My mother happened to stumble upon this picture of me, in which I look like I’ve been beaten, shot with a BB gun in the head, and administered some giant, freaky contact lenses. I think it spooked her, because this is what she e-mailed me:
Linz,
Ewwwweeeeeee! Linnnnzzzzzzzeeeeeeee!!
WHAT is THAT picture on Flickr?!?! Puh leeeze tell me that’s not you! I couldn’t remember my Yahoo ID stuff so I couldn’t get in, but there was a rep pic on the email you sent 2/22. Are you playing around with photoshop there a little bit? EEEEEWWW! My beautiful child, don’t do that any more! :(
I love that my mom is throwing out the word “Photoshop,” since she’s never used it, but I feel bad for making her think, probably for the millionth time, that I am some kind of demented freak with a soft spot for BDSM, pain play, and death metal.
Heh, be glad she didn’t email you this:
Far out! Too drunk to type!
Haaaa ahaaa!!
That sounds a lot like every e-mail I’ve sent you in the past six months!!!
Tee! But it comes across differently when it’s coming from your own mother, for some reason.
Sheesh, that probably doesn’t make sense.