Today was taxing. That was an understatement. It's only been two months in the fashion industry for me, but so far, from what I've seen and observed, it seems that one either inevitably becomes a vapid snob or the resentful underdog. These seem to be the two personalities that I meet over and over again. The world of fashion, though it presents a very glamorous facade, is poorly budgeted (it pays next to nothing unless you are the top dog), extremely competitive, catty, and constantly beats down on your pride, whatever is left of it at the end of a hards day of bitch work as an intern; unpaid. 

I constantly have to remind myself every day, this is what I love. That's why I am here busting my ass. And somehow I need to find some solace somewhere so I do not end up like these people around me. On top of all this nastiness and ugly personalities, I found out some disappoint/discouraging news today. I will be freelancing for my pr firm, but the position that I was vying for, that I was told specifically would be mines, is no longer available. Life is full of these moments, I guess.

So thank goodness for friends, food and good conversations.

It's been a while, so I met up with M for dinner. We went to Salt. We;re alike in that we both like our quiet time and don't really keep in touch on a regular, but we do make an effort to meet up and when we do, its not to 'catch up.' Nothing bores me more than talking to people about what I've been up to and the trivials of my days. It's like the extent of one's relationship is a continual stream of trying to catch up and stay in the loop. No, thank you.

My future is full of uncertainly at the moment. So coincidently dinner talk bordered the subject of free-will and determinism. To which I offer the catch-phrase popularized by Cheney himself, "It is what it is," to answer all that is uncontrollable and unexplainable in life. M called it a cop-out answer. It is if we use it to explain things within our control, like hurting someone's feelings. But as for the future, consequences of our decisions, and natural disasters; It is what it is.

The chicken liver mousse with caramelized onions. I couldn't pass up a chance to try such a strange dish. And our daringness paid off. It was delectable.

M's apartment is right by the Mud cafe shop, also home of the infamous Mud Truck. I ordered a macchiato for the ride back. A real one, not the wimpy tall cup of sugar they serve at Starbucks. This one consisted of 2 expresso shots and very little milk. It provided the kick needed and I went home happy as my cabbie kept telling me about his past relationships, unprovoked. The little charms of New York. I try to soak it up, but the day's ugliness had worn me down to the core.

Thank goodness I have tomorrow off.