Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Candid photos...

I hate it when people take candid pictures of me.  I especially hate it when they share their candid pictures of me, even though I doubt other people think I'm as ugly as I think I am.  When we were in Virginia for Thanksgiving, my brother-in-law, who is actually a pretty good photographer, called my name.  As I turned to answer him, he snapped a shutter.  I immediately got annoyed and said, "Don't take pictures of me!"

The photo I included in the last post was a candid photo.  I was a little annoyed that a cousin sent it to me... but then I heard about my Uncle Carl.  Now I guess I'm not so annoyed... though if I had known a photo was being taken, maybe I wouldn't have been caught in such an unflattering shot.

Bill has the same problem I do.  He usually gets caught mid wink when someone takes his photo.  I am probably the best person to take his pictures, though, because I love him.  The pictures I take of him and share are usually flattering, because while I know he doesn't always photograph well, I catch him when he looks good.  And the pictures I take reflect how I feel about him.  Even though Bill hates being photographed, he has told me often that I get good pictures of him.  I must say I do, even though I am not that great at photography.

I get caught with my head in a position that gives me triple chins and I'm sitting in a way that makes me look even dumpier than I am.  If I take my own photo with a webcam, I can make myself look more attractive.  If someone else takes the photo, I look like Jabba the Hut.  It's embarrassing.

But hell... I'm getting old anyway.  What difference does it make that I look like Jabba the Hut?  I was lucky enough to snare a husband who is attracted to me for more than the way I look on film.

Incidentally, I got a very nice Christmas card from my mom.  She thanked me again for singing at my dad's memorial.  She said my solo was "very meaningful"... which may not sound like much unless you know my mom.  She's not one for gushing.  She has to have cataract surgery next month and it looks like the VA has given her an allowance, so she'll get to stay in her home for the time being.  I know that's a relief for her and for her four daughters.

Like everyone else, mom worries about the CIA torture report.  And to be totally honest, reading about it turns my stomach.  I know this stuff goes on.  It still makes me sick.  I hate to read or hear about people torturing other people.  Abuse makes me sick... and some of the things I've read makes me think that there are a lot of abusive sickos working for the CIA.  Makes me glad they didn't hire me.

In other news, we have to get yet another ID card because the government has rewritten Bill's contract.  The good news is, it looks like we'll get more than a year here.  Hallelujah.

ETA: We were visited by the landlords tonight... We were not expecting their visit, but they brought us a Christmas card and wine... Bill opened the door and the dogs got out, which caused us to have to corral them in the dark.  Fortunately, one of our very nice neighbors who speaks English helped us.  It only took about 15-20 minutes to catch Zane whereas it might have taken much longer.

At least now the landlords know why I'm so nervous about the dogs getting loose.  Arran is easy to catch, but Zane is a real stinker.

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