I spent an entire weekend being followed around by the most adorable photographer. Paparazzi.
I was at my nephew’s Bar Mitzvah and Brad was hired to document the whole thing. I had never met him before but loved him right away. My family is what you might call strong-willed. And, I have even been called stubborn. But, Brad was such a pro. We trusted him implicitly and listened to him when he told us stand, where to look, and how to smile.
He also loved my tattoo so obviously he was ok by me. My family, on the other hand, is not so in love with it. Bygones.
At some point on Saturday, Brad informed me he had an entire album’s worth of pictures of me making weird faces. Sounds about right. I don’t know why, but anyone who has ever taken a picture of me can say the same thing. I either don’t know where to look, am making a strange mid-sentence face, or have my eyes closed. He also said, “I have been doing this for a long time and you are my favorite kind of person to have at one of these things. You make the event fun.”
It is such a fun experience to be around someone who sees you in a way that is different than the way you think of yourself. So…I was still on that high when the Saturday night dance party started…
And, I spent the entire evening on the dance floor. The dance floor was full of people either thirty years older or younger than me. I did not stop moving for ten minutes the whole night. Every song. Every silly hat and glow necklace. Hot pink socks with the word LOVE written on them. Sweating…shiny face with my hair in a ponytail. Jumping up and down. Cameras and iPhones all over the place. I did not care. I am a terrible dancer. I did not care. I am 112% sure Brad tripled the number of pictures of me contorting my face in ways in all sorts of unflattering configurations. I don’t care; I had a blast.
I danced like no one was looking, but the truth is people are always looking. Maybe they laugh at you, but just maybe the night ends with the DJ’s hugging you and thanking you for all the dancing. And Brad…well, Brad told me I had to come hang out with his wife and take her dancing!