The good news is that less than a month after filling out the forms, Turk and I had our renewed passports in our hot little hands. We were now free to take off and follow our dreams to exotic ports and distant lands at a moment's notice, limited only by our wildest imaginings and the contents of our Washington Mutual bank account, which as it turns out is fairly limiting indeed. But that is not the bad news.
The bad news is the passport photo. Specifically, my passport photo, or as I have come to think of it, Exhibit One; irrefutable proof that I am, well frankly, just not that young anymore.
Yes, I know, I know. No one is, least of all me. And I had it coming, after all ~ I have not exactly been a paragon of virtue; long nights and dry martinis do not a youthful complexion maintain. Still, 10 years is a long time between photos, but not that long. It's no Ice Age. So how is it, then, that my face seems suddenly to be sliding, glacier-like, off of my skull and in the general direction of my shoulders? Or breastbone, as the case may be, which should work out just fine as soon there will be nothing there to break its fall. My knees are still in the same place as far as I can tell, although somewhat more dimpled than I remember. Gravity and gravy are having their way with me.
Perhaps that's why the broad-beamed smile of the earlier shot has given way to a rather more cynical smirk in the later. It could be that wisdom and experience simply do not sit well upon this mildewed brow. Or maybe my mother was right all along, and I kept making that face until it finally froze that way.
Whatever the cause, none of this seems to have remotely affected my husband; Turk's pictures look for all the world like they may have been taken on the very same day. I'm pretty sure it's the same golf shirt. His very expression is identical from decade to decade, although his eyesight may be becoming questionable. When I showed him the offending photograph he, oblivious to my horror, smiled and exclaimed, "That's my pretty baby!" It's a blatant lie, of course. I'm old enough to know better. But I'm also old enough to know it'll have to do. In fact, it'll do quite nicely.
And wipe that smirk off your face before it freezes like that. You've been warned.
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7 comments:
When a husband tells his wife how good she looks, it's never a lie, promise!
If you think your face has slid southward, have you looked at your boobs lately? Pretty soon I'll have to hike mine out of the way to zip my pants...
You think you've got it bad? Somehow, my passport has my father's face on it.
P.S. My old singlemanwriting link now brings your readers to some pornlover's site.
OMG ~ you're not kidding! No wonder AOL didn't want me! ;D
Really have got to do some spring cleaning around here. Although maybe a porn link would improve my readership. Perhaps I shouldn't be too hasty...
Someone said free porn at G's place so I rushed right over. :-D
I think Cartoony you has never looked better. If my portrait of you comes out vaguely familiar would I be considered a cheater?
---just wondering.
now I'm off to finish downloading something that I don't think I actually needed to do in the first place. hmph!
Let's just not talk about how far south things can slide. If my drawl were as deep south as the rest of me,no one would understand a word I said.
hahah - I'm definitely not laughing at the demise of your photo-bility. I'm so right there with you. You've just reminded me that I have to update my expired passport. I'm afraid. Very afraid.
I love your before and after photos. They're awesome, pretty baby!
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