A couple of weeks ago, I was lazily flipping through our soon-to-be-defunct base paper when an image startled me so much it made me jump.
It was me!
It was a picture of me surrounded by copy about me directing people to my "other blog". I only mention it because it surprised me so. And it made me feel a little dirty. Like I'm a whore, paid to write drivel and then promoted without my knowledge, consent, or support.
But, hey. The fact that they used my little blog head shot makes Patrick a published photographer.
So I felt a little gun shy while I was perusing the last issue of the paper. I turned every page sort of half-hoping not to see my ugly mug, yet half-hoping that my employer at least finds my drivel worth advertising for another week. (Gotta keep those Carrie Bradshaw-esq checks rolling in.)
I thought I was prepared to see myself again upon turning each page, but no. This time I gasped when my face came into view.
This ad was larger. Or at least it was wider. My face certainly was so.
Someone doesn't know about maintaining photo proportions. My photo was stretched by width, but not by height.
And I appeared in the historic last issue of our base paper with its seventy-five year history looking like Jabba the Hut.