The working title of this post was "I must be out of my damn mind." It briefly changed to "Holy Fucking Shit! I Fucking Did What?!" but STY has a problem with damn curse words in the titles. You had better read this post fast before I come to my senses and delete it.
I don't do New Year's Resolutions, but this year I did decide to step outside my comfort zone more. This shouldn't be hard as my comfort zone is sitting alone on my couch with a feed bag of Skittles. Something else I don't do is celebrate Valentine's Day. Or Mother's Day. Or my birthday. Or, well you get the picture. Mr. TK & I decided to celebrate birthdays and Valentine's Day this year. (I still rebuke you, Mother's Day.) Somewhere around October 2010 I decided to throw some napalm on my comfort zone and combine that with a Valentine's Day present. I decided to do a top secret racy photo shoot for Mr. TK. And blog about it. I must be out of my damn mind.
I immediately realized I needed a list to pull this off. I'm a list maker. Lists make me feel warm and safe at night. I made a list of all the things I'd need to do before the photo shoot. Top of the list was stepping up my exercise regime so I'm in top-notch shape. Have I mentioned my penchant for procrastination?
I started keeping a sort of journal for this event. You'll find the entries below.
Late October: Resolved to take naked or mostly naked pics and start trolling the internet obsessively for new lingerie. Who wants to take pics in the old stuff?
November 15: Overwhelmed with lingerie choices. Still not exercising with the regularity I promised myself.
Roughly mid-November: Texted @OhFefe and asked her if she wanted to get naked and take some pictures with me. Her immediate response: "Sure!" I love her.
November 26: Realized that OMG I FORGOT TO MAKE THE APPOINTMENT WITH THE PHOTOGRAPHER! How I don't die under the weight of my own stupidity, I'll never know.
November 27: Made the appointment with
Ali Parker Photography for a photo shoot on January 15th.
December 2: Holy shit, why am I not working out every day?!
December 15: Narrowed down lingerie choices from 347,987,685 options to the top 10. Enlisted the help of Anntastic from
Twi-fecta. [Here's where I have to say, none of this would have ever happened without Anne's help. She is a gem.]
December 20: Tried to order the top 3 lingerie choices from
Trashy Lingerie. Did you know they custom make ALL their lingerie? I didn't. Six or more weeks for delivery. I had less than four. Motherfucker.
December 23: Why am I still not exercising every day? Tried to order lingerie choices 4-6 from
La Perla. They didn't have my size in stock. FML.
December 28: Made a hair appointment and actually checked one item off the list.
December 29: Realized I don't have a local salon for waxing. Started researching this. The average price here is $35. WTF? I certainly wouldn't de-pelt a person for only $35. Started asking random strangers if they get waxed, how much they pay and if these places are going to burn off my snatch. I need my snatch. I use it every day.
December 30: Stared at my ass in the mirror for a full 20 minutes. It was higher and tighter the last time I looked at it. I guess the last time I examined it I was 25. Whatever.
December 31: Gave up on trying to order lingerie from anywhere in the continental U.S. Found several things on a British site. Threw them in the virtual shopping cart. Did the currency conversion. Almost passed out. Proceeded to checkout. An alert popped up that fastest estimated shipping time is more than 2 weeks. Aaahhhhh! It's almost 2011! Are they shipping it on the fucking Mayflower? FML.
January 1-2: Purchased at least 15 backup lingerie pieces. I hate them all.
January 6: Took mostly naked pictures of myself in the aforementioned hated lingerie & sent them to nearly every person in my contacts list for their opinions. I pretty much looked like sex on a stick standing in my poorly lit bathroom, not having showered and laundry hanging in the background.
January 7: Made my waxing appointment. My schedule being what it is, I will have to squeeze this in during lunch and go back to work. FML.
January 8: Booked a hotel room. Mr. TK asked why I'm acting funny. He intimated that he thinks I'm having an affair.
New lingerie: $300
Waxing: $50
Hotel room: $100
The demise of my marriage: Priceless
January 15: OMFG TODAY IS THE DAY! I almost puked at least 3 times in the morning. The amount of subterfuge it took to get out of the house with 2 giant bags full of lingerie, shoes, and beauty products was unreal. Arrived at the hotel. It kicked ass. I will not name the hotel because there were allegedly some damages that said hotel never noticed. Both Fefe & I tried to fix a crooked painting and knocked it off the wall. On 2 separate occasions. Oops. It's also possible a lamp was broken. I can neither confirm nor deny.
The hotel room...before we went all Charlie Sheen on its ass. Also, the room is not crooked. I suck at photography.
Our make-shift bar. What's that in front of the Goose?
That's right. A Forks shot glass, baby. You were all there with me in spirit. I hope you averted your eyes.
Hair and makeup were done in record time. I barely had time to throw back 2 shots of Grey Goose before my semi-naked ass was on that bed. Ali was amazing. A-MA-ZING. I can't imagine doing this with anyone else. I am the most awkward and un-photogenic person on the planet. I hate having my picture taken. I was the "Photo Not Available" girl throughout my school years. Ali made me so comfortable instantly. We went from introductions and an exchange of pleasantries to me walking around in panties and a smile an hour later. She lives in Oklahoma, but I would recommend her to anyone and everyone. You need to fly her and her magic camera to your neighborhood if you even contemplate taking these kinds of photos. Seriously, her camera is magic.
Fefe and I had the best time. If I ever visit that hotel again, I will have to check in under an alias. Aside from the aforementioned alleged damages, the trash cans were full of fake eyelash and hosiery packaging, lingerie price tags, a sushi container (a story for another time) and broken lamp parts. We are rock stars.
Fefe and me showing what rock stars we are. I'm always on top. Always.
After the shoot, we went to a burger joint and wolfed down some greasy deliciousness. With our hair and makeup still done, I'm sure people thought we were strippers who knocked off early for the night. Whatever. I brought Mr. TK home a bag of food, shoved it in his face and kept my head covered as I ran in the door and straight to the bathroom. How I'm still married after being gone all day to an undisclosed location, coming home with an overnight bag, stripper makeup and sex hair, I'll never know. Mr. TK was just pissed that it was so easy to distract him with food.
Against my better judgment, I'm posting the least risque shots below. Only Mr. TK (and a handful of other people) will ever get to see the rest. Unless I lose my phone. Then I'm fucked.
This mattress was like quicksand. Next time we do this (and there will be a next time), I'm bringing a long stick so Fefe can rescue my ass from the sinking bed.
The roots of my hair look really good here.
I think I had to hold this pose for an hour. Or 2 minutes. Whichever. My abs were on fire.
I refuse to be seen in anything other than black and white and soft lighting going forward.
Yep, that window was open the whole time because we needed the light. The other hotel patrons got a little extra bang for their buck.
There's really no way to not have an awkward transition here. I'm just going to hide now while you all make dart boards out of my ass.