Kyle Hepp

February 27, 2009

S. said to me the other day, “Wow. You’ve changed a lot.”

At first I though he meant that I had turned into a cranky old biddy or something and we were about to have that retardedly stereotypical fight where the husband tells the wife she’s not the same anymore and the wife tells the husband that he’s not romantic anymore, and it all ends in smoke and tears.

But he meant that I looked different than I did when we first started dating. His exact quote to explain himself was, “I mean, look at my face. I’ve had the same face since I was 12. You haven’t.” Which is true. In part, I’m sure, because of my weight loss, I definitely look a lot different than I did back in the day.

The whole thing had me searching through old photos taking a trip down memory lane. My options are limited though since most of my old pics are on film and I don’t have them on my computer. Here’s what I found.

Life started out pretty well. I was a cute baby with a really hot mom:

And my dad may have been rocking the porn ’stache, but he was still a pretty handsome guy.

We liked to fish…

We lived on a lake. Everything was good…

…until my mom gave me a mullet and bangs.

And then a curly bowl cut.

A few years later I started getting a little chubbier than most of the other kids my age.

Fortunately, I was still too young to care.

I was good at sports even though I was “big boned,” or “super muscular” or whatever form of the word BIG people chose to use for me.

When I went to Chile, people always commented on my weight, because well, people here are really rude about that sort of thing. I still wasn’t phased. I was blond and that was enough for all the guys in my class here to want to kiss me.

By the time I was a sophomore in high school I was much fatter than my mom and my weight sort of bothered me.

But, I really never felt bad about myself.

I’ve always had a huge ego. Nothing can bring me down, not even stomach rolls and thunder thighs.

UGH. Band camp = LOVE. You can call me a nerd all you want but I have some of the most fun memories.

I gained even more weight in college. And as you can see, I had super curly hair up until recently. It always looked like this unless I straightened it.

And then I started running like a maniac on the track every night. Losing weight completely changed my identity and I started feeling like a bad ass. I dyed my hair red, got my nose and belly button pierced, and got a tattoo.

But even though I was hot I still never had sex with anyone.

Oddly enough, around the time I started having sex with S. my hair started getting straighter. I’m not saying this to give you TMI. I just think there’s some kind of hormonal connection there.

I maintained my 50 pound weight loss until I got married and then I lost 10 more pounds just for the heck of it. This is me on the week of my wedding when I weighed about 125 lbs, my lowest adult weight ever.

Since all my super hot besties were coming to the wedding I had to look good!

Now here’s me. I weigh 132, but ever since I got married my face just keeps getting more and more angular, no matter what I weigh, and my hair keeps getting straighter. When I look in the mirror sometimes I can’t even recognize the person who stares back.

S. is right. I have changed a lot.

23 Comments

February 25, 2009

I did a survey on this blog a few months ago. Ok, actually it was more than six months ago. And I promised to do some Photoshop tutorials for those of you who asked for photography tips. In August, I wrote that starting next week I would do a weekly tutorial. Oops!

But, better late than never! The first tutorial on better, brighter, more vivid color for your pictures by editing in Lab Mode in Photoshop is up at my Kyle Hepp Photography blog. If you’re not into photography this probably isn’t interesting to you at all. But if you are into photography and photo editing, will you let me know if the tutorial helped you in any way shape or form? I’m a little nervous about posting it as I’m not much of a Photoshop guru and I also don’t know that I’m very good at explaining technical photography information. But hopefully this helps someone out there!

4 Comments

February 24, 2009

I apologized to my doorman and it really wasn’t a big deal at all. As soon as I said, “I’m sorry,” the very second that those two powerful little words crossed my lips, a smile lit up his face and we were BFF’s again.

In the end, I decided that most of you were right. This is Chile. I’m the only person in the country who normally doesn’t break rules all the time. I don’t litter. I don’t chuck my trash out the window onto the street below. I don’t even cross the fucking yellow line on the metro and I ALWAYS dejar bajar antes de subir. I follow the rules. I’m a good girl.

Which means, I always say I’m sorry, even if I’m not 100% in the wrong.

I wavered back and forth on this after reading all of your responses. Yes, it’s true. I’m easily swayed by blog readers, many of whom I don’t even know in real life. But y’all are good people. You’re putting Marcelo through college with me. I don’t doubt your morals.

In the end, I decided that the situation really didn’t require any baking or gift buying on my part. And I stopped feeling so damn guilty that an apology would have been nothing more than just an unburdening of my conscious. What I did realize is that really Don Jose just wants validation that his job matters. That’s why he tried to enforce the rules. I get that. We all want to feel like the work we do is important.

So I apologized. I didn’t even have to explain myself or anything, and immediately all was forgiven. I believe his exact words were, “I understand, it was your birthday, she’s your best friend and yeah. You had drank a LOT.”

Saying those words almost always makes me feel better even when nothing is my fault. For instance, if S. and I are bickering, I used to have a huge problem swallowing my pride long enough to apologize. But, now I realize I’d rather not waste time having people in this world have anger towards me, even for a misunderstanding. So I say, “I’m sorry I’m angry with you right now, this is silly. Let’s not fight.” And that line works with virtually anyone. You don’t have to be sorry for whatever the other person thinks you did — just sorry enough that the other person is unhappy that you’re willing to put your pride aside and say those two little words.

I wasn’t sorry that I brought Papito downstairs with me to my birthday party. In fact, I’d do it again in a heartbeat even if I didn’t know whether or not Don Jose would eventually forgive me. But, I was sorry for making Don Jose feel like his job was unimportant enough to me that I would just pasar sus reglas por la raja (loosely translated, shove his rules up my ass, I can’t think of a good translation right now, sorry). So, Papito sat on my lap at my birthday party, and then Don Jose forgave. Yes, all is right in the world again.

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February 23, 2009

You know how Saturday I had a birthday party and yesterday I was really happy about how it all went down?

Well, apparently the champagne blocked one important event out of my mind…I made a serious enemy out of my doorman! I mean, I just saw him today for the first time since then…if looks could kill, I’m telling you I would have dropped dead on the spot. The man stared me down hardcore.

See, in my building there are general rules, and one of them says you’re not allowed to have a dog down by the pool area. But, a couple other times I’ve brought Papito down and asked whoever the doorman on duty is, if it’s alright, and they’ve always said yes as long as she’s with me and not running around. And then I bring her down and she sits on my lap and all is right in the world.

For my birthday party, Emily brought over Lola and we asked if the dogs could play together outside since my friends were the only ones down by the pool. There were no other tenants to bother or anything. My doorman, Don Jose, said yes. They came out, they didn’t hurt anything, they didn’t make a single noise because neither Lola or Papito really bark. 10 minutes later Don Jose came out and said that someone had complained and we had to take the dogs back upstairs. He was so lying about someone having complained. I’m actually pretty sure of that, I think he just wanted to cover his own ass but not come across as the bad guy.

We abided. Until I had too much champagne and decided that it was my birthday and I was going to do what I wanted to do regardless.

I’m normally not a rule breaker at all. Ask anybody, I have an absurdly guilty conscious. So I’m not sure why I did what I did.

At this point Rodolfo had went home with Lola, but I went upstairs and got Papito. I came down with her in my arms and told Don Jose, “She’s all I have in Chile, she’s my best friend and it’s my birthday and I need her with me. I know you have to fine me for breaking the rules, but it’s worth it to me, I want her with me.” I was very drunk and definitely crying at this point. I’m pretty sure he didn’t say anything, just shook his head very sadly as I walked on by defiantly carrying my puppy. Oh, the drama.

So now I need to apologize. I know I was wrong and I behaved like a brat. But, I’m SO SCARED!!!!!!!! I am terrified to try and talk to him. Don Jose shot me daggers today with his eyes. I can feel the hatred radiating from the little old man and he has every right to be mad. So maybe I’ll just never leave my apartment again while Don Jose is on duty…too bad he works from 1pm to 10pm every day of the week but Sunday. Looks like I’ll be spending a lot of time in the loft from here on out, unless I get the courage to man up and say I’m sorry.

16 Comments

February 22, 2009

Sometimes having a birthday party in a foreign country can be hard. I remember one year I was here and we celebrated me turning 22 at S.’s families beach house. Some of his friends came over to do a barbecue with us and drink. S.’s mean friend wouldn’t let me listen to country music and then sat everyone down to play a drinking game I didn’t know how to play…and he wouldn’t stop to explain the rules to me.

That year was just a reminder of how far away from home I was, and I went to bed crying.

This year, however, having a birthday in Chile felt like a happy thing. I spent it with girlfriends, sipping champagne by the pool in our bikinis.

Caira, Katina, Z’leste, Emily and Renee (who arrived shortly after this photo was taken) all came over to celebrate with me.

In this moment I was not far away from home. I was home.

Thank you to all the people who wished me happy birthday, in person, via Twitter, via Facebook or via blog. You made my 25th so happy!

And because completed a quarter of a century of life has made me all introspective, here’s a quote from Benjamin Button that I hope I always live by.

For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.

This post was approved by a post-bath, very fuzzy Papito:

All photos taken with our Canon point and shoot camera.

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