Which they did, and it was perfect in every way. And even though I totally suck, and I have no clue why they tolerate me, they do and for that reason I am the luckiest human alive. I should really start playing the lottery.
Anyway, they sent me the World's Best Point and Shoot, and I have been truly, madly, deeply in love with it. But dragging a poor, helpless camera with you every single place you ever go takes a toll on it, and for the better part of a year, I've only been able to shoot pictures at a 52 1/2 degree angle, which has made for some really awesome pictures but has grown the slightest bit, well, annoying as all fuck. And then about a month ago, it went to sleep and never woke up the next day. I'm not entirely sure it's dead yet; in fact, I think it may feel happy and be up for a nice walk, but until I can find a decent camera shop, I'm shit out of luck.
Was shit out of luck.
Daddy came through big time with a DSLR and gave it to me before Mother's Day so I could hide behind it while his mother was here take really nice pictures of his mom's visit. This *almost* makes up for him putting three whole people in me that had to come out through, well, that.
I haven't used a manual camera since I was the photographer for my high school senior year book, which was just enough years ago that my underwear from then is officially out of style. I'd always used one before, though. My parents were kind of snobs about a few things, cameras being one of them. We didn't always have dinner, but we had a Marantz amp and a '68 Fretless Wonder and really bomb-ass cameras. In fact, my father still has and uses all three of those things. And about 15 Beta desks. He's a pack-rat and Betas are totally superior decks; shut up.
So I've got this new totally awesome camera and I can barely remember how to use the version of it that took film, let alone figure out digital excellence. But I'm determined. Someone sent me a subscription to American Photography and The Donor is insisting I take classes on how to use it to get me the fuck out of this house once in a while so it's sheer brilliance won't be squandered.
Meanwhile, I'm having fun toying with it. Which means it's a boy. I'm okay with that. So far, I've guessed my way into a few pretty decent pictures. (titles show up if you hover)