Langston Hughes on My Mind

Trying to lift my spirits by doing highly impractical things. Tonight, for instance, I came home from work and dressed for dinner. I'm sitting all alone in my living room now, in a nice dress and heels, accessorized by a silver necklace and red lipstick spiked with glitter. (Yes, really -- glitter.)



I was going to cook and eat dinner by candlelight, but I forgot to go grocery shopping and now I look too silly to leave the house. Guess I'll mourn the death of my latest crush with a pizza, like I really need it.

Self-portraiture is without a doubt the most vain, pathetic indulgence in my arsenal. I don't post many photos, but I take them all the damn time. I'll pick up my camera, and shoot and shoot and shoot and shoot until I get a single shot that looks like the person I want to be -- vivacious and confident -- instead of the person I am. (Rejected.)

At least digital photography has made my vanity cheap. When I was a photography major I couldn't afford this indulgence.