I feel like I’m obligated to take at least one picture of myself every couple of months, if only to prove to you that I’m not dead and ghostblogging.

Possibly, my favorite purchase of the past few weeks.

Geordi spends most of the issue in a Hawaiian shirt.

I don’t know why I dug these old, busted glasses out. Maybe because I’m going blind? Maybe because I feel old and stagnant and lonely and I’m tired of myself and desperate for a change of any kind whatsoever, no matter how small? Sure.

Also, I’ve run out of interesting ways to take my own picture with a webcam.

I think I got a haircut.

I think I need a haircut.

And, while I’m being completely narcissistic, have this.

EDIT: Wait, why do my teeth look really fucked up? I swear, I’m not actually missing any.

I just took the first pictures I’ve taken of myself since Mom died.

Does my healthy grieving process make me look fat?

Can… Can I post another picture? Just this once? I promise I won’t do it again. I just felt like I could do much better than the poorly lit, (in my opinion) unflattering picture I posted earlier. Pardon my egomaniacal self-indulgence. My face will leave you alone now.

Despite my previous claims of being pretty today, I’m not feeling particularly photogenic. (Affleck? Damon? No. Gottfried, perhaps.) Nonetheless, since my dearest Breanna demanded “pics,” I must now provide said pictures, lest my beardlessness become something that “didn’t happen.” See, I like my face and would like this nakedness to continue being something that did, indeed, happen. Anyway, please enjoy some more of my inadequate lighting.

GPOYW, “I’m Sure I Was Bob Dylan’s Target Audience” Edition

Current status: Not having it.

You know, I think I subconsciously arch my eyebrows in photos because I’m trying to close the gap between my eyebrows and my hair caused by my receded hairline. I think I managed to reduce it to from a fivehead to a four-point-fivehead. I swear, it doesn’t look that bad in public.

Also, I apologize for the lighting. I’m not big on bright lights, so I abuse Christmas lights year ‘round. It’s great in-person, but they play hell with the quality of in-photo lighting. I look like a lobster, a lobster lounging sexily on his bed and trying to look semi-attractive.

This is how I feel today. (Though, admittedly, this picture is from several weeks ago, pre-haircut.) That is the face of unemployment, directionlessness, loneliness (ignore that; I don’t want to lose any more followers), a lack in marketable skills, and a hunger for adventure and stimulation. In layman’s terms, SOFUCKINGRESTLESS. Or AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I wish I could figure out how to be one of those proactive individuals who can easily identify their problem(s) and quickly set out to fixing them.

But I have no idea how to be that kind of person. That personality type is wholly strange and alien to me. And so, right now, I’m going to go outside and shovel snow. Not because it needs to be shoveled, but because I need to shovel it.

Hey, I’m finally doing a GPOYW! That’s almost relevant to someone somewhere! I took a gnarly “before” photo the other week, so I figured I should procure a camera and take an “after” shot. Though, honestly, my haircut is terrible and I need to get another one. So it goes.

merelywires:

This is going to be an amazing year.  I don’t need to do a whole write-up on it.  I don’t need to make resolutions.

I just know it.

It will be. I’m going to make myself believe it too. Go Team Optimism!

(And I looooove your outfit, there!)