I just found Rob and myself on the Smilebooth blog!

Wedding season 2012, a Smilebooth is so happening in my professional world.

Conversations with Dana:

“I just got an alert. They bumped my flight to tomorrow morning! But I’m supposed to be getting on a plane in a few hours!”

“Oh no! Well, of course you can stay with us tonight.”

“…”

“Has enough time passed that it is now appropriate for me to get really fucking excited?”

I’m back!

I’m back, I’ve turned twenty-nine, I’m exhausted, and I’ve come down with some sort of malady that is probably “I’m too old to party this hard”-itis.

There were amazing things that happened, and some bad things, too, that have left me very disappointed, I took a zillion photos including a whole bunch of new faces for my 1000 faces project, and I made new friends.

You’ll have to wait to hear all about it, though, because I’m going to go crawl back into bed and try to heal enough to stand upright without being dizzy. I leave you with the best piece of swag I’ve ever seen – this Freshbooks branded digital photo of me and Rob in a photobooth. Digital swag that I don’t have to drag home in a suitcase? Win.

Friends, I whipped up a quick survey about my blog and would love for you to take it. It’s multiple choice and you’ll be done in a minute.

Help a sister out?

Thank you kindly.

p.s. These are the flowers Rob bought for me for Valentines Day. Aren’t they pretty?! I love them more than roses. It’s a teeny dose of spring.

Wow! With the exception of Bari, you guys all picked the ad featuring “leaping Jessica” – including Jessica! I appreciated hearing your opinions and reasons, especially since I TOTALLY DISAGREED WITH YOU. I was gung ho about using the yellow holding hands photo. Your smart observations changed my mind. Thank you sincerely.

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Are you on Pinterest? It’s a lot of fun collecting inspiring images and having a place to keep them all. You can follow me here.

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Excellent zero PointsPlus recipe coming next week. The card reader for my camera went belly up and I can’t get the photos off! Bummer!

Happy weekend.

Stephanie Thompson gave me a gold star. It was certainly not for my killer fashion sense. Rob calls this coat my “serial bomber” coat, and says it makes me look crazy. He’s right, but I don’t care because it’s so warm, and also because my grandmother told me it was cute once. It is approximately nine sizes too big.

Anyway, thank you, Stephanie!

Penny: I’m a Sagittarius, which probably tells you way more than you need to know.

Sheldon: Yes, it tells us that you participate in the mass cultural delusion that the Sun’s apparent position relevant to arbitrarily defined constellations at the time of your birth somehow affects your personality.

It’s usually easy for me to ignore the horoscope thing, but with the new “earth is at a different access so everyone’s signs are suddenly different”, I’m hearing a lot about it and, frankly, it’s annoying the snot out of me. I separate people into two categories: those that understand how science works, and those who care about what their sign is.

If you fall into the latter category, I will always sort of be judging you.

Acquire less stuff and more stories.

Work more, get more money, and give more money away.

Travel more. Hibernate less. Spend lots of Sundays at brunch and late nights in bars.

Wear sparkly tops and inappropriate skirts. Do yoga.  Keep living awesomely.

Have adventures.

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I’m in an airport typing up my farewell blog post before I jet off for fun in the sun with family for a few days. Then it’s back to New York for one last 2010 photoshoot. I’m not established enough yet to turn down jobs, so I’ll take them when I can get them, even if it means cutting vacation a little shorter than usual. It’s good, though; I feel silly, but leaving my dogs wrenches my heart out every time, and I miss them already. I woke up this morning with one on each foot and a third blowing dog breath in my face and just about died from the love. Does this make me a crazy dog lady?

Don’t answer that.

Merry Christmas!

image from Jiggery Pokery

Early this week I had a migraine that had been raging for hours. I couldn’t eat, drink, or even move around too much, but I got to the point where I was really hungry. I said to Rob, “I’m hungry. I hurt. I don’t know what I want to eat, but I know I need to eat, and sooner rather than later. And I can’t think about it and I can’t decide what I want and you need to get me the food that I want and give it to me because I can’t because the entire world is smeared behind the pain that is my head right now.” My voice caught, then trembled, and I sniffed pathetically. Then I flung an afghan over my head and moaned to myself while sinking into the corner of the couch: a tented pity party.

He brought me exactly what I wanted, and he remembered a fork.