Let’s pretend it’s me
Judy Conlin
I told you about my photo shoot and how disappointed I was when the photographer showed me a few of the shots. She had called them beautiful so much while taking them I thought she had transformed me, but there I was, plain old Judy dressed up in Nurse Judy’s clothes. Even Nurse Judy, my diva alter ego, wasn’t as elegant as usual, and I could see bits of us both in the pictures.
This week I went to see the finished photos, and I was in for a surprise. The photographer had picked out 10 of what she thought were the best shots. I gaped at them. They really were lovely. The trouble was that none of them looked like me. They were all Nurse Judy. I take that back. There was one black and white shot in the bunch of frumpy old me. The neckline of Nurse Judy’s gorgeous top was too large for my skinnier frame, and the cords of my old neck were bulging unattractively. Yes, it certainly was me and was rejected on the spot.
There was one other shot in the bunch that could have been me. There was no way of telling as it was only two hands holding a rose. It really was pretty, but why would I order that? The purpose of this photo shoot was to have some pictures for my grandchildren to remember me at 90 before I deteriorated further. I wanted them to have some pleasant memories of me, but that included all of me, not just my hands. This was my favorite picture, but I could not see myself purchasing it for them.
As I mulled over this problem, the lady in charge showed me different ways of having your purchases displayed. There were various frames, wall art on canvas, three dimensional looks, and so much more. Then she showed me how a photo could be placed on a 10×10 tile. Thie hand photo had a black background and my hands holding a red rose. My kitchen is black and red, so I ordered this for on my kitchen counter. I was pleased with this purchase, but this did not achieve my goal.
I continued searching for a suitable picture for the grandchildren. All the rest were good pictures and poses, but as I said they were of Nurse Judy, not me. There was nothing to do but pick one of these. We both agreed on one as the very best. Then we were back to the drawing board trying to find the right mode for presentation. She suggested I get one for myself, preferably a large one. I balked at this idea. I know that in all my favorite Netflix movies, there is a huge picture of the lady of the house over the mantel in the great room. While Nurse Judy would love this since the photo looked so much like her, I would abhor it. I would be embarrassed to have guests in my home having to gaze at a portrait of what was supposed to be me. How egotistical.
After a time, I finally decided to get 8X 10 portraits of that favorite for the grandchildren and try to find some less elegant frames for them later. I was done . Nurse Judy “was not. She began jumping around and pointing out how wonderful the other 8 poses were. “You can’t not get these.”
She cried.
“You can’t use 2 negatives,” I tell her, correcting her grammar. “I am in charge here and I will decide what I buy.”
Nurse Judy reverts to Nurse Judy tantrum behavior. She stamps ger feet, yells, contorts her face, and makes a scene right in the studio. It is impossible to ignore her, and it is getting very embarrassing. I order some wallet size photos of each pose.
I am not proud of myself for always giving in to her, but you know how hard it is to deal with someone who acts like a 2 year old. Sometimes losing the battle is winning, and in this case, I think it is. When I pass out those pretty wallet pictures of her, folks will think they must be of me. I can bask in her fake glory.
More later,
Judy
www.nursejudyinfo.com
P.S. Come see me this week at Tallahassee Theter Nov, 21, 22, and 23, 2-4 p.m.. I am Miss Marple in an Agatha Christie radio show, See you there.
