{Originally published on Diet Coke-Fueled Life.}

I was going to write about working and respecting bosses. About how sometimes they make decisions you don’t agree with, but you suck it up and play the game. About how you don’t send nasty emails to someone who’s overseeing a project you’ve been invited to work on, especially when you’re in the wrong, and the project manager is awesome (me).

That lead to the only time I’ve not sucked it up. The time I stopped playing the game and stood up for something.

In July 2002, a co-worker, Ally Zapp, left her job at US SAILING to pursue other opportunities. Two days later, she was murdered. I was the PR person at the time, so I had the horrible job of fielding reporters’ questions while in full-metal shock along with everyone else. Although a national organization with international ties, only a couple dozen people worked in our offices, so we all knew each other well. We all loved Ally; she was so darned nice. One of those people you couldn’t possibly be mad at for anything. One of those people who made a difference. I wished I could be even a tiny bit like her.

Rather than showing our love and support for her and her family on July 18, our organization offered up a platitude along the lines of wishing her family the best in a difficult time. Local media. National media. That was all I was allowed to say. And I kept saying it, apologizing at the same time for not being able to offer more. I was worried about my job.

Finally, an AP reporter I’d already spoken to half a dozen times told me a rumor was circulating around the media outlets that we weren’t saying anything more because she had done something wrong at her position–that’s why she left the job, that’s why our lips were sealed.

I put him on hold. I got up, shut my door, returned to the caller. I told him if I said something on the record, I’d lose my job. As a mom and a wife whose husband rarely worked, losing my job would have meant losing a lot more.

When I knew Ally, I was in a new and already unhappy marriage. I had a handful of good, close friends he bad-mouthed every chance he got, pulling me away from them, and away from my close-knit family. He and my son didn’t get along. On top of that, US SAILING was going through a major upper-echelon overhaul, causing mounds of unhappiness and stress. And my best friend was moving two states away. I was in a bad, bad place all around.

{Originally published on Natty’s Spanking Blog.}

My senior year of college I was invited to be part of a national student delegation to the country of Kuwait. A week or so before I received that invitation, I found out I had been accepted to graduate school at Georgetown University with a full tuition scholarship. As our delegation was meeting in Washington DC for a week of briefings before heading to Kuwait, I went a few days earlier to visit the place I assumed I would be spending the next several years of my life.

The waiting room for my graduate program was lined with cherrywood paneling and upholstered in arabesque print. I remember worrying that my wet, squishy tennis shoes would somehow dirty the place after walking in from the April rain. I stayed the night with a recent alum from my hole-in-the-wall state university, but the next day headed to a posh DC hotel where we student delegates were to stay during the Washington leg of our journey.

It was the first time I’d ever hailed a cab. And I was surprised when a guy in a uniform picked up my suitcase as I checked in. I’d never been to a hotel with a bell hop before. The nicest place I’d ever stayed before that was at a Red Lion with a bunch of girls from my church youth group when we attended a winter youth festival. The bell hop led me to the room, opened the door, set my luggage on a rack, opened the curtains, and then stood at the door awkwardly for a few seconds. Was I supposed to tip him? Or was that just something they did on television but not in real life? The bell hop had mercy on me and left quickly. I felt terribly out of place in this new, fancy world I’d found myself in. And I tell you the truth, dear reader, I broke out into tears as I sat on the immaculate bed.

That is how I feel when I read most erotica.

{Originally Published on Definition Images-Utah Boudoir Photography}

In just about any wedding publication you are bound to run across the article titled “How to Pick Your Wedding Photographer”. They contain important information and can help you avoid choosing someone with little experience or professionalism. Boudoir photography is gaining a lot of popularity and you should look for the same thing when picking a photographer to take you personal photos. Here is my list of the 5 most important things a boudoir photographer should have/do/be:

1. Someone you can trust: While many male photographers do fabulous work, I still think it’s important to have a female photographer. She will understand that you, like all women, will have insecurities and will help you not only look your best but FEEL your best too. Regardless of what gender your photographer is make sure you are comfortable with them. Trust is very important in boudoir photography.

2. Posing Experience: Make sure your boudoir photographer has done this sort of work before. It is so much different than any other type of portraiture out there. Special skills, training, and education are necessary. Posing is critical to how you look, the camera only adds pounds if you are posed incorrectly. A good photographer will know how to bring out your best features and make you look your sexiest.

3. Lighting Experience: Studio lights are a must!!! I can’t stress this enough. Window light can only do so much. Your photographer may be able to work with natural light but they will be limited. Different looks, poses, body types, and moods all call for different lighting. Make sure your boudoir photographer is well educated about lighting. Anyone can run out and drop a few grand on studio lights, but that doesn’t mean they can use them effectively. Glamour lighting is the key to gorgeous images.

4. Photo Editing Experience: Editing images is an art! There are powerful editing tools out there than can do amazing things. Make sure your photographer knows how to use this technology. You don’t want raw unedited images. Boudoir photography is all about looking your best and subtle editing will aid in that. On the flip side you don’t want someone that edits with a heavy hand. You don’t want to look plastic and fake. Obvious photo editing is the absolute worst kind!!!

{Originally published at To Thither and Whither}