The Stars Align (or, how Pretty D50-II came into my life)

Christmas 2005, I became the ecstatic owner of a brand new Nikon D50. I named her Pretty, and Pretty she was.

July 2006, Pretty was stolen in India. I was not pleased, and vowed to replace her with either another D50, or something even prettier.

Soon after, Nikon came out with two new DSLR cameras, the D40 and the D80. The D40 is fun, kicky, light and (relatively) cheap. However, it isn't compatible with my zoom lens. The D80 is bigger, better, but sadly, pricier. Considerably. The D80 could not be mine for many months to come. As a result of the new cameras, D50's were being discontinued "spring/summer 2007". This meant most stores were no longer bringing them in; after all, there was the D40! Or the D80! Buy the new ones! They sparkle! Meanwhile, I kept a close eye on camera reviews and prices. All in all, the D40 and D80 were getting great reviews, much like the D50 had when it first came out.

So, last week I started to research prices and specifications in earnest. Which camera would be best for me? Which could I afford? Finally, what with the D50 being on clearance, I decided that Pretty in her original form was the best fit. So then I needed to find one.

I called every camera store in Vancouver. Kerrisdale, Broadway, Dunne & Rundle. No one had it. Finally, I called Lens & Shutter. They did not have any, but according to the computer there were a couple in Victoria. They would call me back and let me know if it was possible to bring one in.

They didn't call.

Hours later, on my way home, I decided to stop in and at least check to see if any progress had been made. I found a very helpful salesguy (Hi Michael!), who asked just about everyone on the floor if they'd been the one I had spoken with. No one had any idea of my call. So then he decided to look into it, warning me that it may not be possible to bring any in from Victoria, since the shipping cost could negate their profits, what with the clearance rate. Overhearing "D50", a passing sales guy exclaimed that one had just arrived from Victoria for a customer of his, to be picked up on Tuesday. Michael informed me that my chances at an imported camera were looking up, and continued punching away at his computer. Then the manager of the store walked by, asking what we were doing. Michale began to explain my plight ("this young lady is looking for a D50, so I'm looking at Victoria's inventory") when the manager cut him off with "I just took a D50 off the hold shelf a couple of hours ago! If no one's bought it yet, we should have one in the store!" (very jovial man, this manager). I held my breath. Michael asked if the manager had the keys to the storeroom. He did not. Michael went to find the keys. I resumed breathing, out of necessity, which was a good call as it took Michael five minutes to find the keys, and another five to emerge from the storeroom holding my camera in his arms. I whipped out my poor, tired Visa card, and walked out with my pretty pretty D50. In a few moments, the "Picture of the Now" will be one of the first taken by her.

Welcome home, Pretty.

Happy International Women's Day!

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Accident Prone

I've never thought of myself as a particularly clumsy person. I don't tend to drop things, or break glasses, and apart from the occasional stubbed toe, am generally quite injury-free. That being said, I'm not a terribly graceful person either. Of the T-Jan friendship, T clearly got all the dancing skill (and years of training), and if I can manage to not look like a total fool next to her, that's just fine.

Today, however, I was walking to the cafe to study, after a training session at the other workplace (and therefore in heels, although they are admittedly only like 1 inch). I was walking along the sidewalk, when suddenly out of nowhere I tripped, on...well, nothing, it seems, and fell. And scraped the crap out of my chin. And mouth. And luckily did not chip any of my teeth, since sidewalks are more tooth-friendly than basketball opponents' foreheads. So I walked into the cafe, looking like I'd just gotten into a fight with some sandpaper, and bleeding slightly, and then tried to clean it all up as best I could. One of the guys working kindly made me an icepack, while the other, who had met me all of once before, for about 3 seconds, just tried not to make it too obvious he thought I was crazy. It's highly likely icepack coworker thought I was crazy too, but he has more evidence to base this on, so for some reason that's better.

Anyhow, J came and met me for lunch, and as she was marveling over my injury, I started to think of all the other strange things that have happened. The aforementioned basketball game (cost: chip out of tooth and toenail), this battle with gravity (cost: skin from chin/lips, pride, and a pair of shoes since I choose to blame the ones I was wearing), two battles with seagulls in my first year at UBC (cost: ability to ever eat outside on campus ever again), slipping in a -clean, thank god- bathroom in india after wearing newly purchased pants (cost: the white toilet seat becoming purple from dye transfer), a mosquito biting me on my lip (cost: my "I don't look like i've had two lips worth of collagen injected into only one lip" appearance). Considering the least recent of these incidents was 6 years ago, and the most recent was 6 hours ago, I think it's fair to say that I am more accident prone than I had thought. Sigh. There's another self-perception that just been downgraded.