I have another 10 photos of me, looking miserable, taken within about 3 minutes, in 2010. I suppose it’s the Nick version of a girl pouting at a mirror – I kept trying until I got the hallowed equilibrium of ‘cute teenager’ and ‘misery-guts’. But why?
Once upon a time, I was a serial offender at Muselive.com (a Muse fan site where I made lots of friends), and in the unmoderated, off-topic area, there was a dubiously title region named “Camwhores”. I was a little perplexed to find an old folder on my laptop today with that name, before realising what it was – about 50 photos of me. I’m not sure who had the bright idea to give it that title, but the area banned typing, and all communication had to be made with photographs. Having rediscovered this, I have been attempting to decode what on Earth I was talking about at the time.
WARNING: This post contains my face. A lot.
This one is easy. During my early years on Muselive, I took to trying to convince strangers that my name was Nikku, and that I live in Nuuk, Greenland. This was an amalgamation of challenging myself on ChatRoulette (which had just taken the internet by storm), my obsession with obscure locations and being a sad, lonely and bored human being. I suppose living in the middle of nowhere would give me an excuse outside of laziness.
Sadly, that is not really the case, but bizarrely, everyone knows so little about the place that nobody ever questioned it. I was so good at it, that a young woman who took a liking to me for some reason, changed her hometown to Nuuk on Facebook, so that she could be with me (and seven years on, it still specifies that she lives there). Not bad considering how I only remember how to say “Hi! How are you?” and “I have epilepsy”.
And I thought that there was no justification with the Camwhores name. A few of us veterans of the website (read “should have gone outside more”) used to chat on Skype a lot. I am under the assumption that this was a warning to someone who had yet to join us in a chat, to state what they could expect to be quizzed on by a certain member of the site. I won’t name them, but will confirm that his hair matches the colour of that sticky note.
The pinnacle of being a disappointment. This homemade sock pigeon (‘Eric Stanley Pigeon’ to be precise) was made by my mother when I was only 7, and was part of a Book Day costume. I was dressed as Old Smelly, the tramp from E.S.P., and that was sewn onto the shoulder of my shoulder. I posted this photograph, and someone got very upset with me when I broke the news that I didn’t make it. Oh, I’m sorry. Though to be fair, almost 20 years on, I probably still couldn’t make that pigeon. However, I think things mellowed when I decided to show off my massive Beanie Babies collection (well, two old Beanie Babies that I got when I was about 9).
Then tragedy struck, and I was compelled almost to staple my tongue to the desk. All because I ran out of paper. I assume that’s the case anyway.
However, as of 2017, I have been reimbursed with paper. It’s a real pity that I’m…