Bonfires of trust, flashfloods of paaaaain

Weird day. I forced myself out of bed at noon to go meet a family friend who's a professional photographer, and he took some professional photos of me. I have no idea why. It was my mother's idea.

I didn't expect the whole thing to be so intensely psychological. My tendency is to look like there's been a death in the family when somebody points a camera at me. That is, if I'm trying to look human at all, which I'm usually not. I'm usually trying to look marsupial. So Mike (the photographer) kept telling me to think of good things, because the camera picks that stuff up even if you're not smiling. Like for example, he said to imagine "he's just walked in and he looks great, and you want him to know it's okay to come over and talk to you".

But fuck that. So I thought of three things, three happy thoughts (you're doing it, Peter!) to get me through it. One: The standing rock at the beach on Saturna and the inevitable LEAP... INTO... THE DEEP. Two: My friends standing in the studio, doing things to try and make me laugh but I can't laugh. Three: My dog receiving attention from any one of those friends, and giving me her bedroom-eyed sucky look because of it.

Once we left the studio I became much less self-conscious and didn't have to use so many tricks. We went to the downtown eastside for the texture of certain brick walls (or something) and everyone that passed by would make a joke at my expense, but in a nice way. One guy kept trying to distract me by banging his water bottle on a telephone pole, but I didn't fall for it because I'm America's Next Top Model. Then a trolley car doing a tour of Gastown stopped and rang its fake trolley bell at us, and the tour guide made everyone look at me. It was nightmarish but also funny and kind of helpful. I needed the distraction.

Anyway, Mike was a nice guy. Hopefully one or two of the pictures turn out good, and not just my mother's opinion of good, which is wacky. Then I'll show you what I'm talking about and we'll all go on with our lives.

I'll be getting up early tomorrow to babysit Ivy. IVY. I haven't seen her in ages. It's going to be bonkers. Bonkers, I say.