Later, when I read what she'd written, I was officially a Connie-Schultz-Read-Anything-You-Write-Follow-You-Anywhere fan.
Now I follow her on Facebook, where she maintains a lively discourse on today's current events. She's a thoughtful moderator of her posts, keeping the conversation civil but never one-sided.
Today's post was about another author blogging about having to re-model her own looks in order to look presentable on a TV show. This is an author whose female characters rise above this societal pressure, so Connie was shocked and wanted to talk about what makes people want to dissect others according to their own standards, and why we succumb to them?
She asked us to post a picture of ourselves on her comment thread, along with #thisiswhoIam. I scanned through my photos for a picture, one that wasn't professionally taken. The only ones I have of me alone are my pitiful attempts at selfies. I don't take good selfies, and here's why:
|I love my car. Why aren't I happy about it?|
I try to smile, but all I end up with is a look that says, "Pfft. Who do you think you are?"
|"Well? Who are you, little Miss SmartyPants?"|
I finally settled on the one above, but I'm not sure it shows the real me. I'm such a happy gal, it's a shock to know that I have RBF (Resting Bitch Face). There's nothing cute about this. How do the rest of you make your selfies look so appealing? And is there a cure for RBF?
|Attempting a smile. Hurts. Hurts so bad.|