Hi, I’m Andrea!
Alright so you wanna get to know me a bit before signing up to spend some time together, I get it.
Here’s a carefully-crafted list of some of my most winning qualities:
First, no I cannot be trusted alone in a tiny beautiful red theatre.
Second, yes it was me who ate a piece of the bride & groom’s special pistachio cake at Stef & Jason’s wedding. In my defense, it wasn’t well-marked. And it *was* delicious.
When I’m shooting I get so into it that I’ve occasionally stepped off curbs and eaten shit. Expect me to ask you to swear a pact of protection: if I start backing into traffic, promise to grab me or yell our safe word (it’s CORNDOG).
Birds have shat on my head a total of 3 times. Most recently it was while eating a donut (me, not the bird), no more than an hour after having a Texas blowout. *A Texas blowout is when you’re visiting Texas and you pay someone $80 to wash and blowdry your hair).
If we are eating out in public and there is sauce available, I WILL embarrass you with my sauce consumption. I fucking LOVE SAUCE. Ketchup, bbq, ranch, salsa, mole, chocolate, hot sauce, ALL SAUCE.
I love swear words and use them liberally. But never in anger, always for color and emphasis. Okay once in anger (ask me about my Indian Buffet / Mexican Hostess boondoggle. A dark moment and also a proud moment).
There is a holiday sweater in my family that has never once been washed. My mom got it in 1988 and someone wears it at least once every year (that someone is me).
My dad calls me Squeezers because I used to make a sqeezy sound when I was concentrating hard.
Confession, I still make the squeezy sound.
I went to Iceland in January to see the Northern lights so I could cross it off my bucket list. Four hours out of Seatac I saw them from the airplane window. I cried my eyes out at the beauty and invited my German seatmates to lay their heads in my lap so they could see too. Then I promptly decided that it didn’t count and that I need to see the Northern lights outdoors, laying on my back on the ground (redo!).
Also on my bucket list: Wear-a-gold-sequinned-gown-while-smoking-a-cigarette-on-a-Cruella-Deville-style-stick-and-drinking-a-martini-and-rolling-some-dice-what’s-the-name-of-the-game-with-the-dice-at-a-glamorous-casino. (Notice that the outfit and accessories come first, the location and activity come second? #priorities)
If you live in my building I will immediately learn your dog’s name but I cannot be counted on to remember yours (but don’t worry, I’m not shy and will ask you several times).
UPDATE: A bird shat on me yesterday. But not my head this time, just my arm, my journal, and my (borrowed) book. I’m beginning to think crows are my spirit animal. But I’ll say raven instead of crow because it sounds fancier.
I could go on (and I will at your shoot) but for now, I’ll leave you with this: As a reward for making it this far and to end on a high note, behold, my middle school yearbook pics. My mom says I’m getting better with age...
Now that you trust me (or at the very least, have blackmail material)