Do you ever see pictures of yourself and think “who the f*ck is that”?  And then realize it’s you?  After having about 200 pictures of myself tagged on Facebook this week, I’ve had more than a few of those moments.

Thankfully, I’ve gotten a little bit better at dressing and posing in photos in the last 22 years or so.

Both my sister and I have learned to avoid these looks (and poses) at all times.

Normally, I’m pretty good at posing from the neck up.

Or even from the waist up.

But it’s rare that I get a full body picture I’m willing to share (and I usually try to hide behind G, if only to try to minimize myself a little).

It helps to color coordinate with the person you’re hiding behind, just fyi.

If you take a candid shot of me, you’re pretty much guaranteeing a fugly picture.

Holy sh*t, are my shoulders really that broad?  I guess that’s why I turn to the side in just about every single picture.

And really, what the hell happened to my boobs in this picture?  I’m turned to the side, but I obviously didn’t turn my torso the right way…the result is odd-looking and reason #72 that I need to get a boob job.

And please, do not take a picture of me dancing.  Especially if I’m in a white dress.

Yeah, that’s embarrassing and I think I can see that the 10 pounds I gained on the cruise settled right in my hips.  That’s lovely.  And another in a white dress:

Gorgeous.

Now, I realize that I sometimes photo bomb my own pictures:

But I’m usually trying to look like a psycho so it works.

These pictures just make me wonder if my normal/non-posing appearance is as a broad-shouldered, wide-hipped, weird-boobed, crazy dancer that can sometimes take an acceptable picture.

I’m pretty sure the answer is yes.  Cool.  Bring on the pictures!