or, stuff that I dragged out of my head

Location: Moncton, New Brunswick, Canada

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Picture Imperfect

Despite the fact that I was recently reduced to hot tears by a mere movie, I discovered tonight that I am a cold, heartless, unfeeling monster.

I was working tonight and one of the pieces I was framing was a photograph signed by someone (we'll call her Susan) to someone else. (The someone who signed the picture is the person who placed the order.) And how exactly was the picture signed?

Lot's of love, Susan

The first thing I thought was, "Goddammit, does nobody know how to punctuate any more?" And without even switching gears--without even the barest notion that it's the thought that counts, blah blah blah--I thought, "I could never have that picture in my house, because every time I saw it, I'd be thinking how stupid that mistake was."

Does it really matter in the grand scheme of things? Maybe the recipient doesn't know the difference, either! Or maybe he or she doesn't care! Maybe there are more important things in life than accurate spelling and punctuation! (Though there aren't.) Maybe the mere possession of a lovingly hand-signed photograph will bring the recipient untold happiness!

But I don't care. I couldn't have it in my house, because I really wouldn't ever be able to look at it without getting severely annoyed. Let this stand as a warning to anyone who might ever want to send me a signed photo.


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