Let me tell you right now, if you’re a TL;DR kind of person, you might as well walk away. I think too much. analyze ad nauseum. and stream-of-consciousness write. paragraphs. pages. volumes. (it’s ridiculous, really.) unless, of course, I’m not doing that. because sometimes you don’t perseverate about it, you just do it and move on. I’m a gemini, by the way.
still here? excellent. I’m elaine. hi.
maybe you’ve met me before. virtually. or in flesh-mode as well. thanks for being interested enough to click. there are numerous ways I define myself, because labeling serves a purpose. but who knows how accurate any of those perceptions are. I do know that family is incredibly important to me. they make me feel hip and interesting by association. my parents just celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary, and I strive to be very much like them in many ways. they’re not perfect, but they’re still together, and I like them. and that says something. my brothers and sisters are my best friends. whenever we’re together, we drink and laugh and play poker. and eat and laugh. and drink. and eat. and there’s usually bacon involved at some point.
my husband has been my closest friend since high school, and he makes me feel smart and pretty. at least once a day a conversation between us involves the phrase “that’s what she said.” he makes this self-actualization thing possible with his support in all forms. he’s willing to live a bit more messily, frugally, and with three boys underfoot while I’m off being a photographer. my boys make me tired and happy and feel inexpressibly old and forever young. and while my house constantly feels like I’m in the middle of a circus performance, I’m glad that I won’t have teenage daughters.
I’m a woman who, just before her 40th birthday, discovered her bliss when one day borrowing her friend’s father’s dslr. and with a simple view-press-kaCHUNK, it all became clear. the skies opened up, colors were brighter, the air smelled sweeter. there was a burning bush, I think.
in the top 3 reasons about what is great about being a photographer: people are inviting you, trusting you, to capture moments. happy moments. fun moments. important moments. and those moments are about love. birthday love, wedding love, baby love, family love. love of a cause. or love of love. and luckily, I’m at a place in my life that it is a joy to be surrounded by all of that happiness. versus my unattached, bitter, boycotting-valentines-day college self. I’ll tell you a secret, though. even though I organized “wear black” events as a resident advisor, I still wore a bit of red underneath. because who doesn’t want to believe in love?
in past lives I was a boss, a peon, a powerpoint queen. a call-taker, letter-writer, decision-maker, low-man-on-the-totem-pole. the first friendly face, or the last line of defense. now, well…I’m not sure I can still call myself a stay-at-home mom if my three boys are no longer at home for a lot of the day. regardless, I’m a mom. and all that entails. for a woman who for quite a long time let the word “infertile” define her whole existence, I’m sometimes stunned and overwhelmingly grateful to look up and see this biologically created chaos which has been wrought.
daughter, sister, wife, mother. an air force brat, ENTP. friend. a filipina married to a german/english/irish white boy. (my boys will have to check “other” when filling in forms). in my head, I’m young-ish, strong, rational, amusing (I crack myself up all the time). a voracious reader and nightcap drinker—occasionally at the same time. it’s an escapist coping mechanism kind of thing. a woman caught in that age range that starts with MILF and ends in Cougar. and who is okay with it. I won’t lie. turning 40, and the couple of years after, sucked. midlife crises are much more amusing when they’re happening to people you don’t know. but on the up side, you make it through. 40-ish-ness brings an unapologetic acceptance of self that is freeing and wonderful. I accept and appreciate and welcome that people have ideas and beliefs and thoughts different than mine, and am finally at an age when I embrace my own, with no apologies. not with righteousness, just acceptance. I am so close to being completely comfortable in my own skin. at least way more often than not. how does this translate? in addition to being a wife and mother and all those other things, I am a photographer (I put it on LinkedIn, so it must be true). I will make time to do what I love. what I need to do. I will put myself first. sometimes.
I write as I think. in fragments. or with descriptives that include string-a-bunch-of-words-together-with-a-hyphen-to-make-an-adjective sentences. I like using lower case letters. except for the word “I”. I wonder if that’s telling. I’m an english major who uses her degree essentially to feel quietly superior when observing other’s grammatical mistakes. and to give my literary opinions a self-sense of validation. what else is there to do with it?
it takes a lot to ruffle my feathers. I thrive in high-energy situations, and am excellent under pressure and in emergencies. I’m uber-rational and tend to not take things personally. in fact, you kind of have to tap me on the shoulder, look me in the eye, and say “take this personally” if you want me to. I have an extremely high boiling point, though having children has shown me there are some chinks in my armor. If you mess with them, beware the scary mother bear. not that I’ve ever transformed. I just know I can.
I like bourbon and tequila and obscenely dirty martinis. I mean filthy. like pornographically dirty. and stinky cheeses. and deep-fried breaded anything. so, as a resultant necessity, I work out. a lot. I do crossfit. I’m working on getting my black belt in taekwondo. these are impressive facts if you knew just how little I ever worked out in my 20’s and 30’s. seriously. it’s not an obsession, just my realizing that I’m getting older, and that there’s no magic that will result in me waking up and being able to suddenly fit into my old prom dress. not that I would want to. it was the 80′s. hoop skirt. purple. spaghetti straps. ruffle trim. but I digress..
told you. lots of words.
but I can be quiet and listen. so contact me. it’s your turn to talk about you.
email me at firstname.lastname@example.org or fill out the form below! thank you!