So, you know, I have this whole book thing coming out in five days. FIVE DAYS! FIVE FREAKING DAYS!! (Ahem. Perhaps I am overexcited...) Anyhow, yesterday I had a very interesting experience. One that I didn't think would be a big deal, but ended up rendering me a sweaty, babbling, um, I guess there's no other way to say it... idiot.
I KNOW! I usually write about how fabulous I am! This took me by surprise too.
What was the experience? Right...I guess that would be an important little detail. I had my picture taken. For you know, book stuff. That's all.
Or so I thought...
Call me crazy, but I thought that spending my entire working life with forty little eye balls boring into my very being would prepare me for one little old camera. I mean, you know how honest kids can be. And how observant. Yeah, that's what we'll call it - observant.
"Mrs. Mimi, are those new shoes?"
"I like your shoes."
"You have funny hair."
Not so bad. Not so bad at all. However, the above comments are also peppered with these gems:
"What's that red thing on your face?"
"Why does your hair look like that today?"
"You look like you feel sick."
Perhaps they are said with love, perhaps they are said with concern, or perhaps they are said because children have no filter whatsoever. None. At. All. But whatevs...I am the FABULOUS teacher with FABULOUS shoes and a FABULOUS new dress.
You see, I thought that all these little observations would give me a fairly thick skin when it came to looking at myself critically. But oh my, oh my...looking at hundreds (YES HUNDREDS) of yourself up close and personal and all on the computer is...alarming. Clearly my defense mechanism of choice was to babble on and on. I was all, "I hate myself in pictures, and isn't my hair flat, I know I totally do slouch, I should work on my posture, should I look this way, do I have food in my teeth and ha ha ha THIS IS UNCOMFORTABLE!" I was literally spewing a negative amount of self-confidence, vomiting up insecurities all over the floor.
And the photographer was so nice. And patient. So very, very patient. Because eventually we got a shot that didn't make me want to run screaming to a remote village without mirrors. Actually, he was able to get a shot that I really like. Despite all my sweating.
Guess I'm just more comfortable with my friends.