Long ago, on an Island they call ‘Manhattan’ I had a date. This date was with a guy…we’ll call him Ted.

Ted and I got along pretty well. He was cute, funny, nice, easy-going. All qualities that I enjoy in company. I was pretty excited to see him again in the future. Until…

Ted: I don’t want to embarrass you…but you missed a belt loop?

Me: I what?

Ted: A belt loop. On your pants…you missed it in the back.

Me: People actually get embarrassed by that?

At this point, I started running through my head. Should I be embarrassed by that? It seems a weird thing to get embarrassed about…and now that he pointed it out that I SHOULD be embarrassed, now I’m embarrassed that I’m not embarrassed.

We stared at each other blinking.

Me: Well…do they?

Ted: It probably means you’ve been walking around like that all day.

Me: Right. And that’s….embarrassing?

Ted nodded.

Me: Hm. Ok, if you say so.

That made me wonder…did Ted ever miss a loop in his belt buckle? Did he have some horrifying experience where everyone in middle school pointed and laughed the day he walked into the cafeteria with a chunk of his black leather belt bunched over the loop in his jeans?

It’s just such a stupid thing to get embarrassed about.

Ted: So…you’re not going to fix it?

::blink:: ::blink, blink:: Ok, yeah. This guy definitely has a traumatic belt loop story somewhere in his past.

Me: Sure.

At this point, I took off my belt and strung it through the one loop I had missed, but left it out of all the others. Then buckled it at my zipper.

Me: There. Happy?

I smiled at him.

Ted: Um, not really. You missed them all.

Me: Nope. Not this one.

I turned around showing him my backside.

Ted: But that looks intentional. And weird.

I knew then that he was not the man for me.

This little guy did not want to sleep at all…despite the comfy beanbag he was sleeping on and the 87 degree temperature in my studio, he just wasn’t having it. He gave us about a 20 minute window of sleep and then he was ready to rock and roll. This has actually been a trend with my newborns lately…they all just want to party. I mean, I can’t really blame them–I’m pretty awesome. If I were around me, I’d want to stay awake and rock n’ roll, too.

(I love his little smile in this first one)

Suzanne and I wandered around the waterfalls at Lucia Falls in OR. She was totally cool, 8 weeks pregnant and still 100% willing to do just about anything. She climbed on rocks, hiked down to the water and then proceeded to dive right in.

One of the main questions brides ask me when I mention the trash the dress sessions is how often people actually do this? What if their daughter wants to someday wear their dress?

Well, everybody is different, of course. I don’t ever want to push something on a client who doesn’t want it! BUT, I’m in love with the trash the dress shoot. How many times do you get to wear your wedding dress again? Usually never. And how many of us wanted to wear our mother’s wedding gown? Not many of us…and for those that did, a lot of stars have to align–correct sizing, etc. And, most of the time, your dress will already be very dirty by the end of the night. Usually you need to have it cleaned before sending it off to storage–So…why not put that gown back on, embrace the dirt and get some beautiful beach portraits?

And if worse comes to worst, you can always have your dress professionally cleaned and it will take care of all that sand and dirt you bring home with you from the beach after your shoot.

No matter how often I wipe down those eyes of hers…they remain gross and crusty and have a faint reddish hue. As if she hit the sauce a bit too hard the night before and is paying for it in saggy, baggy, crusty eyes.

It’s ok, Bebop. All us ladies have been there. Maybe I should slice some cucumbers and the two of us can have a spa day. I’ll paint your toenails if you paint mine.