On Monday I had to take my senior portraits, right? So we go to the studio at 11 to get our pictures taken. First, I have to get this drape picture done for the yearbook.
For the rocord, I don't like tube tops and never will. But they *really* bug me when they look and feel like an old towel that needs to be thrown back in the washing machine. Eew...one of the tube tops that was sitting in this heap in the dressing room had lipstick stains on it. Gross! So anyway, I put the yucky thing on and get my pictures taken by this very nice lady who I'd met earlier in the year when she did Prom. Yes. I did not mind that so much, although she and her assitant kept playing with my hair and that was driving me nucking futz. Ferreal. And then she kept having to tell me to "tilt my head, but not so much, to the left, to the right, a little more, a li-i-i-i-ttle more"...YAAAAAUGH!
Anyway, she wasn't half as bad as the next shoot I had, in which I was wearing a green tank top. The minute I walked in, this old guy asks me whether I want to take my picture in front of ivy or bricks. (Answer: They're both ugly!) I end up in front of the bricks because the green would make me blend in with the ivy. Then this other photographer who is about 40 years younger than the first guy (thirties?) sets up a director's chair and wants me to sit with my legs over the side but my arm twisted around in the other direction or *something*...talk about confused, I didn't get what he wanted at all, so he came over and started twisting and turning me like he thought I was made of pipe cleaners or something. And then *he* played with my hair, too! Why can't they leave my hair alone?
So finally the young guy is done positioning me (I feel like a bloody*barbie*doll) and I'm relieved because I think I'll finally be done with this photo shoot. But NO! The older guy, who was adjusting the camera, has to come over and tell me to bend my hand a certain way, a way that I am not capable of bending my hand - so this guy spends five minutes trying to get me to bend my hand back and I keep thinking he's going to break it and I'm scared.
Eventually the guy takes his pictures and the shoot is done. Which was good, because I was really sick of being poked and prodded. So Kris and I went to McDonald's and then the Santa Teresa Library. Then Kitty met us and we went to her house to play.
Very fun. It's always good to see Kitty - especially because she doesn't PLAY WITH MY HAIR!