After careful consideration, I’ve started utilizing my gym membership to a fuller potential. I’ve called upon the strengths of a personal trainer to guide me a bit, and per her suggestion I decided to take a Spinning class. Now for any of you who (like me) think that this sort of class only entails a bunch of overaged, overweight women lazily sitting on a stationary bike for an hour…I would like to educate you a bit…

Due to a higher demand, they require you to call ahead to schedule an “appointment,” so after my workout on Saturday I scheduled the 9:30am Monday class with Lisa G. She sounds friendly enough, right? I choose the hour-long class (as opposed to the regular 45 minute classes) because I figured this may provide me with a little more of a challenge. After all, I AM the girl who rode her bike across the state of Florida in High School with my youth group (let’s forget that that little excursion took place over 10 years ago) and after all, what kind of wimp can’t ride a bicycle for an hour? Little did I know on Saturday that on Sunday night, I would be the proud winner of a sleepless 8 hours full of cramps of epic proportions. Some of you ladies may know what I am speaking of, we are talking biblical pain here. 4 Advil + 2 Tylenol + a heating pad didn’t touch this puppy.  When Chris woke me up at 8:30 (after what little sleep I was able to obtain) to say that he was leaving for work, I was pretty much the crankiest person that has ever lived. Chris sweetly tried to tell me that I have a good excuse if I want to skip the class, and that he’ll even call for me if I want and tell them I’m sick and can’t make it. It was tempting, but I am a trooper. I am woman, let’s hear me roar, right?

So, I drag my butt out of bed and to the gym, being sure to arrive early to meet Lisa G. and have her help me set up my bike. My first impression of Lisa G. is that homegirl is quite possibly the perkiest woman I have ever encountered. Everything about her is perky: Her voice. The bounce in her step. Her breasts are perky. Even her ponytail seems to sit at an unnatural point on her head. She puts on her little Britney-Spears-esqe microphone and introduces herself to me and tells me how glad she is that I am here. I am only slightly self-conscious as the others are filling in and her microphone is booming our conversation about this being my first time in a spinning class, and that I don’t really know what I’m doing, but that I regularly do long cardio sets on the Elliptical trainers and Treadmills so I shouldn’t have any problems keeping up. Lisa G. only smiles at me a bit while I am saying this. I wonder what that smile means while I choose a seat in the front row, the center seat, of course. This is a typical practice of mine in any class I take. I am a bit of an overachiever and I like to give the professor/instructor my full attention. And I am only slightly concerned when I overhear the two people sitting on my right discussing their times on their most recent Marathons/Triathlons and see the T-shirt of the man on my left proudly displaying that he was a contender in the Ironman. But only slightly concerned, right?  Before we even begin I am sitting on my seat, peddling away (following the cues of the Mrs. Triathlete and Mr. Ironman) to warm up, and realizing that my butt REALLY hurts. Already. I peak behind me at the room (that is now filled to it’s 35 person capacity) and notice a number of people using either gel seat-covers, or padded-butt shorts. I also notice that there is not a single over-aged, nor overweight person in the bunch. These people obnoxiously fit Hard-Bodies.  I notice their special little cycling shoes and am faced with a sudden harsh realization that these people ALL look to be professional athletes. I wonder to myself if there is any possibility that I accidentally got placed in the class that is training for the 2008 Olympics. I am beginning to think that maybe this was a bad idea. I start cursing myself for choosing this particular seat. Had I been a bit more strategic (or less cocky, however you want to look at it) I would have chosen a wiser placement possibly towards the back of the room, or even better, in the very back next to the door so I could sneak out and no one would see me.

Lisa G. turns the lights off, and a mini-lazer-lightshow begins. Some rather hip music starts playing, and Lisa G. instructs us to increase our intensity by 3.  She then tells us to pick up the pace and go into “Standing Climb” position (this is exactly as it sounds, you stand on the pedals while leaning forward to the furthest-away handlebars as though you are climbing a steep hill on a mountain bike.)  I notice immediately that my quadriceps are (already) aching but at least my butt is no longer sitting on that dreadful, hard seat (always looking for that silver lining, folks). A chorus of exuberant cyclists yelling “WHEW,” and “WOO-HOO” is bouncing around the room. Lisa G. says “Keep your back neutral and head up people” in her perkiest voice while looking directly at me (who had taken to staring at my handlebars). I correct my position while wishing that I had superpowers to shoot laser beams from my eyes and knock her perky head clean off her perky shoulders. The sudden (horrifying) realization now occurs to me that in this position, the “junk in my trunk” is on display for every one of the 30 people in the rows behind me. I flex my glutes tightly while peddling faster, I can’t let Ironman next to me beat me up the imaginary “hill” by too much. Chaz, a supermodel in the row behind me who is clearly a regular, yells out “Is everyone having fun?” Several “WHEW”s break out throughout the room. Who the heck is this guy?  Whose side is he on, anyway?  I decide that he must be sleeping with Lisa G, because nobody else would be this much of a butt-kisser. I look at the clock…9:42. About 45 minutes left. Lisa G. tells us to go back to ’Position 1’ and increase intensity again, as the music speeds up. She wants us doing 120 rotations per minute and leads us in a count. I am at about 110 and decide that I refuse to go faster unless she allows us to decrease our intensity. At a very appropriate moment, she reads my mind and asks “Are y’all cycling through quicksand?” I stop hating for her only a moment, seeing that she does notice the pained looks on our faces (or possibly just mine), until I hear Her Royal Perkiness say “Then increase intensity and speed because you’re ALMOST working hard enough.”

Urge to kill increasing…

9:47…more than a quarter of the way done…and I am about to pass out. I decide to take my mind off my intense rear-pain and calculate exactly what percentage I am done…It’s now 9:48 and I can’t just say 1/4 done. I need further encouragement so I believe that 18/60ths or 9/30ths is much better. Makes me feel closer to 1/3 which I like. A lot.

Around the one half-mark (or as I prefer to see it, the 11/20ths) I begin to feel a little less like I am going to die. I believe this is what we (professional athletes) like to call “getting over the wall.” My butt is now numb so I hate ’Position 1’ the most but ’Positions 2 and 3’ have both rubbed a huge blister on the side of my left foot so I don’t like them either. I begin thinking up my own positions, such as ’Position 4’ where you stand up on the pedals but don’t actually have to pedal at all, or ’Position 5’ which is really just me standing outside this wretched place dumping the remainder of my Aquafina bottle all over myself. I decide that I like ’Position 5’ the best, and that maybe I should leave it as an (anonymous) suggestion in the comment box. It is now 10:23 and I am literally counting the droplets of sweat on the black floor below my bike…I believe I am up to about 22, which is actually a little less than the 24 below Ironman and the 30ish below Mrs. Triathlete. I experience only a fleeting sense of accomplishment followed by some pretty severe self-loathing while remembering my initial assessment of what a “nice, relaxing break” a spinning class would be from my daily intense Elliptical cardio marathons.  Lisa G. informs us that we have just 30 seconds left, and to push ourselves. I am fighting the urge to flip her the bird.

We finally finish, and the sweaty 30-something ladies behind me tap me on the back and tell me how impressed they are that I made it through the whole thing my first time. Now this type of compliment would usually make my day but at this moment I am plotting a way to punch them both square in the ear for patronizing me. I decide that I may be slightly cranky and it’s best that I just smile sweetly and thank them (I will let the air out of their tires along with Lisa G’s later.) I do feel accomplished. The bright side is that my cramps are now only a distant memory, the less-than-bright side is that my Quads, Hamstrings, and Calves are now informing me that I won’t be able to walk tomorrow…or sit on anything other than a doughnut, for that matter. Overall I consider it a ’character building’ move on my part. On my way out I see my personal trainer. She walks over and asks me if I’ve had a chance to try out that spinning class she recommended. I am overwhelmed by a new-found respect for her, as well as my own personal desire to stab her in the eye. I tell her that I tried it, and that I may even try it again next week…only this time I will only be doing the 45 minute class, and I will be rockin’ a pair of padded-butt shorts.

You live, you learn, right?

I’m alive!

Many of my faithful blog readers (by “faithful blog readers,” I am of course referring to my mother, husband, best friend, and two other guys,) have been asking me why my blog hasn’t been updated in the past umpteen weeks.  The truth is that I did write several posts in this time, but I experienced a bit of a Wordpress-Tastrophe and something terrible happened to them.  I’m not sure if they were the undeserving victim of some sort of blog-terrorism, or maybe one of those roaming wild cyber-boars came along and ate them…I honestly can’t say.  What I do know, is that after searching for them to no avail, the perfectionist in me didn’t want to post anything new until the old ones were located.  Once the reality sank in that my dear little posts were not coming back, I decided I will just have to re-write them.  This will take some time, so please bear with me while I catch up a bit.  The last couple of months have been the busiest that my business has experienced to date, so I have a LOT of projects to write about.  In the mean time, I may post one or two archived articles from an old personal blog that I wrote years ago.  They don’t pertain to photography in any way, but they are a fun read anyway (fun in that they show how insanely ridiculous I am, and you may get a good chuckle at my expense.)  Enjoy!

Hugs,

Jewels

I have a million things to do.

Well, more like 897,238 things…but I figured I’d just round up.  You see, I promised Hubs that I wouldn’t bring work with me on our vacation (I did anyway, but not too much), so I’m feeling a little behind.  Yesterday morning, while I was composing an email to a new client, I looked up from my laptop to see Spencer sitting across the room, flipping through a book by himself.  He was quietly “reading” to himself (whispering words that he remembered being on that page), and must have sensed me watching him because he looked up and caught my eye.  We smiled at each other for a minute, and I felt a pain in my heart.  Why am I sitting all the way across the room from this adorable baby?  Why aren’t I snuggling him this very minute?  Why does he tolerate my workaholic-ness so sweetly?

I shut my laptop, looked back at the loving gaze of my baby, and said “I’m all yours.”

I quickly devised a plan for our day.  I wanted it to be a little different than our usual walking-around-the-neighborhood, or strolling through the outdoor mall, or throwing the ball around the basement.  Today had to be a little special.  After over-thinking it for about 20 minutes (what? me over-thinking something?  preposterous!) I decided that the best way to make today special and different was to let Spencer be the one to make the plans.  This may seem a little “of course” to some of you, but for a control freak like myself it was actually physically painful to put that much control in the hands of a toddler.

I simply asked “What do you want to do today?” and our plan took shape.

We started out by heading to Target to pick up a few supplies.

1.  New Huge Ball

2.  Bubble Machine

3.  A few bottles of cold Aquafina

4.  Two of those shiny handheld pinwheels (two, since at only $1 a-piece, there was no doubt that one of them would be broken by the time we got in the car)

5.  A personal pizza to share from the little pizza-hut counter in Target (Yes, yes, I KNOW Pizza Hut is disgusting and greasy and the polar opposite of his usual organic fare.  However, yesterday was *special* and I think it’s okay to leave the over-protective mommy in me at home every now and then and let the boy live a little.  Don’t judge.  ; ))  I also brought us two apples and some carrot sticks.

Once we had our supplies, we headed out to a local park and set up a nice picnic blanket.  We noshed on greasy pizza and apple slices, had a mini-science lesson about how the wind works to spin the pinwheel, and tossed the ball around.  After lunch it was “Bubble Time!”  The bubble-machine must have blown thousands of those shining, floating, sparkly orbs and my little man didn’t rest until every one was popped.  He squealed with delight while jumping around screaming “Get-it!” “Get-it!”

My heart was so full of love for him, I swear it almost burst on the spot.

After the bubbles, we played on the playground for a bit, and then headed home.  We enjoyed a few quiet-time books, followed by a few rounds of “You Are My Sunshine” and “Jesus Loves Me” (both requested by him)  When I put him down in his crib he requested one last hug and kiss, and then did the sign for “I love you” and said “I Loowwww.”  My heart.

Yes, he makes a very perfect little date.  And in case you’re wondering why I don’t have any photos posted of our day, it’s because I intentionally didn’t bring my camera.  You see, I believe in the importance of capturing *life* and memories with my camera, but I also know that sometimes I can get so wrapped up in the shot, that I forget that LIFE is taking place.  Yesterday was about him.  And, let’s face it, that little smile is much more adorable in person, than through the viewfinder of my Nikon.

Hugs,

Jewels

I recently had the pleasure of photographing one of my favorite families for the second time.  We met Shannon and Kyler at our Bradley Birthing Class, and I blogged about our last session together HERE. Since that last shoot, little Makenzie has gotten quite a bit bigger, and has become a big sister!  Shannon and Kyler have asked me to do a family shoot for them later this summer, involving their extended families, but they didn’t want to miss out on capturing the sweetness of this 4 month old age that their new little peanut is experiencing.

So without further ado, I would like to introduce the fabulous Emma…

She is adorable and happy and has the  most beautiful big blue eyes you’ve ever seen.

Okay, well she is happy *most* of the time…

She has a very loving Mommy…                                                                                                                     …and Daddy.

…and a VERY sweet big sister, Makenzie.

Yep, they are one cute family.

I just think this next one is wicked awesome…

I have good friends.  I’m not just talkin’ “good friends,” like people that care about me a lot and I have fun with.  I’m talkin’ GOOD friends…as in “I’m not afraid to call you out when you’re being a jerk” or “I’ll have an awkward conversation with you when I think you need to get your butt back to church” or  ”I’ll wake up at 5am to drive you to the airport so you can save $30 cab fare, ya cheapskate…” kinds of friends.  I adore my friends.

Catherine is one of them.

I blogged about my longtime friendship with Catherine here, when I did their first family session.  Unfortunately I have been a terrible friend lately, and have been so caught up in all of my other “gigs,” that I haven’t bothered to offer to shoot her beautiful growing family.  Catherine is expecting baby #2 in August, so when we had both of our families up in DC for the weekend together last weekend, the poor girl finally asked me “I hate to put more work on your plate, but can you please take a few photos of us and my growing belly?”  GAH!  I can’t believe I made her ask that!  Epic. Friend. Fail.  I should have offered a long time ago, so of course I was thrilled to do a quick 10-minute mini-session with her, her awesome hubby Eric, their sweet little Joshua, and baby #2 (who happened to be hiding behind Catherine’s ever-expanding abdomen.)  We had terrible weather (light rain, harsh mid-day light, storm moving in,) so we kept it quick-n-dirty.  I owe her a real session later this summer.  Here are a few shots of some of our dearest friends…

REALLY love this next one…

Here Joshua is showing us his “baby.”

We all stayed with my parents, so of course my mom, a.k.a.”Nana Bonnie,” had to get a little lovin’ from both boys…

I know I’m partial, but isn’t my best friend beautiful?!?!

Hugs,

~Jewels

In photography, the term “The Rule Of Thirds” refers to the composition of a photo.  A photographer is challenged to envision an imaginary grid that divides the scene into 3 rows and 3 columns, forming 9 equal parts.  Then, we are told that if we place our subject, or other important compositional elements along these lines (or, bonus, their intersections) we will have composed a more interesting photo.  It’s all quite technical, and to be completely honest, I have always found that my best images are created when I don’t “over-think” it.  What?  Julie is capable of NOT over-thinking something?  Crazy talk!

The Rule of Thirds is a helpful rule of thumb for photographers, but it’s not what I’m referring to today.  Today I’m talking about thirds, threes, a few.  When talking about family, three really is company.  When I first met with Amber and Jay to discuss their photography needs, they brought Amber’s adorable eight-year-old son, Roman.  They mentioned how important it was for Roman to be involved in their photos, because this union wasn’t really just about them, it was about the creation of a family.  Becoming a threesome.

I immediately loved this couple for several reasons:  1.  They laughed at my jokes.  2.  They were having a beach wedding, and really who doesn’t love a beach wedding?  3.  They were the sweetest, most easy-going people I have met in a long time.  4.  Amber starts her emails to me with phrases like “Dear Sweet Jewels”  GAH!  LOVE HER!  4.  Did I mention that they laughed at my jokes?

Amber and Jay wanted their engagement session to be in a more urban setting, so I scouted a few locations downtown and in the end we ended up spending a lovely afternoon together in Shockoe Bottom.  I loved the lines of all the cool old architecture and overpasses, and  how the city juxtaposed so nicely with the softness of Canal Walk.  Perfection.  Amber and Jay pretty much laughed the entire time, and Roman had a great time collecting little souvenirs like bits of railroad, and other general “boy things.”  One of my favorites parts to our time together was watching the way that Jay and his soon-to-be-stepson related to one another.  It may not be on paper yet, but those boys are already family in every way that counts.  Amber and Jay are such an incredible couple, and their love of life and laughter is obviously reflected in their parenthood.  Roman is a lucky young man.

So here are a few of the photos we captured during my engagement/family session with these lovely people.  I hope they had as much fun as I did (how could they not, with all my hilarious jokes, right??)

Amber, Jay, and Roman: You guys are absolutely amazing.  I had such a great time laughing with you guys all afternoon, and I can’t wait for your wedding.  You guys are truly  beautiful people and it’s an honor to be working with you (and thanks for laughing at my stupid jokes…I know it was a chore…my ego appreciates it.)

Hugs,

~Jewels

I’ve been thankful lately.  Thankful for my home.  Thankful for my family.  Thankful for all the “things” I’ve been blessed with.  Thankful for the knowledge that while I may appreciate those “things,” I would still have a happy and blessed life without them.  Thankful for our health.  Thankful for the weather.  Thankful.

I’ve decided to start a weekly post of the things I’m thankful for, as well as a few things I’m not-so-much thankful for.  Enjoy…

*TRADER JOE’S. I went public with my love affair for TJ’s a long time ago, but I swear, every time I leave that place I have a smile on my face.  Between the fresh, inexpensive organic produce, the incredible bran muffins with only 5 (all healthy) ingredients and no preservatives (tres tasty,) the abundance of healthy prepared foods that I can whip up in a pinch, and the $5/bottle Shiraz that is so good it’s being raved about on wine blogs, I am in heaven there.  Top it off with tasty samples of food, chocolates, coffees, wines, and cheeses every day and a friendly, knowledgeable staff that greets me with a geniune smile and gives my kid a ginger or whole wheat cookie and a sticker “just because he’s cute and he deserves it,” and I’m a fan for life.  I walk away feeling like I’ve made healthy choices for my family, underpaid while doing so, and was treated like a queen.  Can I get an amen?!?

*APPLE.  The fruit and the store, both yes.  This weekend we had some good friends visit us from DC and of course we ended up at everyone’s favorite outdoor mall, Short Pump.  We quickly navigated to the Apple store, where we played with iPads and MacPro’s, while visions of QuadCores danced in Hub’s head.  I am a PC-to-Mac convert as of 2007, and I could NEVER go back.  The high quality and reliability of the products, the intuitive operating systems, the amazing support, and the cool, laid back staff is a huge hit with me.  I frequently hear people say “why would you pay almost twice as much for a Mac?”  All I can say is that I didn’t get it, until I owned one.  Think about how many converts there are like me, and then consider whether you’ve ever met anyone that was a mac user (owned and used one for at least a year) who switched to PC…I’ve never met a single one.  It’s like those old bumper stickers that said “It’s a jeep thing, you wouldn’t understand.”  It’s totally a Mac thing.

*THE COOL SIDE OF THE PILLOW.  Laugh all you want…but when you wake up at 3am tomorrow feeling just the tiniest bit warm under the covers, few things in life feel better than flipping your pillow over to get that nice, cool sensation on your neck.  Makes me want to take a nap just thinking about it..

*VERIZON NOT CARRYING THE IPHONE.  While we’re on the subject of Apple…I have to know, why can’t those kids and Verizon play nicely and get together?  I have been waiting for the past 2 years for Verizon (and Apple) to get on the ball and make this happen,, and it’s getting a little ridiculous.  I long for the iPhone.  Hubs has one for work, and how I love it so.  I have an iPod Touch, which is similar, only no phone, and I absolutely love that device.  I use it as a PDA,, but it vexes me to no end that I have to carry both that AND my stinking phone with me everywhere…why can’t they be one in the same?  Before you go sending me messages about whose fault it is that they won’t work together, or how great your Blackberry is (yours must be the only good one they made) or how you get fine coverage with your crappy AT&T, just know YOU CAN’T FOOL ME!  AT&T stinks, and so does the Blackberry.  If Steve Jobs and Mr. Verizon CEO are reading this (and I’m sure they are) let me share a little tip that maybe you’re missing…Quality Snobs are Quality Snobs.  Period.  I pay more for Apple products because I am a Quality Snob.  In that same regard, I spend more on my cell plan because once again, I’m a Quality Snob and Verizon is absolutely the most reliable carrier there is.  I refuse to own a fun, sexy little cell phone that only makes clear calls about 70% of the time.  Sorry, not good enough.  Now, Steve and Mr. V: I’ve heard the rumors, let’s get to work and make this happen!

*TWITTER.  Simply put, I feel like I’m about 90 when I get on Twitter.  I haven’t the foggiest clue what is taking place on that website.  All the @so-and-so’s and crazy lingo, not to mention the teenager-texting-abbreviations like using “4″ for “for” and “bcs” for “because”…seriously people!  Kudos to you, Twitter, for making me feel like the oldest and least-cool person alive.

I hope you all have a dandy weekend!  Hugs!

~Jewels

Shannon and Ryan are great friends.  Not in the same way as all of my clients become friends, because they do, but Shannon and Ryan have been friends for a long time.  We go WAAAYYYY back.  One might even say that I’m responsible for their union (one would be lying, of course, but one could pretend.)  Okay, so I may not exactly be “responsible,” but I did play a tiny role.

Shannon and I went to high school together.  We shared a few of the same classes, we sat in the Senior Lunchroom together, and I drove her to school occasionally in my 1989 Toyota Tercel Hatchback (awwwwww yeaaahhhhh!)  It comfortably fit 2 people, and could uncomfortably cram 4…I regularly hauled between 5-9 people in that thing, and all you could see was extremities tangled up in the hatchback.  Those were good times, and Shannon was such a good and patient friend.

(Bwahahahaha!  I managed to locate a photo of us getting ready for our senior prom.  Not exactly sure why I look like I’ve just swallowed an entire bottle of Sudafed…it’s whatever…)

In college we played on a local soccer team together.  She was good…I was not.  When she was looking for a job, the summer after high-school graduation, I helped get her a job at my movie theater where I worked.  She was interviewed by a fellow redhead by the name of Ryan, who basically was prepared to offer her the job the minute he met her.  On her first day working there, she made approximately 8,000 mistakes in the box office, and the General Manager made Ryan go clean up after her mixups, since he was responsible for hiring this crazy girl.  The flirting began that evening, and it wasn’t long before I started noticing that when the three of us would walk out to the parking lot together, that I was feeling a bit like a third wheel.   I may or may not have meddled (a lot) in their budding romance, by nudging them to “go for it!” and separating them .  Soon thereafter, a relationship began.  They were each other’s first loves, and they were adorable together.

For reasons not entirely understood by any of us, a couple of years later they cooled off a bit.  They were both transferring to different schools, and figuring out who they were as individuals.  They both went in separate directions, and lost contact.  They each learned valuable life lessons during that time, and eventually graduated and started careers.  They each had built a whole life for themself, but there was always something (someone) missing.

Fast-forward a half-decade when a little harmless myspace-stalking turned into a “let’s get together sometime for coffee.”  Shannon and I hadn’t stayed in touch very well throughout the years, but it just so happened that our first time meeting up in years happened to be at a bar where a certain Mr. Ryan’s band was playing.  We danced to his music and made bad jokes about how we hoped he was standing on stage thinking “Dang, my ex is looking GOOOOD!”  On the way home, I got the distinct suspicion that she was feeling a bit nostalgic.  Sure enough, a few weeks later we got together again for July 4th, and surprise-surprise…she invited none other than her newfound friend Mr. Ryan!  <SHOCKING!>  Shameless flirting ensued, and I knew that night that this was it for them.  I still remember her telling me that they were possibly going to start dating again…”we’re going to take it really slow.”  Yeah, right!  They were head-over-heels in love by the time she ended that sentence.  They were each other’s first loves, and now they were each other’s forever loves.  The love remained all those years, yet allowing growth, maturity, and a wealth of other lessons they had to learn separately, but that helped them in the end to be better to each other.

I absolutely love these two.  I love the selfless way they treat one another, and the way they look at each other.  I love that when only an hour before their wedding he announced to me that he was going to not wear his vest, and was going to wear his fun casual shoes for the whole ceremony, I was thinking “Hurmpf…yeah right, like making a change that big only an hour before ‘go time’ would ever fly with any bride!”…but her response was simply “Sure, tell him to do whatever makes him happy.”

What???  Really??  Now THAT’S love!

Here are a few images from their wedding

Shannon and Ryan really valued getting great portraits of them on their wedding day, so they decided to do a “first look” and see each other before the ceremony.  I truly believe this is one of the most wonderful decisions a bride and groom can make, because not only does it allow for adequate time to take all the gorgeous photos we wanted, but it also makes that first moment seeing each other incredibly special because that moment is just about “them,” and they don’t have the nerves of being in front of the crowd.  And seriously, just look at the look on Ryan’s face when Shannon first snuck up behind him…is that love or what?!?

WORK IT, girl!

Shannon and Ryan, I love you both oodles of noodles.  I had so much fun getting to know you guys again throughout your engagement and wedding, and I wish you both a lifetime of lovin’ (and lots of cheese ; )

Hugs,

Jewels

ROCKSTAR VENDORS THAT I HAD THE PLEASURE OF WORKING WITH:

*The gorgeous Lansdowne Resort.  Their banquet manager Lindsay was such a sweetheart and incredibly accommodating.

*My lovely and talented second photographer Natasha Maluso of Natasha Naomi Photography

* Grayson Entertainment did a great job DJing, and kept the party going quite nicely.

(If you’re a friend or client, please feel free to ignore this post because it’s mostly meant for Spencer. You see, this blog is as much for me, to document my life, as it is for you to get to know me. This one is for my Little Man.)

My sweet little Spencer,

I want to thank you for ruining yet another tube of lip balm today. I’m actually not saying this in a sarcastic tone (which is rare for your mommy, as she tends to do the sarcasm thing a bit often,) but in an honest, heartfelt way. Thank you.

You see, I had thrown away the other two tubes of lip balm that you pulverized with that chunky little baby finger of yours. I went to use them and as I turned the base to get to advance the stick out of the tube, I pressed it to my lips and received a lovely surprise of a giant, mooshy, chunky mess of goo on my lips. I caught your eye across the room and you giggled, knowing you had played a part in the funny look on Mommy’s face.  Then I asked in my most animated way “Did you stick your dirty baby fingers in my lip balm again, you little stinker?!”  and pounced on you, “punishing” you with a thousand tickles.  You squealed with delight.  I whispered to myself “remember this moment,” as I do every time you do something adorable that makes my soul smile.  God, I love you.

Of course, the lip balm was hosed, so I tossed it in the garbage, went to the hall closet where I keep spares of everything, and grabbed a new one.  It wasn’t until a few days later, when I was using some nice, un-mashed lip balm, that I remembered how silly you are for enjoying sticking your fingers into the sticky tubes and smashing the solid balm into a soft, gooey mess.  I laughed to myself and suddenly became a little sad that I didn’t keep the tube as a memento.

SPENCER TO THE RESCUE!

You must have read my mind, because only two days later, I saw you walk by holding something that looked remarkably like my lip balm.  I keep it up on top of my nightstand, so I have no idea how you swiped it, then concealed it on your person when I carried you down the stairs, but you are pretty stealthy like that.  By the time I reached you, there was no hope for the Blistex.  The Blistex had been compromised.

You should know that while writing this, I thanked God for you no less than five times.  You are my heart.  You are my life.  You bring me more joy than I ever thought a smelly little bald man could.

Hugs (and “noses”)

~”Momma”

There are “Vegas People,” and there are “Not-So-Vegas People.” I’ve never experienced Vegas, but have always considered myself to be the latter. I’m not a big gambler (too much of a wimp) and since large quantities of liquor and prostitutes haven’t been my thing since college (y’all know that’s a joke, right?) I’ve never really felt a strong desire to go. However, I’ve always felt like Vegas would be a really cool place to experience ONCE. I wanted to see all the gorgeous architecture and design of the casinos, watch the fountain display at the Bellagio, take in a Cirque du Soleil show, take some rockstar photos in the Neon Graveyard, and maybe ride the roller coaster on top of the Stratosphere. Maybe catch a celebrity sighting of Wayne Newton or Donnie Osmond (I’ve had a mega-crush on Donnie since I was a kid.)  Yes, I suppose Vegas would be a fun place to visit once.  So…

When I found out that the annual WPPI (Wedding & Portrait Photographers International) Convention was being held in Vegas, I was in!  Since I knew I wouldn’t have much fun spending an entire week alone in Sin City (can you imagine how much trouble I could get myself into?!?) I made Hubs come with.  He was a little hesitant at first (when given the choice between spending money on travel, or something tangible (new 50inch flat-panel TV, anyone?) he would always rather spend it on some fun gadget) but at the end of the trip he was so glad he went.  We had a great time!

We got a bit of a rocky start, when our flight out of Richmond was delayed by 6 hours (yes, 6 HOURS!!!)  Apparently our plane’s computer thought it was on fire, even though it wasn’t, so it wouldn’t move.  Crazy, huh?  The JetBlue folks were so incredibly nice and hospitable though, they bought us all pizzas and we had a mini party right there in the terminal.  The bad news is that we missed our connecting flight in NY, so by the time we got up there around 1:30am, JetBlue put us up in a hotel for the night but we had to be back at JFK by 4am.  We got less than 2 hours of sleep, and really weren’t able to sleep on the plane at all.  It was a little rough, but thankfully our buddies at JetBlue were so thankful for Chris’ and my kindness about the whole delay-debacle (most people were being real jerks about it…as if they could do anything about it) that they upgraded us.  Silver lining, folks!  We hailed a cab at the Vegas airport to take us to our Hotel.  I knew the MGM Grand was basically a stones throw from the airport, and I had read online to not let them take you “through the tunnel,” so when “Cabbie Mike” asked me when the last time we had been in Vegas was, I lied and responded “about a year and a half, I think.”  Sometimes I scare myself with well I can lie when the rare occasion permits it.  I didn’t want him to think he could scam us by taking us the long way.  Well…sure enough…he took us through the tunnel.  Our ride cost twice what it should have.  Thankfully I kept the receipt so I can report him to the Nevada Taxi Cab Authority.  Crook…

Going on a total of about 6 hours sleep for the past 3 days, we were a little delirious once we got to the hotel, but we got some lunch, a shower, and a nap, and felt fairly restored.  We toured several casinos, which was fun, and went that night to see Kevin James do standup comedy.  Seriously, you all, if you ever have an opportunity to see Kevin do standup you MUST go!  It was surprisingly clean (especially for Vegas) and absolutely hilarious.  The only part of the evening that was a little “meh” was the copious amounts of breasts.  Let me explain…

Since prostitution is legal in Vegas, but they are not allowed to solicit on The Strip, the way they get around that is by hiring these creepy little guys to stand on the strip (at least 4-8 of them along every block) wearing shirts that say “Girls to you in less than 15 minutes, call xxx-xxxx” and they hand out these little “business cards” to everyone walking by.  You have to keep your hands tucked because they will actually force them into your hands as you walk by.  These business cards usually feature a phone number, and a full-frontal nude photo of a hooker.  I suppose many people either grab the card unknowingly or take it just to get a cheap glance, but then just toss them on the ground because everywhere you look, all you see are naked women all over the ground.  On the south end of the strip there isn’t a single square inch that isn’t plastered with those cards.  I swear, I have never seen so many boobs in my life.  At one point Hubs tripped off a curb for the third time, and I asked him if there was something wrong with his shoes and he said “No, I’m trying to keep my head up and not look down out of respect for you!”  Hahaha…poor guy.  Poor sweet amazing guy.

Aside from the excessive boobage, and the awful churning I kept getting in my stomach thinking about the fact that those poor girls were someone’s daughter, and how dehumanizing it must be to be in their position (Call me a prude if you want, but I couldn’t shake that thought all night), I really enjoyed touring the strip with my man.  We played a few slot machines at the Bellagio and I found out why they call it “the one armed bandit.”  I was hooked!  I only blew about 5 dollars total (I was actually quite good, so I made my money last for a while), and then Hubs decided that if he left Vegas without playing “with the big boys,” he would feel like he missed out, so we played a little Craps.  We actually did really well at that, doubling our money at one point.  Of course, the whole thing stressed the heck out of me and I kept saying “Look, we’re up to $70, let’s cash in!”  Hubs would just laugh at me and say “relax, we’re not doing this to make money, remember, we’re doing this for entertainment and with the full expectation of losing this money.”  He’s so cool.  We did end up losing all but $5-10, but it was worth it.  We played for a good couple of hours and had a great time.

Of course, the conference was by far the best part of our trip.  I spent the better part of four days taking numerous classes that were taught by the incredible leaders of our industry.  I got to meet several of them, shake their hands, and have stayed in touch with a few.  I know that most of my (non-photog) friends and clients have never heard of most of these people, but they are like the Brad Pitts, Tom Cruises, Jennifer Anistons and Lady Gaga’s of the photography world.  If you are a photographer who was unable to make it to WPPI this year, please feel free to contact me and I’d be happy to take you out for tea and give you some of the highlights.  It was absolutely outstanding, and I left there with so much hope and excitement for what the next year will hold for my business.  I have so many incredible ideas that I plan to implement in my business as soon as I get a chance to catch my breath.  I also met some of the kindest people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting there, and they inspired me to make my business about helping others.  One quote I’ve always loved from David Jay’s father is “If you make your business about helping others, you’ll never be out of business.”  LOVE that!

Here is my favorite photo from the trip.  Hubs left one day earlier than I did, so while I was packing my bags, I checked the safe to make sure Chris didn’t leave anything in there.  We had all kinds of expensive camera equipment in the room, some jewelry, laptops, etc, but THIS is what Hubs put in the safe!!!  He was obviously quite concerned that the cleaning crew was willing to lose their nice MGM Grand jobs in order to steal our 83cents.  Oh geez…

Hugs,

~Jewels