This never happened to Pablo Picasso.

Dear LiveJournal, last night I got onstage and talked about my feelings, my thoughts and my face to a bunch of people at the Emerging Writers’ Festival event, #selfies. I also acted as host—a duty sprung on me at the last minute—to an incredible line-up (a bona fide bunch of smarties). 

Sure, I popped a few beer-chased beta blockers before I had to get up there but it went really well? I got a bit too close to the mic at points and stumbled on a few things but it was just a very fun time? I got a lot of laughs and really engaged the audience? When I am not wracked with constant self-doubt, I actually can achieve anything?

But most importantly: look at those chubby lil’ cheekbones.

But then I was like:

And then I was like: