camera envy

Look at it. I mean, how can I not? It's huge. It's crisp and fast and able to take more than one picture every five seconds. I look at the pictures of France that fill travel guides and calendars. I think of my point and shoot that would slow and freeze and die on the top of every hill and in front of every house that I wanted to capture.

I look at the pictures this baby can handle... and I know that they'll breathe. They'll be shown to loved ones with the scent of the street market and the feel of the light shower or morning sun still sticking to them. They'll have depth. They'll catch things that I didn't even know were there.

I found a refurbished camera on Amazon, a steal. I'm holding out, hoping it will still be there when someone older and more responsible tells me it's okay to invest in her.

Joe was not that person. It's funny. We always joke that I'll handle the finances. I'll keep us on a budget. Then I get so excited about a real purchase, and he reminds me that no, I shouldn't. It's not a good idea.

I'm still not convinced.