December 2, 2008
Well, I am easily cajoled by my dear readers… at least those who speak up. So in compliance with further requests, here I am in all my enpixelated visual glory, in a couple of semi-recent (three month old) photos that display me on exhibit in my natural habitat. Full disclosure: I really am taller than 2.36 inches, despite what it appears on your screen. In real life I am at least 13 inches tall.
In the first photo, I’m standing at the end of the dock at Roche Harbor on a gorgeous day. This is where I catch the little sea plane to head down to Seattle, if the tarmac at Friday Harbor is fogged in. It’s fascinating how different the microclimates are from stem to stern of an island roughly 16 miles long.
The second photo below is me doing my best impression of an over-fed Orca whale (except larger) as I don my spray skirt and life jacket (aka, pfd: Personal Floatation Device… seems the first word might be redundant, doncha think? I mean, who else would be floating around with this thing??). Really, underneath all that gear there is a 115 pound woman. Hard to tell.
Blogging is an odd, vacuumous art form wherein you never really know if anyone at all is reading the [masturbatory?] items you post. I hear from a select and valued few who comment fairly reliably, as some of you have noticed. I suppose they do so to ensure that I don’t hang up my kelpy shingle for a more respectable hobby, like knitting. They need their virtual tourism fix and damn if I’m not the one who’s destined to provide it! But I know from my blog statistics that there are a ton of lurkers out there who click regularly to these pages. I thank and welcome them all. But alas, they are shy.
So here’s the trade: in return for me posting these oh-so rare photos of myself (I’ve always figured that if anyone really wants to see me, they’ll venture over to my professional site which overflows with gooey Shapiro Narcissism), I hereby request that anyone out there who has been enjoying my little offerings considers coming forth and saying hello. Really, it’s ok. It’s safe. I do not bite. I usually do not scream. I even bathe regularly: every two and a half weeks, whether I need to or not.
Come out, come out, wherever you are!
Hey, I did!