Incompetent In Houston

I'm so bitter. I've been planning a blog entry for four days over something Christmasy but I wanted it to have a certain picture with it. I just think it's so cool how AJ can download (upload? freeload? buckload? what-the-heck-ever load, I-don't-even-care-load) a picture with an article. I'm constantly wishing I could do the same thing and, had I been able to before now, you would have had all manner of thrilling snapshot at my birdfeeders. Maybe even some frame-ables. I know you hate that you've missed that. And, indeed it may be God sparing you that I can't seem to have a photography breakthrough.

I had a sudden rush of confidence this week and decided I was going to buy myself a camera with thingies I could plug into my computer and do whatever it is you do to get a picture on a blog. I didn't want just any kind of camera. I was ready for a fine one. One you don't even throw away. I marched myself to the One-Hour Photo department at my neighborhood Walgreens and gazed with discerning eyes at the cameras hanging on the rack behind the counter. I couldn't test any of them because they were the kinds with the grossly annoying heavy see-through plastic packaging on them that portable CD players come in. There was one camera for $69 (after rebate, she explained. Like I'm going to follow-through with a rebate. At our house rebate is something you do when the worm fell off your fish-hook) but, remember, I wasn't there for a cheap one. Nope. My Siestas are worth more than that. I asked, "How much is that one right there?" She sighed like it bothered her to have to work for a living and said, "$129." I responded smugly, "I'll take it!" One hundred and twenty-nine dollars I spent on y'all at the Walgreens! When's the last time you spent that at the drug store if you weren't getting drugs? Yep, I dropped it like it was hot for my beloved Siestas.

I was so happy driving home. So full of hope. Peace on Earth. Good will to men. I only quenched about 20% of the Spirit trying to open it. I practically had to get a buzz-saw from the garage to get into the dad-blasted thing. My arms are sore today. The instruction manual was three-fourths of an inch thick which I found disconcerting. I have commentaries shorter than that. I finally pulled the gadget out and pushed different stuff until it made a noise and the front popped out. (The light, lens, or whatever it is.) I had somehow turned it on and was thrilled by the victory. God who'd begun a good work was going to be faithful to complete it! The screen asked me what kind of picture I wanted to take. I said out loud, "Christmas." That must not have been what it meant because it soon lost interest and turned itself off. I pushed different stuff until it came on again. I could tell already that it didn't like me and I just don't get why. I liked it. Why didn't it like me? I mean, give me a chance, will ya? A girl's gotta learn, doesn't she?

Camera on and ready, I, then, went to my library (that used to be a dining room until Keith gave up and put bookshelves in there in an attempt to move all the resources off the table) and took a picture of what I wanted to take a picture of. (I'm not telling because I'm still going to do it. The thing of it is, it's not even that good. It will be a titanic let down by the time I even do it! Now it's just the stinkin' point. I'm in such a foul mood.) I took the picture and felt a fun feeling in my stomach. Then, I'll swear to goodness if the screen didn't come up with the words "Memory Full." What the heck fire do you mean "Memory Full"????? What the heck-shooting-dern-dang-every-slang-word-that's-not-quite-a-cuss-word do you mean "Memory Full"? I just took ONE PICTURE!!!! And don't even start talking to me about memory cards. Amanda's already tried that. The stupid thing ought to have some memory without a card. And, anyway, if it needed one, why didn't it come with it? I tried to get Melissa to help me but all she could say was, "Bless your heart, Mom. I love you so much." I didn't even say it back.

I packed up the whole thing in a bag and brought it to work today to see which one of my staff members loves me most. So far I don't think anyone loves me at all. And you know what galls me most? I couldn't even figure out how to get the wrist strap on it. (I had to flip through the camera commentary to even see what you called the stupid thing.) OK. There you have it. Or, to be more accurate, there you don't.

With love and good intentions,
Incompetent in Houston