See?

So proud. And I think I’ve found my assistants for when this photo thing becomes a Serious Photo Thing.

It’s the Kentucky Derby and I love every second of it. The weeks leading up to it are some of the most fun you can have in this town and given the choice between going to the track on the day or spending it with people I love, well…that’s an easy choice.

This year, I had every intention of photographing the whole day. Walking around with my camera, practicing my candid photography and stuff for upcoming weddings and such that I will be shooting.

But then I had a Lilly. Or four. And it was more fun to just sit and relax and talk to my friends and family and play a volleyball game or 8 or watch people race in humongous pairs of underwear or play wiffle ball baseball as the sun went down.

I did take a few photos, mainly of cigar-smoking, an annual tradition paired with Mint Juleps (for some brave souls) after the race. The first ones, though, are continuing our tradition of beautiful, America’s Next Top Model-caliber shots, as art directed by my sisters and cousins, and, for the first time, Anna’s boyfriend, Vince. He’s the one with the finger in his belly button for our “Abercrombie Shot.”

The next blog will have a slideshow full of amazing sports action photography, which I can take no credit at all for. I was playing. So I just provided the camera.

But for now, here are mine..

I look forward to the first Saturday in May like it’s Christmas. And I’m already excited for next year’s party. 364 days and counting…

Yeah…if you came back after the limited amount of excitement provided after March’s blogapalooza, you must really love me. And I love you, too.

It wasn’t intentional, originally. Granted my brain had just about dried up when it came to new and exciting things to share with you, and even when I did think of something, I didn’t have hardly any time to write it.

You should see my calendar for May. The only days without stuff written on them until after Memorial Day are Wednesdays. And Wednesdays are only blank because I can’t make plans for those days. Wednesdays are our production nights at work and I don’t get home before the sun goes down — and lately, I’m nowhere near home before the hour is into the double digits.

This is not a post to complain, because I want to be doing every single thing that’s keeping me busy. However, I would also like to blog. But something had to go for a bit, and unfortunately it was this website right here.

It’s not permanent, and I didn’t mean to stay quiet for so long, but when you work the majority of your day on a computer, the last thing you want to do is come home and work on one, therefore for almost all of April my laptop has been regulated to wedding-related work and Netflix instant TV shows and movies only. Oh, and I finished a book or two in there somewhere.

Yeah, we’ve missed a bit, you and me. And for that I am sorry, especially if this is even such a thing that merits an apology.

But I have had people ask about why I wasn’t posting and encouraging me to get back on the horse and what a better time to do so then right around The Most Wonderful Time of The Year, the Kentucky Derby! (See what I did there?)

More substantial stuff will come later on – like photos from my family’s Derby party this weekend – where I get all stealthy and try to take amazing candid stuff in preparation for these weddings (yes, plural) I’ll be taking pictures at next month. Plus there’s the usual stuff you can look forward to – the texts that sound like my friends, insane amounts of Instagram pictures, the websites I wish I’d thought of and a ridiculous amount of songs because I spend entirely too much time in the iTunes Store.

But I want you to know, I’m not gonna be quiet for a whole month again, in case you’re worried. If you’re not, well, then, bully for you. You shouldn’t be.

For now you’ll have to settle with an update on a lot of things, portioned in nice little bite-size morsels for you so we’re all caught up and it’s like I never left!

Ready? Go.

Gettin’ crafty up in this piece
One of the things you’ll see later this month is how, while I was “away,” I was real crafty. Like, so much so you won’t believe it was me that did it on account of I usually suck at crafts.

This is the way we ball
Sand Volleyball. Monday nights. The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. Well maybe not but damn is it hard to run in sand. And one night it was so cold my feet turned purple.
In other news I can’t serve in the sand, but am infinitely more willing to throw myself towards the ball. On account of it doesn’t hurt. Especially if you have one of those later games and you get a couple beers in beforehand. Note: The beers have nothing to do with my serving abilities, or lack thereof.

The 28th Amendment
Full disclosure – I had to Google how many amendments there were in the Constitution. Don’t judge me. You probably didn’t know it either – there are 27 – unless you are Baby Einstein.
This particular amendment has nothing to do with a historical document, because, well, I never wrote my Five down on paper.
After careful consideration and months of not having him on my TV, I have decided to make a change. I’m removing Michael C. Hall from the list, though I’d still like to have him tell me bedtime stories ’cause his voice is sexy. He’ll be replaced by Zac Efron. Again, don’t judge me. He grew up. And he grew up well.
That’s all I’ll say about that except for how I haven’t seen his new movie yet but I really really want to and the preview by itself is enough to make me need a cold shower.

The best show you aren’t watching
Justified. It’s about Kentucky. Eastern Kentucky. Timothy Olyphant just shoots people. ‘Cause he can. And Daniel Faraday from LOST is in it. As the opposite of Daniel Faraday from LOST. I’ve watched all three seasons in the past month. HOOKED. Thank you, Eth.

Weddings and babies and houses, oh my!
We are currently less than two months from Ashley and Matt’s wedding, less than three months from Rebeck and Jered’s and less than four months from Rachel and Swarles’!
Wedding season is in full swing – May is full of showers and parties and that reminds me, I have a dress to get altered.
After this weekend I’ll have taken three couples’ Engagement/Save-the-Date pictures and I was recently asked to shoot another wedding. WHAT?
Add to that the addition of our little half-pint, Emma, to the CKR fold and you guys, we have a baby. Who let us have a baby? And there’s another one coming in October!
Our second half-pint belongs to Katie and Hunter, who recently just made MY life considerably better by moving to the Lou. Now we just gotta get Sammi to Nashville and our plans for a CKR compound will be closer to fruition.

That One Time I Almost Rode In A Hot Air Balloon
With Derby season comes Derby Festival, which includes a ton of cool events that you get to participate in if you so choose, moreso if your job is in the media. Yours truly was ALMOST so lucky.
Scheduled to go up in a hot air balloon for the Great Balloon Race that was cancelled the morning of. And it was not rescheduled. Even though it is, EVERY. OTHER. YEAR.
We’re not talking about it anymore, but I have to share this gem:
When I was talking to my mom about getting to ride in the race, she said, “Do you get to go on it for the whole time?” to which I replied, “Nope, I’ll probably bail out in the middle of it. I think they’ll probably have a parachute for me.”

Running
What is, things I stopped doing completely? Yeah, about that. I’m getting my ass into gear this month because I’m signing up for a couple of runs later this year. And if I sign up and pay the money, then I have to do it. And that is some good motivation, because I don’t like to waste money (pay no attention to my ever-expanding DVD collection…).
So far, my friend Sammi has convinced me to do the Tap ‘N Run in Nashville (I am nowhere near ready and probably won’t be, for the one in Louisville) and the Color Run, which are a 4 and 5K, respectively. And the Tap ‘N Run includes beer. So there’s that.

Making a list and checkin’ it twice
A few weeks ago my good friend Matt (who, by the way is a beast of a runner and is gonna get famous for his blog, Lager Jogger, so you should check it out and say you were there at the beginning), Tweeted to me “I have so many things to do I need to make a list of all the lists I need to make.”
Never has something been more true. This is my life right now, which is fine, but WHOA a pause button like Zack Morris had on Saved By The Bell when the world paused but he didn’t have to would be real nice some days.
I have lists of lists to make, for real, and at some point, I’m gonna get to them all.
Eventually.
I’ll put it on my list.

I think by “best” she means favorite, and I know I’m right because I have relatives in New Jersey so I can speak the language. Clarification – my relatives in Jerz have nothing to do with Jersey Shore in any way, shape or form. And I’m really just guessing about the “best” stuff.

Anyways. My new best thing? This blog: #whatshouldwecallme

So funny. So great. I need to learn how to make gifs.

And so I laid there. Staring at the ceiling and then the wall while I tried to think about nothing. Which is damn near impossible. Because I think that’s what you’re supposed to do in yoga, which makes every attempt to get you there, but all I was thinking about last time was “Really? This is yoga? Why haven’t I done this before? We’re basically just power-napping right now!” And then I thought about the nap I was
gonna take that weekend and how it was the first one I’d have taken in the past month because I’ve been busy and here’s why I have been busy and blah blah shut up already.

Tuesday night’s insomnia was nothing new, but the thoughts running through my head were. You see, today I turn 28. No big deal, right? Right, just like every other year of my 20s (after 21 of course). But for some reason, in those 2 hours after I attempted to go to bed, 28 seemed really scary.

If I had to metaphor it for you, it’d be like I was about to bungee jump (which I would never do in real life because that’s how your leg gets torn off and also, heights? Holy shit.). I was standing there, holding on and scared. I didn’t know what it was going to be like, I wasn’t ready for it and what in the hell had even brought me here?

On Tuesday night, that’s how I felt about my impending birthday. You guys, I have never felt like that about a birthday. I thought it’d come at 30, which makes so much more sense, because 30! No more 20s!

And here’s where it gets all therapy-like. Bear with me for a minute. Sidenote: Found a new therapist, that returns phone calls! One less thing to worry about! Now, if we could just stop playing phone tag and set up an appointment already…

You know what I thought about Tuesday night? Plans. Like, the plans when you’re younger and think you can control life to an extent and figure by this age you’ll do this and that age you’ll do that and 16-year-old me thought that by 28 I’d be married with one kid already, if not two. Funny how things work out.

I don’t know what I thought I’d be doing for work at this time, but I know an entertainment magazine of some sort was the priority. Glad that didn’t happen, though, because I’m pretty sure there aren’t any based in Louisville, at least not the kind I want to work for. And I need to stay here. This is where my heart is. Also, Derby.

Every once in a while – and it’s very rare – I feel like it’s Groundhog Day, but only for me. I’m doing the same things I’ve always done the same way I’ve always done them but around me, everyone else is moving on, changing, growing.

It’s silly. I worry about silly things. Because life, right now, for me? Is great. Is it what I thought it would be when I was 16? Nope. Is that a bad thing? HELL no. When I was 16 I also thought that being treated like crap by a guy was OK because hey, it was attention. Things change, people change, and I’m glad I’m where I am today because who said I’d be happy if I’d gotten what I thought I would when I was 16 by now?

It’s dumb to be scared, because it’s just another birthday – just another year that doesn’t really mean anything unless I make it mean something. And I plan to. Good things, remember? And I’ll bungee jump (metaphorically, not in real life). I’ll go into 28 willingly, not holding on to 27 for dear life because I’m used to it and I know it’s
safe and OK and happy and fine.

So after those two hours of anxiety-ridden tossing and turning Tuesday night, reading several articles on Cracked to get my mind off things and listening to a song Baby Einstein introduced me to first thing Wednesday morning, I was fine. I still am fine. And I’ll be fine. Just don’t ask me to bungee jump for real. I like having both legs.

P.s. The song Cheesebob told me about was Fun.’s “Be Calm.” Should become my motto. But it’s addicting and we sing it loud and I love it a lot.

Also, while I am scared of heights, that doesn’t mean I won’t try new things if they’re up high. What do I mean? Well there’s a good chance yours truly is riding in a balloon in the Derby Festival’s balloon race. WHAT? Let the irrational fears of death by balloon crash commence.

Oh, and happy birthday to me. Twenty-eight. Bring it.

That’s three years of writing about happy stuff, sad stuff, personal stuff, funny stuff, downright ridiculous stuff, photography stuff…..all on this lil’ website which people continue to visit for some reason.

And whatever that reason is, I’m happy about it. I’m glad that you’re here. I want to hear more from you and do more stuff on here that you’ll find interesting so you’ll keep coming back.

I write this a lot for me, but I want it to be for others too. I want to share my stories, happy or sad, because it’s therapeutic. And it’s fun.

I have plans for this next year of blogging. And if there’s anything you want to see or see more of or want me to quit writing about altogether, lemme hear it.

And thanks for sticking with me!

Happy birthday, blog!

Also, this. Just because I can. And if you don’t love Stevie Wonder, you don’t love America.

There’s been a blog – and soon, a book – made out of that question, and it simultaneously serves to feed our nosiness and maybe make people think about what’s the most important stuff they have in their possession.

It’s called “The Burning House” and people send in submissions – photos – of neatly arranged items that they’d grab if they had to make a quick exit from their home, something that hopefully they’d never really have to experience.

There are a lot of electronics, photos and pets, of course. And while I’m not sure yet if I’ll submit it to the site, here’s my pile.

I gave myself only about a minute to think about it. In case you can’t see everything- it includes the following:
• Sixteen Candles DVD
• Johnny Cash Live at Folsom Prison record from my grandpa
• Laptop
• Camera
• Peanut, my stuffed elephant that I’ve had forever and has been with me on just about every trip I’ve ever been on…
• Pictures of me and my grandpa when I was little, he’s playing his harmonica in all of them
• Boston and Louisville hats
• The Wire Complete Series
• My four favorite books: “Water for Elephants,” “To Kill A Mockingbird,” “Me Talk Pretty One Day” and “The Help.”
• Little decorated box Alistair made me in England with British pounds in it
• Door sign thing that says “Shhh Laura is sleeping” that’s been on the door in my room (except for my rooms in college) since before I can remember.

What’s in your pile?

1. The first time I did yoga – WHAT was I thinking??

2. I wrote about when I got motivated.

3. Apparently I look like Paul McCartney?

4. Guys, I am not a painter.

5. Twice in one year I’m in a hospital because of an organ.

6. Bourbon Boyzzzz – six for the price of one.
One, two, three, four, five and six.

7. Saying goodbye to Grandpa.

8. Mission accomplished

9. Wherein my love affair with PIMM’S begins. Oh and Ashley and I went to England for a week.

10. I shared with you the story of my depression and anxiety. And it made me feel so much better.

So if you haven’t already, please read and enjoy. Or re-read and re-enjoy. Or tell me in the comments if I left any off you liked.

And thanks so much for reading!! I don’t really know why you do, a lot of the time, but I sure am grateful for it!

Ew.

But it has been requested that I watch an episode and let you know my thoughts and being that I have Netflix with streaming episodes I can take my pick.

Can I first say, though… movies on Netflix are all categorized and whatnot, so this, of course, is under the headers “TV Shows,” “Reality TV,” and “TV Documentaries.”

Underneath that it says “This show is Dark.”

And smelly.

Before we get started, if you’re wondering to yourself, “Am I a hoarder?” My sister is asking herself the same question over on her blog. Only she’s just hoarding things like homies and cow photo collages.

OK, here we go. (I can now only think of that Bud Light commercial every time I say that/hear that).

I’m picking the episode titled “Gordon & Gaye/Sir Patrick,” because you know anyone who is referred to as Sir Patrick has plenty of crazy going in…even before the hoarding.

“We are not hoarders, we are collectors.” That’s what they all say.

Oh God, this is gonna be good. How did I never see this when it was on TV?

I think Gordon and Gaye live in The Shire. There is a lawn on their roof.

Cheese grater is in the living room. First sign of a problem.

Their adult kids never moved out. I’m pretty sure this is not their fault, Gordo.

“I’m not happy with it, my wife’s not happy with it.” THEN CLEAN IT UP! How’d you let it get like this?

Oh, next to the cheese grater is Tidy Cats. Obvi.

These people ONLY decide to clean when threatened with homelessness. Nevermind the fact that they’re breathing in cobwebs the size of their bodies every night and theres cat litter in the cheese grater. WTF. I will never be a hoarder.

Renee is 38. Lives at home. Watches Golden Girls on a laptop on her bed, at least I think that’s her bed, She may have just been sitting on a pile of purses. Thinks her family “just let it get a little out of hand.”

I like the irony of every single one of their comments: “We are not hoarders..we just have not gotten rid of anything.” (She forgot to add the word, ‘ever.’) “We are simply called collectors.”

OK, seriously, the mom, who is 71, fell and was trapped for 11 hours. That’s not “just a messy house,” kids.

Renee is pissed that after the rescue crews found out about the house, they sent inspectors out the next day.

“They didn’t even call!” Oh Renee, why does that matter? Were you gonna tidy up the place before they got there?

“There were 8 policemen.” Um, that’s three less than the number of hours your wife was trapped under the pile of shit you “collect” in your house.

There were cages in the front yard where they had cats. Of course they did. These hoarders always have cats. 900 of them.

They just said there was feces. That’s the point in these episodes when The Roommate gags just from hearing the word.

Oh, they only had seven cats.

Renee is a little nuts. “I will never forgive him for that. He took my smile away, the day he took my cat.” Liar, I saw you smiling while you were watching Golden Girls earlier.

No running water. And no functioning bathroom. WHAT IN THE HELL…………

Oh gross.

“This is probably the worst day of my life.” The day you have to clean your house so you can safely live in it? Yeah that’s horrible.

OHHHHHH SIR PATRICK. Hold on I need to rewind because a) he’s wearing a purple suit, purple hat and purple shoes, and b) I think he has 10 names.

Sir Colonel Doctor Patrick Donovan Flanagan O’Shanahan. No shit. I’m getting a pet fish and naming it that.

He just said he is King Arthur and Peter Pan. And he lives in Camelot. And drives with a creepy doll in the passenger seat of his car.

“I collect anything beautiful.” Which translates to “Anything someone sells for less than a dollar at their yard sale cause it’s crap.”

Samurai swords, creepy dolls, “anything that’s peaceful.” Um, that doll is not peaceful. She’ll kill you while you sleep.

Sir Patrick is now bankrupt.

Oh he actually got knighted by Prince Charles.

He has $100. Where did he get that takeout food he’s heating up then? Or the bluetooth on his ear?

EW bug in a glass.

He has 300 watches. I don’t even have ONE. (Fun fact: My dad’s argument against me ever getting a tattoo is “You don’t even wear a watch.” Because, you know, that’s the same thing.)

“Yes I collect stuff. Do bears go potty in the woods?” Yes, Sir Patrick, they sure do.

OK, so he lived in an orphanage and never had a family. Which makes me feel sad for him. BUT. Plenty of people have survived the same thing without becoming a hoarder and going bankrupt.

(Real talk here… I’m lonely sometimes, but I will never have this much stuff.)

He thinks everything in his house altogether is worth 2 million and if it’s not he’ll never recover. I feel like this is foreshadowing.

Back to G&G.

Where are the walls in your shower? How does that happen???

There it is again, “We’re not hoarders, but we sure have a lot of stuff.” THAT IS BASICALLY THE DEFINITION OF A HOARDER.

Gordon: “I’ll die here before I’ll let anyone through this front door.” Damn.

I am scared of Gordon. Also, he looks like George C. Scott.

He hates the shrink.

Sir Patrick is fancy. Wearing all white. He going to Diddy’s White Party?

Ugh its the shrink lady I don’t like.

Sir Patrick owns many kimonos, I think.

Bunny in a tux! Someone should make an I Spy game out of this show.

Sir Patrick wants to meet a lady.

Shrink: “The world he lives in doesn’t allow for humans.”

They wanna keep all this stuff. All I saw in that corner was Pepsi cans and trophies.

Ooh Renee’s a bitch! The organizer said “OK, well this is good, it’s not raining” and Renee said “not yet.” Also she smiled again. Again, her smile is not gone, as she said earlier.

“This morning it’s going fantastic.” Bet shit’s gonna get crazy later…

Gaye would like to keep a 2008 cat calendar. The important stuff.

Oh shit she has one of those grabber things that someone got at Game Night Christmas. I forget who got it, but don’t become a hoarder!! (But if you do, you’ll be prepared.)

“These are things we’ve collected and I’m not gonna let them go.” Empty Mountain Dew bottles?

Damn they’re being mean to the shrink! “She doesn’t want you in there, so stay out.”

Also Gordon looks like The Penguin sometimes.

Did Sir Patrick just say “Carmelot?”

Now he’s dressed as a jester? Oh wait, no. Geisha.

They’re just standing there and not doing anything yet and sweating. They must be in Miami.

Getting a lot of stuff out!! And he’s happy! Good job, Sir Patrick.

“I don’t deal well with negativity, so I eliminate it.” Way to be.

Oh now he’s pissed. Everything he thinks is worth 2,000 bucks is worth 200.

Gordon keeps giving the camera the stink-eye.

“A lot of control going on in this family.” Uh, duh. I know that and I only minored in psych.

SICK.

Do NOT mess with Gordon.

“Why don’t we just take what we want and leave here?” As his wife cleans up the litter box – oh wait that’s a chair. A once-nice chair. USED AS A LITTER BOX.

Sir Patrick is not as happy today as he was yesterday.

Dolls. Are. Creepy.

EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW bugs in the fridge!

“I’ve never had bugs before so why would you think it’s me?”
Because they’re in your fridge in your house that you live in by yourself.

Ew.

Gordon says he is fine but I think he might be lying.

God bless these cleaning people. The shit they must see…

“The women are the hoarders.” SEXIST.

And they get the cats back! OK, Renee, stop kissing it. Also, don’t let them shit IN A CHAIR.

The inspector just said “On a scale of 9 to 10, it’s a 10.” I think you’ve got something wrong there, sir… that’s not a scale.

SO many bugs. Ew.

I think Sir Patrick’s organizer is Heather French Henry.

OK good, he’s OK.

Also he has two full sets of armor.

Not a happy ending with this one. Sir Patrick had a heart attack afterwards but is staying clean.

Angry Gordon and fam got kicked out of their house – it got condemned and they now live in an apartment with four cats. Bet Renee is pissed.

“They’ve refused all offers of mental health therapy.” Of course they have.

I’ve taken two sets of “Save-The-Date” photos for two of the three sets of my favorite couples getting married this summer. And I’m pretty proud of them.

Neither one went as planned – at Rachel and Chuckie’s it was ridiculously windy and the sun was completely blinding when you stood in front of the building.

And for Rebecca and Jered’s, the plan was to go to downtown Nashville, until randomly and for no reason it snowed the day we were supposed to go. So we went to Opryland Hotel, which is beautiful but has poorly-placed bathrooms (fun fact: I had to pee so bad I think I ran through that entire hotel trying to find a place).

But it’s not about me, it’s about them. And how awesome they are for trusting an unprofessional photographer with a nice camera to take such important photos for them.

So here’s some a lot of them, only a few of which we used. But I included a bunch that didn’t make the final cut. You’re welcome.
Click to view slideshow.