I had to get my picture taken. My photo will run in newspapers across the country alongside what we can only assume will be an amazingly hilarious column, assuming I don’t fail miserably at this task.
I tried to convince the powers that be that I didn’t need to have my photo taken, as readers across America don’t know what I look like, nor do they need to.
I suggested simply substituting a photo of a very attractive woman with great hair and only one chin. Sure, it would be a fleecing of America to some extent, but no more than Milli Vanilli did when they alleged they sang those catchy tunes.
Bah bah bah bah, Baby….don’t forget my numba…
My request to use a body double, or really just a head shot double, was denied. Frickety Frick. We scheduled the photo shoot for the morning, as I’m very important and had places to be, like the Starbucks down the street for my latte.
I didn’t know what to expect for this photo shoot. Would it be like my third grade pictures where I got to choose the background?
The shooting laser background was bad ass and really showed off my mall bangs. Or maybe it would be in front of a green screen and I could decide what my background would be. Polar bears. Duh.
Would there be props? Would I be required to hold a writing utensil to show people I’m a writer? Maybe hold a scribe?
Okay, I’ll admit that I have no idea what a scribe is. I also wondered if the creepy photographer would be there handing out free combs and asking how many wallet sized photos I wanted.
Thinking about all these possibilities made me nervous, especially since I hadn’t picked out what package I wanted.
How many pictures did I want to order? I mean, I would need at least 20 wallet sized photos to pass out to my friends so I could write “LYLAS” on the back along with my super sassy signature. (It means love you like a sis. Try to keep up).
And did I want to order an 8×10 for my office? I had so many questions and I only hoped the photographer would have package options available.
I also hoped he had a stuffed animal he could use to make me laugh. Only the best photographers do.
When I arrived at the photo shoot, I headed to the lobby of the building and looked around for the hair and make up station.
I’ve watched enough episodes of America’s Next Top Model to know that before the shoot you must first go to hair and make up where 15 fabulous men (all named Jay), primp and prod and work on your every flaw.
After a few hours with them, I knew I would emerge as a beautiful goddess. I also knew this was true, because I’ve seen Kim Kardashian before she has her hair and make up done, and she looks like a methed-up hooker who’s been on a serious bender.
I walked around trying to find where I was supposed to be, and was greeted by the photographer.
Immediately I noticed she didn’t have a toy monkey, nor did she have a stuffed animal of any kind. Obviously this photographer wasn’t legit.
Her wind up camera from Walgreens also suggested she wasn’t the expert she asserted she was. Clearly this woman was the assistant, and the ridiculously famous photographer would be along shortly.
I asked where the hair and make up station was located and the imitation photographer looked at me as if I was crazy. She said there was no hair and make up station.
Um, what?! How can that be? How can we have a photo shoot without hair and make up? I then asked where the wardrobe department was, as I wanted to put on something a bit more comfortable as the skirt I was wearing was digging into my gut.
Maybe I should have laid off the cake pops. I didn’t want to appear uncomfortable in the picture, as I feared it would read as constipated.
However, I’m pretty sure any person whose been around me more than 10 minutes discovers that fact the hard way…assuming they have a sense of smell.
She shattered my dream of a comfortable skirt when she told me there was no wardrobe department as well. What kind of photo shoot was this?
Hadn’t she watched TV to know that photo shoots require approximately 100 assistants doting over the star (me)? This lady had a lot to learn about being a photographer’s assistant.
Surely they would have craft services even if they didn’t have hair and makeup or wardrobe.
This girl loves to eat, and the thought of free food laid out for me for consumption on the photo shoot made me very excited. If I’m being perfectly honest, the craft services table is what motivated me to go to the photo shoot that morning…I wanted some peanut M&Ms.
And then the photographer not only crushed my dreams, she stomped all over them and spit on their remains, much like what Hollywood did to Kristin Cavallari’s career.
WHAT?! “Snapping a few pictures?” Wasn’t this a professional shoot for my coming out as a major celebrity?
Charlize Theron wouldn’t be treated this way and neither would I. I think Charlize Theron would have better treatment because not only is she beautiful, but I’m still a little afraid of her after seeing Monster and I think everyone else is too.
I sighed and decided that I just wanted to get these pictures over as soon as possible so I could get on with my super fabulous life, and make sweet love to a blueberry scone from Starbucks.
The assistant photographer turned out to be the actual photographer which was disappointing because when I arrived I handed her my coat and asked her to be a lamb and grab me a latte. It made for a very awkward transition into working together.
After she got me my latte and hung up my coat, we proceeded with the photo shoot, if you could call it that.
She then told me to look serious so she could get a few of those shots. Considering the photographer was wearing a hair scrunchie from the 1990s, I found it quite difficult to keep a serious face, but I managed to do it…you know…for my fans.
After she took a few shots she told me we were done. I asked where the next spot for the photo shoot would be, and she advised the photo shoot was over and I was free to go.
At first I was a little disappointed, as I was hoping for some outdoor shots, preferably under a waterfall. However, then I realized that we didn’t need to take anymore pictures because clearly she got the perfect shot because I’m an amazing model. Yeah, that must be it.
So now I wait for the photos to come back. I’m sure she will print them out at Walgreens using a coupon from the internet. Once she does that, I hope to be able to pick out which one I like the best.
Naturally, I will request she crop the photo to make me look 100 pounds thinner. She can do that, right? (Isn’t that what they do to Kirstie Alley?)
I don’t normally send out holiday cards because I’m lazy and hate buying stamps. However, if these head shots turn out okay, you should be on the lookout for a wallet sized photo of this girl’s face coming to a mailbox near you.
I just hope they managed to Photoshop out the scone crumbs on my face…and the scowl I wore when I realized there were no M&Ms or other snack foods.