So my mom and college advisor thought I should redo my autobiography because they both thought it was just blah before. So I rewrote it. I'm afraid though that its too dull and or cliche. Please comment, I will happily return the favor.
Thanks
Sifting through the pictures with my daughter, I caught myself beginning to wax poetic about the "good old days". I sense that she was becoming bored, but I could not contain the mixed emotions of nostalgia, delight, and sadness that came with each new photograph. As it turned out, putting together this scrapbook was much more emotionally draining than I had originally anticipated. Every year I pledged to do something with the plethora of pictures cluttering our house, yet until now it had always been another fruitless resolution, one that I never followed through with. The upcoming family reunion seemed like the perfect motivation to finally put together this scrapbook.
There were pictures of my childhood. Posed class pictures that never quite came out the way they should. Family shots of the five kids smiling through gritted teeth, wishing our mother would stop taking so many pictures. There were pictures of me with my friends from over various years and in various stages of adolescence, from adorable pre-school poses to the awkward ones from middle school. The high school years were well represented, spurred along by the addiction to facebook. The next section began with my college years. Pictures of my parents dropping me off at the airport, me with my first roommate in our dorm room, and a well documented collection of shots from the various activities I participated in. As the generic freshman year shots came to a close, the photos became more personal. There was my college graduation, bringing to a close the amazing four year journey of college. I felt as if I was reliving the entire experience through the photos I was sorting. Consistent throughout were the family pictures taken at gatherings, vacations, and celebrations. They were the one constant throughout the piles and piles of pictures to sort through, something to anchor the rest of my extensive collection.
After the college pictures came the next set, me in my twenties looking carefree and happy. It was the era that I met my husband and there are many adorable pictures of us. My graduate school graduation is in there too. Then there is my wedding, including some beautiful pictures. The birth of our first daughter and the pictures of her could be a collection in it of themselves-- we were proud parents of our first child, we couldn't help but document everything! There were the subsequent albums worth of pictures of the births of our next three children, various pictures of their childhoods, our own collection of family shots, pictures of me in my business suit as a lawyer and of my husband in a suit as well at his office. I finally started creating scrapbook pages, documenting the chapters of my life on creatively arranged pages.
Three weeks later, when I stepped off the plane at the San Francisco airport, with my husband and four children, I had the completed scrapbook safely packed in my carry on. Every year I am surprised by the same thing at family reunions and gatherings-no matter how much time passes, everyone stays the same. Though we all look different (age does do that, unfortunately), the personalities stay the same from year to year. When we pull up to the driveway at my parent's house, I can see that there is already a fiercely competitive game of basketball under way. Not surprisingly, my brothers are on opposite teams going head to head in a never ending battle, give them back their younger bodies and this could be a scene out of 2005 or 2015 or 2020, it just never changes. We walk inside, though now in their late seventies, my parents will not allow anyone else to do the cooking, and thus are slaving away in the kitchen, cooking up a storm for all thirty of us. Music is blasting from the computer, and like mother like daughter, my sisters daughter is leading a dance party for most of the girl cousins. My own daughter...
Thanks
Sifting through the pictures with my daughter, I caught myself beginning to wax poetic about the "good old days". I sense that she was becoming bored, but I could not contain the mixed emotions of nostalgia, delight, and sadness that came with each new photograph. As it turned out, putting together this scrapbook was much more emotionally draining than I had originally anticipated. Every year I pledged to do something with the plethora of pictures cluttering our house, yet until now it had always been another fruitless resolution, one that I never followed through with. The upcoming family reunion seemed like the perfect motivation to finally put together this scrapbook.
There were pictures of my childhood. Posed class pictures that never quite came out the way they should. Family shots of the five kids smiling through gritted teeth, wishing our mother would stop taking so many pictures. There were pictures of me with my friends from over various years and in various stages of adolescence, from adorable pre-school poses to the awkward ones from middle school. The high school years were well represented, spurred along by the addiction to facebook. The next section began with my college years. Pictures of my parents dropping me off at the airport, me with my first roommate in our dorm room, and a well documented collection of shots from the various activities I participated in. As the generic freshman year shots came to a close, the photos became more personal. There was my college graduation, bringing to a close the amazing four year journey of college. I felt as if I was reliving the entire experience through the photos I was sorting. Consistent throughout were the family pictures taken at gatherings, vacations, and celebrations. They were the one constant throughout the piles and piles of pictures to sort through, something to anchor the rest of my extensive collection.
After the college pictures came the next set, me in my twenties looking carefree and happy. It was the era that I met my husband and there are many adorable pictures of us. My graduate school graduation is in there too. Then there is my wedding, including some beautiful pictures. The birth of our first daughter and the pictures of her could be a collection in it of themselves-- we were proud parents of our first child, we couldn't help but document everything! There were the subsequent albums worth of pictures of the births of our next three children, various pictures of their childhoods, our own collection of family shots, pictures of me in my business suit as a lawyer and of my husband in a suit as well at his office. I finally started creating scrapbook pages, documenting the chapters of my life on creatively arranged pages.
Three weeks later, when I stepped off the plane at the San Francisco airport, with my husband and four children, I had the completed scrapbook safely packed in my carry on. Every year I am surprised by the same thing at family reunions and gatherings-no matter how much time passes, everyone stays the same. Though we all look different (age does do that, unfortunately), the personalities stay the same from year to year. When we pull up to the driveway at my parent's house, I can see that there is already a fiercely competitive game of basketball under way. Not surprisingly, my brothers are on opposite teams going head to head in a never ending battle, give them back their younger bodies and this could be a scene out of 2005 or 2015 or 2020, it just never changes. We walk inside, though now in their late seventies, my parents will not allow anyone else to do the cooking, and thus are slaving away in the kitchen, cooking up a storm for all thirty of us. Music is blasting from the computer, and like mother like daughter, my sisters daughter is leading a dance party for most of the girl cousins. My own daughter...