I Traded In My Rose Colored Glasses And This Happened

[Author’s Note: I usually embrace humor in my writing. Because who doesn’t love a good snort of ginger ale up their nose? This is a serious piece about my emotional state, past and present. You don’t need to read it. But I so needed to write it.]

I was never a big fan of Facebook. I was into blogging and tweeting and life was good. Until it wasn’t anymore.

We can’t have enough freshly oiled butt cheeks

There are not many photographs of me in existence. Whenever anyone asks if they can take a picture of me, I negotiate. They can take a picture of my feet or they can let me take a picture of them in their underwear.

Once they see my skills with a zoom lens, they back off.

I’ve been a photographer since the days of the Polaroid and with all that snapping, I’ve learned a thing or two about taking a good portrait. Here are some of the notes I’ve made about taking self-portraits:

Wait until the Botox has softened. We know you want to look good but you don’t want to appear dead. So wait until your face has absorbed a bit of that Botox before putting on your pouty face.