Cindy Crawford is STILL in love with me.

My father gave me a very special gift this past Sunday... if it were 1989.  Don't get me wrong, I am very grateful.  However, had he given me this gift in 1989, I would have been considered much more cool to my peers.  I especially like the way she handprinted my name "Abe".  I think she had to have put some extra thought into it.

As you may be able to see, I was too lazy to even try and figure out how to hook up our scanner.  So, I simply took a picture of a picture.  That would also explain the backwards writing.

It turns out, Cindy Crawford is 43 years old now. You can kind of tell from her handwriting.  With her age, her finger dexterity is deteriorating and her hand eye coordination out the window, it is difficult for her to write coherently.  Sometimes I feel sorry for the elderly former super models.

In case you were wondering, my dad got this picture the night he and my mom went to dinner with Cindy Crawford, and what is really strange is that she is not even the most famous person that they have had dinner with.

I still can't get past that enormous mole on her face. I mean, I have a small mole on my nose, but nothing compared to the magafold skin nevus on her upper lip.   

Speaking of moles, last year I had a mom in my class with the same tiny mole on the side of her nose.  A few of the other moms told me that she looked like a "female version of you."  I thought it was just because we had identical moles, but at second glance, I realized she actually did look a lot like me, which was a very strange realization.  Fortunately, she was not bad looking, which I was grateful for.  It would have been awful if a group of moms told me that I bore a strong resemblance to a homely, dowdy, diva dedicated to sinful ugly wretchedness.  That could have been a real blow to the old self esteem.