New delights

My new camera has a few features that my old camera didn't have. One of them that I find particularly amusing is the continuous motion sports function or whatever the hell it's called. Basically, I push the button once and it takes 20 pictures at lightening speed of any moving object. It's pretty cool.

This is how we tested it out:

I mostly love watching Apollo's tail and look of excitement on his face. He really has no idea what to do with us. What the camera didn't capture was Dustin running up to me and me fearing for my life.

Isn't it a lovely love affair?

Dustin has been having a secret love affair with my camera lately. I don't know what started it. Maybe I'm not paying enough attention to him. Maybe he just needs his own camera. Or MAYBE he can have my camera since he likes it so much and I can get a brand spanking new one! I like this idea.

But anywho, I realized just how many pictures he had taken over the days when I caught him trying to take a candid shot of me as I put together his lunch for him. I snatched the camera away and deleted the pictures ( yes plural! I really need to start being aware of my surroundings) of me. That's when I saw that there were 17 pictures that I had nothing to do with. I went through them and decided that I might as well post them.

So here they are.

Even Apollo was in on this affair and he didn't even have the nerve to let me know! We're not on speaking terms right now.

I guess I got Dustin into taking pictures of food. But unlike him, I don't wanna take pictures of every single thing I make. Just the things that I'm especially proud of or think are super cute or pretty. And I don't take pictures of recipes.

But maybe Dustin was just really proud of this chicken pot pie that I let him help me with. He DID do the crust and that's the first time he's ever worked with any kind of pastry. He did a good job and it was really yummy. I guess I'll let this one go.

See his reflection? I think it's cute. And the way he positioned the spoon makes me wanna pinch his cheeks.

This picture is adorable and completely shows what goes on every friggin' day. If we're in the kitchen, Apollo is right there waiting for us to feed him something. And he always looks so annoyingly cute doing it too.

Yogurt marmalade cake. Dustin had nothing to do with this creation but he wanted to take pictures of it anyway. The only reason I didn't was because I just wanted it in my face. It took longer than it was supposed to in the oven and I was a grumpy mess when it was finally done. I just wanted to grumble and complain while I ate it.

He made me pose with the knife and tried to get me in the shot but I wouldn't allow it. I was Sunday morning! And everyone knows that Sundays mean Tara doesn't get dressed, stick in contacts, do her hair, or wear makeup! Whats that? You didn't know that? Well...now you do. I'm quite sure I had no pants on at this time.

Good lord I'm clumsy!

So, about a week ago I was getting ready to go to work and everything was right with the world. Except for the extreme humidity we have here but whatever. I was shaving my legs in the shower like I hadn't a care in the world when I suddenly felt a weird tugging beneath my Venus razor (they're the best brand I assure you).

I looked down at my fantastically tanned leg and noticed a strip that was whiter than the rest of my fantastically tanned leg. I was confused at first. I looked at my razor, which now had a big chunk of my skin stuck in between it's blades. Then I looked back down at my leg. At this point the blood had started to flow. And when I say flow, I actually mean pour. Right down the rest of my leg and pool around my feet.

I have to be honest. I freaked. I started hyperventilating and blacking out from loss of blood and not being able to breathe. But I tried to calm myself down (and failed) as I attempted to comb through my conditioned hair and rinse it out. Because if I was going to the hospital my hair was at least gunna look good! I have priorities people.

When I got out of the shower there was blood everywhere and I was still hyperventilating hardcore. I have never injured myself like this in my entire life. I have a grand total of zero scars on my body. The worse injury I had was my sprained ankle and that didn't involve blood or exposed raw flesh that shouldn't be exposed.

I grabbed a washcloth and just held it to my shin, shaking and sobbing as I quickly called Dustin who was at work at the time. When he picked up I could barely catch my breath to form words to tell him what had happened. But that's OK because he caught key words like "blood everywhere" and "cut myself!" Of course he starts thinking the worst which happens to be me chopping my finger off. That would've been pretty scary too.

But hot damn, did he get home in record time! And as soon as he saw me and my leg he started BAWLING. He didn't do a very good job comforting me. Then I felt bad for scaring him so much. But I was scared too! I couldn't help my reaction.

I calmed down mucho once he was there though. And once the blood loss stopped after 15 minutes or so. Yea, I got quite a few layers of skin sliced off. Fear was quickly replaced with total grossed-out-ness. I had to throw out my razor cause I couldn't bare to look at a piece of my leg in it and I had shivers and heebie jeebies the rest of the day. I didn't go to the hospital because what would they do that I couldn't do at home?

We put peroxide on it (baaaaaad idea), slathered the neosporin on and covered that shit up with a crapton of Boo Bah band aides.

It stung a lot and it still does almost a week later but it wasn't so bad as far as pain goes. I was mostly really grossed out. I still have no idea how I managed to do this to myself. And then I felt stupid for fucking up my lovely beach legs. AND I was very unhappy with the idea of having a scar. I've been covering it with vitamin E and cocoa butter like crazy to try to keep it from scarring.

I'm really grateful that this wasn't on one of my tattoos though. It would've been completely ruined. And that's just a waste of money.

Later that night after work, I re bandaged my battle scar. I was spazzing out because the blood had come back and it brought one of it's friends, pus. It was so gross. But as I'm screaming and gagging I'm also telling Dustin to hurry up and get my camera. I paused from trying to hold back vomit long enough to pose for this cute picture of myself. You're welcome.

Mmmmm. This picture really doesn't do it justice.

In the battle between Tara and Razor.....Razor: 10, Tara: 0. That'll teach me to duke it out with pink hygiene products.

The next day it started to scab as you can see from the above 3 pictures. It looks a lot better now but there's still pus and blood and pain every day. And I keep accidentally banging my leg against things. That's what sucks the most. I just shaved my legs yesterday for the first time since this happened and I was terrified the whole time. It's gunna take me awhile to feel comfortable holding a razor again.

I wanted to share this with everyone because it scared me to death and I don't wanna be the only one who gets grossed out by this. I'm just generous like that.

Sometimes I think I'm losing my mind

This morning I got up to go pee and I swear to God, I thought there was a tiny baby shark on my bedroom floor.

I stared at it for the longest time waiting for it to move...or swim away or something.

Then I bent down and blew at it. It moved across the room and that's when I realized that it was just a tuft of lint.

Then I took a picture of it to post a blog about.

Mmmhmmm. Going bonkers.

One thing I came home to...

Yup. And the funny thing is, I didn't even notice until last night.

Did you notice??

In my last post I uploaded this picture:
Notice anything weird going on behind Mickey's head? Look again. There's a pale blue blur there. Do you see it now? That would be Dustin's pale blue boxers. They're blurry because he's wearing them and is, of course, dancing as I try to concentrate on taking pictures.

Just thought you all should know.

Don't take me out to a restaurant or a bar

At least once every day I go to take a drink from my water bottle, cranberry juice or (just recently) my can of ginger ale. I tilt the receptical too far and a trickle or sometimes an entire river of the liquid spills all over my face and chest.

Every. Single. Day.

I think I just dont pay attention or I forget how small my mouth is and that it cannot hold more than a tablespoon of beverage at a time.

Shameful.