No Photographic Evidence to Worry About

So, I finally decided to look through the pictures taken while visiting Sicily and Southern Italy...last year...about this time...but maybe drier? And more spring-like? Cuz I don't know how it is with you? But it went from Spring to mid-Winter over-night and yeah, I really miss the sunshine, wine, and far too many (but yummy) 10,000 calorie meals.

Ebbro Fauno (Drunken Faun), National Archaeological Museum, Naples:

I know, I know, my arm is all busted and what am I doing fiddling with the root of the problem? Oh contrare! I'm becoming a pro at left-handed mousing.

Hmm, how to put this nicely? There really is no way--really! So living up to my blog name I will simply steam-roller forward. MJ, I love you, you know I do.

So, except for the self-portrait I took that one time I really needed a mirror? (Oh come on, you know you've done it too!) You'd never know I was there. I mean, you'd know some chunky brown-haired FUZZY female was there, but is it really me? Hard to tell.

See, the problem with fancy high-tech-like digi-cameras is that sometimes? Like when little "more mature" ladies are stealing your soul making you pose for a picture? And that wee little screen is just so wee little and they absolutely REFUSE to put on their glasses cuz what if the super hot looks-like-an-italian-antonio-banderas tour guide (that befriended me and therefore all the ladies-ALL OF THEM, including maybe your xMIL-a little-HATED YOUR GUTS and were absolutely certain--except for your xMIL cuz you bunked together the entire time--you'd slept with him and/or maybe even the older Canadian guide with the super tight pants before the end of the tour) were to look this way?!?! Right, did I ever share those stories?

Well regardless, the result is that every, single, shot, that I didn't take or is, ugh, of me, is of a ghastly fuzzy me. It's like looking at the world before I got my glasses. Or better yet, you know when they've dilated your eyes and then the optometrist is like, "okay, now that you are totally unable to focus, let's choose some brand new glasses!" And you spend the next 20 minutes in a Seinfeld episode squinting and backing up and stepping forward and hoping against hope that it really is a mirror and not a poster you're looking at? But everything is so whacked how can you tell-fuzzy? Yep, that's exactly what it feels like when I run into those pictures. Nice.

The guilt I had about not taking the time to make a nice CD of the trip or even boring Andy with them? So totally gone.