Introducing Sarah E. Martin Photography

I know I’ve been quiet here lately, but I promise, I have a good excuse. I decided to make good use of this free time I have, so I’ve been working on this:

Go To Sarah E. Martin’s Photography Blog

Go check it out. It’s still a work-in-progress. I’ve been pulling some of my favorite photos out of my personal archives, and I’m working (mostly) in chronological order. The best pictures, (and the transition to the 40D) are still yet-to-come.

The Story of Another Cut

Yesterday I was helping Jennifer, the future sister in law, cut mat board for the genius center pieces she designed for her wedding when I lopped off the end of my finger with an X-acto knife.  ”Tip” might be a better word to describe the bit of my finger that’s missing than “end.” It’s just the very, very last bit of my left index finger.  

Because I often accidentally cut myself, and because I have an overt need to act like a badass all the time, I tried not to say much about it.  I simply plucked the bit of skin that was left on the X-acto knife and lamented my stupidness aloud as I got myself some band-aids.  It really didn’t hurt too badly.  I thought it was, you know, merely a flesh wound.  If you saw it yourself, you’d agree, this non-complaining response is the appropriate response relative to the nature of the wound itself.  It’s not that bad.

Three hours later, I was on my way home and I noticed that my finger was tingling under the band-aid.  That tingling was annoying.  That tingling eventually went away.

Two hours after that, I was laying in bed, trying my hardest to go to sleep after a long day, and a long stretch of going to bed late and getting up early.  I was exhausted. I wanted to sleep.  There was nothing in the world I wanted more.  But I couldn’t.  Because my stupid finger was hurting too bad.  It was throbbing.  It was throbbing like Wiley E. Coyote’s hand throbs after he smashes it with his own ACME Anvil. I couldn’t believe it.  As Zack crawled into the bed with me I felt ridiculous for saying it, but I had to finally tell someone.  I said, “MY FINGER REALLY HURTS.” Just like that, verbal caps-lock and everything.  He grunted his understanding in my direction; the grunting did not make my finger feel better.  I was frantically wondering where the end of this upward spike in pain would be.  At first it didn’t hurt, then it hurt a little bit, and how it hurts like the damn dickens — so what’s next?  Going to the hospital because I sliced off the tip of my finger?  Taking pain relieving medicines because I nicked myself with a craft supply?  The pain trajectory had been backwards, so where would it stop!? CRIPPLING DEATH BY LOPPING? ONLY TIME WILL TELL. 

Luckily, I was really, really tired.  I fell asleep soon after that, despite the ACME throbbing and the limitless pain trajectory.  I’d never been so glad for sleep deprivation. My finger feels much better this morning, thank you.

Outrageous Headline

Just a nugget here– I had to share the most absolutely outrageous News Article title I’ve ever seen in my life: 

To see the original posting, go here.

Thanks to my husband and his unquenchable desire for online news for locating this article and making my day.

The Lifting Fog

I feel like I’m starting to come out of the fog.  Finally*.

Yesterday I spent all day with two old friends of mine, and those two friends introduced me to something that I was previously unaware of.  Sonic has a happy hour.  HALF PRICE.  Seriously.  You can secure yourself 44 ounces of delicious limeade for the small prices of One American Dollar.  How did I never know about this before?  Do you have any idea how potent Sonic Limeade’s sadness obliteration abilities are?  Very potent!  All it takes is some sugar, styrofoam and a straw and I am well on my way to being my old self again.  Happiness for $1.00.  You can’t beat that with a stick. You know what else you can get for $1.00?  A movie.  Between Sonic’s Limeades and The Red Box’s rentals, I have been a dollar-loving fool for the past two weeks.  That’s for sure. 

Seriously, though, after 2 weeks of sending out resumes and applying for jobs like it’s going out of style, I have real-live job interviews lined up for Thursday.  Plural, even! Interviews with an ’s’ on the end!  If that’s not cause for an exclamation point, I don’t know what is.  I was starting to feel like some sort of creepy monster that nobody wanted around.  Applying for over 40 jobs (literal number!) and hearing nothing back for half-a-month will make any sane person start to question their value.  I felt like I could have jumped to the Moon when someone called me yesterday to schedule my first interview.  If I’ve learned nothing else throughout this whole ordeal it’s that SarahThe is a better person when she has a long list o’things-to-do, and a reason to get out of the house each day.

*I realize that 2 weeks isn’t a very long time to give myself to recover from the life-blows that I’ve been dealing with over here, but come on.  The best way to deal with things is to trudge forward, right? I’m not suppressing, I promise.

Happy Father’s Day

Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I figured there’d be no better present in the world than me talking about you on my blog

I love you like woah. 

-Wewa