So, every now and then I need to get my shit together and figure out where I've been and who I've run into.
I do have a pretty remarkable mind, you know.
It knows things. Lots of things. Fashion, music, parties, people, the international supply chains for sedatives. I've memorised the Kama Sutra, along with several variations that I'm fairly certain haven't been published yet. So yes, I'm a woman of considerable knowledge. But I also forget things. Quite a lot of things, actually.
And I suspect that's one of the reasons I have a camera.
Because every now and then, when there's a moment between parties, appointments and other activities that don't necessarily belong on a public calendar, I sit my firm, round, gorgeous little butt down at my desk, take that tiny memory card out of my camera and slide it into my laptop.
Click.
Let's see where I've been. Bardeco. Oh, right! Last Sunday, even. I remember now. Great place as always, gorgeous people, a good atmosphere. Gee was on the decks, I think. I'm not entirely sure, because I forgot to take his picture. Which is unfortunate, because photographic evidence is increasingly becoming the only reliable way for me to establish what actually happened during my weekends.
And wouldn't you know it, I forgot to take a selfie again.
Honestly, sometimes my own humility amazes me. I mean, look at the rest of you. Some people seem physically incapable of holding a camera without immediately turning it towards themselves. Every angle, every pose, every possible opportunity to remind the world what they look like.
And then there's me.
A woman who spends half her life with a camera in her hand, surrounded by mirrors, reflective surfaces and people who would probably be delighted to photograph her, and somehow manages to go an entire evening without taking a single picture of herself.
It's almost saintly.
Of course, I suppose it helps that you're all thinking about me throughout the day anyway. My image is already etched into your minds. You can close your eyes and see me whenever you like.I know. It's a gift.
Still, I've heard some complaints. Well, not complaints exactly. More expressions of genuine disappointment from people who've scrolled through an entire page of gorgeous photographs, only to discover that there isn't a picture of me at the bottom.
To top it off, so to speak.
And I understand that. After all, you've been looking at beautiful people for several minutes, and naturally you'd like to finish with something truly spectacular. Who am I to deny you that pleasure?
So I've come up with a solution. Whenever I happen to find myself somewhere interesting, and provided I remember, I've started taking the occasional random selfie. Not necessarily at the party I'm photographing, just wherever I happen to be. That way, on those evenings when I'm so distracted by all your beautiful faces and bodies that I forget to turn the camera around, I can still give you the ending you've come to appreciate.
A little Doreen, just when you need me the most.
So, back to Bardeco. Here are the photographs. And if the last one looks like it was taken somewhere entirely different, now you know why.
I may not remember everything I've done.
But at least I remember what you people want.
Me.
Enjoy, darlings. 💋
Click them for a larger resolution and save.
This post is not sponsored or paid for in any way. I was also not blackmailed or tortured to write it.
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