In an imaginary book entitled “How to Write a Blog and Not Have People Hate Your Guts,” there would undoubtedly be a chapter dedicated to the prohibition of false promises.

This imaginary chapter in this imaginary book could easily use my blog as a case study of what not to do.

Take, for example, this quote from my last post, written approximately (*gulp *) three weeks ago: “I have a real, honest-to-goodness, more-than-three-sentences-long post about something other than photography coming soon, I promise.”

Ooh, there it is; the “P” word; and I don’t mean “photography.” Mom always taught me not to promise anything I couldn’t be 100% sure of delivering. I guess that lesson hasn’t quite sunk in yet.

So, look for a new post… someday. About something.

If you’re lucky.

I have a real, honest-to-goodness, more-than-three-sentences-long post about something other than photography coming soon, I promise.

But in the meantime… I finally posted some highlights from Sarah and Zeb’s wedding. So go check ‘em out!

(WARNING: This post contains a picture that might make you throw up a little bit in your mouth.)

… I will go the extra mile. I will throw myself into the effort of getting that perfect shot.

Sometimes more literally than others.

It’s funny how, when one is so focused on capturing the perfect shot of the bride and groom leaving the building, one can completely miss the existence of a step down from the sidewalk to the driveway.

It’s also funny how, when such a moment of neglect occurs, the sidewalk can decide to take a chunk out of one’s knee as a keepsake.

See? It’s pretty:

I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want to see that. But you know what? I didn’t really want to fall down those steps and rip my black pants that I payed $26.50 for at Old Navy. I know exactly how much I paid for them because the receipt for them is still sitting on my desk—because I bought them last week.

But, as I told all of the concerned onlookers at the time of the incident, at least my camera was fine. As long as my camera was alright, I was alright.

In case you haven’t been keeping track, I am developing quite a knack for falling down while carrying expensive equipment. And you’ll notice—none of the equipment has been damaged YET. So, to anyone out there who might have been thinking about lending me their expensive camera equipment: BE ENCOURAGED. I will die before it will.

But if you’re thinking about lending me pants? Um… Not so much.

P.S. I should mention the fact that this wound was acquired at the amazing Friday the 13th wedding of two dear acquaintances who are some of the most truly awesome people I know. So it was for a good cause.

Would you like to see the very best picture I took at that wedding I told you about? Wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you? You would?

Okay, here it is:

Obviously, I am joking. This picture cannot possibly be the best picture that I took at that wedding, because it is a picture of a slug. Granted, it might be a nice picture of a slug, but it is still a slug. If this was the best picture I took at a wedding, I would not let the bride and groom pay me. (Unless they really loved slugs or something.)

No, no, I have very many much more lovely pictures from Zeb and Sarah’s wedding—photos that they have not yet been able to see, even though I promised to deliver them last Monday.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “Erin, isn’t that highly irresponsible and unprofessional of you to be late with a couple’s wedding photos?” And the answer is, “Yes, it is.”

However, this brings me to a fun little story called, “Backing up your data will make your bones stronger and your eyes more vibrant and your teeth whiter—also, it will save your life and prevent you from looking unprofessional in front of the entire world.”

Now, before anybody freaks out, I should mention the fact that I have fastidiously backed up the originals of every single wedding I have shot. Never, at any point in this story, were the originals from Zeb and Sarah’s wedding in danger. So that’s one teeny-weeny sigh of relief.

Unfortunately, there are other things you can lose in the event of a disaster, such as, oh… three+ days of work on processing photos. You see, Adobe Lightroom, as wonderful of a program as it is, has this little thing—it doesn’t like its catalog to be messed with. It is very particular about how it reads the data held in its catalog (meaning all the alterations I have made to any photos within Lightroom), and if it gets bumped into or jostled, well… it gets… moody.

And that is exactly what happened on Monday afternoon when my computer, just as I had finished my work in Lightroom and was moving into Photoshop, rebooted itself for no apparent reason. This is just the sort of jostling that makes Lightroom grumpy—so naturally, when my computer came back on it stomped off into a corner and refused to speak to its catalog anymore.

This is the point in the story at which I had to lie on my bed for half an hour with a hot pack on my forehead in order not to hyperventilate. But after I got done doing that, Dad and I poked around online to see if there was any way we could talk Lightroom back into showing me the edits I had made to my photos.

What we found was a savior—a man who works at Adobe and who had offered to take in people’s injured Lightroom catalogs and show them how to reconcile themselves with the program. By the end of the evening, he had emailed me back my catalog, right as rain. Unfortunately, though, I had lost the whole rest of my day to this adventure; and seeing as today and yesterday and the day before were all already filled with plans, this rebooting incident has set me back considerably on Zeb and Sarah’s photos.

So, kids, as you can probably already guess, the moral of the story is: BACK UP, BACK UP, BACK UP. I know you don’t want to; DO IT ANYWAY. And after you’ve finished backing up? BACK UP AGAIN. Because you never know when one of your programs is going to throw in the towel.

The end.

One more thing… here’s a little story that I hope will make you giggle as much as it made me:

I just recently ordered some test prints from this company, because I am planning on using them to fulfill print orders for my clients.

The UPS tracking information said that they were supposed to arrive yesterday afternoon. The UPS truck often does not reach our house until late, though, so I knew I probably had a wait ahead of me.

At one point in the afternoon, I wandered listlessly by my Dad’s doorway and, looking for all the world like I was horribly distraught, sighed, “Dad… I really wish my prints would come.”

…

Then, as I heard the words replayed in my head, I laughed and groaned, “Not like that!”

Dad just looked amused and said, “Someday, someday.”

(P.S. All kidding aside, the prints are awesome. I’m really excited to offer these to my clients.)

Dear Boston: See these people?

You might recognize them. They flew in over your borders early Monday morning; I thought I should let you know that they’re going to be with you for a while.

That one on the right is my brother. He graduated from Gutenberg several years ago, and so did his wife; that’s her on the left. He always wanted to go to grad school, but he had a few things to do in the meantime. Now, though, he’s going for a PhD in Philosophy and an MA in Classics—which should set him up perfectly to come back and teach at Gutenberg. Which is great. The only catch is, he had to go to… well, to you to do it. And you are just a little farther away from Oregon than any five-year program which my brother is attending should be.

So take a good long look at them, because I have a very important job for you. I need you to take care of these two. I want you to make sure that they are fed, clothed, educated, encouraged—make them at home, but not too at home; comfortable, but not too comfortable. (After all, we do want them to make their way back over here at some point.) Make sure that Brian does well in school and that Melanie finds a job she likes—and make sure that they both can feel the motherly, fatherly, and sisterly love emanating from this little house on the other side of the country.

Oh, and, Boston? You just received a couple of first class folks. I hope you know that.

Sincerely,

Erin

(This post contains a BIG spoiler for the Star Wars novel Sacrifice. You’ve been warned.)

I know, I know.

Star Wars is not real. Mara Jade is a fictional character. Authors have a right to do what they will with their fictional characters. Yada yada yada…

But… do you even know how many hours I put into this website? Do you know how many more hours I spent longing to be Mara Jade? Or at least to meet her? Yeah, I thought not.

So, what do you think they did in the latest Star Wars novel? They killed her off!

Never mind the fact that I have not read a single Star Wars novel or spent more than thirty seconds thinking about Mara Jade for the last four years; I am still taking this personally. I wish there was some way I could rectify this horrible atrocity—but it seems the deed has been done, so all I can really say is…

… Mara lives, folks. MARA LIVES.

Wow. My freshman year is over. I’m a sophomore now. How on earth did that happen?

I don’t believe I have any poignant observations to make about this year’s passing that didn’t come spilling out in my last entry. Suffice it to say, it came and went more quickly than I would have thought possible—and my surroundings have changed so dramatically from two weeks ago that I’m having a hard time calling up the details of my life for the last nine months. It was a relief to see a couple of girls from my class at a small social gathering last week; their presence reassured me that this whole thing hasn’t been a bizarrely-detailed dream.

As I observed at the end of last school year, summer always sneaks up on me and then rushes by before I’ve had a chance to properly enjoy it. But at least, as I head into this summer, I already feel like it is practically over; this either means that I’m finally becoming more realistic, or that summers are getting even shorter. I guess we’ll see.

Part of my increasingly fatal practicality is the realization that summer ‘to-do’ lists rarely get ‘to-done’. But because I would hate to let that long-time optimist living inside of me die for good (that was sarcasm), I’m going to make one anyway. Here, to keep me accountable (and to give you an idea of what I’m up to if I’m not posting here) are some of my goals for the summer:

• Once again, I need to make some money. Quite a bit of money, actually; I want to cover as much of next year’s rent as I can before the school year starts. My primary source of income will still be my anonymous retail location, but I have several photography jobs lined up as well.
• As a corollary to that, I would like to develop my photography business further. I have already taken steps towards this—especially to improve my post-processing capabilities. More on this later. (Maybe.)
• We all know what very important book is coming out on July 21st, right? RIGHT? My goal is to read all six Harry Potter books in a row before the seventh and final book is released.
• As loathe as I am to contemplate schoolwork at the moment, I suppose I ought to practice my Greek a little bit—I’d hate to lose my whole first year over the summer.
• I want—no, I am going to build a bookcase. After expressing my desire to buy an unfinished bookcase and paint it up for my room at Gutenberg next year, Dad suggested that I just build one. That sounded pretty exciting, so with my Dad’s help, I’m going to do just that this summer. I’ll keep you posted on its progress.
• If you ask me, Lylium.org could use a little freshening up. It’s been almost a year since I unveiled the current design, and although I love it, feel that a nip here and a tuck there could help me set the site’s design perfectly in alignment with its evolving purpose and style. Wish me luck on that.
• Oh, and… I should probably finish moving into my Parents’ house before it’s time to move out again. (My mom just almost had a heart attack when she read that—my boxes of crap are currently lining all of our tiny houses’ hallways—just kidding, Mom! I’ll be done in a few days! )

So. There are some of my possibly-underwhelming-but-quite-a-relief-from-the-school-year plans for the summer. What about you? Are you doing anything exciting this summer? Let’s hear about it.

My roommate moved out today. She packed up her clothes and her books and the netting that hung above her bed; she put them in boxes and loaded them into the truck that carried her home—and with her, she took more than half the life away from our little basement room.

Her departure was a visceral reminder that my mind has been so focused on the details of this final and that paper that I have been totally oblivious to my first year of college slipping out from under my feet.

But here it goes—there it went. This time next week, I will be back on my growing-up end of town, spending time with my friend Savanna and processing photos and going to work at my anonymous retail location—and, most likely, I will be missing school.

I guess what I’m trying to say is—I need to appreciate what I have while I have it. Because as much as I would love to fast forward past my studying and my paper-writing, there’s so much in these days to appreciate: the lovely evening air that’s blowing in these windows; the familiar, beloved faces buried in their books just like me; even the pressure of having to make myself work—these moments are blessings. Life is thick with them, and they are thick with life.

And they are slipping by faster than I possibly could have imagined.

Finals week has me in its grip right now, so I don’t really have time for words. I just wanted to share this photo, taken a few weeks ago on a brief jaunt to the river, which has been gracing my desktop and making me giggle ever since:

I think this shot sums me and my friends up pretty well.

I vividly remember the afternoon this past January when I refused to shoot Zeb and Sarah’s wedding.

I had just finished the blood-, sweat-, and tear-ful process of editing and delivering the photos for Dane and Morgan’s wedding while starting a new quarter at school—and in my usual relentlessly all-or-nothing fashion, I had sworn photography off altogether.

“It’s too stressful,” I told anyone who would listen, “I can’t do it and school at the same time! I might as well give up!”

And that’s when my sister-in-law Melanie let me know that she had just given her friend Sarah my number. Sarah was getting married in June—I knew what that meant. And what’s worse, her wedding was right before finals week. “No ma’am, no way, no how!” I told Melanie. I was good and done with shooting weddings.

And then my phone rang. It was Sarah. I answered, fully prepared to deliver the bad news. “I’m sorry, Sarah,” I could hear myself saying, “But you’ll just have to find someone else.”

Ten minutes later, I walked back into the room where Melanie sat with my head hung low. I threw myself into a chair opposite her and, as she looked at me expectantly, I muttered, “Well, goshdarnit, I said yes.”

Turns out I can’t give up on something that I love as much as photography quite that easily—as soon as Sarah started talking about the plans she had and how excited she was and the kind of photography she wanted, well, wouldn’t you know it—I couldn’t imagine giving up the opportunity to be a part of that day.

And the rest is history… or will be, soon. I had a blast shooting an engagement session with Sarah and her fiance Zeb in February (you can view a slideshow of that by clicking here or on the photo above), and am stoked to shoot their wedding two days from now.

And yes, I’m beginning to remember how insane shooting a wedding right before finals week is—but if life has taught me anything, it’s that a little insanity never hurt anyone. Right?