In Resemblance of Me

As a sort of penance for my last posting, I'm pleased to present the most recent photograph of yours truly, Princess Rachella.

I just received it today, and it couldn't have come at a better time. I still throw up a bit in my mouth whenever I look at the shot of me goofin' in the Naandi Hills.
But here's the thing.....I actually like this new picture of me.

Tell the truth, y'all....it is so incredibly rare for a woman to instantly like a photo of herself. For me, it's only happened about 3 times in recent years.
The first picture is the top one on the left side of this blog. It was taken at a cemetery in Addis Ababa in 2007, when I was sitting next to an AIDS orphan. I don't know how I managed to radiate happiness in that setting, but the minute I saw that photo, I recognized that woman. And I liked her.

The next picture was from my trip to Rio de Janeiro in February of this year. At the time, I wrote about walking the streets of Ipanema wearing an orange bikini top, sticking my chest out and acting like I was all that and a bowl of grits. I even stopped some guy on the street and asked him take my picture, because I didn't know if I'd ever be bold enough to strut around in public in a bikini top ever again.

When I saw that picture, I thought, "Why WOULDN'T I strut around in a bikini top ever again??? I look HOT!" (FYI, Now that I've figured out this photo posting thing, I'm going to add that shot to that particular entry.)

And then there's today's photo. It was just sent to me by a young woman named Monicah, who I met last week at something called the "African Science Cafe." It's this really cool event where scientists hold forth in a coffee house setting
to talk about really weighty issues (this time, it was malaria). After we met, I remember thinking Monicah looked about 14 years old, and couldn't POSSIBLY be a college intern who planned to become a scientist one day.

Well, it turns out Monicah was helping with PR for the Science Cafe event, and while reviewing some of the photos taken that night, she came across this one of me. In her email, Monicah said she thought I'd "enjoy" seeing the photo above.

Now THAT comment made me literally snort, considering that in 46 years, I could count the times I'd enjoyed seeing a photo of myself on one hand. But at first glance of this picture, all of my automatic default responses failed me. I couldn't grimace at the way my hair looked, because I LIKE the way my hair looks. I couldn't moan that I was baring my gums like Mr. Ed, like I usually do when I see a picture of myself smiling, because I'm not smiling in this photo. But on the other hand, I couldn't complain that I look like I just smelled my own fart like I usually do whenever I see a picture of myself NOT smiling.

In this latest photo of moi, I am utterly relaxed. I'm listening to a really interesting discussion about malaria, and I'm not worried about trying to catch some guy's attention, or whether my forehead is shining or whether my gut is hanging over my belt in those jeans that were threatening to cut off my circulation. Really, folks, I spent a good five minutes scrutinizing this picture for even the faintest possible flaw....and I couldn't find a single one.

It's a picture of ME, uninterrupted. And, by Jove, I like what I see.