Did you even look at yourself before you walked out of the house?

I have often wondered what people are thinking when they dress themselves in the morning and step out of the house. It is like there were no mirrors in the place, and stuff was just haphazardly thrown together in the hopes (or not) that everything would look ok. On days that I go into work and have to interact with people who, generally speaking, can string more than four-word-sentences together and cut their own food, I try to look halfway decent. The sweats and ball cap that are my usual uniform when I have children in tow are cast aside three days of the week for more stylish (or so I thought) attire. I actually comb my hair, put on make-up, and give the facade that I might actually know what I am doing when it comes to blending into the adult world.

So last week, with my poker straight hair (I love to iron it out as it is naturally curly, and in this Vancouver rain it may as well be a brillo pad), carefully applied face paint and newly purchased outfit, I thought I was lookin pretty stylin. I even had a few complements at work. Nice. It happened to be the kickoff day for United Way fundraising, so there was lots of food and cameras around (for once, I was not behind said cameras). Yesterday while checking my work e-mail, there was a post from one of the organizers and photo takers, providing a link to a page where there were a few pics posted of the day's festivities.

How is it that I can look in the mirror, think I look ok and somewhat human, yet look like complete and utter crap in a picture? It was like the camera was playing a bad joke and purposely distorted how I looked just to piss me off. What's worse, everyone else in the photo looked fine. YIKES. Maybe I should be taking a better look at myself before I step out of the house.