curses! curses!

I don't photograph well. One day, I decided to stick my face in front of the mirror and find my elusive best angle. Tedious job that was. I had floundered my way through life dodging cameras. When it couldn't be avoided, I just made sure I didn't sit beside somebody cuter.

One time, I was watching shallow TV and saw Kim Kardashian sharing her secrets on how to look good in photos. A mind-blowing display of acuity. Suck in the gut. Stretch the neck. One hand on hip, one arm slack down the side. Hair draped across one shoulder. One knee slightly bent. Feet facing specific points on the compass. Body turned at a precise angle from the camera. Hey, vanity doesn't come without a price.

However, I don't think I have such good memory to remember all her words of wisdom, nor the patience to execute them all for every single snapshot. There must be an easier way...

My schoolmate Winnie told me that her awkward stage lasted several years. Now, see, that is a big, fat lie. She was always beautiful. She was never snotty in grade school, or lanky and pimply in her teens. She just suffered from allergies as a kid, and was slender and had sensitive skin in high school. And running into her at the mall yesterday, I'm beginning to believe that there must be some sick humor behind this divine machination because she's even lovelier now approaching her 40s--- more mellow and relaxed, maybe a couple of pounds heavier but in places where, in the perfect world, they ought to be.

And my entire gawky existence is documented and immortalized in a slew of photographs taken over the years.

Curse Facebook and its "tag" feature.