My loving husband gave me an iPhone for my birthday last month, and I know how to use it, mostly.
It has two cameras—one on the back so I can take pictures of what I am looking at and one on the front so I can take pictures of myself, or spy on whatever is going on behind my back. Today I’m going to use it for a self portrait, if I can just remember how it works.
Hmm. Okay, I see it now. Maybe I need to hold this phone up and out a little bit.
That’s better. But geez, I look like a dork in this picture. It’s no wonder I hate having my picture taken. I’ve got my computer glasses on. I need my regular glasses.
Glasses are better, face position not so much. I just need to hold this camera up, or look down, or something.
Whoops. I must have inadvertently switched cameras. Wait a minute.
That’s a little better, but not really. This must be my “I’m concentrating,” look.
I’m going to get my sunglasses. I look better in my sunglasses.
See, I do look better in my sunglasses, if you ignore the fact that I am sitting inside, in my study, wearing sunglasses. I knew I should be doing this outside on my porch.
I think if I had a scarf on it would be even better.
I’m going to go get a hat.
Maybe if I just turn to the side a little bit . . .
Where in the world is Carmen Sandiago?
If I ever played that game I’m sure I lost. I’m terrible at geography. I don’t know what I was doing in grade school when they were teaching me geography.
And I wonder why I can’t seem to get control of the hours in a day. . .