For those of you who have been wanting to see me: what I look like, in the flesh, as it were...
I've finally found a picture of me that I sort of don't mind.
I'm not narcissistic, you see. At least I don't think so...
I don't like having photographs, my photograph actually, taken: I always hate how I look.
...Don't we all?!
How awful is that?
You'll rarely see me out of doors without a faceful of slap; Schminke, make-up on.
This is me sans slap.
I took it by myself, with my webcam, for my profile on FaceSlapBook.
My living room has been newly decorated. The lick of golden paint and candlelight suits me. I shrugged back my golden hair as it was looking particularly like rats' tails.
I do HAVE hair!
...Anyhoo, I wanted to show off my silver bracelet of treasures. The newest bead, jade green, was given to me by a dear friend for helping her (so little!) with her dissertation, and for which I learned this week she had received a commendation. Wowza!
She is a treasure too, and I now have a pretty bead to remember her beauty, goodness, brightness and kindness to me by...
In this picture, I have a favoured purple dress on. - I feel like a little girl when I'm wearing it. It has a bow at the back. My 'reins', GJ - the current husband - calls them.
I have my 'Girl With A Pearl Earring', earrings in! Very Scarlett, non?!
I so rarely feel feminine. I've too much of the lumpen proletariat cart-horse about me, you see.
I'm nearly 47. Next month, the clock will chime midnight and the years will notch one up on me, scribe those wrinkles around my eyes a little more deeply... It's time to embrace who I am.
If I don't like me who will?
It's either that, or lopping off the years, like you do with old cars - Turning back the clock, as it were!
...Hope you like me.