The problem was I haven’t allowed anyone (including my husband) to take a photo of me since I graduated from library school and those photos are about as obtainable as evidence of WMDs in Iraq or decent Chinese food in Portland.
I had what I thought was the perfect excuse for such reticence: my scheme of losing massive amounts of weight, then calling Annie Leibovitz, providing her with the career-defining opportunity of photographing me, thus destroying once and for all the librarian stereotype for The Good of the Profession. Funny thing is, it still hasn’t happened. So I punted.
I called a friend of a friend, one who I met sometime ago and a fantastic photographer. She generously agreed to take on the project at the last minute and lavished me with quite a few photos. There’s only one problem: none of them seem to be of me. Sure, they are pictures of a librarian, but I have my doubts, namely:
- There is absolutely no way a human being can resemble a vaguely Asian Pillsbury Doughboy
- Though the person pictured is obviously a fortysomething, I know for a fact that in our three-dimensional plane of existence, there’s no doubt I don’t look a day over 25.
- I know for a fact that I do not have a double chin. A persistent (and pesky) shadow underneath my face perhaps, but no double chin.
Want to know what I look like? Go to ACRL next April, pick up a program and look for the picture of someone who looks like a cataloger who’s just been politely asked to squeeze into a pair of Heatherette skinny denim jeans before their Powerpoint presentation on the implications of 13-digit ISBNs.
Mea Culpa Dept: You may have noticed in my last posting that the 5:38 entry didn’t make any sense (heck, most of you would argue most of my postings don’t make any sense, but that’s neither here nor there at the moment), an occupational hazard when one decides to work on their blog at 1:00 am. I’ve now corrected it in the hopes that it will induce slide-splitting hilarity into your workday. Or at least a jaded snort into your coffee cup….