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Archive for May, 2006

Guess whose digital camera fits in a wine glass?

Yes, that would be mine. I found this out on Saturday night at my first-ever bridal shower. While Nick & I were taking really cute “we’re in love and in a garden” pictures. While I was holding a half-full glass of wine.

Sigh.

Heather was helping us out by taking the pictures (and doing a damn fine job of it, by the way) and when she handed me my tiny-ass camera, I promptly slam-dunked it into my wine (it’s a slippery rectangle–no place to grip at all) (and may I say that I wanted to buy the bigger camera with the grippy thing, but that I caved to my Beloved’s desire for a tiny camera that will fit into a pocket and also A WINE GLASS).

So I’m standing there in complete shock, paralyzed by my idiocy, for what feels like 10 hours. Meanwhile, Nick grabs the camera and runs to the house, asking for paper towels. I slam the rest of my wine (now camera-flavored!) and follow, thinking about how much that camera cost and how pretty the pictures are that were on that memory card. As soon as we get to the house, our Lovely Hostess announces that it’s time to open presents. Of course it is.

I ask her to delay the presents as our most expensive co-purchase lays dying (because at this point, more wine is coming out of it than I thought possible), and I hover as Nick works. Hovering always helps, right? Right. I finally had to go open presents, but Nick stayed on the porch, pressing wine out of the highly expensive digital camera that wasn’t yet 6 months old. He came in later and sat next to me and when I asked about the camera he just shook his head and looked grim.

The camera was dead.

Or so we thought until the next morning (after drinking heavily to combat the gloom)! He turned it on just before leaving for Best Buy and the damn thing worked! Everything works! Everything still works! And our pictures were there! Holy hotdamn hell!

So I’m not out $$$, which is nice. I am going to buy my camera a good cleaning, though. And possibly its own velvet bed. Probably also a lifejacket. But no wine.

Pictures taken both before and after the dunking:





Ed.: This was all ready to post yesterday, but Blogger was playing a little game called “Let’s Screw Everything Up And Drive Away Our Users.” I was not having fun.

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I’m getting closer and closer to panic.

It’s doing wonders for my wedding-related productivity: I have successfully talked both my Mom and my Mother-in-law-to-be into cutting people off the guest list (270-ish, down from 325–hooray!); I have ordered the invitations and they should be here on Tuesday (thank gods for the internet and its bounty); I have scheduled a second appointment with my hair stylist for another go at the… um, hair style; I have begun an exercise regimen that is completely kicking my ass.

I joined the local YMCA (even though I am neither a Young Man nor a Christian) and have this crazy dream that if I go 3 times a week I’ll be svelte and toned and able to dance all night at my wedding. Right now (day 4) I would feel lucky if I can get through the day without running into a wall due to complete loss of coordination. (Even my typing sucks worse than usual… you should see the crap I’m coming up with.) I’m going with a friend of mine (I’ll call her Miss Fitness) who used to be a dancer (I used to be a rugby player. A small one, but a rugger nonetheless). She’s in much better shape than I am (did I say “ex-dancer” yet?) which could suck in the confidence-boosting department, but doesn’t because she’s super nice and supportive and helpful. I do feel awesome when we lift weights though, because I have bigger muscles than she does and at least I have that over her, dammit.

With any luck I’ll have non-flabby arms and back by the time the wedding rolls around. In seventy-eight days.

What I have also been doing (and this is related to panic too, because panic means “active, but senseless behavior”) is watching a lot of Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVDs and reading random books and not working on the wedding knitting. Except on Monday, when I did knit 4 stitches on the Orange Black Hole of Knitting while at the unofficial Stitch-n-Bitch at the bar with Heather and Anna and Sandi. Yes. We met at a bar to stitch. No, no one got any stitching done except Anna and that’s only because she was in denial of all the beer. Sandi tried to stitch but kept getting her yarn caught in all the beer. I kept getting my mouth caught in all the beer, and Heather learned that she needs to learn to love beer, for it is happy and cheap. And did I have my camera? Of course not. I left it at home that night. So until I can scan Sandi’s regular-ole-pictures, you won’t see all the crazy fun we had.

(and oh my gosh, don’t you just love Wikipedia? Because seriously, I went from the entry on Buffy the Vampire Slayer to the entry on Received Pronounciation and I learned so much! Sweet! Knowledge is just floating around out there, waiting for us to grab it and absorb it into our minds! …. okay, that got a little weird.)

So, yes. Seventy-eight days. That’s so much time. I have acres of time. Huge tracts of time. I can accomplish so much in the space of all this time!

Stop laughing.

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Did you see it?

Did you watch the White House Press Correspondents’ Association Dinner/Thing on C-Span?

I didn’t (no cable). I heard about it from Stitchy McYarnpants (thank you).

Stephen Colbert took names and kicked ass in his speech last night, and you can see the whole thing–complete with visible discomfort on the part of GWBush, Laura Bush, and most of the audience–here at Democratic Underground. (It’s in two parts for easier downloading.) Commentary on it from Daily Kos and Salon.com.

I don’t have much to add to all of this, except to say HELL FUCKING YEAH and GOOD ON YEH, STEPHEN!

And just ITMFA.

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