The Everywhereist

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Have you ever returned from a trip, or a party, some sort of special, I-really-should-take-photos kind of event, and realize that you took barely any photos at all?

You may have a handful of them, but they are blurry or poorly-composed or they make you think “Why in god’s name did I take a photo of that?” or “Please, for the love of Pete, let that be someone’s elbow and not … gah!”

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Folks, I am a bit of a thief.

No, I’m not referring to that one time in Barcelona (though I must say, the sheer amount of hate mail I got over that post was both unexpected and delightful).

My sticky-fingeredness occurs far more often than that. I steal from friends, from loved ones, from both those closest to me and those I’ve never met. Sometimes, it happens without me realizing it. Most of the time, though, it’s completely intentional.

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I think the true test of any marriage is how well you can handle being stuck in traffic together.

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