So I was born with the family curse. I cannot be photographed. Well, that's not exactly true....since my image does appear in cameras. I cannot be photographed without looking like a moron. So in my mature 30s, I have embraced the moron. I'm letting go of the fact that I will never be a 17 Magazine Model finalist. It goes in the file folder with "Never gonna be an Olympic gymnast" and "Not going to give my Valedictorian speech (I wasn't even close, but I had a speech just in case....)
This is the face I've gotten used to. This is me. With a few props to set the stage.
7 comments:
I just lovelovelove you!
curse, schmurse. i think you're adorable :)
it took me a number of years, several types of haircuts, various face creams, a yogi and three witchdoctors to figure this out. Kuddos to you for overcoming - let's hit up Oprah.
(BTW you look really cute in all those - I wouldn't complain. And as a warning from a guy who knows, never try Uncle Jester's Relaxing Skin Cream for People Who Blink at Cameras... it's a hoax and burns like a mutha)
Hey I love you :) as just you :)
Yeah, But sometimes that's a good thing :)
I have that curse too!
When I see pictures of myself I think "Dear Lord! Is that really what I look like? Because I imagine myself looking entirely different!"
You are so pretty. I wish you would have been in 17. Maybe not 17 anymore since you are a wee bit past their target audience age. How about Cosmopolitan? They would totally grab you up : ).
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