I’ve decided to become a person who posts more pictures of herself on the internet.1 Just what the world needs!
This is a dumb idea and I’ll probably give up on it after realizing that I look like some sort of fundamentalist who lives in the boonies and homeschools her 12 children (not that there’s anything wrong with that).2 But the thing is, I’ve realized that I like when bloggers post pictures of themselves. Wait, let me qualify. I don’t want to see your post-workout sweat. All due respect,3 I don’t want to see you in your bathtub. I don’t want to see 827 painstakingly overdone closeups of each element of your outfit. But in general, if you have a blog, I want to see you sometimes. Why? I don’t know. Maybe for the same reason I like looking in everybody’s windows when I’m outside and it’s getting dark. That sounds totally creepy, but doesn’t everybody do that? I mean, I don’t want to see you in your underwear or anything. I guess I like getting a little glimpse of people’s lives, whether it’s through pictures or a little glance at their living rooms. And if I’m reading your blog, obviously I want a little glimpse of your life in particular, and I guess I like when people do that with pictures in addition to words.
Aside from needing a haircut, the problem is that I generally have designs on looking decent that fail to materialize when I wait until the last minute to get ready to go anywhere and end up looking like a hipster hairball that was vomited up by a hipster cat. (In my defense, we were going to a baseball game, where it is reasonable to represent for your super-awesome team that happens to be in first place (Go Sox!!) and you could tell it was going to rain, like, the whole time, so the least you can do is wear a hat in a futile effort to prevent your glasses from getting wet.) Soren and I ducked into the restroom to grab some paper towels to dry our seats (sorry, trees) to avoid unsightly butt wetness. Nobody else was in there. I put my beer on the counter and said, “Soren. Let me take a picture of how ridiculous I look.”4
As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a big fan of taking pictures of myself in the bathroom, because I guess I find that less weird than letting anybody see me take pictures of myself or asking anyone (i.e., Ben5) to take pictures of me. In an effort to perform a full Monty of hipsterdom, I had to use Instagram. And the result was, as you see, nothing special and not really worth posting, but whatever. I’m on a mission.
Okay, so I need a better mission. Maybe I should finally learn to crochet.
1. I will never, ever, ever refer to these as “selfies.” Just typing that word out to tell you I’ll never use it has resulted in existential angst.
2. I need a haircut.
3. This is generally code for “Hey asshole.”
4. I’m not one of those “OMG the children of bloggers are going to end up damaged and in need of continuous therapy beginning in the early teen years and continuing even after they Salinger themselves into isolation in a desperate attempt to reclaim the privacy and personal boundaries so cruelly taken from them at a young age” curmudgeons, but objectively speaking, this is probably kind of weird.
5. Ben is many things, almost all of them awesome, but he is not a photographer or particularly patient with people hell-bent on doing stupid, self-indulgent stuff.