Temerity Jane

Something is missing from the box.

You guys! My birthday was so awesome! Thank you everyone for all the birthday wishes and such.

Here are some updates:

1. I have not yet eaten all the chocolate.

2. I took my camera out to take pictures, but did you know that the ability to actually take decent pictures doesn’t come with the camera?

3. Did you also know that my ability to take pictures of anything that isn’t the dog or Phil making disgruntled faces is actually pretty severely limited?

Anyway, though, even if I can’t take good pictures yet, I want you to look at this picture and notice some things:

Things to notice:

1. Aren’t they both incredibly handsome?

2. Phil is in it, so it isn’t taken with his phone.

3. We’re away from the house, so it isn’t taken with the camera attached to my computer.

4. It’s still t-shirt weather here, apparently.

So, what you should take from that is that you could reasonably expect that there would finally be some pictures around here to break the monotony of all the words, the words, oh my god, I use so many of them, since I no longer have to be next to Phil or next to my computer to take a picture.

However, you can also notice that the pictures are actually no better than what you’d expect from an iPhone or a webcam, because I don’t know what the eff I’m doing. At all.

The camera can take pictures from really far away:

You can tell that this picture was taken from really far away because if I knew that Phil was taking a picture that featured the wide, flat spot where my ass should have grown in sometime in infancy, I would have killed him.

If the camera was a magic camera (magic in the sense that it could read thoughts, not magic in the sense that it magically took good pictures, because that would just make my life too damn easy, now, wouldn’t it?), this is what that picture would look like:

So, now that I have a camera, I’ve got a to do list:

1. Learn to work camera.

2. Discover if camera has secret powers of any kind – this could take a while, because they’re probably well hidden, but not so well hidden that I can’t stumble across them accidentally on either a dark, rainy afternoon when I’m trapped inside at my mean aunt’s house where there are no other children to play with, or when life just keeps handing me lemons and I really need/deserve something like a magic camera to make my life magical.

3. Start to lead an interesting life worth photographing.

4. Spend the rest of the day drawing thought bubbles over the head of the dog in which he says hilarious and clever things that you’d never think a dog would even say, show a few to Phil later, get the “What is your damage, Heather?” raised eyebrow look, shamefully hide the rest of the pictures many folders deep on my computer.

This camera, like all things in the end, will of course lead to me eventually feeling deep, deep shame. Except I mostly only pretend to feel shame when people give me that “aren’t you kind of ashamed of that” look, because come on, up yours. Dog thought bubbles are goddamn hilarious.