Suzy Says

You’d think I was still in Hooterville, getting up at 6 am for an 11 am photo shoot. But I had my reasons.

I am slow to get going at the best of times, and on this particular morning, I had to make Self look more presentable than usual, since the main purpose of the trip to San Francisco was to get professional photos taken of Boss and Self for our in-progress website. After putting on make-up and once again being thankful for learning how to do this quickly and well from makeup artists back in A’s modeling days, I called a cab and went out to meet it around 7:30.

The cab appeared sooner than I expected, and I was off to Drybar to get a blowout. I’m not that great at doing my hair, so I followed Megan’s advice and let the professionals do it. I figured, if I have to live with this picture for posterity – or at least the next few years – I should look as good as possible.

Drybar was delightful. I was immediately provided with cucumber water and taken care of by a fabulous gay guy, of which there is a total shortage in Hooterville. No-one can make a girl feel prettier – and in this case, look prettier, too – than a fabulous gay guy. I sat at a long white bar accessorized with dishes of candy and a flat screen TV playing “Dirty Dancing” (Jennifer Grey with her original nose! The ever-gnomish Patrick Swayze! Kelly Bishop before she was Emily Gilmore!) with captioning on, so you could follow the movie over the whir of hairdryers.

My stylist even hailed a cab and opened and closed the door for me, which I love. Talk about full service! My shiny hair and I made our way to BART. As I walked onto the platform, the train I needed was whooshing into the station, saving me a 15 minute wait. As I settled into my seat, I texted Boss to tell him my ETA. iPhones can be useful.

I knew I had an hour long train ride ahead of me, so I was equipped with a book, but when it went above ground, I looked out of the window from time to time. I have been away from Civilization for so long that burned out, graffitied buildings and swooping cloverleafs of highways and herds of cars and acres of cement are as foreign to me as the moon now.

Boss picked me up at the BART station and we drove to the photographer’s studio. She is Boss’s neighbor and a total sweetheart. She has been taking pictures since she was a child, and you could tell she really knew her stuff. Although I have known Boss for nearly 20 years, it was a total revelation to me when he told the photographer that his father was one of the very first medical photographers.

I don’t photograph well, in my opinion. I’m not saying that in the hopes of being contradicted. There have literally been two pictures ever taken of me that I liked: one when I was 3:

and one when I was 40:

This is not a good average. I hope these will turn out well, since as I mentioned earlier, they will be there for posterity, or at least the next few years, which may well be the same thing in internet terms.

As we left the studio, it occurred to me that this may well be the first time I have ever had a professional portrait taken. My parents may have done one when we were kids, but I don’t remember it, and I didn’t have professional photos of my wedding, graduation, or anything like that. Maybe having a professional is the secret to a good photo?

After our photo session, Boss and I went to lunch, and then stopped by to see his lovely wife at the hotel she manages. It was so great to catch up with them and spend some time together. We hugged goodbye at the BART station, and as I rode the train back to San Francisco, I thought how lucky I am to have a boss who is also my friend. I’m hoping this year will be kinder to us.