.10

It's over.

We broke up.

And strangely, I feel alright.

Not as normal as I usually do, but like everything is going to be okay.

I explained to Seth that I didn't like how we couldn't talk.

He agreed.

I said he talked to Savannah just fine.

He said we were growing apart. 

I agreed.

We parted ways mutually and I would like to say, someday, we could be friends. But that day isn't today. He told me to call him once I was ready. 

I laughed and said, "Not a chance."

I have more important things to worry about-- like my upcoming internship interview.

.09

Em says the magazine she works for needs interns, including an open spot as assistant to their fashion photographer. Can 26 year olds even be interns anymore? Don't they have to be like, 19?

I want it, though.

Time to freshen up my portfolio.

.08

I was hired to take pictures at one of those Upper East Side birthday soirées. The guest of honor was turning 13. She yelled at me to take at least 30 pictures of her designer outfit, "and one of them better be good enough for Instagram!"

Her mom organized and controlled the party with all the power of the pentagon, crushing disturbances under her pointy high heels in a millisecond. 

I stayed out of her way.

The birthday girl was given a black diamond bracelet and a walk on role for some Disney Channel TV show. I snapped picture after picture and tried not to throw up my gourmet lettuce wrap.

It was a nice distraction, but I swore I'd be better than 13 year old birthday parties, celebrating rich, bratty kids.

What happened to me?

.07

People don't like rough edges.

They like shiny, prepackaged, perfect people. 

Haven't seen Seth in three days. 

I'm convincing myself I don't care by spending my days getting lost in the city-- watching people without any flaws, taking pictures of dirty things like muddy puddles and leaves all clumped together.