i’m in love
September 14th, 2010

Everyone, meet Zoey. Zoey and I joined forces Sunday. She’s a 12-week old black lab. I’m not sure who she’ll grow to be, but as things have revealed themselves the last 48 hrs, she seems like the most laid-back, chill lab I’ve ever met. We had a firm talk before we became a team. I told her she had to live at least 12 years, that she couldn’t destroy my house, that she would need to be a little more independent than her predecessor, that she would NOT be confused about my role as alpha dog, and that she would follow a clear set of directives we would both learn at puppy training. And most importantly? She had to love kids. So far, so good.



I miss Kodak terribly. These last couple days have been incredibly bittersweet. But this house simply needs a dog. It’s just too darn quiet without one.
more tales from the train wreck that is my lovelife
August 25th, 2010
A month ago I unintentionally went out with a married man.
Yep.
That happened.
To make matters worse? I was the one who asked him out. It’s a long story, and a funny one (kind of), but when all is accounted for, I’m fairly certain it won’t be on the list of things Jesus asks me to explain one day.
Moving on.
******************************************************
Last Wednesday, I met Jim. Jim entered my world thanks to a Free Communication Weekend from eHarmony. Questions came, and I in my “can’t live in the ‘what if’s” decided to respond. I was, from the beginning, not excited. He honestly just seemed boring in his profile. Why I decided to not listen to my ever spot-on inner voice remains a mystery to me, but I didn’t. I managed to blow him off for about a month, as every time he asked me to do something I was honestly out of town. After he continued to be persistent, though, I decided I should give it a Girl Scout try.
First of all, let me say after a month of texting, I’m fairly certain he used over a thousand question marks and an equal number of explanation marks. Y’all know how much I hate text grammar. “U” is spelled “you”, for example. So when I continued to get “r u excited 2 meet next week????????????????????” texts, imagine my annoyance. Here’s where I know I can be a bit “particular”…a bit “idealistic”. So I opted not to write this guy off simply due to his over zealous use of punctuation.
We met for coffee. Kept it casual. He had wanted to do dinner and a movie. I wanted to quick escape. You know…in case it was, in fact, as tragic as I expected it to be. This type of mindset going into a date is always key to success. I am bound to find love when I’m expecting the worse.
But can you blame me? I mean seriously, people. I have had more than my fair share of doozies.
This one might take the cake.
Jim, who did not appear to be a small man in his photographs, started the date by having a hard time getting out of his truck due to his mass. I am going to guess he weighs about 450 lbs. As a woman who has always struggled with my weight (though anyone who know me knows I work out regularly and eat much healthier than you would ever guess), I make a commitment to get to know everyone for who they are, believing chemistry is based on more than the physical. When he ordered (and I quote) a venti white chocolate mocha with extra white chocolate, toffee nut flavoring, and caramel sauce…and THEN a piece of raspberry swirl pound cake, a cheese danish, and a birthday cake donut, I wanted to rush him to a hospital thinking he might go into diabetic shock.
I told myself to keep a open mind.
We shared an hour outside, trying to connect in conversation, and though there were moments I thought there might be possibility, I heard that inner voice raise red flags here and there. Like when he said he dreamed of being back at his college weight of 315, speaking of it as it if would be ideal, and feeling like having LapBand surgery was his best means of getting there. Or when he talked about enjoying evenings watching movies and television and mentioned nothing about spending time with friends or social outings. Most importantly, however, when he pushed too much to talk about sex. I, being a rare breed of virgins in their 30s committed to sex being practiced only within a committed Christian marriage, have learned I have to shut people down when this line of questioning starts. If you’re out with someone who doesn’t hold similar values, they immediate look for loopholes. And unfortunately, there’s this sick, twisted need some men have to “conquer”. So I made it very clear sex was out of the question until I said “I do.” His response? “Is that Bill Clinton’s definition of sex, too?”
I changed the subject.
To be fair, there are key things on the table here with him. He’s college educated, successful, taller than me, attends a Southern Baptist church and talks about Jesus in a way that makes it sound like there’s personal connection there… But the longer I maneuver the dating world, the more I know I’m not just looking for someone to marry. I’m looking for “him” – the guy I can’t imagine living without – a soulmate, if you will. My parents tell me I can’t make that decision the first time I meet someone. I still beg to differ.
He asked me to go out for dinner next week. I said maybe. He said, “It’s a yes or no question, Kelly.” I said, “I’m a processor.” He said, “Let me earn your affection. If you’re riding the fence, let me persuade you.” I agreed, still, obviously trying to keep an open mind. He seemed so excited to wine and dine me. He was game on making me feel like he was going to work to make me feel special. When he went to hug me goodbye, though, and there was absolutely no spark of chemistry, I knew it was doomed.
It was further doomed when he called the next day and called me “babe”. WAY too presumptuous. WAY too premature. I wanted to correct him immediately and say, “I’m not your babe.” Here’s where I should’ve been honest and just canceled our plans. But I didn’t. I guess I felt a sense of obligation and commitment. And…I was trying to keep an open mind.
He called the next day, this time calling me “baby.” Just stop it.
But wait, friends…here’s where it gets awesome.
Saturday morning? I got this text…

O.
M.
G.
r u kidding????????????????
THREE DAYS AFTER A FIRST DATE??????????????????????????????????????????
A COFFEE DATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU HAD TO TALK ME INTO GOING OUT AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There are a thousand things I really want to say, but if I wrote them all out here, you wouldn’t ever want to buy my book. So for now, I’ll just tell you that I immediately called him and canceled my date Wednesday.
my aperturic annual – 08.02.10
August 2nd, 2010
I suck.
(Hopefully you guys can come to grips with that as easily as I have this summer.)
I seriously have no idea what I was thinking taking this project on. An image a week would’ve been a much better (and much more realistic) goal. But in my typical personal style, I set lofty goals wanting to be extreme – all or nothing. And in the inability to not be all, I settle for nothing. I need to learn how to live in the middle a bit better.
I actually have some shots I’ve taken, but I don’t have the time to post them. We’re backlogged at work, and I just can’t seem to get ahead. They’ll come at one point. Promise.
In the meantime, I will tell all of you my shoots as of late professionally have been great. I feel a new surge of passion and energy for my craft – looking for new spots, trying out new light, having fantastic clients…this summer has been amazing. Sans the heat, of course. I am sitting here downloading images from a shoot where my car registered 104 degrees at one point as we were between locations. Yikes. Thanks to Photoshop, however, the poor kid won’t appear as though he was pitting out. As much as everyone loves sweaty armpits in their senior pics…
I thought since I haven’t shot a lot in the last couple weeks personally, I would show you one of my favorite images EVER captured while shooting my friend Steve and his family. Steve was a high school friend of mine. He married the lovely and wonderful Sarah. They made beautiful babies. And as most do when families are families, they wanted photos taken.
This is seriously a moment captured during the shoot. No Photoshop craziness blending multiple images together. And as much as I’m sure it won’t make the living room mantle, I can’t help but feel like this image captures the truth of what family portrait sessions really involve.

“Everyone say, ‘CHEESE!!!!!’”
my aperturic annual – 07.13.10
July 15th, 2010

my aperturic annual – 07.12.10
July 13th, 2010
A special thank you goes out to the two of you who very kindly reminded me that I’ve been slacking on my posts as of late. I explained to one of you how annoyed I immediately found myself shooting for this blog instead of for myself. So we’ll have to see where this heads from here. It’s not that I’m unable to follow through with a commitment. I’m actually somewhat freakishly obsessed with being a woman of my word. But I also can’t have the motivation to do this become the very opposite of what this year’s challenge was to myself. I’m working personally on how to make the two marry well.
Today, however, the moment presented itself quite clearly and I took it. I hereby post a very fun image of one of the boys in my neighborhood who stopped by between my shoots today selling art of his in hopes of getting to California. I will share with you he was quite savvy in his salesmanship. He told Sarah, my office manager, his pieces sold for two dollars. When Sarah came downstairs (after answering the doorbell to find him standing there and asked if she could borrow a couple bucks), I headed up to see his work and hoped to surprise him with an unexpected tip when I pulled out a five. Apparently, however, the piece I had chosen was one of his best. It sold for $5, not $2, so I reached back in to literally get the last two dollar bills in my wallet so I could own this.

What you can see is how happy he is holding the last money I have in my wallet. You can also see his sketch. What you can’t see on the sketch, however, is the phrase he wrote in a quote bubble coming out of the man’s head. It says (and I quote), “Tell ‘em to shove off.”
Hilarious.