With the exception of grocery shopping and outdoor gear and apparel, I am not much of a fan of shopping. But when all you can manage to do all day is cry while listening to The Jackson 5, shopping is the perfect cure.

Though it was just what the doctor ordered, I still don’t like shopping, so I only browsed two stores today… but I scored big. I bought an entire outfit (jeans, shirt, and sweater) for only $44 at Banana Republic. Oh yes, I am a master.

I guess I haven’t lost my touch. In college, I had to put together a two-page spread for a magazine on my amazing thrift store shopping skills. I threw together uber-awesome entire outfits (shoes and accessories included) for guys and girls for like ten bucks a pop. Oh yes, once a master, always a master. I would shock and awe you with some of the deals I’ve scored, everything from ski pants to Patagucci jackets. And I mean, hello, I am the girl who scored $1,100 worth of free LaSportiva shoes.

For my own personal shopping, the secret is in being little. I have little feet, and can buy the exact pair of shoes in kids as I can in women’s for half the price. Or I can score big on the women’s clearance rack since all that ever makes it on them are the shoes for the littlefoots and the bigfoots. Same goes for clothes. All that’s ever left are the size twos and the extra smalls (or the XXLs), which tend to fit me about half the time. Such was the case with the orange shirt I bought today. All they had were extra smalls, like five of them… all $3.99, regularly $25. Deal!

Anyway, I love my new outfit. About 95% of the time, I think jeans are horribly gross… but these ones didn’t look half bad on me, and I need some jeans for my new job. Since I’ll be romping around in the dirt all day, every day, my standard non-jeans just won’t really suffice. I’ve tried it. I need jeans. So I sucked it up and bought some… but I still hate jeans… and shopping. I’m just really good at it.

Earlier today, Chris and I broke up for what is likely to be the last time. For a year and a half, we have held onto our relationship, continuously on again, off again, and everything in between. I’ve lost count now of how many times we’ve done this, but it still hurts because it’s never been a matter of us not getting along, but rather a matter of distance. We live in different places, we’re doing different things, and no matter how hard we try to make it work, the distance always gets in the way, even when we’re sitting next to each other. With only four hours between us for the past year, it has been relatively easy to make the drive and spend a weekend together… but now that I am moving away yet again, the same cannot be said. True, if we really wanted to keep it going, we probably could, but the fact of the matter is that moving an extra five hours away isn’t really making it any harder to maintain, it’s simply making it easier to let go. And we have to let go, because as great as we are when we’re together, we just don’t work the same when we’re apart.

So now I sit here, numb and puffy-eyed, after saying goodbye to the only person I’ve ever loved, who has seen me at my absolute best, my absolute worst, and loved me regardless. He’s my best friend, the only person I am ever really myself around, and as much as he pisses me off, I love him ten times more. It is killing me to let go, to walk away, but I made the choice to move away again. I can’t stop crying, but I know in time it won’t hurt like this… and that life will go on, just like it always does.

Roommates are out of town this week, so Dog had to accompany me on a quick little road trip to southern Utah. We had been bonding a lot this week (wrestling matches, playing fetch, snuggling), but after 650 miles in a car together in just over 24 hours, we are pretty much inseparable. And now, as neurotic and psychotic as she is, I am going to miss her more than I ever thought I would.

So after my last day on Friday, I celebrated with a few friends I will miss dearly when I move. Alcohol was involved, as is quite apparent by the following photos. Massive amounts of fun ensue, but I remember why it is I drink so rarely. Fun as it is, I make an ass out of myself and I lose crap. Not only did I interrogate a poor bar employee, tell a former love interest he had a mustache I’m not sure he had, and dance like a neurotic penguin, but I also lost my phone, my jacket, and my keys… all separately. I’m a winner, what can I say? I’ll think I’ll stick with water for a while. But it was fun, and one thing is for sure, I will definitely miss these girls…

Done, done, and done! Today was my last day of work, and let me tell you, I am glad it’s over. The past few months have been going really well, but today I remembered why it is I wanted to leave in the first place. I was warned before I even started why everyone leaves. And just a few weeks in, I knew that when I quit, it would be for the same reason. It is really no coincidence that I am the third person to leave the department in the past six weeks. Although I actually quit because I got a much better job, I’ve known for quite a while that I wanted to leave eventually (and sooner rather than later)… for the same reason as everyone else. That reason hasn’t really been an issue lately, but today, as I was leaving, reared its nasty head.

I am not going to take harsh words personally. Some people just resort to it because it’s all they know. I am proud though that I am not one of these people. So as much as I could have said in return, I stood there silently, taking a verbal beating that is completely unfounded, and then I smiled, said thanks, and walked out. I know the goal was to make me feel like crap, like a horrible person, to make me cry, but well, it didn’t work. I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry I quit. I’m not sorry I only gave two weeks notice. I’m not sorry I only stayed 11 months and two weeks instead of a whole year. I’m not sorry you have to go through the hassle of hiring someone new. I’m not sorry I’m taking a job no one can deny is perfect for me. I’m not sorry I’ll be working for a cause I whole-heartedly believe in. I’m not sorry I’ll be making more money, traveling the world. I’m not sorry I’m taking a job that values their employees. I’m not sorry I quit a job that tells me I just need to get used to “get used to it.” I’m not sorry I value my life over my job. I’m not sorry I always stood up for myself and my photos. I’m not sorry you gave me raises to try and buy me off. And I’m not sorry you can’t make me cry, no matter how many horrible things you say to me about what a horrible person I am. There are things I am sorry for, but quitting this job is not one of them, especially after this afternoon.

And now… it’s time to celebrate.

As many times as I have been hurt in my life, hurt this year, tonight I took a serious blow - one that tests my ability to trust the good in people, to have faith in what the future holds for me, to remain optimistic throughout it all. Despite everything bad I have experienced in my life, I take pride in the fact that I have always managed to see the good in the bad, that my optimism is unwavering. But right now, I’m struggling to find a way to turn this one around. I’m struggling to find a lesson I can learn so that this doesn’t happen again when it really matters. And I’m not sure that I can. The only thing I can tell myself is that I can’t be afraid, that I am strong, that I am a woman of dignity, and that I cannot, will not, let anyone threaten that.

At the time of this blog post, I have received 22 applications from people eager to take my job. With every application I am impressed more and more by the quality of photos I see. However, the same cannot be said of the quality of the application itself.

I do not understand how people expect to get jobs sending in the stuff they do. Every one of these people is an amazing photographer (though newspapers might not be the right place for some of them)… however, as I said before, photos are not enough. We judge you on everything. Can you put together a coherent sentence? Can you show me any personality? Can you give me any reason, any reason at all, why anyone at the Park Record would want to work with you? Guess not. Most of the applications I’ve received are just mind-numbing. Besides completely lacking personality, they are chocked full of grammatical and spelling errors. Now tell me please, how does one expect to work for a newspaper if they can’t even proofread their own job application? And don’t even get me started on the whole copy/paste thing. I’ve seen at least five applications where the writer couldn’t even type out the ten letters of the paper’s name and instead chose to copy and paste it from the job posting. I know this because it’s IN A DIFFERENT FONT.

Despite the plethora of what I call “crap apps,” five of the 22 applicants have received gold stars from me… for having lovely photos and a personality to match. Sadly, of these five, I currently feel only two are in the running for the title. But all that may change. Besides the fact that it is not my decision to make, more and more people are applying, upping the ante if you will. If you want this job, you’re gonna have to up your game, son. This is a very competitive field, son. You gotta impress me with your wit and charm. You gotta stand out. I may not do the hiring, but I am the filter. And unless you get the gold star from me, you’re probably not going to make it to the next round.

So now we begin the search for my replacement at the paper. Had a few contacts through word of mouth, but today, the job was finally posted on the NPPA. Let the storm begin.

Now, should any potential job-seekers Google me or Scott and find this here blog, I have a few words of advice.

1. Do not send me your generic cover letter with our paper name pasted into it.
2. I know you really want a job (and will potentially take anything), but we don’t want someone who just wants any job. We want someone who wants this job.
3. Tell us why you want this job (and not just because you are a good photographer… you are all good photographers). Be honest.

I was on the phone with the national chairman when he posted the job. I know precisely when it was posted. So I also know how long it took people to email in their materials. And I got three hits in about an hour. Now, all this tells me is that you pasted our name into your letter and shipped ‘er off within five minutes of seeing the job posting. All this tells me is you put in no effort. However, even within these three speedy applications, there is amazing talent. They aren’t excluded, but time and effort into an application is much more important than the quality of photos. We aren’t looking for the best photographer. We are looking for the right photographer.

So please, if you are applying to this job, or to any other, take the time, make it special, make yourself remembered. Besides, you will be better off taking a job that really is a good fit for you than just taking any job that opens up.

Insomnia is taking hold. I’m not sure what is going on lately, but I do not like it. I was thrilled last night because I felt like I would actually sleep well… and well, I did… for a few hours. Then I woke up at 3 a.m., wide awake. Now it is 4 a.m. and I’m not sure what to do at 4 a.m. on a Friday morning other than bitch about how I am awake at 4 a.m. on a Friday morning. So there you have it. Random thoughts, episode two.

I got my flu shot today. It was infinitely less scary than I imagined. I imagined I would start convulsing minutes after receiving the shot, my face would explode into blisters within an hour, and by the time night rolled around, my arm would be covered in gangrene and I would lose all feeling until it was time for amputation. And well, it is merely but a little sore at the sight of puncture, and I can handle that. But I’m still waiting for the creepy-crawlies to ooze out of the hole and kill me in my sleep.

I can’t wait to move into a new place so I can deck it out with houseplants.

I met a lady the other night who hyphenated her last name with a slash. Is that weird? I think that is weird. However, I like weird. In this format, if I married Dr. Dolittle, my name could potentially be Sarah Ause/Doolittle. I think I like hyphens better.

I just love it when reporters give you the wrong time for a shoot, so you show up an hour and a half early, have nothing to do in the meantime, show up again to find the most boring photo assignment ever, then realize reporter is not even coming, then find yourself unable to leave until 8:30, extending your work day almost three hours longer than you expected. Thanks reporter! Well, I suppose I could have left earlier, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it because I didn’t want to hurt the feelings of the darling little old ladies who were occupying my time. I figured I could go home and do nothing (web codery is still on hiatus)… or I could sit around with little old ladies and do nothing. I figured sitting around with them wasn’t doing me any harm. I had nothing else to do. They were darling ladies and I was happy to spend my Thursday night with them (even if it took me a little while to realize it). Reporter still owes me a beer though.

I also knocked out my last-ever question of the week. Oh my god, it’s really over. Hallelujah!

I bought some Normans from the D-News. Huzzah for nice light… even if the light is older than I am.

Oooh! Oooh!

I met the greatest Italian guy ever today. I’m a vegetarian and he is a sausage-maker, but I very much admire what he does and why he does it. Cristiano, I hope you get your family here soon.

Cats temporarily taken off execution list. They are being sweet. I still have to sleep with earplugs in though. But well, I guess I’m not sleeping much anyway.

TGIF!

Olympic Lindsey is back in town for two weeks and we’re getting dinner tonight. Now I am moving away, but I think I will try to visit Park City when she visits Park City, so our newly-resumed friendship can remain intact.

I’m smiling right now because I am in love with the fact that I am forever done with the question of the week.

When I move, I will not miss my roommates cats, at all. I will, however, miss the crazy dog. But actually, I probably won’t after I have to spend an entire week with her by myself over Thanksgiving. Let’s hope we do not repeat what happened last time. We might take a road trip this time.

Now I think it’s time to try to sleep again. But I don’t think it will happen. What on Earth is going on? I blame the flu shot. If I die in my sleep, know that I love you all (and please sue somebody).

I swear, if one more freakin’ person I know gets married or engaged, I am going to scream… scream until my lungs fall out.

Fifty-five years ago today, my dad entered this Earth. Unfortunately, he departed it over 10 years ago and will not be celebrating with us today. I, however, will. Let there be cake!

I’m afraid to get my flu shot today. I am more afraid of not getting it though. Last year killed me.

I hate my cats more than anything right now. I also love them more than anything.

If I don’t start sleeping again soon, I’m going to scream. I’ve barely slept the past three nights, despite being deathly tired.

Out of fear of becoming permanently brain-damaged, web-codery of this site has been postponed until I regrow brain cells.

Reporters gave me five assignments tonight, all taking place between the hours of 5:30 and 7:30. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! I did four.

This week is the last time I will ever have to do the question of the week. Oh my god, tears of joy.

I really, really need to sleep… but I can’t. What is wrong with me?

If I drive by him or him one more time this week, I am going to scream.

OH MY GOD, KILL MY CATS.

It’s November with no snow. I will laugh if Brian Head gets more snow than Park City this year. I’m sure it won’t, but I hope it does. Just so I can say “TAKE THAT PARK CITY!”

I can’t wait to start my new job. I can’t wait to be done with my current job (though it’s been really good lately and I’m afraid I’ll miss it more than I think).

I’m going to try to sleep now… unsuccessfully, I’m sure.

Well, well, well, what have we here? We have a brand new site that is very much under construction. Last night, I decided I should switch my site’s host from GoDaddy to Bluehost so that I could try my hand at Wordpress (GoDaddy cannot support it). It has been a royal pain in the ass, but I’ve managed to do all that you see here in just a few short hours. Lots of trial and error. Well, ALL trial and error. I am constantly breaking the site, and then fixing it, and then breaking it again… so if you happen to catch this while it’s actually working, be warned it might not work on your next return. Give me some time. PHP + CSS + XML = Sarah has a headache. This is my brain on CSS…

I’m trying to get a basic structure set up, and will change the look as I feel appropriate… or well, change the look as much as my severely gimpy coding skills will allow. I miss the light-heartedness of my old design, and will attempt to restructure that feel here in the very near future. Anyway, I am doing all this nerd-webbery from my brand-new computer… which is unbelievably faster than my dying Powerbook (even though this is but a mere mortal of a Macbook). Well, actually I’m working off both, and I can’t tell you how nerdy it feels to be computerizing this site from two computers simultaneously. It goes faster though, and that is such a good thing, because really, just shoot me now.

Got a new computer the other day. PhotoBooth provides endless entertainment. You can check out the whole (quite frightening) collection here. Enjoy. I know I did.

Anyone who knows me knows I love animals. As the daughter of a mustang trainer, it is only natural. I’ve had so many animals in my life that I’ve lost count. I was a PETA member at age 12. By 13, I was boycotting all the bad companies and was the only vegetarian in school. I wrote all my reports and gave all my speeches on animal rights. Even into college, animals still had a way of making their way into my schoolwork (though more often in humorous ways). Once graduated, I applied to half my internships with a portfolio of nothing but animals. It was risky, but always paid off. And because of this, editors have always known to give me the assignments pertaining to animals. In a nutshell, animals have always been a huge part of my life.

So as shocking as it may be, it should really come as no surprise to anyone - my friends and family, old teachers and coworkers - that I have quit my job at the newspaper to go work for a non-profit animal rescue organization. Say what?! Bet you didn’t see that one coming.

Don’t go too crazy just yet. I am still a photographer, still a journalist (this I will always be). I am just trading in some human subjects for a few more animal ones. I’ll be shooting for a magazine (the nation’s largest animal one), traveling the country (and the world) documenting incredible rescues and inspiring stories, and just hanging out at the 33,000-acre sanctuary with nearly 2,000 amazing animals (and about 400 amazing people).

I won’t lie, I am scared. I am scared out of my mind to leave my life here behind, but I feel there are so many more reasons for me to go than for me to stay. And so, in the coming weeks, I will pack my things and head south to start my new life, yet again. New adventures await me. The animals need me.

Here are just a small few (yet still a lot) of photos from my first visit to my new job.