Monday, January 24, 2011

Gays Mob No In Mumbai

Orange # 3 yesterday, I was 20 ...

Yes, I was 20 in 1995, which yesterday!
Had I not look like a baby Zaza on the picture of my license?

Bouhhh, I looked like a baby!

precisely 18 years I had this picture - but it's the same! - Since I passed my driver cell 18 and I got it right the first time. Not that I'm an ace driver, but thanks to the accompanied driving (thank you Dad, thank you mom) .

Twenty years to me are synonymous with my university years and over precisely my three or four years in a university residence. During this period I really started to "live".
love, friendship, I have experienced many beautiful things. Definitely nostalgic summer camps for years, I loved living in this collective environment-friendly, where cultures mingled happily, where we knock on the door neighbors for a yes or a no, where pals were watch TV on my tiny black and white office, where they squatted corridors to meet because there was no place in a room of 9 square meters where the neighbor hear me sing loudly Eddy Mitchell, Indochina and Celine Dion (mea culpa) ...

For that I am nostalgic for my twenty years ... but not for my head! The little caterpillar just beginning to prepare its chrysalis!
I just went out many years acne rebellious and very very very very complex and still had a hard time accepting me. I hated above all be photographed and this is the only I have left of my adolescence. There may be others on slides, somewhere in a drawer at my parents, but they stay there!

I had just arrived to stop biting my nails - after being slaughtered for fifteen years - my first major victory on the physical annoyed me so much.

hair was already a huge problem. After a childhood
to wear them short and supporting as best they could whenever they took me for a boy (very humiliating) , I dare say the college, meet my parents, my desire let my hair grow. I do not remember if I still had a fringe at 18, but I remember that I attached all the time doing my hair a shell, with lots of bars all over to hold all the locks. I think it was a little fashion the hull.

At 18, I made a series of additional holes in the ears, a little history m'embellir (pfff. ..) and perhaps to deflect attention from the dental apparatus which j had it accepted the return in my mouth. And yes, no luck on this side either. In addition to having had a spotty teenager, I got to the big scrap rings bonded to the teeth for several years. The total for not please!
When I removed them in third, after 3 years anyway, the result was not perfect yet, due to a miscalculation of the dentist initially (dammit it falls on me girl's really not too lucky!) , who has generously offered to me for free rebaguer repair his error, but it was out of question for me again. Only in that end I agreed to make new scrapping teeth because orthodontic bands had changed and was now made into a kind of plastic more or less transparent. I have the photo driver's license but you can imagine, although I avoided smiling at full teeth ...

There, there, you know all my little problems before!

And you, how you were at age 20?


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