Fifteen crappy pictures cost me $6.

In the rush to get everything bigger better faster more (thanks, 4 Non Blondes) I think some of the simplest pleasures get forgotten -- for one, picking up pictures from the drugstore. I did that today for the first time in forever (evidenced by how old the pictures were) and the walk back to the car was like Christmas morning. Wondering what the packet would hold, who'd be in the pictures, whether I'd look good enough to post any of them. In the world of instant digital photography, there's never any anticipation. It's almost like online dating -- you already know everything about the person before appetizers. Where's the suspense?!

And here's what I found ...

A birthday party at Clautiere Vineyard in Paso Robles. Apparently wine tastes better when you look like an idiot. (And obviously the gene genius screwed up my natural hair color. I love this.)

She's a flapper, and I have no idea what he is. Something politically incorrect, I'm sure.

Before the second edition of Three Girls Gone Wild. This one was pretty tame compared with the infamous NYE oh-something, when we played "I Never" on BART out to SF and didn't remember to stop drinking.