Ready for my close up

So, I'm mildly obsessed with Sia and am eagerly awaiting her new album. Last week, I discovered her video for "You've Changed" and have been bouncing to it ever since. Watch below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLPPlRDOZx0

This got me thinking about School Picture Day back when I was a little munchkin. I suppose the overall appeal of these particular days was that we (and children banished to school uniforms in a Catholic school) were able to put on our Sunday best. This was always a special treat, even up until high school. Oh, how I remember those days when girls at my high school tramped it up on the weekends because they just "couldn't take" wearing a plaid skirt all of the time.

This all got me thinking about my various adventures in school picture preparation. I took this shit real seriously. My clothes were always laid out the night before (ok, two nights before) and I woke up extra, extra early to ensure my hair was coiffed perfectly. Now, my hair has always been semi-decent...but back then it was the cat's meow. And this was BEFORE hair wax, people!

One year, I believe it was 3rd grade, I discovered a new look. We had the good fortune of having a pool in our backyard and I noticed that every time I got of the pool and had my hair slicked completely back, it would dry into this very stylish bouffant. Yes, I realize a nine year old's use of the word "bouffant" is a clear indicator of where they will be heading in terms of sexual orientation, but lets get our heads out of the gutter, mmkay?

I knew I wanted to have this style in my school picture, so I got up early on the big day, went to the pool, dipped my head in and quickly ran to the bathroom to dry it with a hand dryer. Oh baby, it looked good. I thought I looked like Tom Cruise (pre-"glib" days) or Kirk Fogg from "Legends of the Hidden Temple" or something equally debonair.

*Side note swoon for Kirk Fogg.

Kirk Fogg is the man, by the way.

*End side note and swoon*

I got to school, happily took my picture and awaited their arrival in a few weeks. The entire time I waited, I simply knew my picture looked the best and that no one could top my hair, shirt and tie combination. God, I was a superstar.

Weeks later, the photos arrived. I nearly tore them in half as I opened the package, totally excited about seeing them.

And I saw them. The hair looked fabulous and my smile was to die. My happiness quickly subsided though, as I then I saw it. Caked underneath my nose was an obvious booger. You needed to look really closely, but there it was. It was like the size of a freakin' nickel and I was instantly mortified.

I cursed myself for my vanity and I then I realized who was really at fault here- the photographer. Who lets a chubby kid with perfect hair take a picture with a booger underneath their nose and not say anything?! Who does that?! Clearly someone who didn't watch "Free to Be You and Me" growing up. The horses weren't running free in his land, that's for damn sure. (look up the reference, I'm too upset to at the moment)

I was angry. I was embarrassed. I was hungry.

I vowed from that day on to ensure that every picture taken of me for school would be divine. No one would get in my way. No one. Not even someone holding a taco.

Ok, maybe someone holding a taco.

The next year, it entered the photo session with extra care. No boogers, no marks on my face from the scented marker I probably was trying to eat earlier in the day, nothing. I was good to go.

The same photographer was there, and he said, "You ready, bucko?"

"Yes. But are you?"

"Um yes. That's my job."

"Is it?"

"Yes"

"IS IT?!"

At that, I had made him uncomfortable. And that felt good.