My Life In Passport Photographs

It is not a pretty story.

I looked my best when I was five, I'm sure of it now. The reason I am so sure is because the only passport picture I have where I do not look like something is seriously wrong with me, is from from the time when I was five.

I can travel through time with my passport photographs and what a dismal journey it is. Yes, there was that brief glimmer of hope when the eyebrows were shaped and  my unruly hair settled down. Ish. But after that, it's all been downhill. I've looked like a frumpy housewife, butch feminist, aide to terrorist organizations, and someone who clearly does not have a sense of humour.

When I think I'm doing my 'subtle smile' that I hope will make my picture look at least a little bit friendly, I come off looking like I'm grimacing in pain. I've tried every version of smiling (harder to do when the official rules won't allow you to actually smile) for passport pictures and just end up with another dismal photograph to add to my already impressive collection.

So as I complete yet another round of visa applications this year, I'll be taking Ms. Mournful to Japan for what I hope will be a fun-filled trip that will make next year's photograph just a little more upbeat.

Hope springs eternal. 

Dance Little Lady

One of my biggest fears is that one day I will dance like an old person.

You know - fists clenched, awkward swaying that has no rhythm, feet shuffling from side to side. It's like something goes off like clockwork, and the minute you hit a certain age (I hesitate to pinpoint what exactly it is) all sense of timing goes out the window.

It seems the only recourse is to sit out the music. Or not give a rat's ass what you look like.
I'll be the one sitting on the fence, tapping my toes and twisting my paper napkin to shreds while I consider making a move.