Eden M. Kennedy has acted impulsively in ways she now regrets.

SNAP OUT OF IT

I am as tired of being sad as you probably are of avoiding reading about my being sad, so let's take a look at some old family photos and have one last good cry. No, ha ha! Let's make fun of old family photos, and then be wistful, and then wonder how many generations of Gustafsons wore those overalls.

When I met Polly Pagenhart at last year's BlogHer conference it was all I could do to keep from running up to her, grabbing her by the shoulders, and shouting, "YOU LOOK LIKE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF MY MOTHER'S RELATIVES, ARE YOU FROM MINNESOTA?!" Actually, I didn't keep myself from doing that at all, except I said it in a measured tone and I didn't actually grab her, though it was hard not to, as she is such a peach.

Now, at last, I have rounded up the evidence. On the left, we have Polly:


(Lindsay Ferrier is on the right)

and here, from left to right, are my aunt Caroline, my aunt Joyce, and my mom.

CAN YOU NOW SEE WHY I WANTED TO TAKE POLLY HOME AND DEMAND THAT SHE MAKE ME WAFFLES FOR DINNER?!

Fuck, what time is it? I have to get ready for work. But okay, here's one more photo of my mom and her family re-enacting a scene from Paper Moon:

God, they're beautiful. My mom is on the left with the braid on the top of her head. I adore the way the one kid, whoever she is, is sucking on a lollipop like she's (quite believably) smoking a cigarette. My grandfather is on the right, looking tough. He loved his girls, though:

Next time on Fussy.org: "My Mom Wore Bobby Socks!" As well as, "My Dad In Post-War Japan: He Was Quite The Cut-Up":

Chicago: Paris of the Midwest

When You Gotta Go

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