Take Note

This post is about engagement sessions (in case that affects whether or not you will be choosing to read it.  No?  Okay).  One, in particular: The one I would like to have - and the one to which I am thus laying claim right now, on October 24, 2011 at 11:38 at night.  So...run and tell that, homeboy.

But first, a story:

A kissing story.

[Story omitted due to the incriminatingly emotional and generally embarrassing details of said story.  Just thinking about it made me break out in self-mockery all over.  Suffice it to say that The Boyfriend and I tip-toed awkwardly out of the shadows long after we'd started dating, like teenagers sidling out of a broom closet with mussed hair and sloppy grins, and there was a bit of shock and disbelief all around once people found out.  But in the end it all turned out okay and wasn't really a big deal at all.]

And now, a summary of that story:

Tracy loves secrets.  Boy loves Tracy.  Who knows why.  Tracy loves him back, even more than she loves secrets.  Everyone discovers that Tracy and the Boy are sittin' in a tree.  K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

I told you it was a kissing story.

Now, it seems to me that all engagement pictures start to look the same after a while (not that the average person goes looking through hundreds of couples' engagement pictures on a Monday evening just for funsies...), with unnatural poses and matching smiles and a forced, self-consciously romantic atmosphere.  Sometimes the duo even dresses alike, which just blows my mind.

Are we inappropriate twins or just engaged? Nobody knows!

Those zombie photos were cool, but I think I would want something a little more subtle.  I would call the series "Love Endures," and it would feature pictures of the couple acting out scenes from great love stories--Isolde watching Tristan sail away to Brittany, Juliet seeking a trace of the poison on Romeo's lips, Orpheus turning back to glimpse Eurydice fading away....  You know - subtle.*

Another option is just to do a day-in-the-life shoot with all the raw, gritty details.  Wakin' up all yawning and snorting and squinty, the man scratching his thigh as he pours coffee.  Grocery shopping in sweats, doing laundry and getting the mail, a quickie on the kitchen floor while dinner sets off the fire alarm.  Reading in bed and drifting off to sleep, mouthguard in place to keep the snoring under control.  Then getting up in the morning and doing it all over again.



*Not to mention cheery!


Image via here and Iconica Photography.

Sunday Snark

Image via Isn't It Lovely?

Wedding Woes

Let me start this off by saying that I have no desire to be married: not now, not in the foreseeable future* - which is a real shame.  You know...aesthetically speaking.

I mean, a lot of nice trends are happening right now, like cutesy-pants DIY projects.  And cupcakes.  Increasing amounts of glitter.  Twinkle lights.  Photobooths.  Bonfires.  Outdoor ceremonies.  And other things.  Though I could do without the mustache mania and the jumping-bridal-party pictures that just won't roll over and die.

...Alright, some of those aren't really trends.  People have been getting married outside and making their own dessert tables for a long time.  But who knows what weddings of the future will be like?  In the next ten years, the blogosphere could be raving about Labyrinth-inspired affairs, with robo-fficiants and space honeymoons.

The future has begun.

 But surely, this can't become a reality.  What will the guests eat?  Dehydrated chicken-or-fish packets?  Buttercream-frosted cake capsules?  I don't even want to think about the kind of bizarre, synthesized beats DJ Roomba will be layin' down.

Almost makes a girl want to grab the first person she sees and elope right now, before her only choice is to get hitched on a drunken, giggly trip to Space Vegas.

Hang a sign and tin cans off that getaway car.  Ship.  Whatever.

 *Of course, the foreseeable future generally extends to next Tuesday in my mind.

 Images via Discovery Channel; Magical Mouse Pad.

Things I Like

Unintentional puns.  Real-life example:

"I usually become ravenous anywhere from midnight to 2 AM.  Last night I squatted with my nose in the fridge for twenty minutes at 1 in the morning, scrounging for something to satisfy my appetite.  I ended up eating a buttload of ham by the light of the refrigerator."

The first hipster pig describes his choice of tattoos as "ironic."

Image via The Whiskey Chicken.

The Glitter Monster

Confession: I am nearly twenty-two years old and I have never been clubbin'.*  But before I leave this golden year behind me, I feel that I should go.  Just once.  And in the spirit of adventure and youthful enthusiasm, I have already put together my outfit:

This dress, because you know I'ma be shakin' it,

Oh, crap.  I did forget deodorant.

accessories,

DO YOU LOVE ALL THE DIFFERENT COLORS?
THE UNIFYING THEME IS GLITTER, YOU GUYS.

and makeup, of course. 

I have no eyes, and I must see.

No jewelry, though.  I don't want to be over the top.  Besides, when I start dancing, I dance.  If I were wearing jewelry, somebody would lose an eye.

And then, after I throw on some sequin leg warmers and a glittery cape...you'll see me rollin' in the clubs at quarter to teeenn, the whole place stops when they see me walk iiin. And then all the fellas be buyin' me dranks, and I'll be gettin' dirty looks from the bitches and skanks, but soon they all gon' be callin my name, cuz errbody in the club wanna roll wit' maae...the Glitter Monster.

And they never saw Tracy again....





*Neither in bars nor on baby seals.**
**Haw, haw.  I just think I'm sooo hilarious.



Images galore! Dress via Guts.Glam.Grace.; shoes from bhldn; purse via Joy Cho; hat via Tiny Hats Weekly; lips via snowkei's flickr; eyes via Hudson Gallery; Glitter Monster by Natalie Dee, of course.

Don't Stop!

My eyes lit up with joy when I saw this little gem swimming around Pinterest.*  First off, some of those pinners are a little overly motivational and obsessive about guilting themselves into losing weight...

                                                                           Source: adropintheocean.tumblr.com via Noella on Pinterest

...so there was that element of sad self-loathing, seeping into a pool of uncomfortableness for me to roll around in, like a pig in a mud puddle.  But then, once I got bored of comparing the number of GET-SKINNY-YOU-SLUT shame pictures versus wistful photographs of rich desserts, I started to think, What if I pasted that motto over other pictures?  There are so many possibilities:

"I don't stop when I'm tired, I stop when I'm done."  

Raunchy:  A lusty man sick of the "headache" excuse.
Punny:  Anthropomorphic race car during a pit stop.
Literal:  Sleep-talker.
Offensive:  Slave, prisoner, factory worker, housewife (and perhaps the fact that I listed all of those together).
Arrogant:  Energizer bunny addressing all the regular bunnies.
Political:  Euthanasia opponent.
Inspirational:  Balto carrying penicillin.
Petty:  Factory line workers gossiping about their narcoleptic coworker. 
Cannibalistic:  Sunday dinner, forced to turn himself on the spit.
Sad:  A rotund woman sitting alone at a table, lit only by an overhead lamp, diving into a large box of decadent chocolates. 

...And with that last one, I think we find the inspiration behind the original picture. 




*Whoever thought up that site is brilliant.  There is no end to the number of things I can make fun of.  On the other hand, sometimes I find pictures of nooks under the stairs or baby animals that have fallen on their backs and just can't right themselves.


Image via Pinterest.

Last Friday Night...

Girls - girls!  You'll catch your death of cold!

I take it you're singing that song under your breath right now, but if you're like me, it probably sounds more like, "da da dee dum, broke the law, something someth--menage a trois...."  And then your kindergarten students look up at you innocently, reminding you what a bad influence you are.

In real life, my Friday was a little less crazy, but I did have my first bite of bacon in five years at a fiesta where I knew next to no one.  I like to think it helped calm m'nerves before just charming the pants right off so many new people.  The rest of the bacon was later put into taco meat with jalapenos and onions, and with that, all of my dreams came true.  I was so heady with delight, in fact, that I over-excitedly asked the boy who drove me home (whom I had just met) if he would be my best friend (several times) after I found out that he had watched "Firefly" (it's a good show, jeez).*

Then again, it could have been that I was just all giddy still from my proposal earlier that day.  It was my second, after all (though the first is a story for another day), and everyone knows that a girl's second proposal is the most important.  The first is too much of a shock, and anything after three is just becoming a habit.  In any case, this one happened at lunch time.  I was standing by the benches on the blacktop, minding my own business, yelling at a girl for the fifth time not to swing so high or I would make her get off, when he walked up to me and asked if I knew what he was going to do when he grew up.  Naturally, I told him no and asked exactly what he was going to do - why, I never dreamed that his answer would be "marry you"!  Did you ever?

That's her biggest problem?  Shit. 

Although I really should have seen it coming, I suppose.  He's told me he likes my hair every day since the first day of school.

(I feel like I talk about my students too much.  Do I talk about them too much?  Should I stop?  If it's not funny, I'll stop.  I don't want to be tedious.  That would be the worst thing I could think of.  But, I mean, if it's making you laugh, or even just chuckle, or if you're letting out a quick guffaw and then closing the page, or if you're snorting into your cereal [or is that...yogurt? Yoplait? Or Greek?], then I'll continue.  I have lots of stories about the kids.  I mean, tons.  Like, one dressed up as a dinosaur for the Halloween party we had this weekend, and after he said hi to me he turned to walk away and his tail waggled. Ha!  Ha, ha!  It was the cutest thing!  Ah, I've got a million.  Just wait till I get pregnant and have kids of my own to talk about!  Won't that just be divine?!!)

But now it's Monday.  And I am not at all sure that I have enough snark to get me through a Monday after only one day of weekend, due to our Halloween Party/Harvest Festival on Saturday.  Thus, this picture:

Ha-HA!  Can't remove your spectacles with no thumbs, can you?!
Sucka.

*At least, I think that happened.  It was very late, and sometimes I think hard about doing something but don't actually do it, yet my mind still believes that I did.  I live in a very confusing world.

Images by hellopennylane; Old Print; Life Magazine.

Sunday Snark

Image by Jim Davis and Dan Marsh, via Garfield Minus Garfield.

Dust2Dust

I'm pretty sure the next big thing in the blogosphere will be Elaborate Event Planning: Funerals Edition.  Within the next two years, funerals are expected to overtake weddings as The Affair in a person's life.  These projections are not surprising - after all, not everyone gets married; everyone dies.  In fact, at this very moment, bloggers all across the interwebs may be receiving emails from respected photographers featuring dreamy shots of elegant funerals: dappled sunlight playing across the brave yet peaceful faces of the mourners, some of whom may be lifting a delicate, lace handkerchief to wipe a single tear from under a tasteful, black birdcage veil.  The golden glow of afternoon sunlight glinting off a polished, oak casket as a single white rose is tossed gently into the frame from an unseen hand.  Instead of the usual black, some planners may offer a charcoal color scheme, and, naturally, artsy goth will be all the rage.  And what could be more appropriate for an October death, one might ask, than a Dia de los Muertos theme?  So chic.

You should have seen the invitation suite.
Amaze-f*in-tasticballzsauce.

Then, of course, there will be the DIY, f-the-funeral-industrial-complex group, who just want to send their loved ones off with a bang and throw a kick-ass party in their memory.  Because after all, what matters at the end of the day is that you've buried the one you love.  And danced your faces off.

So, in anticipation of this trend, I will be forming a 90s cover band called Dust2Dust, just to get a jump on the funeral circuit, you know?

Our condolences.

A sample set list, in case you're wondering:

- "Smells Like Teen Spirit"
- "Killing Me Softly"
- "Who Will Save Your Soul"

and, for a little cheek, a rousing chorus of "Haunt Me Baby One More Time."  I think we're gonna be big.



Images via Death, Modernity, and Public Policy; Vampire Freaks.

Not Suitable for...Anywhere.

I think the California heat wave is getting to everyone.  Today, my ass was slapped by a five-year-old boy.

When I turned around, shocked, he winked and said, "Hey, Teach, you wanna hit up the malt shop after school?"  He had to be in bed by seven, but we still managed to have a lovely evening.*

This is probably in poor taste.

*That's gross.


Image via Breeleed.