i mean how breath-taking is the view? the rooftops reminded me of the istanbul train scene from skyfall, without the adrenaline rush. the mister obliged and let me snap photos of him. we laugh that every holiday album can be captioned 'the mister and his personal photographer go to...' because there are precious few photos of me. undoubtedly more comfortable behind the camera than in front, and maintain i'm completely unnatural and unphotogenic which makes it even harder to photograph. my father is probably the only person who takes satifactory photos of me. the mister has his moments, some turn out better than others and i hated most of my wedding photos because i didn't like how i looked in them, talented as our photographer was. totes not his fault, and also not confessional of body dysmorphia.
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