Okay, so for this story, anytime you see the words, “holla,” “holler” or anything that resembles them, you must imagine it either being said with an echo, orrrr said quickly and repeatedly (i.e. “holla” becomes “hollahollahollahollaholla”) because although Missy Elliot isn’t as popular as she was when she coined that phrase (I think it’s because she abandoned that big huge black trash bag outfit), and Dave Chappelle has been jaded by the fortune and the fame, but didn’t completely fall prey to the game, they have transformed a rather ordinary word into quite the opposite.

But I slightly digress.

The night Derek and Erin met, they were both dead set on not going out. Erin’s cousins dragged her out of the house. Meanwhile, Derek also was dragged out of the house by his friends and ended up in the same spot that evening, a hole in the wall (as my father would say) in downtown Baltimore.

When Erin first laid eyes on Derek, she was like “HOLLLLLLLLLAAAAA,” (in her mind), but alas, she was out with a few friends, and one of them happened to know Derek. Said friend walked up to Derek (with Erin in tow) and said his hellos, and Derek replied by saying ‘I think this girl (Erin!) is trying to holla (hollahollaholla) at me.’ The friend took the hint and kept it movin.

After a memorable night of laughter at the docks in Fell’s Point in picturesque Baltimore, Erin felt the HOLLLLLAAAA explode in her heart, and the rest was history. Two years later, in that same spot on the docks in Fell’s Point, Derek fell to one knee and popped the question.

Erin is really in touch with nature, so the venue, Celebrations at the Bay, in Pasadena, was a no-brainer. With the foamy Chesapeake water licking the porous black rocks and the GORGEOUS sunset we were blessed to have towards the end of the night, we were in landscape heaven.

Did I mention that Erin’s a creative GENIUS? She put her personal touch on everything, from the wedding favors, to the starfish the Ring Bearer held, to the shells that lined the walkway to the altar, everything had a seascape theme to it.

Val and I took about 50 GRILLION photos, as usual, which is why it’s taken me so long to whittle it down. I’m toying with a different slideshow software, so I’m sure if i get frustrated enough I’ll go back to my old trusty one

Anyway, onto the photos!

Erin’s father passed away when she was a baby, and he was in the military, so Erin tucked his dogtag into her bouquet, and wore her mother’s pearls:

Since this was a family affair, we had to get all the ladies’ dresses in one shot.

Fly shoes for a fly girl!

Macayla had some fly shoes as well

Val and I went CRAZY with the makeup photos, as you can see:

Val is AWESOME:

Mom what’s going on?

QUITE the arsenal:

Another favorite:

The makeup artist brought out Erin’s natural beauty, and her reaction once she got a look of herself in the mirror was PRICELESS:

Nerves:

He’s going to be a HEARTBREAKER:

Maddy was anxious to get the show on the road!

Like I said, this was more of a coming together as a family, so the whole family poured unity sand into a vessel to symbolize it. Derek’s holding Macayla, and partially hidden behind the awning, and I feared that I would plunge into the Chesapeake if I took one more step (I was balancing on a rock for this shot!)

HOLLLLLLAAAAAAA!!!

At the end of the ceremony, they released some lovey-doves into the air:

Bubbles are GREAT:

Beautiful layout in the reception area:

Okay! The food. Shut. The. Front. Door.

Erin reserved a spot for me and Val at a table with the guests (she even made placecards for us, which I will keep forever and ever in my backpack , and we got our GRUB on. Lobster tails were DELICIOUS!

GORGEOUS cake:

SERIOUS BLING:

The sunset was GORRRRRRRGEOUS:

Val and I were lucky to meet both Erin and Derek at Evelyn and Tim’s wedding, and I can honestly say, the love they have for each other and their girls (Maddy and Macayla) is so beautiful. We felt SOOOOOOO honored to be a part of your special day!

The slideshow is HERE

hollahollahollaholla (I couldn’t RESIST)

We drove down to Charlotte, North Carolina to visit my parents this weekend. Talk about separation anxiety…they moved here about a year and a half ago from Virginia and I am still getting used to them not being a 20-minute drive away.

I took a few shots here and there of the knickknacks my mom has kept around the house that triggered the nostalgia:

When I took a photography class, I used these as my study for DOF

Little Cups.

You can take the cook out of the kitchen, but…my dad always makes lists any time the kids come visit for dinner:

One of my mentors said the other day in a phone conversation with another colleague of mine (she relocated to Chicago to pursue her MFA in Creative Writing), that you know you’re getting older when you visit home less and less. Well…this is the second time I’ve visited my parents since they made the move down to Charlotte from the hustle and bustle that is the D.C./Metro area…but I still feel those pangs of wanting to be closer every time I visit them. I know, I’m a big baby, right?

Yesterday we visited the Savannah College of Art and Design. It was my first time ever in Georgia, so ostensibly my transplant-pseudo-Yankee mentality was in full force. As my father says, Maryland and Virginia are still the south, they’re just more northern

SCAD is set in a gorgeous historic town. Tons and tons and tons of beautiful scenery. And my faaaavooorriittte…BRICK WALLS! I didn’t get as many photos as I wanted to, partly because of hunger, partly because of my decision to wear flats instead of sneakers (ouch) and partly because of time, but here are a few snapshots:

Ron Paul is not very popular it seems:

A five and dime (and dollar!)

Bergen Hall, the school of photography @ SCAD:

I got the chance to speak to someone there regarding the MFA in Photography program (which btw, I will be applying for soooooooooon), got a tour of the Photography building (exposed brick, y’all) and I got my portfolio critiqued, so it was really worthwhile. The professor was strangely reassuring when I told her that I have a degree in Psychology and I’m largely self-taught but I think the MFA program is the right fit for me…she said she had quite a few students who came from another school of thought but are now incredibly successful in the photography field.

I tried to picture us living in the Souf’, and while right now, it’s not something I’m completely ready for, but the tune might change if I get an acceptance letter from them in the future. It would be a major life change for me and Mr…

MAY-JA (c) Victoria Beckham.

One stereotype about the Souf’ that I think might actually be fact is that everything is slowed down considerably. People look (and walk!) as if they take their time living, and it is a big contrast from what I’m used to in D.C. Savannah is laid out like a grid (just like D.C.), yet we managed to get lost when we left the Photography School, but we weren’t alone. We came across about four different people trying to find their way out as well.

Eventually we made our way to the car and drove past all the gorgeous mansions and carriage houses back to Charlotte.

Today, I might shoot my niece (photographically speaking, of course before I head back to the stacked, sardine, cramped, overpriced Virginia that I have grown accustomed to. Who knows where the wind will blow us in a few years. All I know is I really want my MFA!

An update on:

2 judges being sworn in

some random stuff i took photos of (i think)

the wedding i just shot, uhh…today!

maybe photos from the Souf’ (my parents’ house)

probably some other stuff i can’t think of b/c my brain is fried!

i’ll be back!

My nephew is cute. Angry, but most likely and quite possibly the cutest baby in the world. Since his arrival, I’ve been snapping away. Lots of photos in this post, so I hope you enjoy!

BACKSTORY:

About four months ago, my super-pregnant sis-in-law wanted me to shoot her maternity photos. I remember we decided on a Saturday morning, and I woke up extra early to make sure I had everything packed. As I was about to head to my car, my cell phone went off. It was a text message from my brother saying ‘Um. We gotta cancel the photo shoot. We’re on our way to the hospital.’

I was crestfallen. Not as much as my sister though

His name is Donald Ryan. My father calls him little Chili Bean. Which sounds way cuter in spanish, frijolito. All of us have horrible nicknames, btw; my brother and I are tortugas or turtles, my sister is a snail, and my niece is a rat (Don’t ask.)

To this day, I scratch my head when I think about how my father came up with these odd names for us.

Anyway, here he is when he was brand new and shiny. I think he was a few weeks old in this pic. Already unimpressed with large people with booming voices:

 

Here he is with Gramps. He just woke up from his nap. Notice the dried milk around his mouth:

 

Again, with bedhead, held by my niece. But curious about the big black lens in his face. Almost smiling.

 

He decided to express his anger towards the paparazzi:

 

I was saddened by his actions and packed up my camera and left the house in tears, vowing never to return.

However, his mom called and said that he wouldn’t be so hard on me the next time I showed up, so I agreed to a re-shoot this past weekend.

Things started off on an interesting note. It amazes me how a little person who weighs probably about as much as my left arm can control a house full of grown-ups. He didn’t want to wear shoes, he didn’t want his hair combed, he didn’t want a bottle, and he made sure everybody knew that he was not pleased!

Eventually he settled down. We went outside. My brother, his dear father, began to play a game of catch-the-baby:

 

He wasn’t feeling that too much. So we laid him on the grass so he could look at the pretty blue sky and puffy clouds. Instead he glared at me, undoubtedly plotting revenge, taking inventory in his baby-brain, and storing a mental note in his Rolodex, perhaps when he could be able to crawl towards me and smash my camera into tiny pieces.

 

He’s not able to sit up on his own yet, so we propped him up against his Bumbo (this strange torture contraption that I’m sure I will invest in when we have a baby), but he continued to plan for world domination accordantly.

 

After he voiced his disapproval of the outside world as his backdrop, we brought him inside. Instantly, his disposition changed. Okay, I’m lying. It wasn’t instant. I bribed him with one of his many many many colorful and loud toys:

 

We also learned that he loves to exist without clothes.

And that he’s quite the Ladies’ Man:

He has a way with Mommy:

 

And Abuelita:

 

And…yours truly. I fell under the spell:

 

So I’ve survived getting my wisdom teeth removed—sorta. I have to get my stitches removed tomorrow (my yawns are soooo unfulfilling!) b/c mine weren’t of the magically disappearing kind but…I’m a trooper (sort of) and assisted the awesomely awesome Julie Napear in a wedding over the weekend! I had some fun! Here’s a few of my favorites:

A little nervous?

Soooo I have to tell you the story! I got to hang with the menfolk while Julie did her thing w/the ladies, and it was SO MUCH FUN! I felt like the little sister that always tags along with the older brothers and then FINALLY one of them has a heart and says, ‘Okay okay, you can hang out but ONLY until we go play *insert mannish man game that I could potentially get hurt in and tell Mom* and then you have to go back to your stupid Barbies.’

Okay, maybe that was just me, and my older brother, and my cousin Stanley

Anyway, so the groomsmen are milling about, putting on their boutonnieres and one of the bridesmaids comes in and gives the groom’s ring to the best man.

All of a sudden, Groom got quiet, gulped, and then tore out of the room. Two groomsmen took off after him, and the rest of us realized the reason for chaos: Groomie forgot the ring in the hotel!

After about five minutes, his crew got him to come back into the room so he could finish getting ready, and I offered him a cookie, to calm down. Why? Because cookies are fabulous and they offer solace the moment you bite into one.

Except…his cookie wanted to be part of his outfit. A smudge on his crisp white tie! I felt so guilty. Because cookies have never done me wrong in life, let alone a groom on his big day!

(Which reminds me, from now on, I’m stocking a Tide pen in my bag!)

Eventually, everything fell into place, because they always do and the ceremony went as planned:

And I wanted to finish with this shot. Bride was adjusting her train, so she handed Groom her bouquet and he held it so daintily that I just had to snap it:

Congratulations Christine and Tyler, I wish you guys the best!