About a year ago, my friend Facebook asked me if I’d like to make our relationship FB official by creating a bitmoji.
I played around with the idea very, very briefly and then declined. I don’t like to think that hard about what I look like. It’s kind of deflating.
Ah, but Facebook is a tenacious advocate for itself and its relationships.
A few days later, as I was about to write a comment, Facebook jumped in and suggested I use my bitmoji to do so. It looked like this:
I mean, really! How could something I thought knew me so well have gotten everything so very wrong? As with many things in my life, I found the whole situation both hilarious and unsettling.
Is that how Facebook sees me? Male? Expressionless? With enviably thick brunette hair? And kind of cool kicks?
Lest the world see me as Facebook did, I set out to fashion a more accurate bitmoji. I tried to be as honest as I could in the decidedly uncomfortable process and ended up with this:
So awkward! Just shy of crazy! And, not necessarily at all what I think I look like. (Except for the bags under the eyes and the freckles. Those are real).
I gave up. Again. The bitmoji life is clearly not for me.
Fast forward through a whole pandemic.
Earlier this week, someone asked if he could make me a bitmoji and I buckled up my dignity in an airbag-protected seat and agreed to take a ride.
It started out exactly as I had imagined.
Him: “Woah! I have to scroll down really far to get to the year you were born!”
Me: “Uh huh. Well, honestly I’m surprised it’s even on there.”
Then he got down to the design work. He really leaned in.
Him: “I’m going to be nice and not put all your wrinkles on there.”
Me: “I mean, you can add them if you want to. I think you gave me some.”
We hit a roadblock as we moved down from the face.
Him: “Eeeeew! You pick out the chest!”
Me: “Eeeeew! Why do we have to do that?”
He looked away and I picked as quickly as I could, with one eye closed to the humiliation.
We moved on to wardrobe and he selected a nice, SpongeBob SquarePants inspired ensemble I didn’t mind at all.
We ended up with this:
He helpfully updated my phone keyboard so I could use my bitmoji as often as I’d like. The keyboard itself has been a wee bitmoji challenging for my one-thumb style of typing, so I’ve taken to responding to family texts succinctly.
Apparently, I’m a bitmoji cooler than I thought.