I never had one of those “I dropped my phone into a full glass of whiskey/toilet/other how-electronics-and-liquids-don’t-mix” stories. Then, I took my Ts out in Coruna. In a desperate dash to use the toilet, I didn’t notice that I’d put my camera – newly repaired after six agonizing months of waiting – in my back pocket.
It fell in the toilet. I did what I went to do. Then I flushed.
Someone else noticed it first. Gareth hugged me, and Megan asked me not to cry. Julie even took the camera to her dad’s house and put it in a bag of rice for me. I am the big old boss lady, and big old boss lady girls don’t cry.
So, I’ve been making do. This means borrowing my amazing blogger’s SLR to snap a few shots and relying on my camera phone, which thankfully has good quality. All the same, it’s allowing me to see the Crystal City with my own eyes, and not just behind the lens.
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