Some people just ooze coolness.

Yesterday I had the privileged delight of shooting one very photogenic and wildly intellectual family, friends of mine for over a decade. They claim to be nothing special, though everyone knows you don't go up against a Lewis when death is on the line. They're world travelers, independants, and activists...a mix of sociable, passionate debate-lovers, and quiet thinkers who are content to keep their brilliance relatively covert...all are wicked smart despite what they may tell you...college professors, mathematicians, and artists, the lot of them. We sat in a coffee shop for almost four hours talking. Sharing. Arguing. But mostly laughing. And as I drove away, it took me a minute to realize how SIMILAR this family is to my own. The comfort of sitting around for hours in one another's presence is vastly underrated and rarely understood, but they get it. It's a hard dynamic to rival, given the loyalties I was born into. Until yesterday I'd quite honestly never met another family who enjoyed one another as much as my own. Except instead of playing cards and calling names, they read history textbooks and debate the most efficient way to evangelize Saudi Arabia.

The matriarch of said family, claims to be the non-confrontational wallflower. The one who can't/won't stand up for herself in an argument because she says she's not quick or smart enough. This is the same woman who, when she got bored, enrolled in a Statistics course. Just for kicks.

This family, their brains are far too big for their own good.

And yet they can sit in a coffee shop for an entire afternoon talking about people and events and politics, and when the one doing their crossword in the corner pipes up with A FALAFEL HOLDER?, stop what they're doing and think, before one shouts PITA!

Spending the afternoon with them, only furthered my firm belief that family, in all their unique and sometimes impossible glory, is a deal-breaker. I'm given the occasional eyeroll from those who don't understand how I could possibly want to spend as much time with my family as I do. (Uhh...because they're awesome?) One day I turned to my sister and said IS IT OUT OF THE ORDINARY THAT WE'RE TOGETHER AS MUCH AS WE ARE? and she wasted no time in saying OH YES, WE AREN'T NORMAL.

I'm allowed to lean on them, use them for defense, and hold bi-weekly drinking parties (regardless of any specific sorrows in need of a good solid drowning). Everyone jokes about the family dynamic when it comes to those who marry in, but underneath the banter is the uncontrollable truth which is: either you fit, or you don't. If the former, embrace it. If the latter, we can't help you.

While one such BF of mine could claim many virtues, likeability among outside parties was not high on the list. He dealt with a lot of problems, the biggest of which was named Molly. 

After long it becomes apparent that most think family was/is one of two things: 1) an unaffordable luxury, or 2) competition for one's affections. I've seen both ends of the broad spectrum: those who fit, and those who really don't. Everyone says when you marry a person, you marry their family. Mom has three criterion for any interested parties: 1) Do you love Jesus? 2) Do you love my kid? 3) Do you love my family?

Simple, right. You have no idea.

However, and this is the depressing portion of our program, it's also true that when you break up with a person, you break up with their family. One guy exercised a healthy dose of inconsiderate ignorance when he made his exit, landing himself on a few #%$& lists, then continued to act like everything was fine. I enlightened him to the fact that his reputation was in the toilet, said DUDE, YOU MESSED WITH THE SPOKANE KENNEDY'S and I'm pretty sure he didn't think that was funny. (In fact, I know he didn't think that was funny. He told me so.)

All that to say: when you disregard one, you disregard them all.

Why Big Families Are So Awesome, Reason #278: No-Questions-Asked Loyalty.

Partiality and bias aside, I'm thankful this family is on my side. They're the first to stand up, slap the dirt off, heave a collective LIVE AND LEARN and keep walking. And though you can know it for a long time, you're then reminded that while it may be hard to find one you like, and even harder to find one who not only likes you but also likes ALL the rest, it's harder still to first find, then obtain, one whom the collective unit approves of. 

I know three people who can claim the title. And they had no idea what they were getting themselves into. Apparently they've decided if you can't beat em, join em.

Day of Thanks + the Weekend the Stillars showed Portland our groove thang.

This Thanksgiving we geared up for Luke & Erica's wedding in beautiful Portland. E had the brilliantly brave idea to get the families together for the holiday, prior to the big weekend. We road-tripped in two cars, I got stuck with the boys. This is where I realized I'm quite the backseat driver. It started with telling Dad to change lanes or risk missing his exit, to which he said OH REALLY? MADE THIS MISTAKE BEFORE, HAVE YOU? (Well, maybe. Good times.) Dad doesn't take direction very well, especially if it's blow-by-blow, so navigating to our hotel was an experience to behold.

Turkey dinner at Erica's house, prepared by our awesome new brother-in-law(-in-law?) Matt...we ate, drank, and played games for hours. I'll admit to being a bit apprehensive that our size and sheer volume would be cause for overwhelm but nobody seemed fazed. Or maybe I just wasn't paying attention.

Friday dawned sunny and bright... Mom and I jumped drove across the river for a morning with the girls... once again, I'd been appointed navigator so I began reciting the directions word-for-word and Mom finally said I JUST NEED TO KNOW THE BIG THINGS, LIKE "TURN HERE" AND STUFF so I waited a few seconds then said OK TURN HERE! except it was really like, a mile too early... she swerved.

As I was saying. We met up with the bride and her party for mani/pedis and some mimosas. (You will see this theme repeated many times throughout our week. Read on.) Later that afternoon we showed up to the University Chapel for rehearsal, to find the heat turned off... minor setback. Coocum found herself walked down the aisle by a very tall, cute boy and from that point on called him her boyfriend. (He thought that was funny until he realized she's an awfully slow mover and then it was our turn to laugh.) Dinner was served at 6:00p, to a crowd comprised of bridal party, family and out-of-towners... when I offered dessert, the aforementioned tall & cute boy said IS THERE TIRAMISU? and I asked if he'd brought any, to which he said no, and I was all THEN NO. Apparently after that he thought I was mean. (Doesn't bother me. I only turn on the feminine wiles when I really want something. Boys who ask for tiramisu would not fall into that category.)

Dad stood up for the obligatory thank-you, and totally threw Luke under the bus. It's a rare moment to find Luke genuinely embarrassed, but the rehearsal dinner is the best venue, is it not? They'd prepared a video showing how the proposal took place, etc. and I'm pretty sure at one point the family was called "a pack of cannibals". (Oh well. At least by then everyone had met us and knew somewhat different. We hope.)

The siblings convened after, for a late-night showing of New Moon. I've never read the books, heck I hadn't even seen the first movie until two days prior, and that was only because I didn't want to be that girl who keeps asking questions because she's just sooo lost. So we're sitting in the theater watching this movie, and at one point the girl hits her head and starts bleeding, so what does the guy do? Whips off his shirt. I decided the next time I get a paper cut I'm going to turn to the nearest guy and say WHY IS YOUR SHIRT STILL ON?

Wedding day dawned bright and relatively clear. Kyle wrestled with his bow tie while I sat down to write his best man speech. (He says he didn't know what to say. So I gave him cue cards and he ended up ad libbing his way through - I was very proud.) Molly, Isaac, Auntie Pretty and I met up for a pre-funk at Stanfords, and after two rounds of drinks we'd loosened up enough to get the real party started. Something you have to understand, is the stress involved with living out of a hotel for three days + having to move rooms twice + shuttling 11 people all over Portland at different times, with only three cars + BIG BROTHER IS GETTING MARRIED! WHAT! = we were all just a tad snippy.

The wedding was beautiful -- Luke had arranged three Beatles' songs for the cello, piano and viola -- just his style. Nobody warned the ringbearer that the rings weren't the real ones so he was plenty embarrassed to step up and hand them over only to have the pastor (who happens to be his dad) lean down and say THOSE ARE FOR LOOKS, SON. Yeah. He cried in the corner for like, 10 minutes after the ceremony. Molly and I sang a song for communion, and I was doing great until I looked at Erica then it all went to pot. To a degree, Erica several years back, went through something quite similar to what I've experienced these last few months. It encouraged me greatly to see her happy and quite obviously fulfilled, for having waited out the pain and healing alike.

And this is where it gets really good. The reception was held at the Jupiter Hotel in SE. I wish there were a way to describe the complete awesomeness which ensued, but there are no words. From the toasts to the amazing dance mix, it was quite possibly the best time we've had in a long while.

(l) Kyle giving his awesome toast. He made her raise her right hand and swear to the family name, and all that it implies. (r) Pretty sure this is where the maid of honor mentioned an ex-boyfriend.

I've long rolled my eyes at the tradition of throwing the bouquet. I understand the sentimentality, but give me a break. Let's line up all the single women and throw something at them. I usually play the wallflower or hide behind my camera, but somebody took it then shoved me out onto the floor and before I knew it, I'd reached up to get the damn thing. I don't know what compelled me. However - I like to think I upped the incentive for all the cute, single men -- which, by the way, HOW does my brother have so many unattached friends? Is it a Portland thing or are they deceptively charming? We'll go with that.

Also prior to now, I was the self-proclaimed wedding reception dance hater. They're always suuuuper lame. But really, you just need those who will go with you and pretty soon you have a party. We were on the dance floor for hours, gettin' down with our bad selves. My expert theory is that the masses of single people + those just plain crazy, combined with an open wine bar and all wrapped into one very anticipated event, turned our evening into a positively awesome one.

It was then that several people confessed that they thought Luke had asked his sisters to sing as the token get-the-family-involved action, and they were pleasantly surprised to find out we could actually sing. That said, I lost count of the number of guys who, at some point during the night, pulled me aside on the dance floor (more like pulled me close and yelled into my ear) and told me they thought I had the 'voice of an angel'.

At the end of a very long night, we'd said our goodbyes and realized we were famished, so the siblings hit Denny's. Because what's a successful weekend without a midnight trip to the 24-hr restaurant, can I get an amen...