After my first niece was born, I sort of became the family's defacto photographer. We were all obsessed with her and her cafe au lait cuteness and all the noises she made and the funny faces that often accompanied her having gas. Collectively, we must have taken 1000 photos of her in the first month, at least. Being the perfectionist that I am, I quickly became frustrated with my camera's ability to capture all of the cuteness I was trying to record for posterity.

If any of you have tried to photograph a small child with a standard point and shoot camera, you know how difficult it really is to get the shot you want. Not only are you attempting to shoot a moving target, so to speak, but the mechanisms in the camera just can't keep up with baby's fleeting smiles and silliness.

Finally, I caved and bought an SLR camera or, in layman's terms, a "fancy camera."

From that point on, I really developed a love for photography and, according to some, got pretty good at it. By the time my second niece was a toddler, I was booking photography jobs and teaching myself Photoshop in the process. It was around the same time that I started to realize what a pain in the neck weather was...or rather, how much it truly, passionately hated me.

You see, I do natural light photography, primarily. That means, my clients meet me outside and we use the sun, as opposed to a flash, for lighting...and that we spend a good bit of time walking and turning and sitting and standing to find the perfect light for our needs. It also means that, if the weather misbehaves, we can't take our pictures...and have to reschedule...and I don't get paid until later...and planned editing time gets bumped for said rescheduled session...and so then planned housework gets bumped to catch up on editing...and, so, dear readers, this is why I am often in danger of running out of gas and why my room is just never, ever clean. #thatsmystoryandimstickingtoit

So, today, as I checked the weather and saw "80% chance of rain" I thought: "Oh, weather, why do you hate me?" Because, clearly, it does. The only reason there is for rain on this day is because I have a shoot today and it likes to mess with me...obviously. I mean, we just had a ton of rain last weekend (which caused two reschedulings, by the way). It didn't have to rain today...except that the weather hates me.

It's not alone. There are several other things/people that hate me. For reals. Check it out...

1. White shirts: They attract salad dressing. #science And, wind up being equivalent of a sign on my back saying "needs a bib."
2. Bees: They chase me. I've been stung in the eye by them twice...on separate occasions.
3. Chair legs, moldings, or anything at toe-level: They just jump right out and smack my poor toes at any given opportunity. I swear, I stub my toes once or twice a week.
4. Ant piles: They, much like things at toe-level, migrate and spring up around my foot whenever I am nearby.
5. Estee Lauder: She puts something in her perfume that gives me an instant migraine, complete with nausea. #conspiracy
6. Turnstiles: Ti Ti got back...and they don't want it.
7. All chihauhuas everywhere: They bark insanely whenever I am within a 500-ft radius. Oh, wait, they do that to everyone? Ok.
8. Go-cup lids: They simply refuse to seal properly and always pour down my shirt (whether it is white or not) which winds up being the equivalent of a sign on my shirt that says "needs a sippy cup."
9. Chairs with arms.
10. Yawning: it always makes me look like I'm crying, which then leads to people asking "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" I then have to have an awkward convo where I try to explain that I was only yawning and really am ok, but I don't think they ever really believe me.
11. Math, in general, but especially anything involving theorems.
12. The State of Texas...but it's totally mutual, so it's fine.
13. Oh, and of course, point and shoot cameras.

With the exception of Texas, the hatred is totally undeserved.

White shirts are nice and the preferred shirt for family photos for some reason. Sure, it makes the family look like some sort of odd cult or scouting group, but...I mean, they're fine. I have no idea why they would hate me.

Bees are adorable and are the reason we have flowers and vegetables and fruits and honey. I love them. I love them so much, I used to spend hours catching them in jars. Oh...wait...I think I get why they hate me now.

I can't think of an "out" for chair legs, moldings and other things toe-level, though. I mean, it isn't my fault they are always in my way, causing me to slam into them with brooms or vacuums or luggage or free weights.

And, ok, fine, I used to poke at ant piles as a kid just to see them scurry. Fine. I get it. They must have ant lore that is told and retold to each generation warning of the girl who used to stick things in their homes and then stomp on them when they got to close in their attempt to escape the disaster.

But, Ms. Lauder, I cut you no slack. You have a dumb name and your perfume stinks, so much so it makes me physically ill. So...there. #stickstongueout

I do wish turnstiles liked me, though. It sure would make life easier. It would also be pretty cool if I could just jump right over them like people do in the movies. I think if I tried, though, I'd end up seeing that turnstiles hate me even more than I think they do...and then have to be rushed to the ER.

I've given up all hope of chihuahuas liking me, though. Our neighbor had one when I was a kid. Her name was "Baby." The dog hated me. No matter how often I tried to play with her or be nice to her or cuddle with her or smoosh her face and talk baby talk to her, she'd always just growl and snap and run away from me. It makes no sense. I'm delightful!

As for go-cup lids...jokes on you! I stopped drinking soft drinks or eating fast food. So...I win!

Chairs with arms, Yawning, Math and point and shoot cameras...you're dead to me. #ripsblouse #OTstyle

Next time, we'll discuss the cat that wanted me dead. You won't want to miss it.