Dear Photographic Diary, ie person of the invisible, also known as the general public:

I have always had trouble writing to mass amounts of people (mass emails, blogs, ect) so, I decided I would write to my Photographic Diary. I hope you don’t think that’s too weird. : )
Lately, I’ve had a lot of wedding bookings. It’s a great thing—and we are very happy about it, but I have also been reflecting a lot on past weddings and experiences. Like the first professional booking I ever made. It went a lot like this…
“Uh, Randy (husband)…my tire is flat.”
“No problem, I’ll change it…uh, it’s rusted out.”
“I have to be at the consultation in thirty minutes, how long will this take?”
“Better call and explain. You will be late.”
The call went like this (in my trembling trying-to-be-ultra-professional voice), “Hey Mick, it’s Rachel…I am going to be late, my tire is flat and…” I reached for my head, on that bright sunny day because I had suddenly felt something guishy and wet slam into my freshly brushed hair. Randy started laughing hysterically. A bird had flown by…and randomly pooped on my head. I am NOT kidding. Or lying, or exaggerating. I wish I was.
“Uh, Mick…make that an hour….a bird just crapped on my head…”
”Oh, sounds like you’re having a good time over there…” (Probably because he heard Randy laughing)
“No, Mick, I’m not really having a good time…a bird just crapped on me. I look forward to meeting you…in an hour. I have to wash my hair.”

I did book the wedding, but I’m not sure if it was divinely perfect--and I definitely hoped it wasn’t an omen for things to come. Luckily, things have gotten better since than—or I just started making my phone calls indoors. At the very least, it was a real sign that being overly-professional just didn’t work for me. Too bad it took me another year to realize it!
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