Christin at 21....9 days to go

So I found a photo album. Of enough pictures of me at 21. Or at least a few. So, a few of y'all got married this year. Whoo-hoo. I instead met the person I lovingly refer to nowadays as "The Convict." I hesitated posting a picture of him and then realized that pretty much my year was defined by the craziness that was him. This is one of two pictures I have of him.The other involves a wig and a cigarette and will not be posted for public viewing. This one involves the child he had with his ex-girlfriend while I continued to adore him. Yes, it was that crazy. We have no pictures together. That would be his decision. Let it also be noted that the picture to the left is of me and emily painting her icky Boise apartment lavender hours before she told me she would poke my eye out with her pen if I went to his house.
I still have both my eyes.
I totally went.

I thought he was hot and looked like Johnny Depp and really I thought I was madly madly in love.

I thank the convict for the things he taught me, most notably:

• How to kiss
• Who Alice & Chains, Ozzy Osborne, and Tracy Chapman were
• Tolerance, acceptance, and understanding
• How to make a tatoo gun out of a pen in prison
• The difference between Malboro's & Camel's (Malboro's will kill you.)

I still blame the convict for:

• basically every shady decision I may have made since then.

I wonder sometimes how the 36-year old convict is now doing. I am lucky to say, I really have no idea.

p.s. Thank you mom and dad for your love and support during all of this. I am forever grateful and I love you both.

And Emily. You too.
p.s. It was robbery. I know you all are wondering.
p.s. And he loved me too, by the way. ;-)