It was a rainy day today.  The kind of rainy day that is so  effing beautiful and glorious after a ridiculously humid, hot summer. The kind of rainy day that results in the heat and humidity lifting and bringing in a fantastic 70 degrees with it.  After weeks of sweating my non-existent balls off, this cool, rainy day where I sat in my apartment with the windows and balcony doors open was VERY welcomed.

I had a meeting at Red Horse Café this morning. I put on my galoshes, grabbed my umbrella and headed out for the 12 block walk to the gallery. And I didn’t complain one bit that the rain messed up my hair or that the edge of my pants were a little dirty from mud or that my purse got drizzled on—because it was cool. And that makes all the difference between me turning into a raving, ranting lunatic and a calm, collected adult.

So—I’m walking. In the rain. Some might even say I have a bounce to my step. And about half a block in front of me is a man walking his dog…a beautiful Huskie type of dog.  It’s morning…but it’s not that early in the morning. Maybe 10:30 or 11am.  And as I get closer, I see the man is bent over doing something in the passenger side of his car. And as I take even a few more steps closer, I notice that he’s wearing those mesh sporty short things—you know the ones I’m talking about.  A lot of jocks wear them….they look like basketball shorts. Only, as he’s bent over, his ENTIRE ASS is sticking out.

Now, as a girl who wears a lot of low-rise jeans, I’ve had my share of experiences where I’m sitting and I don’t realize that the top of my crack is showing. I think most people can empathize with that. But I have NEVER had my entire ass hanging out IN THE RAIN and not realized it. His butt literally has rain droplets covering it. HOW CAN HE NOT REALIZE HE IS FLASHING ALL OF PARK SLOPE RIGHT NOW?

So I’m staring. Because, to be honest, I’m not so good at NOT staring at things like this that catch my eye. And he looks over his shoulder at me while cleaning God knows what out of his car, and catches me staring.

And he starts to stand up. Silly me, I think that they probably just slipped down while he bent over and as he stands, CERTAINLY he’ll pull them up, knowing now that I’m walking in his direction. But no. He stands up and makes no effort to adjust—and the simple act of standing doesn’t help the situation either. If anything, the shorts slide down even MORE. And I’m so baffled by what I’m looking at that I notice my jaw hanging slightly open.

The stranger smiles and gives a little head nod toward me.  “You like what you see?” He asks all cheeky…like he was the most dapper of dans within some high class lounge.

And I’m all: “Are you seriously hitting on me with your ASS hanging out in the rain?”  He doesn’t say anything at first and just as I’m about to walk away, his dog goes over to him and starts licking the water off of his butt.

Let me just say, I AM SO GLAD I STUCK AROUND THOSE EXTRA TWO SECONDS TO WITNESS THIS.

He nearly jumped out of his skin, like realizing for the first time that I wasn’t just speaking in some sort of riddle. That his ass was actually hanging ENTIRELY out of his pants.

It may be the strangest thing I’ve ever seen…I still don’t entirely understand what happened there.

Sean watches Luna for me when I go out of town. She’s a pain in the ass 90% of the time–but the other 10%, she loves to cuddle as shown.

For the record, two seconds after this photo was snapped, Luna jumped up, her head colliding with Sean’s cheek. If he wasn’t doing me such a huge favor, I probably would have laughed. But I held it in…cause I’m nice like that.

I met Frankie within the first week of college at an orientation meeting for the theatre department. All older theatre majors were asked to choose a freshman “buddy” to help out for the first semester. Frank chose me. In fact, he had been staring at me for most of the meeting, making me blush. He wore a bright blue button down shirt that was only buttoned once in the center; the rest of the shirt was open revealing his chest and abs. Hugging his neck was a hemp necklace fastened in the center with a large bead.
Frank is probably cringing right now as he reads about his old fashion sense. If you can even call it that.
So, Frankie chose me as his freshman buddy. He told me that I was beautiful and he played with my hair in the hallways as he showed me around the various rehearsal rooms. He had these light brown eyes that sometimes, in certain light, looked green and a bellowing laugh that reverberated throughout the halls.
Frank was flirtatious and it seemed for the first couple of months of school that he was really interested in me. But I happened to meet Sean in that first week of college too and ultimately ended up in a monogamous relationship very soon. Frankie and I remained friends and eventually he and Sean became friends too. And soon enough Frank came out of the closet. Which apparently everyone else in the world saw coming except for me. I was floored. Everyone else was all, “Of course he’s gay!  We all had bets on when he would come out!”
I’m really not a dense person at all—I’ve been involved in theatre since I was 8 years old and I’ve gotten very used to being around people with varying sexual preferences.  But I think with Frank, I was just too close to the situation at hand. For a year I was keeping my distance thinking that he had an all-encompassing crush on me and that I had broken his heart. In actuality, he was harboring a crush for our English professor, Mr. Hayes.
So, Frank is gay. And to tell me so, he took me to this lovely dinner where he ordered us wine and Italian food and then spilled his guts about what living inside a closet for 20 years was like.  And after that, our friendship grew so much. We’re both living in New York now…and even though I live in Brooklyn and he lives in Harlem, we attempt to see each other more than just a couple times a year. Sometimes we’re not so successful with this.
I took these headshots for Frank a few weeks ago and just looking at them makes my heart melt. He is SO BEAUTIFUL. The perfect subject. He’s showing these to his agent this week, which makes me so incredibly nervous! Hopefully no refunds will be needed.

It was the week after my birthday–which meant it was Maddie’s birthday. Maddie’s 7th birthday. Which is ridiculous…because seriously? When did my baby girl niece become a kid. She’s no longer a squishy, cuddly baby that I used to want to pour BBQ sauce over and eat whole. No. Now she’s this kid who has thoughts of her own and draws conclusions based on her findings. Like for example, not too long ago Liza and I were sitting in her kitchen discussing grown up things (::cough:: Twilight ::cough::) and Maddie came running in.

Maddie: “Mom! I want to get my ears pierced!”

Liza sighed. Apparently, she had had this discussion before. “Not until you’re older.”

Maddie: “But moooooom,” The word mom was dragged out to be at least 4 syllables long, “every other girl in school is doing it on their 7th birthday.”

Liza: “Really, Maddie? Every girl in school? Every single girl in school got her ears pierced on her birthday? So if I went around to every girl in your class next year, all of them would have pierced ears?”

Maddie faltered for a minute, but got her stony expression back almost immdiately. “Yes.”

Sighing again, Liza rolled her eyes toward me. “I told you already, I was 13 when I got mine pierced. You have to wait until you’re at least double digits.”

Maddie then turned her efforts toward me…the sucker. “Aunt Colleen, when did you get your ears pierced.”

Liza glared at me. “You were at least 10, right Colleen?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Er—” I looked back and forth from Maddie’s hopeful eyes to Liza’s “I’ll-kill-you-and-eat-the-remains-if-you-answer-incorrectly” eyes. “Well…actually, I was 8. So maybe wait until next birthday, Maddie?”

Liza’s glaring became a full on scowl. And Maddie started whining even more. “See mom! What’s a year? It’s nothing, I may as well do it NOW, THIS YEAR so that I don’t become an outcast.” And then she stomped out of the room making a face.

And seriously? When did 7-year olds start using words like ‘outcast’? That’s just crazy…

So, anyway…it was now the day of Maddie’s birthday. And due to a series of events that I don’t think I should share with the internet, Liza caved, allowing Maddie to pierce her ears.

We met at the mall at the Piercing Pagoda. Liza was there, Liza’s mom, me, and Maddie’s best friend Zaley and her mother. Maddie excitedly picked out a pair of diamond studs–yes, diamonds. I have to admit, there was a pang of jealousy that this 7 year old got a pair of diamond earrings before her 26-year old aunt did.

But as the employees were preparing the ear gun–Maddie got freaked. Apparently, she hadn’t thought about the specifics of what getting your ears pierced meant. It meant that a gold rod was going to PIERCE through your EAR. AND OH MY GOD, IS THERE ANYTHING SCARIER TO A 7 YEAR OLD KID?!

She began clinging to my jeans, moaning and whimpering everytime the employees would take a step near her. I bent down, brushing the hair from her eyes. “Maddie, hun…it doesn’t hurt that bad. I promise.”

“What does it feel like?” Her eyes watered.

“Well, it feels like this.” I pinched her lightly on the earlobe. And I’m not kidding–you would have thought I had just shot the child with a bazooka. She screamed, falling into my arms crying.

At which point, I stood up and chose the cheapest pair of titanium earring they had in the case. “I’d like to get my ears pierced a second time, please.”

Maddie stopped screaming and looked at me, the residual tears still falling off her jawline. “What?”

“WHAT?” All the adults said together.

“I’d like to get a second hole please.” I leaned back down to Maddie. “But if I do it…then you HAVE to do it. And you’ll see…it doesn’t hurt that much.” Maddie nodded…still unsure if this was some sort of trick.

As I sat in the chair, I started wondering if it actually did hurt to get my ears pierced–maybe I was in denial about the level of pain I had felt at age 8. My hands gripped the chair’s armrest harder and harder with each passing second. Liza came over and whispered, “You realize that if you show any ounce of pain, she will never get her ears pierced. Ever.”

No pressure at all. I shut my eyes, held my breath and squeezed my hands together. I could feel my eyes welling up as the first ear was pierced and the second one hurt slightly more. It definitely felt worse than that little pinch I had given to Maddie’s earlobe, but nothing unbearable. I opened my eyes to see Maddie and Zaley staring at me…waiting for a reaction. I tried to blink away the tears adn smiled wider than any normal smile. “See? Totally fine.”

At which point Maddie and Zaley started cheering and dancing around the store. It still took some cajoling to get Maddie in the chair. I just kept saying, “Diamonds, Maddie. DIAMONDS. You have no idea how exciting that really is just yet, but trust me. YOU WANT THOSE DIAMONDS.”

And she did it. My brave little 7-year old niece. And it just goes to show that I will do just about anything for that kid. Including putting an extra set of holes in my ears.

I can’t remember if I’ve shown Luna’s bed before, but I know I talked about the jealousy of when we bought Red’s new bed from Costco. I just thought i’d show (even though it’s dirty) how cute this little bed is. It’s reversable and machine washable and very soft; made out of micro-suede. Luna loves to curl up in it. In fact, so does Red.

I bought it from Zoomies in the West Village a couple of years ago. The owners of Zoomies are incredible people and I love that when I walk in there they greet me with a huge hug. I highly recommend their products and as we all know, I’m all for supporting local businesses!

Julia and Patrick are such a beautiful couple. We met at The Boathouse in Central Park on one of the sunniest and hottest days of this summer. Truly…all three of us were sweating and close to heatstroke. Ok, maybe not really with the latter, but still…it was hot.

Julia and Patrick are both from Louisiana originally and met after they each had moved up here to New York. Hence the reason they had such specific places in mind for their portraits. But in Julia’s hometown in LA, engagement announcements for the papers are only supposed be portraits of the bride. So we took images specifically of just Julia, who despite her CLAIMS about feeling awkward in front of the camera, was a gorgeous model.

I realize this post is ridiculously late, but last month on July 2 was my birthday. When the clock struck midnight, I didn’t even realize it was my birthday until Sean came running over with Red following at his heels at 12:12 yelling “IT’SYOURBIRTHDAY!IT’SYOURBIRTHDAY!IT’SYOURBIRTHDAY!” He was clearly more excited than I was.

And I just have to point out for the record, that Sean is terrible gift-giver…not to say he doesn’t get GOOD gifts. His gifts are always thoughtful and awesome and totally spot on. But he’s just always so excited to give them to me, that I end up opening them no where near the actual birthday/holiday. He’s all: “Can I give you your gift now?” And I’m all: “No. It’s not my birthday yet.” And then he’s like: “How about now?” Me: “Nope. Still not my birthday.” Sean: “How about…” And then after the 4th, 5th or 60th time, I end up throwing something at his head. It works every time.

So, the first 15 minutes of being 26 years old was already off to a way better start than last year’s birthday…otherwise known as “that day we no longer speak of.” And just then in the kitchen, I opened his second gift to me (the other one he gave me, I shit you not, 3 months ago. In his defense it was a Spring coat, so it made perfect sense to receive it early. But still. Case in point.), this Luke’s Diner mug that he designed and made through cafe press. For anyone who doesn’t watch Gilmore Girls, you clearly have no idea what this is. But it’s one of my favorite shows ever. And this mug is huge…more like a carafe really which couldn’t be more perfect.

So after I put a pot of coffee on, just to try out my new mug, Sean took my hand twirling me around. He stopped me, looked into my eyes and said, “You look great…” And just as I was about to throw my arms around him and give the biggest hug ever, he added “…for 26.”

Moment gone. But I rolled my eyes and hugged him anyway. Because I’m so totally mature now, being 26 and all, that I can ignore little slams like that.

And, let’s face it–I still get carded for R-rated movies. So I don’t have to worry about looking too old. Not yet at least.