Meet Anne

This week marked the one year anniversary of meeting Anne, and being able to see her the week before when she flew up here for her birthday was. awesome.

Last year, Lidia and I taught a workshop together in Dallas (post here) and during that week, she had Anne come and help set up sessions and watch the kids. But that was pretty much where the business stopped and the three of us forged friendships that week after 3 AM talks, amazing Mexican food, froyo, questionable stores, and our differing opinions on the tastiness of “green juice” (ask Lidia). At one point during the workshop where my son Nicholas was a model, we were in a field in the middle of nowhere and Nicholas told Anne he had to poop. That’s my son, for you, though. I swear the kid never needs to take a dump at home, but only at the worst possible times in the most ridiculous situations. In recent memory it’s been: As a plane was taxiing down the runway for takeoff, right before walking down the aisle in a wedding he was a ring bearer in, during a newborn session for a friend right as I was starting the first pose, the second we got in the car for a long trip, the second EVERY child in the group at the Children’s Museum is done using the bathroom and we’re about to go to the next exhibit, etc. you get the picture.

So here’s Anne, with this strange little boy (who due to her very short haircut at the time and a penchant for wearing thrify fedoras – kept asking her if she was a grandpa) who had to goooooo. Like right there. This is like first-class BTDT mom crap (pun intended) and she was totally cool about it and took him behind some bushes and talked him through his first ever public defecation. I knew then that it was destiny that we would be friends. That and she and Nicholas had this weird crisis-bond thing going on that I wasn’t about to come between.

Anne came up again for the last of the workshops that Lidia and I would teach together, and once again was invaluable work-wise, setting up outside during 107 degree heat and chasing kids while Lidia and I taught. After a medical scare forced Lidia back to Texas before the workshops were over, Anne stepped up and helped me teach that part of the class. This was also the week that my mom’s test results from her surgery came back – ovarian cancer. So as soon as the workshop was over, Anne drove over to my parents’ home with me and we spent a few days there, and she fit in with my family as if she had grown up a part of it all her life 🙂

It’s been a long 9 months since August, but we’ve kept in touch every week since then and when I picked her up at the airport on Friday it was like she had never left. MOVE. TO. INDIANAPOLIS. NOW.

We took the kids to Cracker Barrel (we are totally regulars there) and the kids were allowed to pick out a cheap toy from the $5 and under rack each, and some glitter-glow in the dark-fairy tattoos caught both of our eyes. I’m not sure who said, “We should do a sleeve” first but we couldn’t get home fast enough to slap those puppies on.

When Nick came home that evening and his eyes bulged at the sight of the Hello Kitty meets Hell’s Angels meets Lisa Frank sleeve that Anne was rocking, he was all, “That HAD to have taken you like, half an HOUR to do, losers.” (he didn’t say losers, but quite frankly, he didn’t have to).

Half an hour?


It took THREE hours. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

And it was beautiful. Horses farting sparkle stars, fighting cobras, inappropriate 8 ball, and enough Hello Kitties to make your eyes bleed rainbows.

Taken on my parents’ land in Brookville, since we had to bring the whole thing full circle and hang out with my 100% healthy mama!

I promise I’ll blog the faux wedding ASAP, I just wanted y’all to get an idea of who Anne is! 😉

  1. amber says:

    I just have to say that this literally made me LOL!!! I loved the part where you said it took 3hours. That’s awesome. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love your blog posts. Thanks for making me smile!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *