Wednesday, December 19, 2001

Well, I have come to the shocking discovery that I am not unemployed. I am self-employed. I actually now have my own FedEX account. Scary. I have four jobs, and I have not had a day off in ten days.

Also, I bought a coupon holder. I have a dog, a coupon holder and a FedEX account. Does this mean I am officially a grown up? I don't know. I don't think so. I think I will really be a grown up when I no longer live with my parents.

About that, though.... I have since come to a tentative peace with that. I am so busy working at my four jobs and searching for a fifth and eventually only one that I sometimes go days without seeing them. Also, food just appears in the refrigerator without any expense or effort on my part, which is nice. And someday, God forbid, when my parents are gone, I think I will feel very, very lucky that I had this time with them.

The thing about being self-employed is that I hate charging people for my work. I wish i could just give my work away for free or barter for it. I hate money. It's so hard. But seriously, I have to "get my bitch on," as Best Reporter Ever Michele would say. Seriously, I figured out what I will end up making an hour after all is said and done for this very big job that I am doing for not much money. It works out to $.75 an hour. Frankly, I could make more working for Nike in Indonesia. Of course, I had a childhood, and I can take bathroom breaks whenever I want, so ultimately I have the better deal.

Tomorrow is a scary, scary day where I go to Philadelphia and meet with the senior photo editor of the AP in Philly who will tell me whether i did a good job on my first assignment. He wants to see the entire take, as I mentioned before. For you non-photo types, having someone look at the entire take of your shoot- your contact sheets or negatives or digital thumbnails- is like being naked, whereas showing someone the final edit- which is all cropped and color corrected and dodged and burned- is like wearing your most flattering dress with control top pantyhose. Sorry, men, that illustration may not be too useful for you, but you catch my drift.

Also, I have a meeting with a very big, top notch wedding photographer in Philadelphia who hired me via a friend of mine (who I just realized won a Pulitzer in 1999, which makes him a much more intimidating person- he's not even 30) for this Saturday, and if it goes well, she says she may give me work on a regular basis. I don't even want to be a wedding photographer, (as a career), but she has a fashion background, and I will learn a lot of from working with her, and all of this is making me a much more well-rounded shooter, but she is very scary. I just have a lot of pressure in my life right now. I am working under stressful conditions.

Anyone (that is, Jason) want to go out for drink tomorrow night to either celebrate my survival or drown my sorrows? :)

I will be grateful for the holiday. YAY! All of you lovely Old Friends coming into town. I can't wait to see all of you! I will be out of town this Saturday, but other than that, you can reach me on my cell phone or at home. La la la!

Oh, and there was some confusion about my entry on 12/13/01. Some people read it and interpreted that Stephen and I broke up. But as you probably deduced from the entry on the next day, we are getting along beautifully. The ex-boyfriend I was referring to was the groom of the wedding, an ex from a long time ago. When I said "so-called 'boyfriend' of three years" I meant that if Stephen got lost and didn't show, then people would think I was making him up. When I referred to myself as the "lonely, fat, sad ex-girlfriend," the exgirlfriend status applies to my relationship with the groom. This message has been brought to you by the Clarification Committee. :)

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