Time capsule.

After tidying up my brother’s house this morning pre-open house, I came home and started doing some tidying up of my own. Funny how cleaning his house, doing his laundry, and baking cookies, making coffee, and burning a pumpkin spice candle to make things smell nice doesn’t actually get anything accomplished at my house…

As occasionally happens, the tidying “evolved” into a greater project that involved moving furniture and vacuuming up the dead insects and dust bunnies that accumulate under and behind such things (it tends to be seasonal). I threw out a lot of crap, too, which is always good for the soul. My bed has been moved, so someone has to come sleep with me in it (“sleep with” is, of course, open to interpretation).

On a vaguely related note, my brother is a compulsive furniture mover (always has been). Like, I would go over to the house multiple times in a week during the renos, and the living room would be configured a different way every time. I suspect a feng shui master’s head would explode to enter that house. 🙂

Anyway, among the things I found was a passport photo of me (a bit beaten up, I’m afraid – the photo, not me). Alas, you don’t get to see my first passport photo (in colour!) from when I was 16-ish. This one was taken, according to the back, on April 19th, 1995, less than two months before my 20th birthday. That was my limbo year when my friends had all gone to university, and I didn’t, having no clue at that point what I wanted to be when I grew up. (Still don’t!)

My hair was still red then, and my stylist had managed to find a shade that was utter perfection on my hair and with my complexion. Somewhere I have a colour picture taken around the same time. (That’s also about as close as my hair ever got to “big”.) I also remember the coat I’m wearing. It was olive canvas with fawn leather accents. I loved that coat… Interesting: I am currently wearing the same pair of earrings.

Me in 1995.

Cripes, a helluva lot changes in ten years, doesn’t it? (I mean life in general, not my face. My face doesn’t change much.)