We're going to launch one of these threads a month. And down the months and years, we'll build up not only a mugshot parade of visitors to Whitechapel -- but also, for those who choose to participate monthly, there'll be a record of how we all change and grow (and in my case age horribly).
Obviously, I encourage participation from everyone, even if you're just joining the place. This thread is certainly NOT just for the old lags. In fact, the more new faces the better.
So. Take a photo of yourself and post it (if you're not sure how -- you put a photo on the web somewhere, a free hosting site like Flickr or Photobucket or your LJ gallery if you use LJ -- Blogger image hosting won't work -- and click the "img" button above to put the address of the image in, the http://) here.
I'll get to mine once I'm, you know... piss off, I'm busy...
Begin.
(Those of you doing 365 projects at Flickr obviously have a head start...!)
Sometimes I can't resist buying bizarro glasses. This is my third pair, and boy, do they scream late 80s/early 90s. They're even dated 1989. Can you believe I spent $18 on these suckers? For bad taste, yeah, I can.
The now Annual Beard of Holiday Depression is in full effect. I kind of want to shave it off already, but it's fucking cold out and it keeps my face ever so slightly warmer.
Five things that suck: Snow. My date canceled on me last night. Epic skintness. Promotion: unlikely. Motivation: lacking. Five things that rock: I have awesome friends. My flat is warm. Lunch box full of chili con carne. Edited chapter 13 last night. Whitechapel.
I'm back to red again, since I felt like I was having an out of body experience as a blonde. But I got this in just before going back to normal, and I sort of like it.
Detract one cat, add 200 ml of hairspray and imagine a blouse with tie; and there, my electricky daisies of the internet, you have her; your average office-supplies/bookstore salesperson.
I speak softly, but carry a thesaurus to better whack you around the head with.
Decided to take up calorie-counting (or as I prefer to think of it, "leveling up"). The good thing is that I can measure out 8 oz. of drink in my favorite glass. PSY-PSY, everybody. (And, yes, that's tape on my glasses. They broke, and I won't have vision insurance until January.)