Ms. Baker Goes to Washington

…during a conversation about how much money I need for the first day of my trip…

“You’ll need money for the cab. Do you have conference stuff planned that night?”
“So you’re on your own for dinner and entertainment. How close is your hotel to the mall?”
“I don’t know. There’s a H&M nearby.”
“No. Not a shopping mall. The Washington Mall.”
“Oh. (pause) I didn’t look that up.”

I’m Bangin’

Last week, my best friend and maid of honor, Korbie, worked her last day at her shoe store. Korbie and I became good friends when I managed a retail store directly across from hers at the mall. We spent many hours talking and laughing it up with one of the kiosk guys. If you’ve ever been to a large, tourist-attracting mall, you know that kiosk people are their own breed. They are kind of a cross between carnival freaks and homeless beggars. Even though I didn’t keep in contact with the pothead kiosk guy with the ZZ Top beard, Korbie and I remained close. When I moved out of the home that I shared with my ex-husband, I moved into Korbie’s apartment complex. It was comforting to know that a friendly shoulder was nearby.

In addition to being an important confidant, she has been my fashion advisor. I have never considered myself a couture queen, but thanks to Korbie and her shoe store, I’ve held my own. For the last two years, I’ve received numerous compliments on my foot fashion. Last Thursday was my final day to stock up, and I came home with eight pairs of shoes.

When I got home with my bundle, I asked Chris if minded sharing a house with 50+ pairs of shoes, and he said, “No. I like the fact that my girlfriend has nice shoes.” He enjoys the idea that his lady has style. But that got me thinking about how I got to this point. It was definitely something I grew into. I was the loser kid that tight rolled my pants for five years too long. Then there was always this picture from the first grade. It’s the one my sister would keep in her wallet just so she could pull it out and embarrass me at just the right time.

first grade

Daily Digestion 2.6.7

Veggies and Hummus and Prunes.

She’s back.

Learning Not to Suck (as much)

Categories: Photography | 1 Comment

The indomitable gave me Photoshop for Christmas. I squealed with delight when I unwrapped it. I wanted Photoshop so bad. Now that I’ve had it for over a month, I thought it was about time I used it. My first victim project was Chris’s brother, Jonathan, who I photographed for some senior pictures. Here’s the aftermath.

The original picture that was taken by an abandoned building in downtown Nashville.

Jonathan 114 yes

This is the image after I played with it in Photoshop. I have no idea what I’m doing so it’s just a matter of trial and error. Regardless, Photoshop flexed its ass-kicking muscles.

adjusted 114

Now I just need to figure out what all those buttons on the D70s do.

The Taming of The Hef

Categories: Relations | No Comments

I wish I had the wits to document my and the indomitable’s relationship from the beginning. At the time, I didn’t think he would have a major role in my life. We decided early that it was just for fun, no strings attached. I liked him, but I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship. Plus the indomitable was a messy, chain-smoking, opinionated, slightly barbaric dude. (I mean dude by the crude cool guy definition.) On our first date, he was involved in two fights, and I almost had to climb a tall chain length fence in a really short skirt to avoid further altercation. Since those first days in April, Chris has stopped smoking, lost 60lbs, cut off his tangled mane, and, as his mom has stated, “Sanded off his rough edges.” I can’t take full credit for the metamorphosis. The indomitable is a stubborn guy. He doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do.

This morning I was greeted by a sweet surprise. It’s moments like these that reassure me that I’m not another evil woman forcing her man to change. Still, I wish I could have gotten it down on film.