scribblechic

You know the moment.  Sitting on an awkward plastic chair, in front of a baby blue background, smiling like a serial killer at an impersonal camera lens while hoping for a photograph you can safely pull out of your wallet without scaring strangers.  My photographic history with my driver’s license was always one of disinterest.  Then, one hot day a few years back, I joined the ranks of emotionally scared survivors of bad photographs.  So much so, that when an occasion called for me to share the photograph I would automatically apologize.  Recently, a letter in the mail arrived offering an easy license renewal by mail with the benefit of a Safe Driver acknowledgment.  I cast aside safety for vanity.  This morning, I went through the motions of updating my photo.  The new Am I That Blonde photo is a happy replacement to my Transvestite With a Mohawk mug shot.  Thinking this I smiled and my son, ever watchful, declared to all present:  Go back!  Whatever you were just thinking, have them take that picture!