I had a bad dream last night. Well, it was more disturbing than bad, really. Well, no... it was bad. But before I tell you about it, I have a question for you... you know how you can see someone (usually a woman) dressed or made-up in a way that is completely inappropriate for her body type or age and you think, 'My eyes! My eyes!' Heh heh. Just kidding. Sort of. No really, you think, 'Good lord, doesn't she have a mirror?! Can't she see what I see?!'
Yeah. I used to do that.
Then? I found out that mirrors lie. They do.
Last summer, the Republican and I went to this place here called The Frontier Culture Museum. It's cool, really... working farms that depict what life was like during various periods in US history. I think I've told you that the Republican is a photographer, right? He's actually a forensic photographer now but he's made a living for a long time taking pictures of lots of stuff and lots of people. He's good. Anyway, The Frontier Culture Museum is a great place to take pictures and that's what we did. I took pictures of the houses and flowers and farm animals (the sheep and lambs especially, as I love me some wool!). What I didn't know was that while I was taking pictures of those things, the Republican was taking pictures of me.
See, I don't like having my picture taken. I never have. Well, so I'm told, anyway (it's entirely possible that my parents made that up to explain why there are 4,512 pictures of my older brother and only 2 of me... whatever). Regardless, I don't like it now and do my very best to stay on the other side of the camera. If I have to be photographed, though, I prefer pictures that don't capture all of me, or ones that have someone else standing in front of me, and I always have to stand a certain way, to minimize the... well, just to minimize. But when I don't know the pictures are being taken? Gulp.
So, after we got back to the Republican's house, he loaded all his pictures onto his computer and we were looking at them. Imagine my surprise (and by 'surprise', I mean 'horror') when I saw images of me, taken from all angles, without any sort of camouflage or posing. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say I felt ill. At first I wondered who that fat woman was... and then, after I realized it was me, I wondered what the hell was wrong with my mirror! How had I not seen all that... all that... ME?!
I joined Weight Watchers very soon after. And I've never looked back. I can't, as the pictures still make me feel sick. I had the Republican send them to me, as we're supposed to have a 'before' picture for WW... but I don't know that I'll ever be able to print one of them out and look at it without wanting to hurl.
So, back to my dream. I'd had a picture taken of me and I was excited to see it, as I've lost about 632 pounds so far, but when I got it? My face was still fat! In fact, I had the whole pelican neck thing going on... you know, where your chin disappears into your neck and your face becomes this big, bloated blobby thing and you look like Jabba the Hutt. The weird thing, though? My face, even at my worst, never looked liked that. It definitely got rounder but I always had a chin (or two) and a neck... and they were always separate. So it was disturbing and bad and I woke up all worried that I really hadn't lost the weight I thought I had.
But my mirror told me otherwise.
I guess I'd better have someone take a picture.