The 30-Day Challenge: Day Twenty-Five

So, I've tossed around the idea of playing along with this facebook trend for some time. But I've never really enjoyed following trends. However, my apparent narcissism keeps bringing me back to it.

That being said, I'm going to participate, but I'm going to do it here, instead of on facebook. (The goal is to satisfy my narcissism, as well as motivate me to start using my blog again.) Enjoy!

Day Twenty-Five - A picture of you last year and how you've changed since then.

Well, first and foremost, I do not have a mustache. I had that mustache for four days--the four days of The 21st Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee--so please do not think I walked around with a sex-offender crustache. (Also, had I planned ahead, I would have saved a certain photo for this post, and the following discussion would have been entirely diferent.)

This photo was taken almost exactly a year ago. I was, with a group of dear friends, participating in a tried and true tradition of "finding your own fun" while attending Saint Joseph's College. (That phrase was the go-to when perspective students ask tour guides what there is to do in Rensselaer). The local Catholic church has a biannual rummage sale, and when freshman-me was was still quite the Goodwill goer, I insisted that a group of us go check it out. I took my own camera, because if the collection of clothing was going to be as good as I hoped, some of it must be documented.

Thus began the biannual tradition of going to the basement of St. Augustine's and finding the most bizarre, silly, inappropriate and downright hideous articles of clothing, only to don them and model them for all to see. To think the things people donated to the sale were actually worn at some point is utterly unacceptable (and you can take that however you'd like). However, it was always a riotous good time, and I've got a million pictures to prove it.

While this photo isn't one of the really odd shots, it still represents a more carefree and jovial version of myself. It's amazing to think something so simple was something I looked forward to with such vehemency. I cleared my schedule, insisted my friends clear theirs, then verbally abused anyone who could not come take part in the silliness.

Oh... simpler times...

I just don't ever feel like I can be that guy again, which is unfortunate. But I wonder if that's not a part of growing up?