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    I'm Janica, a Houston-based portrait photographer, and this is the JBO PHOTO blog. Here, you can check out my recent work, get the scoop on jbo photo sessions, and find out more (probably a LOT more) than you ever wanted to know about the day-to-day adventures of my quirky family.

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Can’t I just work out…please??

Need to gripe.  

As soon as Bailey turned 3 months old, I was thrilled to be able to go to the gym again. I LOVE the time to just crank up my ipod and focus on the misery that is the elliptical machine. It is ME time. Awesome. Necessary. And hey, I hear that there are some sort of health benefits from exercise too. Pretty sweet deal.

Can someone please explain the importance of this tri-weekly ritual to Bailey? She just HATES being in the child watch. At first, it was OK…she would get fussy, I would go nurse her and she would calm back down or go to sleep so I could finish my work out. Recently, however, I am able to get 30 minutes at the very most before they page me. And she’s DONE. With kids out of school for the summer, the child watch is very crowded and I know that Bailey can’t get as much one on one attention…but good golly, can’t they just try a little bit harder to keep her happy??  After a couple weeks of mini-work out sessions, I’d all but given up and took a break for a few weeks. 

This morning, however, I decided that my weekend meals had been particularly indulgent and that I really really needed to get back to the ol’ gym routine. And…my work out today was eleven minutes. Eleven minutes!  It is really not worth the effort. I can’t even listen to my ipod while I’m there anymore because I won’t be able to hear them page me. I know she’s only 6 months old and that she is rather attached to her mommy…I’ve been raising her that way, afterall.  But come on….come oooooooon Bailey…can I just have my one hour a few times a week? Prettiest of pleases? 

I’ve tried to go when I know that she is well rested, well fed, and happy to no avail. I’ve sent along various toys, sippy cups, amusements… Nothing. She doesn’t take a pacifier (oh how I wish, at times, that she would take a pacifier!). She hates the swing/exersaucer/whathaveyou. She just crys. And they just page. Sigh. 

Not really looking for advice, because I think I know that it just is what it is. I’m just feeling particularly selfish. And whiney. And flabby. 

So there. 

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A definite up-don't

My litte brother got married on Saturday and I was one of the bridesmaids. I made myself a hair appointment, but last week the bride told me that her hair guy could do mine, too. Sounded like good future SIL bonding time, so I made the appointment with him.

I apologize for making generalizations, but when I walked in and saw that her hair dresser was a non-gay man in his 60′s, I should have known that things were not going to go so well.

I told the man that I would just like something sleek and smooth…to pull the front of it back, perhaps with some nice little twists or something. My hair is really short now, especially in the back, so I didn’t think he would/could even consider doing anything else… I should have just up and run out the door when he said, “You know, I think that hair updos are like puzzles. This is going to be a really tricky puzzle…lucky for you, I love puzzles!”


As he rambled on about how he used to know Johnny Cash and about the upcoming RV trip that he had planned, I just tried to zone out. I saw curling irons and rubber bands and millions of bobby pins flashing around and I had to keep my eyes closed to avoid the fog of hairspray. This was NOT looking good.

Suddenly, it was over and he was politely asking for his $55. He didn’t even show me what it looked like from the back. The front looked decent-ish, but was not at alllllll what I had in mind. But, we were racing the clock, the wedding was in 2 1/2 hours, and I just wanted to get out of there and back home to my babies so we could all head to the church.

I got home, went into my bathroom, and this is what I saw:

OK, not awful, but not at all what I had decribed that I wanted, either. I ventured further in so that I could see the back using my closet door mirror and……


Is that a donut? A waterspout???

I didn’t know whether I should laugh or cry….so I did both. What was I going to do? I was supposed to be at the church immediately to take pictures, but I just knew that I looked ridiculous. I tried to tell myself that this was not my day, I was not the bride, it would be selfish to worry about it….but on the other hand, I was mortified and just knew I’d feel like hiding behind my flowers if I went with that funky mess on my head. My husband thought I was nuts and just mumbled something about “looks like all the wedding hair that I’ve ever seen” and was just in a hurry to get out the door. (he was the videographer and needed to get set up) In a panic, I called Rebecca-Linh (who was the photographer!! ). She was already at the church and I asked her what to do. She said that no one was ready yet and to get my arse in the shower – stat!

I’ve never scrubbed so furiously and quickly before. Bobby pins were flying as I plunked Bailey down in her bouncy seat next the the tub. I felt like an absolute mad woman as I sang silly songs at the top of my lungs to keep her happy while I frantically tried to de-goop my poor abused head of hair.

I showered, dried, and fixed my hair in record time and actually made it to the church with time to spare. I am disappointed that I completely blew $65 (did I mention that I tipped $10? ) but at least I have a fun wedding story to tell.

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rebelinhAugust 24, 2008 - 2:42 am

i’m sitting here… totally giggling- to full blown laughing. it just doesn’t get old.
please. resend this photo to me randomly 25 years from now. i promise i will laugh (and even leave a frantic voicemail)

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