If you read my blogs you will know that I am just coming off of Dance Weekend. Despite the fact that the only part of my body that does not ache right now is my elbows, I had a great time...right up until the time that my dance buddies started posting pictures on Facebook.
The first set of pictures was OK. For some reason, one of the photographers took a lot of pictures of my backside, but I don't really blame him, because my bottom is so alluring.
That's my backside on the left below the black tank top in the turquoise flowered skirt. (No, not the blonde featured prominently in the foreground. That's a lovely woman named Millie. I'm behind her and to the left. You may have to squint. Yes, that's it.) I like how the woman in the pink shirt is hiding a lot of my upper body so I look half as big. Please try not to notice that I appear to be on the wrong foot. I choose to believe that every other woman in the room is on the wrong foot, instead.
Then there were some pictures of my face. I looked tired. I looked sweaty, but overall, I looked no better or worse than the next tired, sweaty guy. My favorite picture of me was this one:
I'm front and center between the two guys. Can I twirl fast or what?
But then there was this picture:
Yikes! First of all, how many chins do I have here, anyway? Secondly, why does my shape have no shape? I have shape in the backside pictures. Thirdly, what the heck is going on with my hair? Fourthly, what was I thinking with that brown t-shirt?
So, of course, my first impulse is to hide this picture and beg the photographer to remove it from Facebook, delete it from his camera, and possibly run over the camera with a truck for good measure. But then I thought, who cares? Sometimes we don't always look good. Sometimes, in fact, we look fat and hot and sweaty and horrible. Sometimes our bodies look like potatoes on toothpicks. But sometimes our backside looks very alluring. And, besides, I do appear to be having a heck of a good time.