vacation | Jenna's Everything Blog

I thought you’d all be pleased to know that I’ve been working on my fake smile.

My journey all began when I realized that in every picture of me smiling for the past 27 years (my whole life), my eyes are both squinty and asymmetrical. My cheeks are stretched out, wrinkles are forming every which where, and it can be quite . . . funny lookin’. This started when I was young, and thought that smiling was supposed to be a grotesque face contortion:

I blame the untimely appearance of my sister Erica. I had everything under control, and she just had to come along and pull the rug out from under me. I was queen! Me, me, me! And then suddenly it was all about this squalling tiny thing with no hair. No wonder I favored a bleak grimace.

I recently decided it was high time in my life to create a fake smile–one that all happened on the lips, leaving the eyes relaxed and as open as possible. I wanted people to realize that there are actually eyes in there, not just slivers of shadow. I wanted to improve my photographic track-record.

After her untimely disruption of my world 25 years ago, Erica recently redeemed herself by helping me practice my smiling skills at a little cafe in Boulder Junction during Family Vacay 2010. When she understood the great wisdom of what I was endeavoring to achieve, she whipped out her camera and photographed my first attempts.

If you are seeking to work on your own fake smile, here is a set of instructions to help you on your way.

First:

Observe your real smile. Identify the points of change.

My points of change: less wrinkles all around. More eyes. Less like the Grinch and more like Halle Berry.

Now that you’ve identified the areas of opportunity, stretch the face. It’s important to limber up your skin before you try anything at all. This will help avoid training injuries.

This part can get pretty frightening for onlookers, so most of you may want to do this with only a few trusted loved ones present. And most of you may choose not to photograph the occasion, since this is blackmail in the workings.

Once your facial muscles are feeling warm and relaxed, make your first attempt.

Get some feedback immediately. My sister quickly pointed out that it was a disaster and it was even worse than my real smile. “We’re going for symmetrical eyes! Symmetrical!” she coached, wondering if I would ever get it. Time for take #2. It may help to look at something truly amusing to put the right vibe into your attempt. Thankfully, we had this nearby poster to help matters out.

Quick, while you’re mildly amused, plaster the “fakey” on your lips.

Ta-daa!

Great, isn’t it? I think I more than doubled the exposed surface area of my eyeballs! I think I reduced the Grinch wrinkles by at least 50%, what do you think?

A little blank and expressionless for a smile, you say? A little lifeless?? Well no one asked your opinion anyway!

You know . . . maybe it is a little flat. A little stiff. Where’s the sincerity? Where’s the joy? I may need a follow-up lesson to work out the kinks, Erica. Maybe you could drive on up here, eh? Because folks, Erica has completely mastered the relaxed smile that also radiates energy. Just look at her wedding pictures here, or the shots of her on the dock here for proof. My issues may be rooted in my all-or-nothing personality; I can’t smile partially. It’s either the full wrinkly smile experience, or it’s a flat lifeless mask. Why can’t I learn to do an awesome halvsies smile? And why can’t I look exactly like Halle Berry? Why??

And on that cliffhanger, I am signing out. I may choose to do a follow-up post charting my progress up the learning curve–but I may not. This blog is all about the suspense.

Thanks all for joining me today. Erica is available and on-call for fake smile training sessions. It’s a deal, she only charges $50,000 plus hidden fees and extra charges.

Since I was her first client, I got away with purchasing our coffees. Or did she purchase them? It’s hard to recall.

During Family Vacay 2010 we went out to breakfast one day.

Paul Bunyan’s Cook Shanty serves all-you-can-eat breakfast for . . . a hefty price, let’s say. But it was worth it for the doughnuts alone. I hereby nominate those doughnuts to become the State song. Or the State bird. Or the State whatever, as long as Wisconsin gives them a position of honor, merit, and blatant publicity. These doughnuts make Wisconsin a better place to live. In fact, they almost make up for the population of mosquitoes and spiders that this state also plays host to . . . almost. Let’s not go too wild here, now.

Let’s move past the doughnuts . . . for now. Paul Bunyan’s eggs are OK, their sausages are delectable, and their pancakes ain’t bad either. All the food is brought to the table family-style, and served on tin plates and cups. Kind of like you’re camping. Cast iron cookware hangs on all the walls, tempting you to make a grab for that gigantic Dutch oven that you really don’t think you can live without anymore. Amidst the rustic decor, fellow tourists chuggin’ down the coffee, and gift shop rarities, I learned a series of important lessons that I decided to bring to you on this lovely morning.

Lesson #1: Always give Steve the doughnuts first. He is full of dormant violence which starts boiling to the surface when he experiences the lack of doughnuts.

And don’t think his wife is any different either.

Lesson #2: when seated between a hungry sister and a hungry husband, use your fork to intimidate them into keeping their grubby little mitts off the freshly arrived scrambled eggs.

You have a right to those scrambled eggs. You are entitled to the full amount of those scrambled eggs. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. This is the land of opportunity! And when your opportunity is threatened, you must defend it with any utensils at hand.

Lesson #3: On your way back to your house from the Paul Bunyan experience, always stop at the local open-air flea market.

I mean, who couldn’t use some ‘foreign coins’? I know I’m always in need of all kinds of currency when I take my spontaneous jet-setter trips to Cancun or Barbados. And ‘rock slabs’? C’mon, you know you could use one of those to a) bake some gourmet bread on, b) lay the cornerstone for the hand-built mansion you’re constructing in your spare time, or c) bring to your weight-lifting class for extra street cred.

However, when you see visor caps with fur growing out of them, you must run far, far away.

Don’t be like me. Don’t make the same mistakes I made. The green fur is not “cute and funny” as you may think in the midst of your shopping high–it’s ugly and frightening, as you will discover as soon as you’ve spent $10 on it.

And no, I didn’t purchase the cap. It’s just a hypothetical scenario.

Lesson #4: Something about my sister and Steph being really cute and looking really good in shorts.

Note to self: investigate connection between cuteness and petite stature.

Lesson #5: When someone asks you “Whaddya think? Should I buy this rusty old piece of antique something or another?”

That’s your cue to start screaming at the top of your lungs “Oh the folly!!”, wrench the object from their hands, and take off running. Throw the object into the deepest lake you come across, smash it with that rock slab you purchased earlier, or bury it in the deepest hole you can carve out of the earth with your bare hands in the 1.2 minutes you have before the irate shopkeeper catches up with you. Your friend/relative is counting on you to save him or her from a poor shopping choice, and no measure is too extreme to ensure they don’t have this sorry piece of crap kicking around for the rest of their lives.

And for the record, this situation is also hypothetical; Erica in no way considered buying this. Plus, with a little paint it could be super cute.

Lesson #6: The stones and beads will try to draw you in. Don’t buy them! Unless you’re a disciplined jewelry-maker, they will just sit around looking bright and pretty in your drawers, on your desk, or in your refrigerator.