To the Gal in the Glamour Shot

RD Scan Pt. 2: 163

You may not know this, but if you play the game, “Type your first name and ‘Glamour Shot’ into the search bar,” some really hilarious photos come up. My husband is Steve. “Steve Glamour Shot” in the Google search bar renders…well, you can see for yourself.

Go ahead, take a moment: Try it with “Steve.” Try it with your own name.

Are you finished guffawing yet?

When I try it, I get something extra special: The FIRST photo that comes up for “Keri Glamour Shot” is…KERI FORD!

She was adorable back in the day, but then—I wasn’t too shabby myself! This photo is from MY shoot, which I had made in honor of my engagement to the aforementioned Steve 22 years earlier ago . My husband’s office is still scattered with these big-haired portraits of me.

Bless. His. Heart. Today is our 22nd wedding anniversary. To celebrate, I’m going to give some advice to the that girl in the photo:

  • Go back to Nogales, and go back to Rocky Point. Every weekend while you are living in Tucson, travel down to Mexico and have a great time because these days its not worth your life to go there. Those days are over and the world has changed.
  • Put down that cookbook in the bookstore and get to know your Crock-Pot. You are an adequate cook, but don’t waste your money on those fancy recipes. You don’t have the temperament now to be a great, precise cook and you won’t develop it. Save your money for fancy cocktails, because it turns out you do quite enjoy cocktails.
  • Speaking of cocktails—no, there’s nothing anyone can do to make gin taste less gin-like. Smile politely at them and drink something else.
  • You will reach a point when you realize that (a) you don’t need every single person to like you and (b) you don’t WANT every single person to like you. If I were you (and I was) I’d get there sooner rather than later. It’s good here on the other side of the Wall Of Bitchiness.
  • Your marriage sticks. Worry less about it and enjoy it more.
    Three kids. Not four. Three is plenty—trust me.
  • To hell with the graduate degree in writing (I mean, REALLY, Honey!)—those people just get weirder, and you don’t want to waste that many hours learning how to write non-stories about distasteful people to whom nothing happens and who do nothing themselves. Remember the FUN story? Work on that.
  • Learn to spell “Presbyterian” correctly. And being asked to be an “elder” is not an insult.
  • If you can’t decide whether or not to go dancing, go dancing.
  • Stop mocking people wearing underwire. Very soon, you won’t have the right to talk (Remember all of those gin-free cocktails)

What would you say to blushing-faced you, bride-to-be or not?