Nineteen.

So as most of you know, I spent my birthday in New York. I was walking along the street at about 4 in the afternoon and this lady comes up to me and says "Excuse me.." I thought she was asking for directions or something (not that I would have any clue where to point her) but she said she was from a street style blog and wanted to know if she could take my picture for the website. I thought I was going to die on the spot. Rewind back about half an hour and I'm at the apartment taking off my make-up and rationalising that even though my hair is oily as all hell, I can probably get away with it for the afternoon. I check the clock and decide that I can fit in a quick dash to Wholefoods (see: best store ever.) to grab an afternoon snack because even though Chase bought me 4 super cute cupcakes, it's my birthday and I'll have 5 lunches if I want to...

So here I am standing on the street looking legitimately homeless, and having just stuffed my face full of food and this chick has decided she likes my jacket. Fuuuu- 

I mean, it's flattering that she liked it and all, but seriously the timing was shitballs. Plus it was about to storm like crazy so I was nearly being blown onto the road while she was taking pictures. Oh well. I'm going to try and not be too critical of myself and post the interview thing here, because it is one of those things that will most likely never happen again. Peace.