My parents gave me a Polaroid camera on my 13th birthday. It was exhilarating. I took endless pictures of friends, outings and tween-induced costumes with the push of a single button and watched anxiously as the white film disappeared into a colorful, captured image right before my eyes. It was instant gratification. Mostly, that is. Changing film packs, buying new pieces and lugging around the equipment put a slight damper on my growth as a photographer, and soon the array of mishaps outweighed the once beloved gift.