Of the Gattuso Varietal

I had to stretch on my tip toes to reach my camera bag this afternoon. With one hand already occupied with the phone in my ear, I one-armed it from its high throne then hoisted its bulk to the kitchen table.

We're talkin' old school camera here. So old school that after googling Walmart and Walgreens, I'm not entirely sure that they still do the 1-hour 35mm print dealios. This is somewhat alarming, considering this was the one positive step I could take toward pushing myself to better territory, this apparently archaic form of photography. And it almost didn't happen...

First, the battery was dead. Well, duh. It's only been lying dormant since my sophomore year of college, and no, I don't want to do the math and depress myself further. But to complicate things, the screw that held the battery case wouldn't unscrew. I unscrewed and I pulled and I tugged and I twisted and pinched and MY GOD it would NOT come out! Until the 105th try, apparently. Even then it came out grudgingly. Second, it looked like an alkali, battery acid explosion happened somewhere along the way, so there was some cleaning in order. But even with fresh batteries, the camera didn't turn on. I had to take the pack out, reverse the batteries (didn't work), and then reverse the batteries again (yes, I know this doesn't makes sense, but please don't judge). Randomly, for no apparent reason, the camera decided to turn on once the batteries had been placed in the exact same position as the first time. So. That was rigoddamndiculous fun.

But! Then she clicked... that exciting click of a legitimate camera that's ready for you to point her at that perfect light. Or the apricot tree in the back yard so thick with fruit you can practically hear it begging you to lighten the load. And another random tree in the back yard... and the dog. The new dog that the beau (soon to be hubby... hrrm, will have to play with new monikers) brought home who does. not. stop. chewing. shit. Including the wedding invites that showed up on our doorstep while I was inside cleaning and, as is imaginable, completely unaware that someone silently deposited such a ungodly expensive precious package. This dog and I have not started out on the right foot. He is not endearing me to him... the damn thing chewed up a bag of charcoal - wait for it - that he fished out from behind the full self-feeding container of dog food.

All of these pictures were being taken with my little sister on the phone... a sort of lazy conversation as I peered through the lense up into dangling green leaves and she browsed the six dollar rack in Target. I miss my sister... I miss my family. This has been a difficult - albeit good - transition, but that's a story for another day.

So that's Day 1 of busting out the camera. And yet another day I procrastinated my work out. Win/Fail. Draw?