{ The Trappings of Relative Success }

Yes I'm only a lowly intern, unpaid at that, but when the Editor-in-Chief stopped by my desk this morning to congratulate me on having an article on the front page of the entertainment section, I felt pretty damn good.

Basically, my only criteria for summer work each year are that it has to be something to do with journalism and has to be better than the year before. My editorial internship at La Opinion, the biggest Spanish paper in the country, hit the spot on both counts, plus has the added benefit of being in Spanish, which is terrifying and exciting all at the same time.

Yesterday was my first day, and I loved it all: from the view of downtown Los Angeles from the 31st floor to chatting it up in Spanish in the lunchroom to publishing my first article! I only embarrassed myself a couple of times, and awkward moments were few.

Today, however, a man in the elevator saw me push the button for Floor 31, which is dominated by La Opinion's offices, and said, "Are you sure, honey? You don't look like you'd be going to that floor." Another man in the elevator jumped in, jokingly, but with an edge, asking, "What's that supposed to mean?" I pointed to my badge, which says I'm an intern there. The man stammered, "I didn't mean anything by it!" as I left the elevator at my stop. At least the people at the paper have made me feel, so far, that I belong here as much as anyone. I'm excited to see what the rest of this internship brings.


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