Insta-Gramification

I had a bad day at work. My dog chewed my favorite pair of boots – nay, shoes, ever. Bridal magazines suck (Yes, Monique Luhillier, you make beautiful dresses. Now where is your cheaper, itchier older step-sister? I’d like to try her on, please.). And lastly, traffic is back – with a vengeance.

End of rant.

Ok, ok if you insist, just one more!

I went to dinner last night with 5 of my most favorite ladies to celebrate Megen’s 20-something birthday. I was all sorts of excited to use my recently acquired camera skills when (gasp!) I realized I had forgotten my CF card. Crap.

There are very few arguments in our house outside of who has been the best Doctor on Doctor Who (clarification: I wasn’t actually part of this argument but it technically happened in my house). For the most part, we only disagree over the fact that I can’t seem to bring myself to replenish the toilet paper roll (it’s exhausting and you know it) after I use the last piece. Seriously, people – I have never seen this level of unwarranted rage come from such a sweet and kind person ever in my life. And it pleases me greatly sometimes to witness it. This tiny detail makes. him. so. mad. For those of you counting, this ordeal usually ends in Brit – 1 and Stevie K. – 0.

Marriage is all about who can make the other person super pissed about seemingly meaningless things, right?

So anyway, I realize I have forgotten the CF and immediately flash-back to the second closest thing to an argument we’ve had about 20 times since getting my camera last year.

Boy: Did you remember to put your memory card back into your camera?

Me: No. I will do it before I need my camera again.

Boy: Just do it now (you lazy cow). You will forget it, I’m telling you.

Me: But I don’t want to. And how dare you call me a lazy cow!

Boy: Wait, what?

Ok, I made up that last part. And while we are being honest, the memory card in this story can also serve as a metaphor for all the things I’m too lazy to do. Oy, I’ve been really hard on myself today, I gotta tell you.

Either way, I inevitably find the memory card right there in my camera next time I want to use it (sigh).

And in short, he has created a monster.

My reaction upon realizing that, this time, the card is missing: 1) Panic – I was really looking forward to making my friends model for me. Trust me, they love it. Especially that C. Bush. What a ham.  And 2) Think about the smug satisfaction someone I know is going to get when he finds out what a turd I am.

I think fast (read: slower than a normal person thinks). How can I weasel my way out of this and hide my careless ignorance?! I come up with nothing. In the end, I regretfully (and shamefully) use my iPhone to take pictures the entire evening.

Brit – 1, Stevie – 1. And he is baaaaaaaack in the game, folks!

Without further ado, for your insta-gramification, a week (and then some) in photos:

And in case you ever find yourself in my boat, this is a great and timely blog post that popped up on my Reader today. Never forget your memory card again and win at marriage! Huzzah!

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