I identify a little too closely with Calvin, yet at the same time, also with Calvin's parents.
Photographs + me don't mesh.
It would not be an exaggeration to say I hate getting my picture taken. As soon as I see a camera pointed in my direction, I instinctively turn around, put my hand up in front of the lens, or pull a ridiculous face.
To catch me, I can't know you're there... and as my camera-addicted mother & sister would tell you, most of the pictures of me are when I'm eating, drinking, or am in the middle of speaking (I am an expressive talker...), so I tend to look like I am either having a seizure, or am horrendously drunk. Or both. Yeah, definitely both.
As you can imagine, many years of this kind of photographic evidence has done nothing to decrease my aversion to cameras...
SO, a couple weeks ago, I took about 15 self-portraits on my phone, mainly because I was in a super good mood due to the grey, overcast skies and the ankle-deep deposits of crispy maple leaves...
...and they all sucked.
Either I'm not smiling at all, or have that horribly-contrived-rictus-grin that causes viewers to shudder involuntarily and squeeze their eyes shut on the mistaken belief that it will somehow scrub the memory from their eyeballs/brains.
So, you get this temporary (and possibly more terrifying than any Halloween ghostie or beastie) picture, from when I was frustrated and decided that one last shot would happen before I gave up:
I fully attest that Jericho Beach has been invaded by evil squirrels.
Believe me when I tell you this was the best in the lot... the *second-best* now sits in its temporary residence (with classic-stiffly-no-smile-strained-expression, or, as I like to call it, what-you-get-when-you-ask-me-to-smile-for-a-camera) on my new 'About' page.
Yes, I will attempt to get a better photo at some point.
Yes, I know this was promised months ago...
...and yes, I did give you a warning in the post's title. Feel free to wash your eyes out and call an optician.