Showing posts with label a day in the life of. Show all posts
Showing posts with label a day in the life of. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Self Image versus Reality

I think it's pretty obvious to you, dear reader, that I'm not camera shy.


Examples of My Non-Shyness
1. My willingness to Photoshop myself into compromising positions, as in my recent post about an embarrassing grocery store encounter.

2. My self-photographed reenactment of the murder of a spider in my living room.
3. The fact that I posted the video in this blog, despite being sick and looking like something my cat spit up.
4. Who's not afraid to dance an Irish jig, take a picture of it, and post it for the world to see? That's right, me.
5. Would you ever record yourself trying to do The Rock Eyebrow and put it on YouTube? If not, you're probably camera shy. I'm not.


And there are probably 50 more where those examples came from.


Examples aside, for every picture you see published here on AbbyGabs, there are 35 more that never see the light of day. I analyze every single photograph, whether Photoshopped or not, before I use it. There are several key components that a publishable photo must have before it's considered for use on this blog:


1. How obvious is my double chin?
2. Can you see my chipped front tooth from this angle?
3. Nose hairs/boogers/zits visible?
4. How do my shoulders look? Normal or linebacker-ish?
5. Arm flab within the frame?
6. How tubby are my cheeks looking here...adorably pinchable or Chipmunk chunky?
7. Cleavage? If so, No-No!


If these things are present in a photo, or if they can't be cropped out/covered with a graphic/fixed in Photoshop then that photo is discarded.


I think most people would assume that, because I do photograph myself so much for this blog, or because of the copious amounts of pictures I upload to Facebook/Twitter on a regular basis, that I have no reservations about myself being photographed. The truth is, I love taking pictures, recording memories, and sharing them with friends. As much as I want to take a picture, I want to be in a picture. I like having visual, tangible evidence of this life that I'm living.


That being said, don't think for a second that I don't have insecurities about my body, or the way I appear to other people.


Let me see if I can make it clear using a photograph of myself and my husband--a photo that we've gotten nothing but compliments on, that has served us well as a Facebook profile pic over the years, that currently resides in a frame just inches from my fingertips at this moment.



Here's what you see: Happy. Rested. Love. Relaxed.


Here's what I see:






Let me clarify this by saying that I love this photo. It was taken at Wrightsville Beach, during one of our more memorable vacations. It reminds me of what a wonderful time we had on that trip, and I think we both look relaxed and happy.


However, I'm constantly critical over myself and how I look.


Every woman has had that moment when they see their reflection in a store window or mirror and they think, "Wow, I was feeling so much cuter than I'm really looking right now." Or the let-down of a much-anticipated photograph being less than you'd hoped it would be. 


Here's another example. I went to a friend's wedding not too long ago, and I got all dressed up for the first time in ages. I felt so great about myself. I loved my dress, my shoes, my jewelry, my accessories. I felt fashionable, put-together, sexy. So I captured the moment in a self-portrait.






When I looked back on this photo a few days later, I saw this:




And yes, I still had the wall-o'-boobs and the shelf butt, despite the Spanx.


As a woman, insecurities about your body can crop up at any time of the day. No matter where you are, what you're doing, or what celebrity is following you on Twitter, those evil little Insecurity Beasties can crop up, stripping you of what little shred of self confidence you had the day before.




But here's the thing: I won't let those little Beasties keep me from being present in my own life. I always have that moment of "Hmmm...I'm lookin' less than great today. Maybe I should  do a post without pictures today." But then, I realize that the essence of my blog involves story-telling in the way I do it best:


Full-color, bold, silly, and fully illustrated.


It's 100% my style. And I won't let my insecurities keep me from it, even when my self image doesn't match up with reality. Because I know I'm more critical of myself, in every aspect of my life, than anyone else.


And truly, some of those examples listed at the top of this post are some of my favorites I've ever written. If I'd let my insecurities keep me from using silly pictures of myself in the name of comedy, I wouldn't have those posts to look back on and laugh at now.


So, take that insecurity beasties. I'm kickin' your booties today.




PS: Having the same sort of day? Want an inspirational photoshop picture of yourself karate chopping the poo outta some insecurity beasties? Drop me a line, and a photo of yourself, and I'll work my magic. And yes, it's FREE!!!

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Comparisons

A Day In the Life of Me (Abby)


7:45 am: Alarm goes off. Bladder is uncomfortably full. Smack the snooze button, convince my bladder it can wait 30 more minutes, go back to sleep.


7:55 am: Alarm goes off again. Bladder now fit to bursting. Waddle to the bathroom, empty my bladder, return to bed.


7:56 am: Feel someone staring at me. Open my eye a crack and see this:


Dizzy thinks sleeping is a team sport.
7:56 and a half am: Realize, in this moment, that my plan to sleep till 8:30 is never going to happen. Sigh, scratch Dizzy's head, get back out of bed.


8:00 am: Turn on shower, lean head against wall, and sleep standing up for five full minutes.


8:05 am - 8:45 am: Shower, dress, accessorize. Add some eyeliner and mascara and I'm ready for the day.


8:46 am: Look at the clock, realize the day has barely started and I already miss my husband.


8: 47 am: Pine for my husband.


8:59 am: Trudge to the office, sigh, open the door, change the sign from CLOSED to OPEN, turn on my phone, and prepare for the drudgery to begin.


9:00 am to 9:45 am: Process letters, return phone calls, answer emails, and other sundry boring office duties.


9:46 am: Throw a shoe at the cats, who have been meowing incessantly since 8:03 am for their breakfast. Finally break down and just feed them so they'll shut up, even though I'm *supposed* to feed them at 10.


10:00 am to 11:00 am: Various household chores, which is boring, so I'll make something up to entertain you: this is when I bathe and brush my unicorn. He thanks me with glitter and rainbows.


11:01 am: It's AbbyGabs time! Yay!


11:02 am - whenever I'm done: Look for pictures, play around with Photoshop, Twitter-stalk Donnie Wahlberg, get distracted by Facebook and Youtube, finally come up with a blog topic and bang it out in thirty minutes or less.  Also, intermittently answer the phone, provide the same 4 answers to the same 4 questions I get asked everyday, process a few payments, and wish I had a PhD in something, or else a nice quiet farm where I could write without being disturbed.


Approximately 2:00 pm: Proudly publish my blog, and think "Wow, Brian is really gonna laugh at this one." Look at the clock, realize it's only 2:00, and that I still miss my husband.


2:01 pm: Pine for my husband.


2:02 pm - 4:36 pm: Find ways to make the day go by faster, while also continuing to answer the phone and answer the same 4 questions again and again. Watch TV, think about Donnie Wahlberg, check my Netflix account to see when my next Gilmore Girls DVD is going to be delivered, check my watch a thousand times, and finally settle down with a book.


4:37 pm: Phone rings and I know immediately it's my afternoon "Boss Phonecall." I answer HIS four questions that he asks me every day at 4:37 pm. Then I listen to him ramble about Chick-Fil-A coupons/the price of batteries at Walgreens/the method by which he changed his oil/something about his mother-in-law's feet (I tuned this one out)/the auction he won on eBay, where he saved approximately 4 cents from retail price on shoe strings. 


4:57 pm: Hang up the phone, pretend to shoot myself in the head with my hand, which isn't a gun but we're pretending. Look at the clock and dance a jig. It's almost 5:00!!


4:58 pm: Dance another jig because it's closer to 5:00!


4:59 pm: Hand is now poised on the door knob, ready to snatch the door open to flip the sign.


5:00 pm: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! Unicorn and I dance happily as we flip the sign, lock the door, turn off the phone, and close up for the day.


5:01 pm: Pine for my husband, again, who would be rejoicing right along with me and Unicorn.


5:02 pm - 5:30 pm: Quickly process end-of-day paperwork, feed the cats, change into my jammies and find my favorite spot on the couch.


5:31 pm - 7:30 pm: If Netflix is on my side, Gilmore Girls marathon. If not, reruns of Cops/make jewelry/crochet/read/enjoy the fact that I'm NOT working.


7:31 pm: Flip it over to Jeopardy, pine for my husband who loves Jeopardy. Then I remember I'm having tuna casserole for dinner, and I dance a little jig because I LOVE fish, and hubby HATES it. 


8:00 pm - 10:30 pm: Dinner (Tuna Casserole, yay!), more Gilmore Girls (or other methods of time-wasting), 800 texts to my husband telling him how much I miss him.


10:31 pm: Power down household (ie: turn off all electronic devices, plug in cell phone and laptop, and head to bed.)


10:35 pm: Bedtime routine consists of brushing teeth, washing face, laying out clean jammies for the hubby (who will stumble home sometime after midnight, smelling like gin--because he's a bartender, not an alcoholic--and money. Hopefully. If it was a good night.)


10:45 - 11:30 pm. Ish. : Read. Every night. Without fail. It's why I have a hundred and seventeen thousand books.


11:31 pm: Set my alarm for 7:45 am, knowing I'll hit the snooze button, turn out the light, and snuggle in for a good night's sleep.


11:35 pm: Feel someone staring at me. I open my eye a crack and see this:




"Mom, is it bedtime?"
11:36 pm: Snuggle up with a purring kitty by my side and drift off into dreamland.




A Day in the Life of Dizzy:


7:55 am: Wake up. Realize I'm hungry. Find Mom.


7:56 am: Stare at Mom.


8:00 am - 9:45 am: Prowl kitchen, jump on Mom's paperwork, scratch at carpet, and other various things that annoy Mom until she feeds us. Also, meowing a lot works, too.


9:46 am: Duck shoe.


9:47 - 10:00 am: Eat my well-deserved, much-worked-for breakfast.


10:01 am - 12:00 pm: Morning nap.


12:01 pm - 2:00 pm: Early afternoon nap.


2:01 pm - 4:00 pm: Mid-afternoon nap.


4:01 pm - 4:36 pm: Trip to litter box and water bowl. Chase Scooter out of the bathroom. Snuggle with Harry. Bathtime.


4:37 pm: Sit on desk and stare at Mom while she holds the phone to her ear and rolls her eyes a lot.


4:57 pm - 5:01 pm: Dodge Mom's dancing feet. Start meowing for dinner.


5:26 pm - 5:49 pm:  Happily eat my dinner while Mom races around the house trying to finish all her stuff so she can relax.


6:00 pm - 7:59 pm: Early evening nap.


8:00 pm: MOM'S HAVING TUNA! SPAZZ OUT!!!!


8:15  pm - 9:00 pm: Late evening nap.


9:01 pm - 10:35 pm: Pre-bedtime nap.


10:36 pm - 10:44 pm: Sit on bed and stare at door, waiting on Mom.


10:45 pm - 11:30 pm: Attempt everything possible to make Mom put down book and scratch my head, including pushing book with my head, nudging head underneath book to look adoringly at Mom, lying in front of book on Mom's chest, and batting bookmark with paw.


11:35 pm:  Stare at Mom until she puts her arm around me and we fall asleep, snuggling.