Awww

This is me, probably age 10.. I actually have no idea what age I am. Is that weird? Should I be able to detect my own age from a photograph? I should probably remember my age based on those pajamas. Actually that's not saying anything... I still sleep with three stuffed animals on my bed every night. Truth.

Anyways, my dad just emailed that photo to me, writing "I found the perfect photo for your blog. Not exactly jaw wired shut." Nope, that jaw is definitely all over the place. Flash forward ten years or so and I'm being wheeled out of an operating room with my face more swollen than a volleyball after a seven hour surgery and a jaw that's just been physically reconstructed with six pieces of titanium. Oh and one behind the chin. That was fun.

In a strange way, the recovery, although miserable, was a special time--a reversion to the days when we were little and our parents would take care of us when we were sick. Having someone dote on you when you feel like crap and can't move your face--that's definitely comforting.

I'm having one of those days, where even though LA is beautiful, and I am so happy that this is where I am and despite the occasional Devil Wears Prada moments, this is what I am doing... I miss home, I miss Maine, and I miss being a kid with no worries, and no responsibilities.

I also miss the days of wearing sweet pjs like that and it being socially acceptable (and I wonder why I'm still single...)