That's me on the right, with the mom jeans. I was 15 (Embarrassment courtesy of my pal Lindsey via Facebook), and it was 1995. Don't judge.
Anyway, back when I was young and
idiotic innocent I used to have all sorts of fantastical ideas and emotions about life, love and happiness. Delusions of grandeur? Perhaps.
It seems like over the past few years, jaded too much by life, I've transferred that habit of seeing meaning in every little thing out of real life and into watching LOST. Lately though, I've been surprising myself. I've been getting excited about life. I've been girly about some things. It's weird. I vaguely remember this Meghan and I guess after a long coma, she's back.
And I'm kind of thankful I'm not really a heartless robot.
That's me in the middle, making much better fashion choices 14 years later.