The camera never lies. Please say that is not true.
Yesterday I plucked up the courage to add my name to a website for writers.
It has in it a category for “emerging” writers.
Well that’s me. I’m emerging. Or in other words still dreaming.
As part of this site I must upload a photo.
Well readers the camera is not my friend.
I look in the mirror and I think, “Okay, no oil painting”, as my mom would say,
but not scary enough to frighten children.
However when a photo is taken, no matter what time of the day,
I look like I am definitely the worse for wear.
I have had a couple of very bad experiences already.
A few months ago I decided to make a facebook page for this blog.
“upload photo” it says.
Well I trawl through the photos I have downloaded on my computer,
searching in vain for.
a. Any that feature me.
b. Any that don’t make me look psychotic.
The problem with looking too long at such photos,
is that your standard drops.
So I picked a photo I thought was okay.
Went through the process of uploading it and hey presto, finished.
I then went to view it and OH MY GOD what a sight.
Somehow I had managed to upload a close up of just my face.
It was the perfect photo for halloween.
Since then I have steered away from photos.
However I really wanted to join this site and so there was nothing for it but “Cheese”.
I had what I thought was a great idea.
I’d take a selfie. No one would have to see it,
and in my very pass remarkable family that would mean no comments.
Well dear Jesus, I can tell you all now, selfies are a nightmare.
I tried everything, but I looked bonkers in all of them.
So it was time to ask the kids to take the photo.
This request alone greatly amused them, as I never participate in photos.
Firstly my son tried his best.
“Sit down”… Click…. “Oh God no mom”.
“Stand up”… Click… “No mom that’s worse”.
We tried everything but a publishable photo was impossible.
Looking at the photos I discovered I have a very droopy eye.
So droopy in some of the photos, that I thought we should ring for a doctor,
as I looked very like the person with the droopy face who features in the stroke commercial.
We also discovered that I smile too much, but without the smile I am very scary.
Eventually my son said he was happy with a photo.
When we looked at it, I was a barely visible spot in the distance.
Not exactly the perfect online photo.
My daughter was next to act chief photographer.
We changed room, as if that would make me look better,
and she informed me to take off my jumper.
According to her it made me look like a nun!
We began another series of photos.
It was slow progress as she had to keep pausing to wipe tears from her eyes.
With each one taken I roared in pain, “oh delete that immediately”.
I was asked to turn this way and that, to stand up and sit down.
To look up, not smile and then in desperation I was actually told,
to not look at the camera!
I was demented.
Then she began commenting on me.
Not real descriptions, she just kept mentioning parts of my body.
“Oh mom, your arms”, “oh dear, your face”, “your teeth mom”,
and always “that mad eye”.
Now maybe it was the lowering of our standards or desperation,
but when I saw it I had to agree with her.
So it’s done. A real live photo of me has been downloaded.
As I look at it today I have but one wish,
I wish it looked just a little less like me.
Now off to upload it and pretend to be an emerging writer.