"Can I live with this?" This is what I thought when I saw my new passport pics. I've never been vain. However, when I turned thirty, I told myself there was no point in keeping (any) more bad pictures. Hence, from that time on, any photograph deemed unacceptable met my scissors and the closest trash bin. As far as actual printed photgraphs are concerned, I've done well. Digital pictures stored on the computer are another story. I haven't quite figured out how to edit myself or parts of me. Anyway, to get back to the questionable pictures at hand. There was no time to get another set done. This is the Philippines and "six weeks at least," may actually mean eight weeks. I didn't want to add another day over my (hopefully) one month and a half. Specially since I am looking at a possible trip to Macau on November. I guess I can't believe I look this bland. It doesn't help that I don't smile. Smiling doesn't come naturally. It's a genetic thing. People in my family don't smile. It looks strangely un-natural and just creepy.
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