Ten Things I Hate About Me, Part Something or Other: Soul Stealing Suckfest
Things I am reluctant to say goodbye to:
The space where my son's front baby teeth used to be.
The way my daughter still says, "incept" instead of "except."
The fact that the puppy is already too big for me to pick up and carry when I want her to come in the house.
My student teacher, who rocks, and who has been doing all of my work for weeks now.
My red leather bag, whose handles are getting worn out.
Thing I am desperate to say goodbye to:
My abject terror of and the crippling anxiety caused by having my picture taken.
I need some photographs of myself for a project, so I arranged with a student, who happens to be a gifted photographer, to take some shots of me today. Not a big deal.
Unless you are me.
When I got married, my brother, the Brother of Honor, threw a shower for me based on the principles of immersion therapy. Everybody at the shower had cameras and my picture was taken nonstop for the entire three hour party. He was trying to get me used to having cameras around so that I didn't look like a deer caught in the headlights in every shot taken at the actual wedding.
There are too few pictures of me with my children. I try to be behind the camera, rather than in front of it.
When I look back at older photos, I rarely come upon any that I like of myself, and even more rarely find any in which I even look like myself and not a tense and unnatural facsimile.
I am not photogenic.
And I hate having my picture taken.
But, as this student reminded me yesterday while I worked myself up into a ridiculous state in preparation for this "photo shoot," I'm going to be really sorry if I can't get over this enough that my children have pictures of themselves with their mother.
In the short term, I just need a few decent headshots. So I'm going to try to get it together...repeat the serenity prayer, breathe from my diaphragm, utter positive affirmations, sacrifice a live goat. I don't know.
In the long tern, I need to say goodbye to this.
The space where my son's front baby teeth used to be.
The way my daughter still says, "incept" instead of "except."
The fact that the puppy is already too big for me to pick up and carry when I want her to come in the house.
My student teacher, who rocks, and who has been doing all of my work for weeks now.
My red leather bag, whose handles are getting worn out.
Thing I am desperate to say goodbye to:
My abject terror of and the crippling anxiety caused by having my picture taken.
I need some photographs of myself for a project, so I arranged with a student, who happens to be a gifted photographer, to take some shots of me today. Not a big deal.
Unless you are me.
When I got married, my brother, the Brother of Honor, threw a shower for me based on the principles of immersion therapy. Everybody at the shower had cameras and my picture was taken nonstop for the entire three hour party. He was trying to get me used to having cameras around so that I didn't look like a deer caught in the headlights in every shot taken at the actual wedding.
There are too few pictures of me with my children. I try to be behind the camera, rather than in front of it.
When I look back at older photos, I rarely come upon any that I like of myself, and even more rarely find any in which I even look like myself and not a tense and unnatural facsimile.
I am not photogenic.
And I hate having my picture taken.
But, as this student reminded me yesterday while I worked myself up into a ridiculous state in preparation for this "photo shoot," I'm going to be really sorry if I can't get over this enough that my children have pictures of themselves with their mother.
In the short term, I just need a few decent headshots. So I'm going to try to get it together...repeat the serenity prayer, breathe from my diaphragm, utter positive affirmations, sacrifice a live goat. I don't know.
In the long tern, I need to say goodbye to this.
Posted by Well Read Hostess at 11/6/2009 1:01 PM 
Categories: Keeping it Real
Tags: I look like crap photographs
Categories: Keeping it Real
Tags: I look like crap photographs
Just remember, the small half smile is way better than the giant grin. It took me far too long to learn this. And have something to do with your hands - lean on something, have a prop -everyone feels doofy if their arms are dangling.
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I'm with you on all of this. I hate being on camera. Or near camera even, just in case it finds me
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I don't really have a hang-up about cameras. Or maybe it's just that I don't care enough.
And you've even posted my words on your blog, relevant to this discussion. And I know I'm in the majority on this, even if the Y chromosome in some men won't permit them to admit it publicly.
To quote Rob Schneider in any of his cameo roles in Adam Sandler films: You can doo it.
But your feelings are certainly not unique. When I take pictures of clients' houses prior to creating a design, the women invariably scatter when the camera comes out.
So I usually try to quick snap a pic of their ass, just to mess with them.
I know. You're thinking "why are all the good men already taken?"
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Argh, hope your photographer doesn't channel his/her inner Glamor Shots professional. One word...photoshop. Can't tell you how often I've 'trimmed' upper arms through artful cropping. Oh, and a trick for the double chin? Lay tongue flat against the roof of your mouth. Works like a charm!
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Sheesh. I thought I hated the camera. My kids aren't going to have any pics when I'm gone, mostly because I take more pics of the puppy than anyone else. And yeah, what's up with that growing thing? She's almost 25 lbs now. Sux.
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Billy actually had to practice smiling before our wedding. And then during the entire day he had people remind him not to smile too hard. Because he's so self conscious of smiling in photos that he usually has this huge, goofy grin that pushes his cheeks way up and makes him look like one of those punching clowns. You know the ones that you punch and then pop back up to hit you in the face? Yeah. Those ones.
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I used to be photo phobic but I realized(probably with the advent of digital) that the more pictures I have taken of me, the more(one or two) I get that I really like. My husband likes to photograph me. He's played with settings and angles until I like what I see. And I scan pics immediately and ruthlessly delete pics of myself that I don't like.
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yes, I hate being photographed as well! I have learned that if the photo is taken by someone with a teeny bit of photography skill, it helps, as opposed to a thoughtless snapshot. Also, I always photoshop my own photos to my liking
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I happen to have some entirely flattering portraiture of you. I'm considering having them embroidered on cocktail napkins.
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Pam: those napkins would only come in handy if someone needed to hork up a cheesteak in one of them.
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I am too much of a lady to hork up cheesesteak. I only ever pretend to deep throat them.
Mmmmm.... meat.
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