Denver Boudoir Photographer – Pants at my Ankles.

Yep, you read that right. That was how this day ended.

And not in the fun way either!

I debated writing about this because, well, it was a crazy day. And I don’t love sharing negative things, but now that the day is over, I can look back and laugh. Truly, I was laughing when it was happening too, because what the hell else can you do when the day keeps smacking you around with odd events?

2015 was a hard year. Not because horrific things happened, but because of health issues, and sleep deprivation. I now know why they use sleep deprivation as a torture method, because it is seriously horrible. So 2016 started – and I was like I’M GONNA ROCK THIS YEAR. I have things ready to be shared and am in the process of writing some new year things, but seriously, I was all over 2016 like white on rice. Like Richard Simmons on short shorts. Like Kim on Kanye. Like Kanye on himself.

IT WAS GOING TO BE AWESOME. And it still will be damnit, but God wanted me to get my crazy day out of the way at the beginning, right!?

It began when I woke up at 4am. Why, you ask? Because my daughter likes to get up at 4am and talk, cry, or do anything but sleep. So we were lying on the couch, trying to get some sleep, and I thought, hey, my boobs look pretty good right now, maybe I’ll take a sexy selfie. I can send it to Tom later, a nice cleavage shot, right? Because when the girls look good, it must be documented! WHO’S WITH ME LADIES?!

So I take a few sexy selfies. I didn’t really think much of it because sleep finally came, and my phone fell behind the pillow. I saw them when I woke up though.

Ladies, a word of advice, trust me on this one:

NEVER TAKE SEXY SELFIES WHEN YOU ARE NOT IN CONTROL OF ALL OF YOUR FACULTIES.

This includes drunk, or in my case, sleep deprived. What the hell was I thinking, it looks like two rolls are competing for room in the pan while baking. Delete, delete. The joys of phone selfies, right?

So the day continued. Because it was a day in my Denver boudoir studio, I was up early, getting everyone ready. I was all dressed, feeling good despite no sleep, and spilled my coffee down the front of me. All the way down to the panties. HOW does one even do this? I have no idea, I’m talented I guess. So I had to change. At least the baby is happy, laughing at my demise. My oldest looked at me like he wanted to laugh, but was afraid he would be in trouble. The baby has no notion of propriety yet, or mommy’s feelings, she laughs at whatever is funny. And coffee soaked panties are funny.

I get to the studio, my amazing clients are here, hooray! Except other pieces of the day’s puzzle are nowhere to be seen. I was getting really worried, because this isn’t normal. We waited around, and my clients are SO understanding and wonderful. I swear, I know I say it a lot, but as a Denver boudoir photographer, I get to work with some of the most awesome women in the nation. Seriously.

Scrambling to make everything work out, I accidentally took more of my medicine than I was supposed to. Don’t worry, not a medical emergency, but it means more than normal, so I’m SWEATING LIKE CRAZY. Seriously, I probably looked like a bad Miley Cyrus concert, it was bad. And for some reason, my pants kept nudging their way down my ass. These are new pants so we’re not well acquainted just yet, but I didn’t think I did anything worthy of them just getting pissed off and leaving me. So I kept pulling them up all day. Actually instead of Miley Cyrus, another image just came to mind:

Yep, pretty sure this how I looked. NOT normal for me, but had to get the crazy out for 2016. That’s what I keep telling myself. At least I don’t live in a van, down by the river.

My clients and my sessions were the highlight of my day, they were wonderful! We laughed and talked about boobs, kids, and shared inappropriate jokes. How is it that conversations with me always lean towards that direction? Because it’s FUN and awesome. ;)

I finished the sessions and packed up, ready to leave the studio. Frankie was with me in the studio, so when I was leaving I had my hands full, with Frankie on her leash.

We walked out to the car, got her a bathroom break, and walked around to the driver’s side, which is also the street side, right in front of my studio door. Which is right next to Downing, a very busy street. At rush hour. Somehow, while going down the stairs, my backpack had nudged the pants down even further, and at this point, while standing in the street, my pants were at my ankles. The light just HAPPENED to be red, and there was a VERY full bus of people staring at me. In my panties and sweater, trying to coax my dog into the car because she wouldn’t go.

At least now I can tell my husband THIS IS WHY I DON’T WEAR PANTS – and have another reason to add to the list.