Photographing them is equally as funny. Nothing makes you more invisible, I think. It's strange, but true. As soon as I'm finished taking a photo, I'm a ghost. I sat outside to take a break after six hours straight of snapping away (I have a pile of SD cards totaling 72 GB. I maxed them out), and a couple asked me if it would be a bother for them to sit and smoke by me. I told them it wouldn't be a bother at all. I even let them use my lighter. They giggled with each other, and whispered intimately into the other's neck, and right as the kissing started, I got up to make my exit, and they legitimately said, "OH my god, we didn't see you there, sorry!" I laughed, and went inside. A camera is an amazing shield.
Part of me doesn't understand weddings. Part of me thinks they're silly and antiquated, and absurd wastes of money. But part of me is wistful and sad that I'm not getting married. I think I'd have an exceptionally tasteful wedding. But I suppose the world may never now.
I'm exhausted. Physically and emotionally drained.
I've put on my kitty slippers
My love mug, filled to the brim (or was, before I took the picture) with my always sexy and reliable boyfriend
and additionally, I am the not-so-proud owner of the face of a girl that is one of the most exhausted girls on the planet (I love you, hyperbole!)
I'm ready to go to bed, but I'm all wound up. I need hugs, and rubs, and emotional pettings, Oh, well. So it goes. Tomorrow should be a nice, lazy day. I'm going to brunch again, where I plan on drinking mimosas and reading a book, I'll go to the gym at some point, and I don't think I'll look at these photos. Not for another few days.
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