I'm gradually rattling through my photo ops, and they range from me looking happy and photogenic to me looking happy and completely demented.
But let me talk to you about my Jared photo.
Jared, as usual, was an absolute sweetheart and I approached him with the request, 'please can I have a good old fashioned squeeze?'
You know that moment when you know you're going to regret the words that have just come out of your mouth, but there's no unsaying them now ...?
Holy crap on toast ... can that man squeeze!
I think my ribs have been permanently disfigured, my shoulder blades have crumbled to dust and my kidneys have been relocated somewhere in the vicinity of my elbows. I've never been run over by a steamroller before, but now, I think I have an inkling of how it might feel.
My face in my picture is the face of a woman whose life is ebbing away. But, hey! What a way to go.
When he let go of me, I think I gasped out a comment along the lines of 'Thank you. I think my ribs have collapsed'. I can't be sure exactly what I said, because oxygen starvation will do that to a person. Jared's response was 'that's okay, you don't need them!,
Tomorrow is another day, I have four more photo ops.
Not to self: DON'T ever use the word 'squeeze' anywhere near Jared.