So, umm...I hate having my picture taken. Hate it. Haaaaaate it. I usually only photograph allright when I am somewhat intoxicated. Evidently "Drunk-Ass Bimbo" is a good look for me.
But The Man and I went in and got haircuts today, and he must have slipped the stylist a fifty or something, because all of a sudden, instead of the pretty, sleek blowout I usually get, my stylist whipped out the diffuser and just went to town.
A DIFFUSER, people. Like Alyssa Milano used circa "Who's The Boss."
Anyway, if you've never seen one, it looks kinda like you're blow-drying your hair with a megaphone.
While it did take some self-styling afterwards, the guy somehow re-created my high school hairstyle, and at least I don't look too much like a poodle. Woo!
So it's a few hours later. We came back from a yummy dinner at Claim Jumpers, and I am just sitting there on the couch, in my lounging sweatshirt thingie, and we've just finished watching "Girl With a Pearl Earring" (which we really enjoyed, by the way.)
Evidently, the curly hair has made The Man insane, because he started gazing at me and saying things about my "mischevious little nose" and then busted out the digital camera.
AAAAaAAAaaAaaaaaaa!
I froze. I sulked. I made faces. I threw pillows at him. I finally begged him to PLEASE allow me to cover up the chin zits, at least.
Anyway, I finally relaxed enough to take pictures where I don't look stunned, pissed off, or laminated.
Wish me luck- I have a sneaking suspicion that the Christmas photos are happening tomorrow.
If you want to see the rest of the photo session, they are HERE. You can tell that I finally loosened up and started to have fun. Yeeeehaw!
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