The double standard

The other day, I was perusing a Victoria's Secret catalog that had come in the mail. The Husband innocently strolled up behind me and caught a glance of the half-nekkid beauties in their skivvies. His eyebrows naturally went up in interest, and I immediately slammed the magazine shut and chastised him for being a man.

It was all in good fun, you see, and he smiled, laughed, and pointed out the fact that I employ a double standard.

Exsqueeze me?

He's right, you see. For the last post recorded on this blog featured a half-nekkid photo of a very attractive, but underage nonetheless, 17-year-old boy. The words written by me were in praise of the boy's glorious nekkidness, and I mooned and swooned verbally for several paragraphs.

Now.

Imagine, if you will, that the tables were turned. If the Husband had a blog (bwaahhh! Sorry, the very idea of that makes me laugh) and he wrote a post discussing several hot, young, underage girls. And let's just say he even put up a picture of one of them in a skimpy bikini. What would be the consequences for him then?

Well, we all know what the consequences would be.

I'd be LIVID. He'd be in so much trouble that I'd be getting flowers and diamonds every week for the next five years. It would be completely unacceptable for a grown man to write about a 17-year-old girl in that way. Is it any less so for a grown woman?

The funny thing is - he has no problem with my mooning over the hot young thang. He encourages it! He figures (rightly) that me getting excited about physicality will ultimately benefit him in some way. And the Twilight books? The female equivalent of literary porn. Totally made me want my husband when I read them, ifyouknowwhatimean. But would I allow him to peruse literature that provides the same reaction for him?

Not in a million years.

All this prompted a very interesting discussion and I feel compelled to put this question to you, dear readers. Why the double standard? Why do men not mind when we read things, watch movies, or fawn over half-nekkid young men? Why are we unable to reciprocate the same privileges to our husbands? Are we wrong? Should they be more outraged? Should we be less insecure?

Discuss.

Switching teams briefly because I must

While I take great delight in imagining my brother Dan rolling his eyes over this post, I cringe slightly in dedicating yet another post to what I feel is a slightly embarrassing fatal flaw on my part:

My love for the Twilight books.

Most of you know that already, but there is still a part of my grown up psyche that feels it beneath me to admit that. I wanted to hate them. I wanted to not be able to get partway through the first one before tearing apart and mocking the so-called bestseller.

But I couldn't.

The Edward that was created in my mind became the perfect storm of men. Part Heathcliff, part Darcy, part billionaire, and all solid, chiseled abs. Delish.

(Sadly, the movie Edward doesn't remotely come close.)

But since I just saw the movie this morning (no, not at midnight. I AM a respectable thirty-something cougar, you know), I feel compelled to share my thoughts with you here. (Bye Dan. Lost you at the word Twilight, didn't I?)

Here goes:

1. Their version of Edward makes my skin crawl. He needs to have those eyebrows waxed. He's more pasty white than most albinos. He's way, way too skinny. It's all I can do to not want to feed him a sandwich and make him take a shower. Why couldn't they tone him up like they did Jacob? He's supposed to be all muscles and money. Plus? Any man that wears more lipstick than me is not a man I want to fantasize about kissing. Yuck.


2. The movie Bella is so twitchy, it's distracting. I honestly can't tell if she's having a seizure or if she's got Tourette's. It's seriously all I can think about when I watch her.


3. Aren't the vampires supposed to be attractive? Isn't that part of their charm to lure in the unsuspecting prey? I think they forgot that when casting all these actors and applying enough cake-white face paint to rival the circus clowns. Every single one of them (with Alice and Emmett being the exceptions) look hideous to me. Honestly, did they even read these books before casting parts? Or are the people possibly attractive, but we can't see that because they're covered in so much flour make-up?


4. Um, that Charlie IS hot stuff. Though I'd definitely make him shave the 'stache before we got to know one another, ifyouknowwhatimean.


5. And last, but not least, I am declaring myself Team Jacob for the movie version of Twilight.
   

*Head hanging in shame*

I'm very sad to say that. I was so devoted to Edward throughout the books. I swore that if she put Bella and Jacob together, I would burn all my copies and never speak of them again. But Jacob is DARLING in this movie. He's warm, inviting, gentle, and sweet. Plus, hello? Look at this:

And how very lucky for us that he just so happens to remain shirtless throughout most of the show. It's worth having to gag over Edward for that eye candy alone.

MEEEOOWWW.

There. That is all. Discuss.

Ah, the sense of humor someone has

So, you know how yesterday I posted about how awesome I am and how great my life is?

It's still all of those things. I'm just going to say it more quietly from here on out.

Life thought it would be funny and force me off that high horse today. It decided to send me two MORE sick kids, a husband whose business trip is extended by another few days, rain, a really bad hair day, a sleepless night, and an error of massive proportions on my part involving some clients' pictures and holiday cards.

All right. I get it. I'm not awesome and my life is not perfect.

Happy now, stupid universe?

Don't worry, though. I still think I'm awesome.

Thirty-six

Today, I am thirty-six.

Lots of people asked me today how I felt about turning over yet another year. And do you know what I said?

I feel so damn good.

For sure, my thirties are a lot more fun than my twenties. In my thirties, I no longer have to change diapers. Most nights I get a full eight hours of sleep. I feel more confident - like I am finally at home in my own skin. My wrinkles are not yet prominent enough to be requiring the botox. And I am slightly less concerned with how large my rear end is than I was in my twenties.

Only slightly.

But still. That's something, right?

Plus, I am actually getting paid to do something I love to do, on my own terms. I spend approximately seven hours every day all by myself. I have three beautiful kids who I can't wait to see at the end of those seven hours. I have a husband who, though out of town today, made sure to send two of my favorite birthday things: Cash and flowers.

I have friends who went above and beyond to make me feel loved and adored today. Friends that are like family. I have actual family who called and texted the birthday love. I have the Book of Face (which happily announces your birthday for you), thereby leading many old and new friends to wish me a happy day.

So as I sit here tonight, proofing pictures from a fabulously rich weekend in Philly, my new favorite soundtrack (Glee) is playing softly in the background, and I can't help but notice it --

I am just so blessed.

Can't wait to see what thirty-six has in store for me.

Philly photo phun, here I come!

Well, internets, it is adios from me for a few days. Headed out of town for a spontaneous little weekend in Philly. I get to see her and her, and FINALLY meet her and her. I am giddy with excitement.[ I am also practically paralyzed with fear as I have 11 photo shoots lined up for the weekend.]

Nothing like a little pressure, eh?

But I am looking forward to the trip. Especially the part where I sit on a plane all by myself and read a book for several hours. Bliss.

But before I go, I wanted to leave you with some of my favorite shots of the Great Family B. One of my favorite families anyway, but I am even more in love with them after getting to see them through the lens of my camera. They are some beautiful people, no? And nice? When you look up nice in in the dictionary - you would see this whole family there. Not an exaggeration either. Ask anyone who knows them.

This pic just might be my favorite of the whole batch - love the moment between a daddy and his sweet girl. Love the colors. It was a somewhat accidental picture - we had wrapped up the shoot and were getting ready to leave the park when I turned and saw this. And how, HOW, could I let one like this get away?

Wish every shot was this easy to take.

Have a good weekend, peeps. Don't have too much fun without me!

The sun'll come out tomorrow...

During the month of October, I think the sun forgot about us good people of Missouri. It rained and rained. And then when it was done raining, it rained some more. At one point, I turned to the Husband and asked him if he had moved us back to the East Coast without telling me.

The rain? It was bad. And I honestly don't think I could have taken much more of it.

So last week when the sun finally poked her lovely yellow face out, and we got temperatures in the glorious high-70s for days at a time, I remembered why I like it here. And one quiet morning, as I walked through my house, it seemed to me as though the sun was spilling in through each and every window - coming in on all sides of the house. The laws of physics make this an impossible task, I know, but photographic proof tells otherwise.

Because sunshine? Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy.

[And sunshine on my dirty floors even makes me happy.]

Sigh. Too bad the sun is elsewhere today. What I wouldn't give to sit in my living room, the sun warming my toes through the window, while I plow my way through a good novel.

Tell me, dear readers, is it sunny there today? And if so, got room on your couch for one more?