Okay, so most people know one thing in particular about me...
I love Love. Yes, I love everything about love. I love how it makes my tummy turn flips inside with butterflies. I love that anxious excitement that comes from spending time with that "special someone". I love the world "love." Just say it...luh, uh, v. Doesn't it sound pretty? I love the meaning behind that word. That simply-complex, incapable to understand, makes you want to yell from a rooftop, never felt anything like it before, makes you cry happy tears...feeling. Then, not to mention the history of love. I mean really. God IS love. Has there ever been a more powerful statement? I think not.
I love watching people in love. Their eyes light up. They smile a certain way. They put off this glow that shines from the inside out. Love affects everyone. It can never be restricted or defined. I love to remember things about love. I love to think back about times I've had in the past with people I've loved. I love to sit and sip on warm cocoa to remember lovely Christmas evenings with the people I love. I love to reminisce about times when love meant so many different things. Friendship love, puppy love, first loves...the sparks of hand-holding, the fear of kissing for the first time, the flickering light bulb that brightens when I realized what true love really was. It's just...love.
Well, all of this love-talking makes me wish I had all of those loves documented for me in a little file that I could pull out and remember what made me, well, me. I could show my children someday that love runs deep-and-wide and comes-and-goes. Most importantly, I could recognize from the file when my life changed and I found my everlasting love.
Photography is one of my biggest passions. I used to worry, "What if people don't like my pictures?" or, "What if I get rejected?" However, God has the amazing ability to grant you with talent and loves to pursue. Now, I ask myself, "Why wouldn't someone want to work with a person that would absolutely adore nothing less than to take photographs of them to capture THEIR story. They make the picture...not me! Why wouldn't people like the pictures that I spend hours of effort poured into making them perfect...just for them! If worse comes to worse...everyone gets rejected atProxy-Connection: keep-alive
Cache-Control: max-age=0
ome point. It just wasn't meant to be."
Behind my lens, I get to envelop every emotion into one beautiful storyline of pictures to place into a book and help write a fairy tale of love that can be pulled out and shared with all sorts of people. I get to write the story for the world to see and bring love to life.
A picture's worth a thousand words, but a love story is priceless.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Shoo, Bug...Don't Bother Me (It's No Bueno)
Well after a long day of one of the worst migraines of my life, I headed out to see my family and grab some office supplies for a presentation the next day. After dinner at Taco Bueno (a FORMER favorite restaurant of mine), I hit the after Valentine's Day sale at our local Tar-jay with my big sis.
Much to my dismay, the store was lacking in the pink goodness that comes with Valentine's Day. However, I will count it as a blessing that I was able to pad the pocketbook with extra change not spent. My sister even found my supplies on clearance and I spent a total of $2.28+tax on exactly what I needed.
As soon as we checked out at the counter, my three-year-old niece was rounding the part of the evening where she has to be totally wired or else she will pass out from exhaustion. Hence the rushed exit from the store to get her into the car and back home.
I, on the other hand, made a stop back by my parents' house to wrap up some coursework and tune into the Olympics. Somehow it seems more exciting when there is a "crowd" rather than a cuddle of sleepy pups in my lap. Although, I wished I could have had both.
After a couple of runs on the competitions, my stomach began to convince me that Taco Bueno was no longer "more bueno". Instead, I felt the deep part of my belly wanting to scream something terrible at me. I made the decision that if I got in bed, the pain would stop (no such luck).
On the contrary. As soon as I plowed through the door, my body hit the cold tile, and my stomach had won the battle by forcing the no-longer-delicious food back into my throat and into the commode. Bad deal...bad, bad, bad deal.
After hours of excruciating regurgitation, my fingers found my cell phone and managed to dial the one voice I wanted nearby. Mr. IcareaboutyoumorethananythingonEarth rushed off of work and was by my side in no time (although it felt like a really long time while I was waiting). He slumped in behind me, tucked blankets around me to stop the shivering, dampened washcloth after washcloth, and put up with my pitiful self for over EIGHT HOURS of non-stop vomiting. Yes, I thought I was GOING TO DIE.
He tried to put me to bed (on several occassions) to get me "more comfortable". He offered to change doggie bags so I wouldn't be confined to the cold tile that surrounded me. He brought me numerous water bottles, fixed my tooth brush, handed me the pepto, and even sent out concerned messages for advice to some of the most knowledgable people we know: A) My mother and B) The neighbor across the street that is also a nurse and mother of 2 beautiful girls. If neither of them could calm me, I told Mr. I'mtryingeverythingtohelp that I was going to make him take me to the ER. Fortunately, he knew what was best and continued to work with me until the cycles went from 5minutes to 10minutes and I finally fell asleep.
Morning wasn't much better. The phonecall had already been made to my doctor, and a prescription was on its way. The neighbor had also brought some relief over and I managed to suck it up and take the medicine (not exactly the easy swallow-with-a-swig-of-water medicine either). Through the aches and frustration, Mr. Senseofhumor managed to get a giggle out of my sore ribs when discussing my experience of taking medicine "in the out". I got some rest while I could, and he checked on me continuously over the next day and a half.
"If you want to truly know a person, put them in an emergency with the person they love the most...that's when you see who they really are." I never believed what people had said in the past, but I realize now just how right they were. I am so blessed to be in a relationship with someone that I can trust my life with. Honestly, I don't know if you caught it before...but I thought I WAS GOING TO DIE.
He not only rushed to my side, but he held my hair when I got sick. He turned the heater up and helped me as I went back-and-forth from the bed to the bathroom, to the floor, to the bed. He talked me through everything. He made sure to take care of me and wouldn't leave me even when he knew I was going to be okay. He brought me bouillon cubes and cooked them so I would "drink plenty of fluids". He forced me to drink it even when I whined. He held me and let me cry when I couldn't get my body to stop shaking. Most importantly, he never let me down.
Well, 3 days later and I'm finally out of the house. I admit I may have overdone it today, but I got to see the sunshine and tried to eat something of substance. *Note to reader(s) and self: Yogurt is NOT a good choice if nausea is involved. Who knew?
After all is said and done, I did not die. (You were worried, right?)
I may be days behind in the college world (Don't people factor in...ummm...reality in the "tentative schedule"?) I've got a couple of projects to makeup, and exams that I still feel unprepared for due to the fact that I am so scatterbrained that I put shredded cheese into my parents' pantry and a bag of chips in the refrigerator crisper. This is one time where my sanity can seriously be questioned. However, I am bound-and-determined to make it out of this mess of a week with a vengeance and straight A's like before.
On a different note, the scale officially reads 8lbs less than before, and my ribs feel like they could break at any minute if I tap into the wrong thing. This makes me feel a little better about the fact that I was a bigger baby than I should have been and that my stomach "bug" was legitimately there. BUT I am alive and kicking and blessed with the life I have. So until next time...Shoo Bug, don't bother me!
Much to my dismay, the store was lacking in the pink goodness that comes with Valentine's Day. However, I will count it as a blessing that I was able to pad the pocketbook with extra change not spent. My sister even found my supplies on clearance and I spent a total of $2.28+tax on exactly what I needed.
As soon as we checked out at the counter, my three-year-old niece was rounding the part of the evening where she has to be totally wired or else she will pass out from exhaustion. Hence the rushed exit from the store to get her into the car and back home.
I, on the other hand, made a stop back by my parents' house to wrap up some coursework and tune into the Olympics. Somehow it seems more exciting when there is a "crowd" rather than a cuddle of sleepy pups in my lap. Although, I wished I could have had both.
After a couple of runs on the competitions, my stomach began to convince me that Taco Bueno was no longer "more bueno". Instead, I felt the deep part of my belly wanting to scream something terrible at me. I made the decision that if I got in bed, the pain would stop (no such luck).
On the contrary. As soon as I plowed through the door, my body hit the cold tile, and my stomach had won the battle by forcing the no-longer-delicious food back into my throat and into the commode. Bad deal...bad, bad, bad deal.
After hours of excruciating regurgitation, my fingers found my cell phone and managed to dial the one voice I wanted nearby. Mr. IcareaboutyoumorethananythingonEarth rushed off of work and was by my side in no time (although it felt like a really long time while I was waiting). He slumped in behind me, tucked blankets around me to stop the shivering, dampened washcloth after washcloth, and put up with my pitiful self for over EIGHT HOURS of non-stop vomiting. Yes, I thought I was GOING TO DIE.
He tried to put me to bed (on several occassions) to get me "more comfortable". He offered to change doggie bags so I wouldn't be confined to the cold tile that surrounded me. He brought me numerous water bottles, fixed my tooth brush, handed me the pepto, and even sent out concerned messages for advice to some of the most knowledgable people we know: A) My mother and B) The neighbor across the street that is also a nurse and mother of 2 beautiful girls. If neither of them could calm me, I told Mr. I'mtryingeverythingtohelp that I was going to make him take me to the ER. Fortunately, he knew what was best and continued to work with me until the cycles went from 5minutes to 10minutes and I finally fell asleep.
Morning wasn't much better. The phonecall had already been made to my doctor, and a prescription was on its way. The neighbor had also brought some relief over and I managed to suck it up and take the medicine (not exactly the easy swallow-with-a-swig-of-water medicine either). Through the aches and frustration, Mr. Senseofhumor managed to get a giggle out of my sore ribs when discussing my experience of taking medicine "in the out". I got some rest while I could, and he checked on me continuously over the next day and a half.
"If you want to truly know a person, put them in an emergency with the person they love the most...that's when you see who they really are." I never believed what people had said in the past, but I realize now just how right they were. I am so blessed to be in a relationship with someone that I can trust my life with. Honestly, I don't know if you caught it before...but I thought I WAS GOING TO DIE.
He not only rushed to my side, but he held my hair when I got sick. He turned the heater up and helped me as I went back-and-forth from the bed to the bathroom, to the floor, to the bed. He talked me through everything. He made sure to take care of me and wouldn't leave me even when he knew I was going to be okay. He brought me bouillon cubes and cooked them so I would "drink plenty of fluids". He forced me to drink it even when I whined. He held me and let me cry when I couldn't get my body to stop shaking. Most importantly, he never let me down.
Well, 3 days later and I'm finally out of the house. I admit I may have overdone it today, but I got to see the sunshine and tried to eat something of substance. *Note to reader(s) and self: Yogurt is NOT a good choice if nausea is involved. Who knew?
After all is said and done, I did not die. (You were worried, right?)
I may be days behind in the college world (Don't people factor in...ummm...reality in the "tentative schedule"?) I've got a couple of projects to makeup, and exams that I still feel unprepared for due to the fact that I am so scatterbrained that I put shredded cheese into my parents' pantry and a bag of chips in the refrigerator crisper. This is one time where my sanity can seriously be questioned. However, I am bound-and-determined to make it out of this mess of a week with a vengeance and straight A's like before.
On a different note, the scale officially reads 8lbs less than before, and my ribs feel like they could break at any minute if I tap into the wrong thing. This makes me feel a little better about the fact that I was a bigger baby than I should have been and that my stomach "bug" was legitimately there. BUT I am alive and kicking and blessed with the life I have. So until next time...Shoo Bug, don't bother me!
Friday, February 12, 2010
Never Knock Out Your Front Tooth...
Any other week, Friday would be a wonderful day. This week...not so much. I woke up bright and early to go to the dentist to finally get my "permanent tooth" after my Christmas day incident. The first thing that popped into my head as I opened my eyes was, "I get a new tooth today!" I was so, so excited.
Unfortunately, once I was in the chair they decided to do a root canal while they were at it. Gee Doc....thanks so much.
Bad deal.
First of all, I've never had a root canal in my life. Those things hurt! Bad! On top of the awful pain of having someone stick an orange-colored stick inside of what was left of my perfectly shaped tooth, you are dealing with a person that is obsessed with teeth. Call me crazy, but I take pride in the little white pearls that were so graciously given to me by the good Lord himself. I mean, I brush multiple times a day to ensure they are clean and shiny white. Seems sensible, right?
Apparently there are no people on the face of the planet that have white teeth besides me. At least that's what my dentist made it sound like. It was such an inconvenience to try to "match" my new tooth with my current tooth-color. They started mixing materials together to get a "whiter" look. After realizing that sealant is a light-cured material (when it fell off of the front of my temporary tooth) he pushed it back on with his fingers and used the blue light to set it.
Logically, (yeah, right) the dentist decided to make my tooth shorter in order to avoid sensitivity problems. Since the temporary that had been placed after Christmas was a tiny bit larger, it had shifted one of my teeth a little bit. In order to allow my tooth to "correct itself", he drilled a gap in between my two front teeth with the hopes that it would grow together.
Then, the dentist told me I could have a couple of the ladies at the front desk help me pick out a shade to order in my porcelain veneer. When I noticed that the lightest swatch was still "yellow", I asked the receptionist if there were more colors. Her reply was, "Well, if you don't do anything to your teeth for a while, they will eventually yellow-up."
Really? Really, lady? You...at a dentist office...expect me to stop taking care of my teeth so that they will match a fake tooth?
As I got into the car, Mr. Ijustwanttobringasmiletoyourface had a bouquet full of roses sitting on the seat. One look, and I immediately broke down in tears. The laughing gas apparently didn't do the job, because I was hysterically crying for 30minutes straight.
Once we got to my parent's house, my mom took one look at my mouth and called the dentist. I guess it takes a Momma's voice sometimes...the dentist told me to come back up and they would see what they could do to match it.
Opaquer.
A girls best/worst friend.
On the bright-side, he brushed the front of my fake tooth with a white material and lengthened the tooth to make it a little closer to the length of my original. On the down-side, I have an insanely white tooth against my pre-existing white-ish tooth (for at least 2 weeks). It's awful.
I go back first thing next week when the man from the lab brings in a new swatch with whites on it.
After a LONG morning at the dentist, I went to the doctor. Then I got a WONDERFUL massage at a local spa. Finally, I met my amazing family to make a Friday night better.
I tell you what, Italian food makes any day a good day. Honestly, it does...
To wrap up the day, I went home with my big sister to craft and watch Nicholas Spark's movies. Unfortunately, we only made it through one movie and we were already boo-hooing like you wouldn't believe. We sat and talked for a while until I headed out for the evening.
Note to reader(s):
-Never carry metal (or sharp objects) while walking on the ice. BUT, if you do...
-Never knock out your front tooth. BUT, if you do...
-Never let a dentist tell you that your newly installed tooth will someday match your teeth if you neglect to take care of them. BUT, if you do...
-Never forget to tell the amazingly wonderful man in your life how much it means to you that they take care of you and bring you flowers when you've had a root canal from experiencing the above mentioned no-no's.
AND
-Enjoy some amazing Italian food with the people you love the most, confide in your big sister, and watch sappy love-movies until your eyes swell from crying so much.
The End.
Unfortunately, once I was in the chair they decided to do a root canal while they were at it. Gee Doc....thanks so much.
Bad deal.
First of all, I've never had a root canal in my life. Those things hurt! Bad! On top of the awful pain of having someone stick an orange-colored stick inside of what was left of my perfectly shaped tooth, you are dealing with a person that is obsessed with teeth. Call me crazy, but I take pride in the little white pearls that were so graciously given to me by the good Lord himself. I mean, I brush multiple times a day to ensure they are clean and shiny white. Seems sensible, right?
Apparently there are no people on the face of the planet that have white teeth besides me. At least that's what my dentist made it sound like. It was such an inconvenience to try to "match" my new tooth with my current tooth-color. They started mixing materials together to get a "whiter" look. After realizing that sealant is a light-cured material (when it fell off of the front of my temporary tooth) he pushed it back on with his fingers and used the blue light to set it.
Logically, (yeah, right) the dentist decided to make my tooth shorter in order to avoid sensitivity problems. Since the temporary that had been placed after Christmas was a tiny bit larger, it had shifted one of my teeth a little bit. In order to allow my tooth to "correct itself", he drilled a gap in between my two front teeth with the hopes that it would grow together.
Then, the dentist told me I could have a couple of the ladies at the front desk help me pick out a shade to order in my porcelain veneer. When I noticed that the lightest swatch was still "yellow", I asked the receptionist if there were more colors. Her reply was, "Well, if you don't do anything to your teeth for a while, they will eventually yellow-up."
Really? Really, lady? You...at a dentist office...expect me to stop taking care of my teeth so that they will match a fake tooth?
As I got into the car, Mr. Ijustwanttobringasmiletoyourface had a bouquet full of roses sitting on the seat. One look, and I immediately broke down in tears. The laughing gas apparently didn't do the job, because I was hysterically crying for 30minutes straight.
Once we got to my parent's house, my mom took one look at my mouth and called the dentist. I guess it takes a Momma's voice sometimes...the dentist told me to come back up and they would see what they could do to match it.
Opaquer.
A girls best/worst friend.
On the bright-side, he brushed the front of my fake tooth with a white material and lengthened the tooth to make it a little closer to the length of my original. On the down-side, I have an insanely white tooth against my pre-existing white-ish tooth (for at least 2 weeks). It's awful.
I go back first thing next week when the man from the lab brings in a new swatch with whites on it.
After a LONG morning at the dentist, I went to the doctor. Then I got a WONDERFUL massage at a local spa. Finally, I met my amazing family to make a Friday night better.
I tell you what, Italian food makes any day a good day. Honestly, it does...
To wrap up the day, I went home with my big sister to craft and watch Nicholas Spark's movies. Unfortunately, we only made it through one movie and we were already boo-hooing like you wouldn't believe. We sat and talked for a while until I headed out for the evening.
Note to reader(s):
-Never carry metal (or sharp objects) while walking on the ice. BUT, if you do...
-Never knock out your front tooth. BUT, if you do...
-Never let a dentist tell you that your newly installed tooth will someday match your teeth if you neglect to take care of them. BUT, if you do...
-Never forget to tell the amazingly wonderful man in your life how much it means to you that they take care of you and bring you flowers when you've had a root canal from experiencing the above mentioned no-no's.
AND
-Enjoy some amazing Italian food with the people you love the most, confide in your big sister, and watch sappy love-movies until your eyes swell from crying so much.
The End.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
"Sooper Bole"
Sunday morning we woke up to attend our local LifeChurch. Craig started a new series titled, "Once Upon a Marriage" and it is excellent.
After feeding our spirits for an hour or so, we decided we better feed our bodies as well. So, we met one of my best friends with her husband at a sandwich shop down the street. One heated argument too many, we left the restaurant with me not on speaking terms with Mr. Ican'tthinkofanametosayhere. Then, he started working on the house as soon as we got back.
The neighbor text me to ask about a basket she let me borrow to take some Scentsy to my co-workers. I went out to my car and realized I had left it up at work/school. She noticed me outside and invited me in to see the girls' latest toy.
There, in the middle of their doorway, sat a large air hockey table. Apparently they had gotten a killer deal on it and were keeping it around until the neighborhood garage sale day. Score. It was so much fun to play, and it reminded me of those long days at the roller skating rink in elementary school. The girls were playing until the big game came on that day. They had created a sign for one of the friends-that-was-a-boy that said, "Sooper Bole 2010"...I love kids.
Mr. Idon'tlikenottalkingtoyou asked me what I was doing as I stepped outside, and I went back into the house talking like normal. All of a sudden I realized a familiar look of frustration come across his face. Then, he went on to tell me that he had broke the neighbor's impact drill.
You see, just before Christmas his 3yr old drill burnt up while he was hanging some drywall. He borrowed his dad's for a while until he needed it for his own work. Then, he had to borrow the neighbor's impact drill in order to successfully hang wood, drywall, and wire on the brick fireplace facade prior to our stacked stone and mantel going up.
Bad day. The chuck busted on the neighbor's drill, and we were forced to visit our favorite Saturday place...on Sunday.
As soon as Steve saw us coming in (with our two puppies this time) he knew something was up. "It's Sunday. Y'all aren't supposed to be here." We told him about the drill, and we walked to the nearby aisle to pick out a replacement.
$59.99+tax= money we didn't want to spend...FLUSH*
We drove over to his parents' house to see everyone before heading over to my Momma and Daddy's for the Super Bowl and dinner.
Mexican food, half-funny commercials, and my family...it turned out to be a good day after all.
To end it all, I had my mom take a couple of pictures to remember our first...2nd Super Bowl together. The first of many years together.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
We're Regulars
Since our anniversary fell in the middle of the week and we both had to work, we didn't get a chance to celebrate together. Mr. Icanbeprettysweet surprised me by driving us downtown to eat at Cattleman's. I had never been to the historical stockyards in OKC, and he took me out for lunch/dinner that afternoon. It was SO good.
Now, I won't lie. It wasn't the BEST steak I've ever had. The Chamberlain's we went to in Dallas definitely gave them competition. However, it was excellent. I loved their homemade croutons and the house dressing. I'm not really big on salads, but I finished the whole thing...and my entire filet.
Since I hadn't had the chance to see that area, we decided to check out some of the adorable western shops in the area. I found some of the cutest cowgirl boots (too bad my teensy feet were swallowed by the smallest sizes they came in ). After looking at some of the boutiques closeby, we decided to venture to my parents' house.
We weren't there long since they hadn't had a chance to eat yet. Once we left, we headed out to get some things for the house.
After weeks of making Lowe's our weekend stomping grounds, we are officially regulars. That's right...they know us by name (well...at least by our faces). 
Mr. We'realmostfinishedwiththefireplace pulled into our reserved parking place and we walked in the same doors we always do. As soon as we stepped inside, Steve and Laura were welcoming us back and asking how the house was coming along. We picked up the essential supplies to stone the fireplace and headed to the checkout.
Mr. We'realmostfinishedwiththefireplace pulled into our reserved parking place and we walked in the same doors we always do. As soon as we stepped inside, Steve and Laura were welcoming us back and asking how the house was coming along. We picked up the essential supplies to stone the fireplace and headed to the checkout."Well Hello strangers."
Did I mention he takes after his parents? Yeah, they're regulars at Lowe's too. So much so, that we ran into them with a list a mile long of things they had been researching all afternoon for their new house. We talked for a while and finally headed out.
Starbuck's...ymmm.
Mr. Whitechocolatemocha pulled into the drive-thru to order his usual. When they told us they didn't have any peppermint brownies left, I decided a double-chocolate brownie would do. Strike-two. They were out of all the brownies. That's when Mr. I'mnotgoingtoletdownmygirl playfully told the cashier that they were letting us down tonight. When we pulled around, the barista reached out and handed the venti mocha and told us it was on them tonight. We were just kidding! However, they wouldn't take our money. So, we drove away enjoying our little cup of warm, heavenly goodness...for free.
Thank you Lowe's associates that have enough kindness in your hearts to remember us and ask us about our lives. You are why we don't shop at Home Depot.
And thank YOU, Starbuck's barista that always gets our order right and manages to put up with my sensitive taste-buds and give me the child's temperature when I order my hot chocolate. You make a $3 cup of coffee worth it.
There are still some good people out there, and I'm very blessed to have come across them.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Dear John,
I have a confession.
I have a slight obsession with Nicholas Sparks books.
With this being said, my sister and I planned for a girls' night out to see the premiere of Dear John in theaters. As soon as I finished up at my internship, I headed over to my Momma and Daddy's to see my niece. After a while, my sister was on her way home so I hopped in the car to meet her at her house. After an hour of indecisive clothes-changing, she was ready to go (Love you sis!) We stopped at the closest gas station before braving the traffic near downtown.
Plan A)
Drive to Warren.
Pick up tickets.
Watch Dear John and cry in the balcony while eating dinner.
SOLD OUT
Plan B)
Pick up tickets for a later showing.
Drive to eat dinner.
Kill time at a nearby mall.
Drive back to Warren.
Watch Dear John and cry our eyes out.
SOLD OUT
Plan C)
Drive to Harkin's downtown.
Pick up any available ticket for the earliest showing of our movie.
Stand in line.
Watch Dear John and cry until we can't open our eyes anymore.
SOLD OUT
Plan D)
Make reservations to The Melting Pot over the phone.
Drive downtown to Harkin's.
Pick up tickets for a later showing.
Eat dinner and kill a couple of hours.
Watch Dear John and cry audibly for the entire theater to hear and until we can't open our eyes.
NO RESERVATIONS..BUT...We got the TICKETS!
Plan E)
Pay for parking.
Walk indecisively across town until we find a suitable location for dinner.
Stop at a local Italian restaurant.
Eat so much we can't move anymore.
Realize we have two hours to kill after dinner.
Sit and listen to each other make imitating comments from one of our latest Pixar movies.
Walk to the car.
Drive to Harkin's.
Stop at a Starbuck's.
Make ourselves completely miserable from drinking coffee after having a huge meal.
Stand in line for 45minutes.
Take our seats in the largest theater...middle of the middle.
Wait patiently.
Watch Dear John and excessively cry using a half a roll of toilet paper from the ladies' restroom.
It was wonderful
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