Ramblings Post #1
It's a new year and I'm changing the title of the posts that don't directly deal my issues in relationships or about relationships, or anything like that into my brand new category - ramblings from the mental broom closet, which aptly enough is right down here on the dark end of the bar. Damned convienent. Or Ramblings because I really don't feel like typing all that out every time. Well, here goes.
I've been trying to do one of those self portraits lately. The ones where you hold your arm out with the camera, snap a photo of your mug and it comes back looking like your stylist did an extra good job. My shots look like I'm someone's perverted uncle or should avoid church towers or dark spooky castles lest I be pressed into service.
Or so I think.
I've been told I have soulful eyes. I've been looking in a mirror lately. Maybe she needed glasses.
Okay, there are days I think I'm not doing too bad. True I need to get back in the gym or on the track, but this first year of school has been hell on my schedule. It's not crazy bad because my pants are still falling off my shrinking ass, indicating what little rear I did have may be leaving. And trust me, my ass is spectacular.
I was home over the holidays and my father - who thinking of engaging in a new career in public speaking - was able to take self portraits that didn't look half bad. My father who I think can now actually legally be considered elderly is able to shoot the cool self shots and I can't. What the hell is going on here? What about that picture - or mental image - just doesn't sound right.
The real issue that we, or rather I, normally do not see myself. There is the glance in the mirror in morning as a brush the teeth or comb the hair, but not the scrutiny of others observations. So seeing the shape of my own head form a different angle, the idea that no I do not look quite like I imagined is actually slightly disturbing. I could have sworn I looked better than that. It's got to be the lighting.
Or my camera. Cause it damn sure ain't me.
Cause I am good looking.
My momma told me I was. And my mother wouldn't lie to me. So there.
Barkeep. Let me a have a tall mango juice with a strawberry blend.