Photographer Magic

My good friend Julia has a part-time business of photographing families, pregnant ladies, and weddings when she's not a full-time photo editor at Backpacker Magazine or mama. I have been watching her take photos of others for years, and I have always been amazed at how beautiful she makes everyone look. What I find amazing about her work is that everyone in her images just looks so lovely--and I don't mean, "Man, those are some attractive people!" (although they are), but it seems that she's able to get their spirits to shine through in the photos and you can see who they truly are. And, of course, since my friend Julia is an amazing person she just attracts more awesome people.

I have been wanting her to photograph us for years, and a couple of weeks ago she came to NYC and my wish came true. Of course, I was nervous. Would I look old, fat, tired, icky? I must admit, my husband--as much as I love him more than anything--takes the absolute WORST photos of me. Don't know what it is, but each time he captures me in a photo I look g-r-o-s-s. I faced Julia's photo shoot with some trepidation. Then I tried the whole get-over-yourself approach and thought that my kids would look adorable, so who cares about me.

Well, I must say, she's got some photographer magic.

I don't even remember the last time I liked photos of myself, and I love these. LOVE. I look at the family in the photos and am like, "Who is that wonderful family? Oh my god, that's us!"

Thanks, Hools. You truly have an amazing talent. Love you.
For her edited view of our session, please go to her blog here.

And, for those of you in NYC, hopefully she'll come back annually and get a base of folks here to shoot. Interested? Lemme know and I'll make a list of us.

(Btw, my kids just plain don't smile for pictures--such surly New Yorkers!)

Meat in your Mouth

One of the best things about having Alexandra was befriending Amy & James. I'm not even sure of the chronology of our meeting, but Amy and I did pre-natal yoga together, then we met them again at a breastfeeding class at RealBirth, and then we ran into them at a baby store in the 'hood, and then at the now extinct Virgin Megastore at Union Squre...Soon it became obvious we should be friends.

Our first year as parents we spent a lot of time at their apt, Amy & I nursing, eventually the kids kinda playing, and James cooking. James' cooking is like a gift from God--it's better than any restaurant I have ever eaten in and his specialty is meat. Everything he makes is good, but whenever James roasts or grills a piece of meat it is unbelievable.

This weekend was no exception. We took the train up to Rhinebeck and to hang out and catch up. Somehow, with the advent of our kids turning 2, we haven't found much time this summer to get together.

Dinner last night...amazing. James made lamb on the grill with some sort of mint pesto rubbed into it, along with grilled figs, squash, corn...It was all delicious, but the lamb...Heaven. For someone who hasn't liked meat this pregnancy, I certainly put away a lot of lamb last night.

This post is a shout out to James-the-meat-roaster. We joked that if I were to write a eulogy for him, I'd quote the BBQ caterer's truck from my friends Brenda and Evan's rehearsal dinner in Baltimore (photo above): "James Luria--his meat tastes good in your mouth."

Old Friends

Me in 9th grade. Nice bangs. Probably look better sans face.


Apology accepted! (21 years later!)


This week a VERY old friend friend-ed me on Facebook. We were only friends from the end of 4th grade until maybe 6th grade (?) and then we lost touch, but I have often thought of her and tried to find her before on the information superhighway. I have been surprised and touched at how quickly we have been able to reconnect, particularly over baby-making and baby-losing. It's been somewhat amazing. I can't imagine we talked over many deep subjects from the ages of 9 to 11, but there was obviously something we shared back then that allowed us to reconnect so intimately and immediately.

Old friends are very precious to me. In May, I left my baby girl for the first time since her birth and went to Colorado to hang with my oldest girlfriends, Robyn and Kim. I have known both of them since middle school. Robyn I clearly remember meeting in homeroom in 7th grade b/c she had a Billy Idol folder that I thought was so cool. It was a folder that was made to look like an album cover with a bit of faux record sticking out of the top. Since my mom was hyper-religious and didn't let me listen to rock-n-roll, that folder signified a lot to me and Robyn and I became fast friends.

But friendships are complicated. All of my girlfriends whom I have known for extended periods of time eventually end up on some sort of pause mode. Or worse, an all out conflict. Some fights I don't remember, some I do, but eventually--if the friendship was solid--we come back to each other in the end. And, strangely, I think those altercations make our friendships stronger.

One night as we ate yummy steaks off Robyn's grill, we dug out the old Park View High School yearbooks. And here's what we found! Guess Robyn and I did have some falling outs over the years. Neither of us remember what they were about, and I'm glad our friendship survived them, and, at least, "bitch" wasn't written next to my picture like some other folks!

Here's to good girlfriends. I truly believe they make us who we are.

a safe-haven of friends

For those who know me, you know that i come from a familial stronghold of religous ferver. When growing up, I had to answer the phone, "Praise the Lord, Lori speaking." I went to many Aglow meetings with my mom in which the entire room of women would break into speaking in tongues. I had to read the Bible before school and at dinner each night, attend a multitude of Bible schools and classes, and all this was on top of every Catholic girl's upbringing of CCD and Religious Education.

I think I clocked enough religion in my first 18 years to last a lifetime. No exaggeration.

With this in mind, my wildly liberal ideologies do not sit well with my family. My mom calls me about once a year, honestly crying b/c she has had some dream that I am burning in hell. Many a phone conversation disintegrates into her asking about my salvation. On my latest visits home, she gave me the garage door code so that after they are raptured, I can get down to NC and salvage their valuables to barter with Satan during the seven years of trial and tribulation. Again, I am not exaggerating.

During such political times, it is difficult to talk to my mom. I love her, I really do, but politics is the white elephant looming in our conversations now. I can't even ask her about Palin, the election, etc, b/c we differ so greatly that I get angry and she gets frustrated. We have an unspoken agreement that we just don't talk about these things. But, being the child and her being the mom, I always start to feel bad about this, even though there really is no compromise available here.

Which is why I love my friends. I know surrounding yourself by like-minded people doesn't challenge you in some ways, but it is incredibly reassuring in others. And, I take great solace in knowing that if by some wild stretch of the imagination my mom is right, that I'll be facing the apocalypse and/or going to hell with my favorite people.

Some political fun from some great folks.

GREAT POLITICAL BLOG by an old coworker...

funny video post snagged from my super-smart hairdresser:

tree goddess

my green-thumbed friend, erin, was featured on this girl's blog (?) for being a superwoman.

the blog's name is skirt. i love that. of all the deragatory names a woman can be called, i think "a skirt" is the best one. maybe b/c i have always liked skirts, or because my legs are my only body part i haven't wanted to subject to unnatural procedures, but i think if someone called me a "skirt" i'd feel kinda sexy.

and i call myself a feminist. sheesh.

like when my friend andrea and i went to see naomi wolf sophomore year in college, and naomi asked the women in the audience to tell everyone what they wanted to be before male white corporate oppression squashed their dreams. andrea begged me to tell the overpacked memorial hall that i had wanted, desperately, to be a maid. i'm not sure if a black and white outfit was part of my child fantasy for my future, but right about now i'm making the connection between my maid aspirations and liking being called a skirt.

but i digress.

check out my dear friend erin's five minutes of internet fame here!

girlfriends

i started the daunting task of packing last night. we are moving downstairs (more on that in another post), and we have so much stuff crammed into our little apartment that even though we won't move for another 6 weeks, it is simply necessary that we start purging and organizing now.

i began by packing up all my photo albums. they have lived in the uppermost right corner cubby of our floor-to-ceiling bookshelf for 6 1/2 years. i have scaled our library ladder many times to get to these photo albums, but last night i took them all down and packed them away in a rubbermaid plastic tub (we'll have more storage in the new apt, so lots will get tucked away).

but, of course, i had to look through each of them before putting them to rest. i found photos of car trips to VA when i was 17, wearing my cut-off jean shorts and tights that i thought were so cool. prom photos, graduations, parties throughout the years of college and life immediately thereafter--the sin party and black sunday brunch from my life in durham certainly created some hilarious photo ops. my move to nyc, my life pre-Adam, my life pre-baby...all tucked neatly away in cheap and expensive albums, documenting my life so far.

as i poked adam relentlessly telling him stories he'd heard before of this or that photo, i was amazed at the consistency of the girlfriends in my life. i have had a solid foundation of girlfriends from age 11 until present. two certain cliques: my first high school group from park view and my UNC/post-college group. all six of these women are still a part of my life. of course, new people have come and gone, but they have remained constant.

i know that these women are my family in many more ways than my family is, but seeing them stick with me through fat and skinny, blond hair and ear-muff cut, boyfriend after boyfriend, happy and depressed--all in images--make me love them even more.

i am a lucky girl.

facebook

recently, an old high school friend found me on facebook.

i then poked around her friends and re-befriended all the high school people i found there. all week we have been chatting back and forth, talking about babies, cheerleading, and peeping into each others' photo albums. i love it.

i really enjoy finding old connections and reconnecting, but i have found that others do not enjoy this. maybe they find it suspicious that i am curious about their lives now, maybe it is awkward b/c we were momentarily french kissing partners or were once friends until i pulled the bitchy high school girl role of suddenly not being friends with them (i still have guilt over this! for real!), but i see no harm in touching base. obviously, these people once meant something to me, or else i wouldn't care.

this real life facebook video from youtube depicts how totally bizarre it is to reconnect with someone--IF that were real life. but that's exactly the point: i would NEVER ring a handfull of my facebook "friends'" doorbells and announce that i was going to poke, message, gift, or post unflattering photos of them. i guess i'm arguing that facebook isn't real life. agree/disagree?

regardless, this youtube video is a riot. (not irregardless, nicki! don't worry, i wont' disqualify myself from your friend list by using that faux word!)