You see, I don't spend a lot of time fixing up. I exercise every day, which until the middle of winter is a sweaty prospect that ruins your hairdo so why bother getting all gussied up, hair moussed, dried, flatironed (or whatever you call it--See? I don't even know what that contraption is called!)?
But today, I colored my roots, pulled my wavy/curly hair straight, then used that flattening thingy, and put on makeup. We went to, of all places, the local Fairgrounds, which is a fancy name for the horse facility in town. We tried many photos in one location, but it was too bright and all the photos are of me smiling hugely and squinting hugely.
The second two locations turned out pretty good. The light was good, and by then I'd loosened up a bit.
Taking photos for me is embarrassing. Onstage, I can be anybody and really ham it up. But when I'm me, being me, and especially taking photos that can show that, yes, I am me, but if you cast me, I can totally look like her--well, it's icky. Uncomfortable. Embarrassing.
Kendra was patient, fun, and had some good suggestions. She made it mostly painless. And she's a good photographer. Click, click, click went her mother's camera. I kept trying to smile naturally. Many of the photos probably made me look like I was insane. I need to listen to something funny on my Ipod, shoot about 10 photos, and then put the Ipod back on.
Kendra asked me to think about a secret that nobody knows. That photo of me is pretty much me looking pissed. I guess secrets I have are anger-producing. So much for mysterious me. More like crabby, murderous me.
We were 20 minutes late for rehearsal because we were photo shooting. Ah well. It was successful, mostly. And okay, it was a little fun.
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