I have spent the last two days taking photos of Oliver, our brand new shih-poo puppy who moved in on Friday. He’s two pounds of fur with eyes. Once I download the photos from my camera, I’ll post them so all our voices can collectively rise three octaves higher as we scream OH MY GOD, HOW CUTE! WHICH END IS HIS HEAD?
I have also spent the better part of the last two days standing outside and begging Oliver to pee. Or poop. I’d be happy with either one, provided neither happened inside my house. It’s a contest of wills and I have to say, for a little two pound stinker, he’s a worthy opponent. The score so far?
Speaking of taking photos, I still only have my little point and shoot, having sold my Canon DSLR last year in hopes of someday buying a Nikon D90 but I did get a chance to use a Nikon D40 that Zoe brought home this weekend from her photography class. I so miss having a DSLR. All I could think as I was following Oliver around and clicking away was Damn, this pee on the living room carpet would look positively radiant if I had a macro lens.
I leave you with the post I wrote last year, The Idiot’s Indecisive OCD Guide to Buying a Point and Shoot Camera. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to carry Oliver outside for yet another duel. May the best bespectacled shortie win!
And just so we’re clear, Oliver doesn’t wear glasses.
Happy Sunday, everyone!
The Idiot’s OCD Guide to Buying a Point and Shoot Camera
Look in the mirror and proudly declare I WILL NOT BE AN IDIOT TODAY.
Realize you’re not fooling anyone.
Grab a donut.
Coo “good morning” to your computer, give it a kiss, hold your breath and logon.
When your computer boots up without pitching a hissy, exhale.
Eat your donut.
Google every single make and model of point and shoot cameras known to man, which is approximately eleventy billion.
Soon realize that eleventy billion qualifies as being more cameras than you can shake a stick at.
Ponder what the hell “shake a stick at” even means and could the phrase be any more stupid?
Remember fondly Chandler Bing and the whole Friends gang.
Google reviews of every single one of those cameras.
Create a spread sheet detailing the make, model, pros, cons and price of every single camera you see.
Continue googling to double and triple check your information.
Lather, rinse, repeat twenty-five times.
Decide on a camera.
Change your mind.
Change it back.
Jump in your car.
Drive yourself up the nearest wall.
Google a completely different brand of camera.
Ponder why you didn’t choose that brand in the first place.
Decide it was an omen that you didn’t choose that brand in the first place and revert back to your original choice.
Totally forget what your original choice was.
Declare all omens as stupid and google an entirely different make and model.
Stick with that make, but change the model.
Stick with that model, but change the make.
Realize you can’t do that.
Silently call yourself a moron.
Rub your eyes and discover that they hurt.
Look in the mirror and check if your eyeballs are where they are supposed to be.
Search the floor for your left retina.
Eat another donut.
Choose another make and model of camera.
Call your husband and ask his opinion.
Hang up on him when he says get whatever you want but only after you shout WAY TO BE SUPPORTIVE.
Go find a molehill.
Make it into a mountain.
Google, google, google.
Slap yourself a wake-up call and narrow your choices to two.
Congratulate yourself by eating another donut.
Throw your scale out the window.
Get back into your car and drive to Best Buy.
Test both cameras.
Decide that Google is out to get you because you hate both of them.
Discover a totally different camera you never heard of but really like.
Toy with the idea of being spontaneous and buying it right on the spot.
Remember who you are and come back to reality.
Drive home and google that particular camera until your eyes bleed.
Discover the camera is on sale at your local Target.
Realize that it’s entirely possible you may actually buy something you want before a sale expires.
Take a moment to process the enormity of this situation.
Peek out the window to make sure the world didn’t come to an end behind your back.
Decide that God might actually on your side.
Contemplate whether asking Him to turn you into Jennifer Aniston would be pushing your luck.
Decide it is.
Drive to Target and buy the camera.
Come home and deposit the camera on your kitchen counter and stare at it.
Google freaking google.
Second guess yourself.
Lather, rinse, repeat until you’ve second guessed yourself 542 times.
Sleep on it.
The figurative camera, not the actual one.
Wake up and stare at the camera.
The actual camera, not the figurative one.
Goo … ugh, I can’t even say it anymore.
Drive to Target and return the camera.
Both the figurative and actual one.
Come home and open your window.
Toss out all of your preconceived notions of personal responsibility and accountability.
Wait for your husband to buy you a point and shoot for your birthday.
Immediately upon capturing your first blurry shot, assess blame accordingly.