A friend of mine read the blog, and noticed I had a very rushed, cell phone quality, not very flattering picture of myself in the profile section. To be honest, it was one of the two I had when I re-set up the site a few months ago, and at the time I was more interested in getting the site revamped than I was with actual content. I had forgotten about it until my friend mentioned it, but the picture, for better or worse, is a symptom of an underlying thing I've had going my whole life, and on the edge of 40 I should probably get past it. I hate having my picture taken.
It all started in high school, which is the biggest cliche I've written in this blog to date. Ugly duckling and awkward phase were the watch words back then, but it all sort of solidified the day of senior pictures. Every kid in Marshall, MO had their senior portraits taken at Lee's studio. I guess good ol' Lee was the only game in town, and apparently had made some sort of deal with the devil to be the sole provider for high school portrait sittings within Saline county. There I was on a Tuesday evening with my 80s hair and heavy makeup, my mother's suggested outfits (probably the biggest of my slew of mistakes), and to make the evening a triple threat, it was the start of the spring rainy season in mid-Missouri. So I'm sitting in the most awkward position the human body ever assumed (knees turned toward the back of the body, back strait, hand under chin, cramp acquired . . . ) when Lee says, "Okay, now, just relax and smile naturally." I did, with a big toothy grin that nearly closed my eyes completely. Lee pauses, frowns and says "Can you open your eyes a little for me?" And I'm thinking "relax, smile, legs burning, hand trembling, picture going in yearbook, kept forever, open eyes, open eyes . . . " And Lee turns to my mother, and says (I'm not kidding) "It looks like she's got a little chinaman in her—ha ha."
Now, to to be clear to everyone in the reading audience, it was not the idea of having Chinese heritage that appalled me. That would have been really cool, and definately would have made me unique in a 95% Caucasian Midwestern high school. It was that, to my very sensitive awkward teen ears, it seemed Lee was pointing out my round fleshy face with it's unfortunate musculoskeletal system, produced a smile that, simply put, was too difficult to photograph for posterity with attractive results. I didn't part my lips much during the remainder of the shoot (too focused on getting those eyes open), opting instead for a Mona Lisa version which gives a hint of happy without shoving my cheeks up and into their upstairs orbital cavity neighbors. There's not much intentional film of my teeth from that day to this. In fairness to Lee, part of the problem was the heavy 80s eye makeup, which exacerbated matters, but the rest of the problem was and is my florid fleshy English-Irish bone structure, which can't be removed with Mary-Kay products.
So, there it is. I don't like having my picture taken. While you're crying me a river, which I have no doubt you aren't actually doing, please note I have three beautiful boys and a husband to take pictures of, and I really do enjoy spending the majority of my time behind the camera (Awww, Mom, not again! Do we have to take a picture everywhere we go? It's the supermarket for crying out loud). I'm not looking for reader sympathy or even mild interest—I'm just providing a long winded explanation of why my blog had such a low-res shot for the profile, why you wont find a lot of me on my own SD card, and how someday the kids are going to have a tough time finding pictures of mom to put up on a display board (assuming they think to do that) when it comes time (far far in the future) for my funeral celebration. To avoid ending on such a down funerary note, I did take a new picture for the blog, all by myself with the iCamera on the MacBook, and I think it looks okay with it's snazzy black and white effect. And don't be too hard on Lee, who I think is still in business over there in Marshall, and I'm sure does lovely work when he has something to work with. His poor ill fated comment was simply a stress releaving joke gone wrong, which we've all done at least once or twice. Fortunately, the world is too rich and wonderful a place to worry over having your picture taken. From now on, I'm giving big fat toothy grins wherever I go! Somebody may even have a camera ready!
2 comments:
I always have hated the gap in my front two teeth and often try to smile in a way that hides that. I also hate my senior pictures, so you are not alone there.
Most of our pictures are of Andrew and (now) Austin. I started scrapbooking as a way to combine Andrew's hobby (taking pictures) with one of my own. But, Andrew does not like taking pictures of people...go figure. So, there are not many pictures of me because I am taking them all. But, get the guy around ducks or other water fowl and look out!
Can I just say, as someone who knows what your senior picture looks like, and probably actually still has one in my possession, I think you have a beautiful smile! I always have. And I'm not just saying that!
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