In celebration of Erin and Ted’s baby shower for their two little girls (!!!), some of us decided to come together to celebrate today, them and their babies on our blogs. Hooray!

Sooo… to start this day off right, we’re all supposed to video blog or write about our favorite thing that comes in pairs. And since my video blogging capabilities are currently nil, regular blogging it is.

Erin, I hope these posts start your day off with a smile and a reminder that there are SO many friends of yours who wish they could be in attendance today. And so many of us who cannot wait to hear about everything that happens at the shower. I am still SO excited for you and Ted, and your girls are so lucky!

My favorite thing that comes in pairs is something a lot of girls love. These pairs are sometimes hard to find in the right size and color. These pairs make me incredibly happy, no matter how insignificant they may be in the scheme of life.

Have you guessed it?

Shoes.

I freaking love shoes.

And that, byfar, is my favorite thing that comes in a pair. Though there are SO many other pairs I love.

Yes, they are simple. Yes, they are materialistic. Yes, they are fun.

What about you? What is your favorite thing that comes in pairs?

                          

I know, I know. It’s been a long few weeks, and I have been sparse around these parts.

I’m a busy girl, OK? Between work, planning a wedding, trying to exercise and get into shape to fit into my wedding dress THIS WEEKEND (because I’m picking it up from the bridal boutique, not because I’m getting married this weekend), and just trying to relax, it’s been, umm, crazy.

What exactly have I been doing?

Well, let me tell you. In detail. Because you want to know, right? (If not, skip the bullet points…)

In the past few weeks, I have…

• Told my mother about my blog. Everyone say hi!
• Finished designing, purchased, addressed and sent ALL my save the dates
• Been training TWO newbies at work (even though one left today…)
• Taken numerous assignments for the newspaper
• Tried to exercise once a day, thanks to my YMCA membership and my pup, who needs as much exercise as I can possibly give her since she has SO MUCH ENERGY.
• Solidified numerous loose-ends pertaining to my wedding
• Been reading. (Hooray for a new Sookie book at the beginning of May and for re-reading everything before S3 of True Blood.)
• Started and kept up the Slim Fast diet. You know, the whole 3 snacks, 2 shakes and 1 meal formula they advertise. And I actually really enjoy it because the Slim Fast shakes totally satisfy my sweet tooth!
• Slept and actually feel rested.

It’s been a crazy, but good few weeks in my life. And while things will continue to be intense for a while now, I have some really exciting things and events coming up that I cannot wait for. Like getting my wedding gown. And seeing my boy again for the first time since he left Nashville more than a month ago. And an engagement party in my boy’s home town. And more!

What have y’all been up to? What have I missed?

                          

These past two weeks have been absolutely nuts.

My city filled with flood waters, and everyone is still getting back on their feet. And we have a ways to come before things are back to normal.

My adopted state is facing disaster because of the oil spill. (And one of the eleven who died in the explosion? Was one of my sorority sister’s husbands. Sad face.)

And, last Thursday, my grandmother, Bugga, passed away.

She was really sick, and previously that week, she had slipped into a coma. We all knew this. And yet, knowing did not stop the tears when my mom called and said, “Bugga is gone. We were out of the room and when we came back, she was gone.”

I broke down.

I was at work when I received the call, and luckily, my boss was wonderful when I told him the news, sending me home and telling me to take as much time as I needed.

After frantically finding airplane tickets and packing our bags, the boy and I landed in Pittsburgh that night.

The weekend was a blur: the visitation was Friday afternoon (into the evening), the funeral was Saturday morning and we hosted everyone at Bugga’s house after the funeral for food and company.

During these events, I met friends of my grandmother’s. I met distant family members for the first time, including my grandfather’s cousin. I spent time with friends of the family who I had heard about throughout the years, but never had the chance to meet.

One of Bugga’s friends, Dorothy, was telling me goodbye when she saw my smile for the first time.

“Oh my goodness! You have her smile. Exactly her smile!”

My smile widened.

“All of you girls have a part of her in you. You know that, right?”

I nodded, said, “Thank you,” and then gave her a hug.

Dorothy’s words ring true.

My Bugga may be gone from Earth, but she lives on in her daughters and granddaughters: through our smiles, through our eyes, through our sense of humor or the way we view the world. She lives in us because, not only do we look like her (or parts of her, in my case), but we all carry her memory and the invaluable experiences we shared with her.

So whenever I feel sad about not being able to give my Bugga a call, I remember this. And, from this day forward, I will always light up whenever I see my reflection because I know my smile is the same as hers.

                          

When I picked up my first camera in the fall of 2004, I just knew that was what I was supposed to be doing.

Ever since then, I’ve been chasing that dream of being a full-time, professional photographer.

I started work at the student newspaper as a staff photographer, and I loved it. I was challenged on most assignments, and I was getting a different perspective than the fine art photography I had come to adore.

At times, it’s seemed out of reach. Like my junior year when two pompous grad students told me I didn’t have the chops to be a photographer. I struggled and struggled because of their harsh critique, convincing myself to take a step away from people — my passion — and focusing more on natural beauty. I struggled with inspiration for the rest of the semester, and my final project was just OK because my heart wasn’t in it.

The following summer, I spent time in Italy. And I fell in love with photography all over again. I hesitantly embarked on a portrait project, and it spread like wildfire. Inspiration caught, and I was an artist again. I was connecting with people through my lens again. And, most importantly, I wasn’t dreading picking up my old Yashica twin lens anymore.

{One of the pieces from my “On the Radio” project that was completed in Italy.}

When I got back to the States, I continued work at the paper. I started freelancing for anyone and everyone I could, including a few local magazines. I tried to take another fine art photo lab, but my supplies didn’t arrive in time, and I had to drop the class.

I continued plugging away with my photo work up until I graduated in 2008. And then, I went to work for a paper, something I thought was my dream.

I left a year and a half later, bitterly disappointed.

I had some amazing experiences there and made some beautiful images, but more often than not, my creativity and spirits were squashed because of a certain someone not pulling his weight and someone who didn’t believe in “creative photos.” I didn’t have time to pursue any personal projects because I felt I was always running around.

I came to the realization this past fall that I wasn’t living my life: I was merely biding my time. And when circumstances took a turn for the worse, I put my foot down, packed up all my stuff and moved to a new town without a job in sight.

And that simple act made all the difference.

In January, I started working a job that has NOTHING to do with photography. It’s refreshing, and the work environment is top-notch.

I oftentimes find myself daydreaming about projects I want to embark on whenever I have a spare moment. Like documenting a couple battling infertility. Or a teenage girl overcoming an eating disorder. Or a farmer working on his crops and documenting the process he takes from the seeds to the harvesting. I think these would all be fascinating in their own regard, and I really look forward to having the time to start exploring these topics with my camera in hand.

I miss what I did at the newspaper. I miss running out in the newsroom after hearing the all-call sound over the scanner. I miss spending a day or two documenting a hard-hitting story with a reporter. I even miss people approaching me in the grocery store and saying they saw me on assignment earlier.

However, there are some things I don’t miss. And the things I do? I am beginning to build for myself here without the negatives.

This past weekend, I took my first assignment for a local newspaper and then I helped another photographer shoot a wedding.

I fell in love with photography all over again. I fell in love with the impact you make on someone’s life after having spent your day documenting hers — her wedding day. I fell in love with chatting about a person’s craft and snapping photos as they explain. And I fell in love with holding a camera in my hands again for an entire day without a break.

I dream of the day where I can spend all my time and energy on photography again, but this time, be my own boss, be in control of my own destiny and be able to focus on the projects I find important to share.

This is my passion: documenting and sharing stories.

And, while it’s taken me a while to get to this point, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I know the direction I’m headed is the right one for me. And I cannot wait to see where it leads me.

                          

I knew it was bound to happen someday, but I didn’t expect it this weekend.

The boy, Lucy and I headed to a local park yesterday morning to get in some exercise. We’ve always adored said park because it isn’t ever crowded and there is a long walking trail that snakes through the grassy area.

When we arrived around 11 a.m., there was a notable change in the park. There were dozens of people, and each one had at least one small child in tow. Young couples were walking their dogs and pushing strollers at the same time. And children — dozens of children — were swinging, sliding, playing hide and seek on the playground equipment next to the walking path. Some kids and their parents were more adventurous and were exploring the creek bed that runs through the park, and we had a good laugh because when I was a kid, there was a creek near my house, and I was there ALL THE TIME. Catching frogs and minnows and other living creatures that were cool back then.

We made our way through the busiest part of the park easily, and we all took a deep breath when we reached the wide open space. Because we’d never seen the park that busy before. And because Lucy was incredibly wary of the hoard of children. (We think the sights and sounds were too much for her. But every time she has spent one-on-one time with a young child, she has been a calm, not-neurotic champion.)

As we walked, we talked about this and that. What our Fridays were like, what we wanted to do for lunch, how spring cleaning was going, and finally, children. Not about having kids, but kids in general — what we liked to do as kids and who we know is starting a family soon.

For whatever reason, seeing all those little kids together and walking with my pup and fiancé made my biological clock audible. And, before this point, I’d never heard it.

Sure, I’ve always known I wanted to have children when I “grew up,” but after spending four summers as a camp counselor, I was sure of two things. First off, I wanted to be prepared — married and settled down and ready to take on the responsibility. And secondly? I didn’t want to have a litter. (Because keeping track of EIGHT children the same age from your cabin is fun for a week or two, but I cannot imagine that in real life. So whoever does that drew a tough hand, but is a saint in my eyes. Because that is INTENSE.)

Yeah.

So, for the first time ever, I could hear my biological clock ticking. And, while it excites me for the far-off future, it’s a little overwhelming right now because, honestly, I never thought this day would come. And because we are not ready to be responsible for anyone more than ourselves and Lucy.

And, after having spoken to some friends about this last night, I’ve been told it will only get worse as time passes.

Which is fantastic. And something I totally don’t need to add to my crazy just yet — bride brain is more than enough, thankyouverymuch.

…

What about you, friends? Has your biological clock made itself obvious in your life? And, if so, does it get better or worse?

And, for any guys reading, do you think we’re all a little crazy now?

                          

Yesterday? Was a kick-in-the-face, feel-sorry-for-yourself, sit-on-the-couch-and-boo-hoo-for-a-few-hours kind of day.

Thanks, wedding planning. I love you and the fact that you’re getting me to where I need to be, but you stress me out sometimes.

(And judging by my tweets? It basically sounded like the end of the world. Which WASN’T THAT FAR OFF at the time, but having calmed down from the predicament, I realize I was maybe just a little dramatic. So y’all? I’m sorry for that. I didn’t mean to worry or scare y’all.)

Today? Was a lot better. Partly because it is a new day, partly because I got a lot of work done, partly because we bought groceries for the FIRST TIME in two weeks, partly because my mother won me a faux-diamond bracelet to wear at my wedding and unfortunately, not the bachelorette party bag… which might have made me laugh/cry, and partly — OK, mostly — because one of my friends is my new co-worker! And neither of us has any idea this was happening until around lunch today!

So hooray for today being so much better than yesterday.

I like how life works out like that.

What’s something positive that has happened to you today?

                          

It feels weird to say and even stranger to write. (Also? I will be writing the wrong year on checks for the next two months…)

2009 was a pretty good year, on my end.

I met 25 friends in Vegas.
My boy popped the question, and I said yes.
I quit my job and then moved to a new city shortly after.

And so, so much more.

This past year was a year of change for me, and I know 2010 will hold even more surprises. Finally, I am moving in a direction I want to go, and I look forward to everything this new year has to offer.

It has already been good and relaxing. I rang in the new year with my boy and his family at their Louisiana home, watched a LOT of football (and no, I don’t want to talk about LSU’s game. It was THAT awful), spent quality time with my future in-laws and my family. It has been amazing, minus the horrific football game on New Year’s Day.

I am now back in Nashville for the next few weeks, at least, and am snuggling with the Lucy pup on the couch. I have a lot of things to check off my to-do list, but I couldn’t be happier.

How has your new year been so far?

                          

I received an e-mail last night from a personal favorite blogger that simultaneously touched and broke my heart. I’m sharing it here, and I know many others sharing it on their blogs.

If you feel inclined, say a prayer and/or send a positive thought to Brandy and her “hot awesome dude.” Repost this on your blog. Send them an encouraging e-mail. And keep the good thinking coming throughout this time.

Take a moment and let Brandy’s words sink in…

***

My name is brandy. And I have a blog.

And a plea.

I use my blog to showcase the crazy I meet everyday, share the stories of the kids I teach and document my love for tequila, dairy products and the abdominal muscles of Ryan Reynolds. Rarely do I talk about personal issues on my blog- as personal as the dude that I adore (who I actually met through my blog- single ladies, let that be a very good reason to blog, the possibility of meeting someone as wonderful as my man), but I need your help. And it involves my dude.

He’s a guy who made math comics for my class, so they would love learning about addition. He’s the kinda guy who sends my friends gift cards when they are having hard times, who remembers every story I ever told him, who was the first person I celebrated with when I got a teaching job. He’s the guy who sent flowers to me at school- dozens of my favourite pink roses just because he loves me. He’s a guy who has spent a year patiently explaining (and re-explaining) everything there is to know about football during the important games when silence is preferred. He’s made me word puzzles and comics and stayed up late playing Scrabble with me (even though I beat him almost every time). He’s listened to me cry about school and family and jobs. He is everything I never knew I needed and everything I always knew I wanted.

The holidays have hit us hard. He’s recently been told he may have something called multiple myeloma- an incurable cancer, that gives a person an average of five years of continued life. Though this news has came as a shock, he continues to be exactly who has always been- spending his time worrying about me, rather than worrying about himself. He’s the most selfless individual I know- (he stayed late on Christmas Eve to work, so his co-workers could leave early) and a post like this would never be something that he would promote or encourage but when I’m overwhelmed and feeling helpless, the blogging community has always given me tremendous support and comfort, two things I desperately need at this time.

As I write this, the future is uncertain and we aren’t sure what’s happening. He’ll need to see an oncologist soon, to verify what’s going on in his body. My hope is that everyone who reads this think positive thoughts and if you are a person who prays, could you add him to your list? (You can refer to him as ‘brandy’s hot awesome dude’). If you don’t pray, please keep him in your heart.This cancer is only a possibility and I believe that the prayers and positive thoughts of people can make sure it never becomes a reality.

I want to give a big thank you to the blog owner who scraped their original blog plans and graciously put this up. My goal is to get as many people as possible to see and read this post. If you are reading this and want to help, copy and paste my plea into your blog or send a link through twitter, so more people can keep him in their thoughts. I would be so very grateful (even more grateful than I am to my friend who first showed me the picture of Ryan Reynolds on the cover of Entertainment Weekly. If you haven’t seen it, Google it. You. Are. Welcome).

I realize this all sounds dramatic, a Lifetime movie in the making- but this is life. Right now. And I’m throwing away any hint of ego and am humbly asking for you to pray or think kind thoughts. If you are able to pass this on, thank you and if you know anything regarding MM- please email me (my email is on my blog). This isn’t a call for sympathy or a plea for pity. It’s just one girl hoping you can think positive thoughts for the person she adores. If my current heartache provides you with anything, let it be with the reminder that life is short, love is unbending and no one knows what could happen next. Maybe it is silly, but I really do believe that positive thoughts can make a huge difference. Thank you for reading this and if you haven’t already? Please tell someone you love them today.

I did.

                          

A year and eight months ago, I moved to small town Mississippi with no idea of what I was getting myself into. I knew I was going to be a photojournalist. I knew I was going to have a crazy schedule. I knew I was going to work holidays.

But I didn’t know a lot of things.

I didn’t know what it felt like to work a 16-hour day. (And then to be so proud of everything I accomplished in that day that the hours and exhaustion didn’t matter.)

I didn’t know what it was like to cover a fire, a wreck, a funeral, a murder, etc. (I wish I didn’t know what those were like, especially the last two.)

I didn’t know how much my co-workers would affect me. I didn’t know how much my photography subjects would also affect me. And I didn’t know how people would come to know me as the “photo girl” and would constantly speak to me, whether I was on assignment or simply buying groceries on my time off.

I didn’t know how sad/excited I would be to leave for other opportunities.

…

Yesterday was my last day at work, and it was weird. Weird because everything I did was the last time. Weird because I only received two hugs. Weird because my boss ran out to do something and didn’t tell me goodbye. Weird because I’m never going back.

Don’t get me wrong: I am over the MOON about starting anew in Nashville in TWO DAYS (!!!!!), but for now, reminiscing about my overall work experience and my final day is strange.

I have completed my first “big girl” job. The entire experience, the good and the bad, is behind me. I’m moving to a bigger city. I’m going to be able to spend time with my love and call my own shots now. But you better believe I’m taking the lessons learned here with me.

And for now, that is more than enough.