As is my annual tradition, I took a self portrait in a mirror to commemorate my birthday. I’ve been waiting a very long time to take one that looks like this.
…for my fixed up apartment. We finally made it a priority and it’s so nice!
…WhatsApp connecting me with friends around the world.
…that Cousin Robin banned chitlins from Thanksgiving, because I canNOT deal.
…that it appears, after a long chain of heartbreak and grief, that I’m going to have a healthy baby.
…that I married someone smart and kind. The more time I spend on pregnancy message boards, the more I realise a lot of women are living with jerks.
…for deciding to go back to therapy this year.
…that I have the best job in the world, with the best community surrounding it.
…I’m no longer tolerating toxic behaviour from anyone. To the people who say, “You can’t just cut people out of your life!” I say “Snip snip!”
…for shea butter.
…for that D.
My friend Keely and I share a birthday, and I adore her. On Monday, we were browsing a bookstore when she spotted a scarf abandoned on a display, and, a bit later, a lady without one.
“Did you lose your scarf?” she asked the lady. “I think think it’s just over there.”
The lady rushed over, then came back to where we were checking out at the register and said, “Oh my goodness. You have no idea how grateful I am! Thank you!” She left, tucking it around her neck.
I asked, “Did you see her lose the scarf? I don’t understand how you knew it was hers.” (The bookstore was a bit crowded.)
Keely said, “No, I just sensed she was missing it.” She shrugged and me and the cashier kind of just marveled at her.
Isn’t that extraordinary? I love that Keely is my friend.
Johanna Siring is a photographer. She took portraits of strangers before and after kissing them. Via Creative Mornings.
These flatware sets look incredibly expensive, but they aren’t. Do I need new forks and knives? Yes…?
The plethora of business resources for women that leave out the voices of PoC and queer-identifying people was starting to piss me off, so I launched a digital platform for creative business owners called the Pineapple North Project.
I’m now accepting articles from smart people.
I am afraid I’m going to fall on my face and let a lot of people down.
The voices of former slaves, recorded in the 30’s, and digitized in the late 90’s. How am I just now hearing about this? It made me weep.
Flights to Europe have never been more affordable, especially from the east coast. Use both Google Flights and Momondo, and keep your dates flexible. This is round trip to Brussels over my birthday in March for $452. That’s not even the best deal.
CC Chapman has some words of wisdom about not creating content for SEO and algorithms. I don’t do it here in this space (or on my new personal Instagram account where I’m posting all of the random stuff I snap on my phone) but when it comes to my wedding photography business, I’m constantly worried about this.
I feel inspired to relax.
I was in the drug store, where men’s razors worked out to $2.25 each for a pack of twelve. The pastel pink razors that go with my razor handle would have worked out to a similar price, I think, if I could find a twelve pack, but I couldn’t, so I was stuck buying a smaller, more expensive pack of lady razors. This irked me. I bought the guys razors; they work fine.
Down with pink tax.
I’ve lived in New York City way too long. I realized this ’cause I was on the subway the other day and I heard a meow meowwww, and I’m like, ‘Oh great, here comes some frickin’ guy pretending he’s a cat.’ And I turned around, and it was a cat. In a bag. That’s what New York City’s done to me. I’m like, ‘Cat noise? Can’t be the animal that makes that noise. It’s gotta be some weird cat guy.’ Like I was gonna turn around and there was going to be some guy with, like, cat ears and a unitard and felt whiskers.
–Dan St. Germain
So I’m sitting in the hot tub on vacation, and these two older guys are talking about stocks. I listen, and figure out that they’re talking about what stocks are GOING to do, with a bit of authority. They’re keeping their voices low, but I’m right there, so it appears that I don’t register to them as someone who causes any concern. They’re talking about a stock I already own a few shares of. I sink into the bubbles and listen while pretending to count the stars, flirt with my husband, and ignore them.
I hop out of the hot tub, dry off, and use the hotel wi-fi to buy a few extra shares.
Within 24 hours, a good chunk of my vacation had paid for itself.
“What are your rates?”
Someone asked me what my headshot rates were in 2009, and I had to scramble to come up with a number since no one had ever paid me to shoot before. I came up with sixty dollars, and after the shoot, I was paid in three crisp $20 bills, which had me euphoric. (It’s a little more expensive to get a headshot from me now.) A year later, someone paid me $200 for an engagement shoot. These were the first wobbly little blocks of the foundation of my current career, and I thought I ought to write them down before I forgot them.