When I was 20, I lived on a tiny island in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea without a cell phone and with very spotty WiFi. I was too tall, too pale, and too organized to be allowed, yet there I was and there I unexpectedly thrived.
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A week or so ago, my manager approached me with a rather unusual request. Her daughter, a high school senior, had been firmly against senior portraits, but the yearbook (and her mother) needed one and now they were in a bind. They only had a couple of weeks, didn’t have a professional budget, and her daughter was feeling awkward about it.
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