J and I received an email from the UK attorney that's handling our visas telling us all the details on what we need to fill out and submit to get the ball rolling on the visa front. One of the things that we need to turn in is a passport photo. Urg.
Both J and I are NOT photogenic people, and that's putting it mildly. J develops a Clint Eastwood-esque squint, which is accompanied by a tentative half smile. I end up looking somewhere anywhere but at the camera, and I have a pained expression on my face like I'm engaging in an unwanted conversation on a bus with a stranger that I can't end because it would be impolite and my momma didn't raise me that way.
So you would think that to combat the awful government required photo, I would take some preventative measures to compensate for the automatic awfulness that usually ensues. Normally, I would. When I say normally, I mean pre-25. Sometime after age 25, this is what actually happens:
1. Wear the same shirt I wore the night before to sleep in.
2. Eat pie.
3. Take a nap.
4. Wake up and eat more pie.
5. Put on pants.
6. Go to FedEx/ Kinko's and kindly decline the worker's offer of a mirror before I take my photo.
7. Look at my photo, and realize that maybe it would've been a good idea to use the mirror. Or to brush my hair. Oh, and to touch up my makeup post-nap.
8. Cry for about a minute that I've turned into a middle-aged man.
9. Get over it - There's more pie to be eaten!
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