My boyfriend recently purchased a real nice, real expensive camera. In last night's charade i was snapping stills with said item.

I'm taking photo's for Oprah. Tyra Banks is on the show, and so is some other famous super model whose face now escapes me. Oprah wants some shots of the three of them. Her people are setting up the props she wants in the scene. While i wait i take a series of photos of this beautiful, detailed blanked thrashing in a current of air. I realize much time has passed, and i am told that the two models wanted to lay around in their room before the taping of the show. I obviously am determined to get a shot of the three of them together. I set out in search of the girl's quarters. On the way, i keep running into photo op.s: Steve and a group of kids playing dodge-ball with large, egg shaped balls, some girls doing something else.. i can't remember, but i know i kept stopping. On time that i stopped, this girl and i get into it about something and i kick her in the shin a few times.. She backs away slowly and claims she's allergic to being kicked in the shins. I don't stick around to find out. I run and run until i'm back to where i photographed Steve. I realize.. I DON'T HAVE SCOTT'S CAMERA! Deliriously, i search for the toy. I run into some girl and she agrees to help me. I search my mind for a memory of having it between now and the last set of shots.. I wake up.