It has been a while since there has been a photo, eh? My computer is bursting at its little seams with digital photos. No more room. I’m paranoid about losing it all, which is why I back things up on an external hard drive, but I don’t really trust those, either. Better to burn to a CD plus the external drive.
Mimi asked if we could borrow a friend’s phone the other day, because her phone somehow produced photos on paper, unlike my camera or husbands phone. The situation is not quite as magical as that, however said friend does have lots and lots of her digital photos printed, unlike me. Which had me pause and wonder what its like to grow up in a time when photography is viewed on a screen, rather than in someone’s photo album or tucked away in a back drawer of your bedside table, or framed on a wall or desk. She craves the physicality of personal photographs that I grew up taking for granted. I got my first digital camera in 2001 and haven’t looked back since.
I can tell that my husband and I have been together a long time, because I have photos that I took with a film camera of him and his cat and my cat and our early, lovey years together. I don’t believe I’ve taken a single photo of my daughters on film, though I was able to capture some of their very early months on a mini DV tape. Where are those, anyway?
20 Fingers, 20 Toes 
I stuck with film until the second guy was born. Now I have the same bulging digital files and nothing in a shoebox. Ask the in-laws how pissed they are about not getting a monthly envelope of photos.
I know where all my mini DV tapes are. And the “someday I’ll upload and edit” has become “bahahahahah hahahaha maybe when I get an assistant.”
Why do only celebrities have assistants? And nannies and personal chefs and housekeepers.
How does one become a celebrity, again? Maybe my assistant can find out for me.