The first reaction to a photo that you're in.
My hair is weird. I look so tired. My butt looks huge. My face is all broken out.
I have been going through Ellyn's wedding pictures because Amie (who I might link to if she ever bothered blogging) left me copies of them before we parted. (She did a beautiful job, by the way).
I asked Amie to send a picture that I knew Ron took of me, Candy, Ellyn, and Amie (who I might link to if she ever bothered blogging). After Sara died, the four of us and Alece started a GroupMe group so chat so as to stop Twitter-bombing everyone's feeds. We are basically in constant communication, texting throughout the day and night with probably the most random and ridiculous assortment of conversations you could possibly imagine.
These are some of my very favorite people. And they all live so far away.
So although Alece and Sara couldn't be there, this is the closest to "the whole group" we had ever had in one place. I don't remember many other times where I felt as giddy, as happy, as fulfilled, as right, as when all four of us were in the same room together. So when Amie sent the photo this morning, I got all the warm fuzzies I had when it was taken.
|Three of my favorite people in the world. And I actually got to be in the same room with them for a little while.|
Of course, as soon as Amie posted it, Candy said "Man, I look well traveled." And then Amie said "I look squished. I should have turned." I immediately told them to shut up and then posted a passive-aggressive tweet about them, because that's how I roll.
(Side note: as I was writing this very blog post, Ellyn complained about herself in another photo. I swear, these people.)
But honestly, I get it. The first thing I looked for in the photos of me was the infamous arm/boob fat that comes along with strapless dresses.
|I'm not going to lie, I will probably Photoshop my arm a little bit at some point.|
(Now that your wedding is over, Ellyn, I can tell you that I hate wearing strapless dresses, which is a testament to how much I love you to have worn that bridesmaid dress.)
I have spent the last 10 months, and will probably spend the rest of my life, kicking myself for not having jumped in the car and driven 12 hours to Iowa, even if I had to do it alone instead of with the two sickies. If I had a picture of myself sitting next to Sara on her bed instead of next to her on a Skype screen? I don't care how crappy I looked; I would cherish it.
The fact that I have a photo of three of my favorite people in the same room is important to me. Of COURSE I can find my flaws in every one of these photos, but the moment wins over the flaws.
After all, you can Photoshop your flaws out, but you certainly can't Photoshop the moments in.