i'm ready for my close up mr. demille

toddlers & tiaras: love it or hate it. actually, love to hate it, am i right? we're all addicted [not me; i can only less then a foot in front of me] to this pageant lifestyle and my mom included. it's not her fault,
it's my dads.

he's a former pageant king bent on me taking his place in history [he won't claim this but i can see through his transparent sighs and prodes]. not only did he take home the crown when he was a baby but he also won "mr. personality"- how does one live up to that when they are only 19 days old and spend most of their time in nightgowns?

either way, i am officially in practice season. i even had my head shots this past weekend....which didn't go as well as they could have. my fault- you see, i'm a little stock-up in the dept. downstairs = gassy tummy = fussy me. poor mom, she had all my outfits planned and even had grandma teryl fake and bake me [anything to create that sun kissed glow]. my diaper got bejazzled and my hair got did- and i was ready.

until i wasn't.

the pressure just got to me all of a sudden. i started to hyperventilate and cry, boy did i cry. you know how you want something until you get it, then you freak out? [personally, i think this was mariah's problem post-'glitter']. well, i was a big boob [pun intended] for the entire two hours but thankfully, my photographer was a genius. look how well my head shot turned out? granted, it's prob the only good one she got...hence the feet shot. but you must admit, those are some handsome feet right? maybe my real talent lies in foot modeling. something to think about.

*disclosure: i hope ya'll understand most of this is satire and not true. but the most embarrassing parts are*