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Writing is a fickle thing. Courage and optimism. The courage to be honest and optimism that you’re good enough.
I write for a magazine that sends me to places that make me incredibly uncomfortable. I speak with the owners of restaurants and bars I could never afford. I speak with experts in the beauty field: plastic surgeons, cosmetic dentists, spray tan salons. I speak with people who are living very luxurious lifestyles.
Luxury in the sense of wealth.
Sitting in my rented room in Long Beach with carpet stains and rodents scurrying within the ceiling at night, wealth feels far away. And so when I speak with these people, our conversations feel riddled with distance.
The other day they sent me to the Montage Laguna Beach. I rattled into the valet circle with my 10 year old car. The paint on the hood is chipping. It whines as I turn…
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my dreams my choice
For those of you reading this, I’ve recently had some big changes in my life. I have scored my dream internship. I’ve been thinking of this day since I ws probably 12 (I’m now 21). For 10 weeks, I packed up my life, again, after spending four months in Barcelona, to move to New York City to intern at no place else but Seventeen.com. Let’s just say, the office is every teenage girl’s dream. I let go of any job opportunities for the summer and a paying internship, so let’s just hope this experience is everything and more that I’ve hoped for. So far, so good.
Normally when I create a blog in the past, it is for a specific reason or time of my life. I hope to blog not only about being at Seventeen, but my life and path to self-acceptance.
I’m definitely an individualist, and go against…
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