Feeling: squatty
Listening to: the Booger-bear snoring
Reading/Watching: e-mails & Friends reruns

Somewhere along the way, I became moderately photogenic.

There are literally hundreds of photos from the past few years of my life, uploaded to various sites by myself and by friends, showing me laughing, dancing, prancing around, drinking, singing, or essentially mugging in flattering clothes, preening and being fabulous. It's incredible to contemplate, that there is so much evidence of me being a person that knows how to be alive.

Especially since I spend 99% of my time miles away from being the girl in those pictures.

I usually feel like the absolute worst photo: you know, the one someone snapped first thing in the morning when you're frizzy and poochy-eyed and fuzzy-toothed and morning-breathy and the creases from the pillow are still on your cheek? The one someone took as a cruel joke?

Yeah, that's me. That's really actually me.

...but at least the people in your life who are around to sneak that cruel morning-breath photo are the ones who don't give a shit what you look like pre-makeup.

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