choir and other fun stuff had taken place.

If someone had come up to me when I was 18 and said, "Hey, guess what? In 20 years, you'll have two divorces under your belt and you'll be diagnosed with a chemical imbalance that makes your moods difficult to live with, PLUS you'll live in Washington DC instead of New York City like you'd always planned," I'd have punched them in the mouth.

But that's what I am. There's more good stuff and bad stuff as well, but that, in essence is what I am.

God...I look at that picture and wonder what the hell happened to me. I actually looked like I had hope or something. I looked...fresh-faced? Trusting? Innocent?

Nah...couldn't be that.

Instead, I think I'll look at my nieces' pictures and hope to hell they don't turn out like me.

I ask this in Big Ernie's name...amen.