Most Important, How's My Hair Look? -or- My Very Unflattering Photographic Portfolio

On Saturday I speak on unschooling at a new homeschooling conference. I've been surpisingly calm about it; usually by now I'm breathing into a paper bag and jumping out of my skin, causing Rob to mutter, "WHY do you say yes to these things?!?" while I spit, "YOU AREN'T HELPING!" back at him. But not this time. It helps, in a way, that I learned there are fewer registrations for the conference than expected, so in some ways it will be more like a conversation than a presentation. I'm disappointed for the organizers, of course, but a bit relieved that I don't have to practice projecting my voice, which, in my oh-so-organized way, is scheduled for somewhere between mopping the nervous sweat from my armpits and gasping, "ohmygoddess people are coming into the room".

But today I got a phone call that makes me nervous to the core of my being. The Register Star, the main newspaper of our nearby city of 200,000, called to arrange a photo shoot. I know!


I was interviewed for an article on eating organic food and now they'd like to take some photographs of my garden, or of me cooking with organic foods, or of me shopping for organic foods. "Ok," says me, followed by "Would you be interested in some stock footage from about 10 years ago? Say, when I had smoother skin, thinner thighs, and gray-free hair?" Question: can someone please tell me why don't I have a plastic surgeon on speed dial, hmmm?!

See, here's the thing. They also want to shoot a VIDEO. V-I-D-E-O. For their new online sister publication. They want to set up this whole thing in the aisles of my favorite produce market and interview me about organic foods and watch me shop. Which will likely be about as interesting as watching toenails grow, but hopefully a tad bit more informational. Unless you've got some weird foot fetish. And if you do, ew, and keep it to yourself. (Sorry, I digress. I digress a lot when I'm nervous.) It will definitely be entertaining for the stateline viewers, in that dude-does-her-left-eyelid-always-twitch-like-that sort of way. And for me? Well, let's just say I might have to sell my house and start anew in a faraway land. Yes, I will go to such lengths to avoid watching myself on video.

Am I overreacting just a bit? Probably. But seriously, people, the idea of watching video footage of myself, footage I will have no editing control over whatsoever, is d*mn close to my idea of hell - a twisted mix of anticipation and dread, hopeful maybe-this-time-I'll-look-fine and or-maybe-not. I'm the person who, after getting photographed by news people, actually begs to see it and then begs them to retake it if I'm not satisfied. And have you ever noticed how **CLOSE** they get when they photograph or tape you? Once I was interviewed after a war protest. Naturally, I hadn't washed my hair that day, and it was cold and windy, being March and all, and I remember fretting about how I'd look on the nightly news, forgetting all about the rush to war and why we'd gathered in the first place.

(Note to self: check for protruding nose hairs)

And really, it's not about me. It's about the organic food movement. So why am I tripping out? Because I'm a wicked critic when it comes to seeing myself in print, that's why. Maybe I should send a stunt double. Anyone? Anyone?

I don't know about you, but I'm a peaks-and-valleys kinda grrrl. I never know from day to day if my skin is going to be clear or blemished; if my hair is going to be straight or wavy; or if I'll manage to have on my game face or not. Even my handwriting is unpredictable; some days I have lovely handwriting, others days it's a scribbly, indescipherable mess. But more important than my handwriting is this: some days I'm photogenic, and some days I'm really, super, very much NOT.

So what, dear readers, if, on the day of "the shoot," I've got my double-chin going on?

Double? Yo, that's like a quadruple!

Or what if, in my nervous state, I can't get my face to stop doing this?

You remember what your mom used to say... "if you keep doing that, your face just might stay that way"... ohdearlord...

More critical questions: Should I wear my hair up?

Egads, no. Or how about a hat?

Nah, too HeeHaw.

Perhaps I could put on a "pensive" look, to mask my inner terror:

But that would require some measure of calm. And is it just me or does my pensive look scream deer caught in headlights...

I could always resort to drinking beforehand, to loosen up:

But then I might risk overindulging. Next thing you know, it wouldn't be Diane I had in a head-lock, but the camera man:

If only I could give them a stock photo. I could use this one, taken by the head-shot photographer at our community theatre when he was teaching ME how to shoot them:
But I guess that one would work better on the cover of my book. That one I'm writing. You know, the one I haven't worked on in, like, 9 months.

Alright, this calls for reinforcements. I'll need a hair colorist, facialist, and a liposuctionist, STAT. I'll need wardrobe options and my own dresser, a nail techinician onsite for touch-ups, and plenty of valium. Oh, and some of those carnival mirrors would be great - the ones that make you look ultra-skinny. Do zits show up on film?

And then I remembered, I know people who know people. And those people have people. And maybe those people's people would be my people and what was I saying?



For fashion advice, I choose Lily:




Hey Sistah, help a grrrl out, yo?


And Lily, in her infinite wisdom, says go with this:


And when Lily speaks, I listen. Any other advice, Lily, wee goddess of fashion?

"HELLO, shoes?!?"


As my dad used to say when playing euchre, "Go big or go home."

Whaddya think - does it say "Organic-Eatin' Mama?" or what?