Sometimes, I feel like life is no less than a series of horrifying realities about one's self as observed and reported by friends and loved ones. I once lived happily in the ether of ignorance, unaware of simple facts. Such as, that I cannot dance or sing. That I have fat pads on my back (der. muffin tops). That I have and make regular use of a drinkin cup. That I have a music collection which includes Ace of Bass and Cher (and the single "My Heart Will Go On" from TITANIC).
The last year has been particularly eye-opening. The pealing away of the blissful layers of ignorance that once shielded me from harsh reality have made me realize that Ideal Jason is nothing like Real Jason. Not even distant cousins. Through marriage.
Thus continuing in the year's newfound tradition known as Life's sucker punch to the face, yet another occurrence of reality happened at a party. Well, the instance occurred at the party, among friends new and old -- the realization was made days later, as I stared horrified at a photo of me on Facebook.
A message in my inbox notified me that I had been tagged in a photo. Goodie, I thought. My likeness is being shared virally on the internet. Without any action or effort on my part. I am cool.
I clicked the link and saw that the photo was from the "Group Wrap Party" album. I clicked the thumbnail, and the image filled the screen. At first, I stared for a moment, feeling nothing. Then it just lazed around me like a fog. I groaned, "Aw, it's awful. Just awful."
Heather happened to be in the other room. She promptly appeared with a power drill in one hand and goggles, with an inquisitive look on her face. "What is it?" she asked.
"Oh, nothing," I replied. "Just can't take a good picture and have it end up on Facebook. It's always an embarrassing one."
"Oh, yeah," she said with recognition. "What's wrong with it?"
"What's wrong with it!" I snapped. "I look like Stephen Hawking getting kicked out of his chair."
She was calm and cool. She said, "I don't know how to tell you this, but you make that look a lot."
Horror swept over me like a cold heavy blanket. I croaked, "I do..?"
"Yes. When you get really passionate, you lean forward. You talk with your hands. Your lips stick out like that."
I felt sick. Was it true? My eyes were glued to the photo, the ridiculous PUBLIC photo on the internet.
"And...people see me like this?"
"Oh, yeah," she assured. "Most definitely."
Her words sank in. Then, appropriately, she brrzzzzt the drill in the air like a vigilante road warrior repairman and said, "Gotta go and finish these shelves."
"Sure," I said, but she was already gone. I stared at the photo in thought, letting the reality permeate the facade of my false self-image like battery acid.
Okay, I thought. I'm okay with this. Note to self: do not get passionate in public.
Note to everyone else with a camera and a Facebook account: if ever it happens (likely through trickery or optical illusion), and a bald spot appears on my head, do NOT let me see it.
For all other photos, please note the newly-established approval process:
A. All photos must be shown to Jason prior to publication, no exceptions
B. The following are automatically disqualified:
-- Fat angle photos
-- Gobbler angle photos
-- Weird eye punched in the face photos
-- Short photos inaccurately creating the illusion that my legs and torso are in an atypical proportion to each other
C. NOTE: any photos of UJLs (Unsightly Jason Look-alikes) will receive a Cease and Desist [see EXAMPLE below]
2 comments:
I am literally LOL!!!!!!!! Too funny!
;-D
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