Category Archives: It Just Got Personal


Felt cute, might delete later…


Should this be the time I get into the ridiculousness of being afraid to post ugly pictures?


But here’s one I took and couldn’t get over how thick my glasses are. I mean look at that right eye (my right eye, not the eye on the right)! It’s like a poorly photoshopped attempt to make my face look thinner, but I forgot to do the rest of my face!

Anybut….I’m not embarrassed to post the ugly pictures.

And yes, that is a zit on my face. Guess what? They never stop coming! Okay, maybe for some people they do…but don’t be surprised if you still get those little puckers well into your 30s!! (Especially if you’re like me and get stressed easily…they love stress)


I think we need to have a discussion on workloads.

Now, perhaps I’m not the best person to discuss this, but I’ve been witness to so much lately I think it’s time to talk about it.

Many in the older generations like to say the younger generation (and I could go OFF on how annoying it is they lump ALL younger generations together when they say this, but I won’t. This is about workloads) is lazy and doesn’t understand true hard work and blah blah blah…

But here’s something they tend to not consider…just because a generation has moved out of the office doesn’t mean they’re working any less. In fact, BECAUSE they’ve moved out of the office…sorry, not sorry, workload has gone through the roof.

Why? Because jobs treated as unconventional aren’t protected. Most don’t have unions that ensure employees are given proper safety nets. And this leads to overloading workloads.

With minimal pay, or even good pay, but tweaked hours to make it as though the pay weren’t so good. OR tweaked hours to prevent benefits from having to be given out.

Why am I bringing this up? Because I’ve witnessed friends or people I’ve worked with just get swamped. And I mean, 60+ hours a week, swamped. Not to mention any other work they do like side jobs or familial responsibilities. And they are being worn and torn down.

The other thing younger generations are struggling with is the mentality of replaceability. We’re told over and over by different employers or companies that if we won’t do the job they’ll find someone who will so we get it in our mindset that we can’t bring up ANY complaints.


But there are times when it should be obvious you can’t have people work this way…but then you have to remember that’s not what they care about. Results. They always care about results, not how they get to the results.

There’s this strange inability to lay down boundaries for ourselves. And with the growing difficulty of costs of living increasing as wages stay the same, we become trapped in the mindset of “You can’t risk losing this job, you can’t afford to live without it.”

Then we get injured or sick from overworking. From over performing without added benefits or employers forcing you to just tweak the actual hours you worked. Which then leads to missed work days, which leads to added workloads to recover the lost time. Which leads to more illness and injury.

Eventually, the tipping point is reached and a blow out happens.

And unfortunately, it’s the overworked employee who is given the death blow. Fired or gently nudged towards quitting. And the employer hires a new, fresh face to start the cycle over.

Sorry for such a downer post. I’ll try something more positive next time.


College Love…Nah.

I thought about somebody I haven’t thought about in over 6 years.

My college career was average. Normal. But one odd thing kept happening.

Now, there were a few GE programs I was required to fulfill. This meant a short list of classes to choose from to fulfill these requirements.

Almost every single class I chose to take…there was another student (I’ll call him Jack though that is obviously not his name) who took them, too. And I mean, every single class except for 2 (yes, I know that means not ACTUALLY every single class, but cut me some slack here. I’m being dramatic for storytelling sake).

Anybut, Jack noticed this pattern, too….I think….I mean he always went out of his way to sit next to me because he recognized me from the other numerous classes we took together.

Now I was a Theater Major. Jack was a Business Major. We should never have crossed paths. But we kept picking the same GE classes, as in we kept picking classes that we wanted to take, had interests in taking.

I hope you see where this is going.

Needless to say….I got a crush on this guy, Jack.

He was sweet. He was funny. He liked hearing about my theater classes. And he ACTIVELY sat next to me in these classes. If you read any of my other posts I hope you’ve been able to grasp the fact that I am the most awkward, shy, weirdo ever to be allowed to grow to an adult age. I don’t actively do anything. My preference is to sit in the back so nobody will talk to me….but he always found me and sat next to me.

“You’re reading too much into it. Of course he sat next to you if he remembered you from other classes. Humans are attracted (not in the romantic way) to familiarity. You were familiar therefore he felt more comfortable sitting next to you.”

Okay. Maybe.

BUT! Does that explain this thing that happened:

Context: I was a theater major. Duh. But there was also the student group within the theater department and my senior year the group wanted to do more across the campus activities to promote the theater department or promote other things.

One of these things was a campaign against smoking…cliche I know. Anybut, we created large cigarettes that we would carry around to our classes and if people asked us about the eye sores we had scritps to recite back to them in an attempt to educate on cancer, life expectancy, and other smoking facts. Then we would ask them to sign the cigarette with a kind of declaration of dedication to not start smoking or cut down on their smoking.

I carried that stupid cigarette all day. The only person who ever asked about it was Jack. I did the stupid little spiel. I asked if he wanted to sign his intention to never smoke. He to my surprise, agreed. When I got my cigarette back…he’d also written his phone number.

Yes. His phone number.

Here comes the heartbreaker. This happened my senior year. It was also this year in the very class this incident happened in…..that I found out he was married. He’d been married for almost 2 years…his wife was still back where he was from, planning to move out here to California at the end of the year.

This may be needless to say, but I’m going to say this twice. After finding out this information: I immediately turned off. ONCE I FOUND OUT HE WAS MARRIED I IMMEDIATELY TURNED OFF. What does that mean? It means any feelings I felt for him were shoved down beneath so many layers of reality there was no more flirting and there was very little casual talk outside of those required for class.

Is this an overreaction? Maybe. But quite frankly, there was no way I was going to continue anything with a married man who actively gave me his phone number and not in a “we’re in a group project” way. Maybe we could’ve been friends. Maybe we could’ve been friendly without any inference of romantic feelings…but there was also the possibility we couldn’t do any of those things.

Though I did keep that cigarette in the back of my closet for several years. I mean he was really cute….but I’m not going to be that girl.

I threw that cigarette away two years after that event. I never put the number in my phone. I never wrote it down anywhere else. I never considered calling it.

I kept it as a reminder of that guy in college I had a class with every semester. And that I let him go.

And though I’ve been calling him Jack to protect his anonymity….it’s honestly because I don’t remember his name anymore. I don’t even know what triggered the sudden memory of him. I haven’t thought about him since I threw away that cigarette 6 years ago.

Respond and Run

Does anybody else….

When you get a message and you’re unsure what to say…I mean like REALLY unsure what to say (like you go through twenty different iterations of what you want to say)….when you finally DO respond, you immediately run away?

Now I don’t mean literally, of course. I mean if, let’s say, you respond to something on Twitter or Facebook…you immediately log out of your account because you need to mentally prepare yourself for the response to your response.

OR if it’s like a text message with friends, you actively make sure you put the phone FACE DOWN on the table or desk or bed or whatever!

I ask because…I do all the time. Hell, I did it right before writing this post.

I mean, I end up reading the response to my response anyways, but I need that small buffer time. In person I’m incredibly shy…no, really. I am like stupidly shy (and I use stupidly in the sense of overwhelmingly….I guess I could’ve just used overwhelmingly…Annnnnnybut).

You know what I mean? You don’t? I’m just crazy? Ok.

Well, how about this:

Does anybody else, on top of thinking through twenty different responses, after realizing you’ve paused for far too long just…don’t respond?

This happens sometimes with my friends. I’m thinking of my response to something (going through many different iterations as mentioned previously) and when I’m finally satisfied with my response….it’s been almost ten minutes and the conversation has either a) moved on, b) continued on with THEIR lives (my friends, not the conversations obviously), or c) if my response was meant to be a joke or pun or something funny the moment has passed.

I know normal people would simply just respond anyways, but I don’t know if you’ve gathered from other posts….I’m far from normal when it comes to conversations…what with being overwhelmingly shy and all.

This is one of many reasons I try to pre-empt anything that may open me up to strangers messaging me with a notice saying: I’m very bad at responding. Please don’t expect me to be good or quick about it.

I do my best, but sometimes my brain just won’t let me be impulsive when it comes to written communications.


I need to catch up on work…

Not actual job work, but work I promised myself I wouldn’t let slide. Well, that isn’t working out…no pun (?) intended…

I mean, I’ve always been a bit of a slacker or to be more precise last minute worker. As much as I try to not wait to the last minute to do things, the habit has been ingrained in me since, god, elementary school.

And I love hanging out with my friends….I DO!!! But sometimes, it feels like we always plan things right when the stars line up to allow me to get work done. I get the house to myself, it’s the weekend so I don’t have to worry about random knocks on the door…usually, and I feel the wave of slackness leaving (yes it comes in waves).

Then my friends plan things. Sometimes I get enough of a heads up to adjust accordingly….other times….I become a slacker. I put off saying I can’t do it, until it’s like too late or too inappropriate or uncouth to say I can’t do it.

And even if I did….how do you explain to your friends (who have faaaaar more strenuous jobs or actual 9-5, 5 days a week jobs) that you just can’t because of your own failures as an organized human being? Or how do you tell them that you just can’t go spend money on food or fun activities because the paychecks are few and far between and even when I get them….there’s not much left over after the necessities…

How do you let them know you’re ashamed of yourself and don’t talk about your life because you don’t want them to know how much of a downward spiral you feel like you’re on?

…………….Especially when their problems, their life issues…..are actual ones that aren’t because they’re slackers like me?

Laughter Makes the World Go Round…Right?

I have a confession to make.

When I watch videos on YouTube or niche reality shows (Harmon’s Quest, anyone?) I have a secret agenda.

The laughter.

Watching shows or videos where the people are genuinely having fun, making each other laugh, or go through crazy events…the laughter really makes me feel part of it. It makes me feel like I have friends.

Don’t look at me that way…I know the people on the screens aren’t my friends and never will be. AND I KNOW I DO HAVE FRIENDS!!

But there are times my friends…just aren’t into what I am. They don’t like the shows or videos I watch. They don’t understand the appeal of the things that make me feel so included. It’s not their fault. They have things they’re into that I’m not and this is not a diss on them.

And sometimes, I feel alone because I don’t get to see my friends that often anymore……So I put on a stupid little video of two people playing games together and having a fun time…and for a few minutes I feel like I’m not alone. I feel like my friends are there with me.

Always Late

I feel like I’m always late to the newest thing.

I didn’t have a twitter account until 2014 which was looooong after most of the planet. And even after I got one I realized none of my friends really use it anyways. They used Instagram.

So then I got an Instagram account in 2016. And that was really only to document a trip I went on. Eventually I added a second account to document my cats Lele and Midna.

I never got into Vine, but I thought, “this Tik Tok thing looks interesting.” So I got the app, but realized quickly…I was out of my league. So that went away.

I’ve been a fan of YouTube since its beginnings. I watched a lot of the old YouTubers before they became huge…then I stopped watching them once they did. But I always wanted to do it, too. So I created a book review channel back in 2014. It was really part of a New Year’s Resolution to be a little more outgoing. It makes sense if you think about it. You put yourself out in the universe for people to anonymously comment about you. I didn’t even mind the comments sayin my voice was annoying (I’ve always hated how I sounded in recordings so it wasn’t an insult really).

But that wasn’t what I really wanted to do and after one year (which was the resolution btw), I stopped uploading reviews. Maybe some day I’ll continue it, but not anytime soon.

See my favorite videos were Let’s Plays. I loved them. They reminded me of the days I’d watch my brother or my friends play games. It was nostalgic. So, I attempted to start a Let’s Play channel myself in 2015, but wussed out (slash couldn’t figure out how to do it on a Mac because almost if not all Let’s Players use PCs because they’re better for recording and games). But I finally, late as ever, swallowed my pride and started one.

This is not a promotional post for all of these things. Hence the reason I will not be including links to anything. I just wanted to spew all of this into the universe because since I’m late to all of these things…everyone who’ve benefitted from these things are either a) moving on to the next social media big thing, or b) have gotten so big they’re leaving the platforms or don’t do the content the same way.

Now I could go into a whole nother rant about content creators who change their content and become more…I don’t want to call it fake because I honestly believe it’s just become habit, but they’ve become more over the top in an unironic way. They don’t really want to be doing it anymore…they want to be actors or singers or whatever in mainstream media. But they’re afraid to lose the main source of their income in case they can’t make it up that large step. SO they don’t put as much into it as they used to. And by that I mean people who used to do all the editing themselves or writing themselves have a team now…and some creators make it work and still feel like the channel you grew to love, but others….it feels less personal and less passionate.

Sorry, I went into the rant anyways and this post was only supposed to be about how I get into popular things late and am shooting myself in the foot trying to do these things that other people have made into careers. But I know it won’t be a career. I know I won’t be popular. I know no one will watch. But I want to do it anyways. Because even if only 1 person watches and gets that nostalgic feeling that I got, it’s worth it.

Plus, I got my theater career and writing career to be unrealistic about. This is the side gig.


I See You

Story Time:

BEFORE Harry Potter and the magical wizarding world of the J. K. Rowling books, I can say with complete seriousness….

I used to believe the people in pictures could see/hear me. I still kind of (on a far smaller scale) believe this even now at 30 years old.

When I was a kid and into my teenage years, I never really had posters on my bedroom walls. There was one N*SYNC poster that I eventually did put up, but I made sure they weren’t staring at my bed. Otherwise I could never fall asleep. But I refused to put any other pictures up.

Okay, I lied. I did have other posters and pictures on my bedroom walls, BUT they were of animals…specificaly dragons….and Wyland paintings (you know, the ones with the whales) and I didn’t mind if they could hear me or see me.

ANNNNND I did have a painting by my grandmother…but that I hung in the closet. I had a weird closet that had room for a desk, but the ceiling was slanted…kind of like the little girl’s room from that Nicolas Cage Wicker Man movie….for the five of you who know what I’m talking about, high five!

I also believed the people in paintings moved when no one was looking at them. I believed that more than toys moving when no one was looking…sorry Toy Story.

So if you ever meet me and we’re in a room with pictures of people…I’ll probably act a little weird…because I don’t want the people in the pictures to tell other pictures what a weirdo I am.

Story Time

A boy once told me…

I know anything starting a sentence this way tends to set off alarm bells. From men, Oh no, another example of a man being “misogynistic”. From women, Oh no, another example of a man being misogynistic. (Did you hear the difference in tone from each?)

Well, yeah, it kind of is…but also not purposefully. What I mean by that is this: the boy who said this was a year older than me in high school (he was roughly 17 and I was 15) and he was speaking his “honest opinion”. I don’t remember how the conversation came up, I don’t remember what anybody else said, but I remember word for word what he said.

Did the opinion perhaps stem from what other males in his life talk about or act around women? Of course. Which is why I don’t particularly hold it against him.

Did it still make me feel inadequate as a female due to how he, a male, viewed the other sex? Of course. But that’s not his fault.

It’s that age old blame game time. But honestly it’s a fair game. I blame society and the subliminal messages we were shown/told throughout our childhoods.

What could he have possibly said? (You’re thinking as I ramble into philosophical debates about the modern world)

A boy once told me, “A woman is fat when her stomach sticks out past her boobs.”

Now, let’s break this down as to why it’s problematic. (I chose not to use the word “misogynistic” because to be honest I’ve never heard any other man ever say this, but it is a problem and it doesn’t mean other man haven’t said this.)

First, does the statement mean to tell me that women less endowed have a smaller window of when they’re considered fat than women with large breasts? Here’s the problem with that: it encourages body dysmorphia in women with small breasts thus leading to eating disorders, plastic surgery, or possibly even drug abuse.

Second, this statement encourages women to attack other women’s bodies unfairly. There’s this strange belief among men (and women, but I’ve heard men speak about it, write about, and what have you more frequently than women) that women don’t actually get along/can’t be friends with other women because secretly we all hate each other. Or that we’re constantly judging each other because a) one is thin, b) one is fat, c) one is tall, d) one is short, e) one has perfect small boobs, f) one has voluptuous breasts, and so on and so on…

Third, do men really not understand what breasts are? They’re sacks of fat. Yes, some women get them even when they’re thin, but also they tend to grow larger due to bodily functions, hormonal changes, weight gain, or a number of other natural reasons. The one most men think of is pregnancy, where the constant joke is, “oh, honey, I love your new boobs. We should have a baby all the time.” (To which I say to those men, fuck you)

Fourth (yes, I’m still listing, baby): What even does this statement prove? Men, do you find this complimentary to women? Cause it’s not. Do you think it promotes body positivity by redefining fat? Cause it doesn’t.

Fifth, this is a stupid statement. Every woman’s body is different. Every breast is different. Every woman’s metabolism is different. And every woman doesn’t need to be defined by whether or not other people consider them fat. The only person allowed to judge them for that is my doctor and that’s because it’s their job. Do we have to listen to them? Hell no. (Disclaimer: I know the job of a doctor isn’t to judge their patients, it’s to tell them whether or not they’re healthy and what the possible difficulties can arise from their life choices)

Bottom line, this came from a place of, I choose to believe, honesty and thoughtfulness. But it is still a problem. We as women don’t need people to give us excuses for our bodies. We don’t need people to redefine what fat is or isn’t (especially if it involves breast sizes).

We just want people to accept us in the bodies we’ve worked really fucking hard to learn to love. It takes a lot when everyone tells you it “isn’t attractive because a and b” or when every ad, TV series, movie, or even book show off “beautiful, ideal” women bodies, faces, or hair.

I remember these words every time I look in the mirror, sit with a slouch, or even when I’m meeting new people and stand there shaking their hands. I constantly think, is my stomach sticking out past my boobs? Does that mean I’m fat?

All because a boy once told me…

Anybut, this was a bit deep and probably a lot of people aren’t going to like it. But it’s what I’ve got to say. And women who disagree with points I made…okay. That’s fine. I never claimed to be an expert in discussing these topics. I’m simply writing the thoughts in my head. This phrase popped into my head and I wrote things down in relation to it.

Now back to fun stuff?

Here’s a picture of me with no context (because I can’t remember what I was doing when this picture was taken) (and, yes, my phone IS upside down)(and and, yes, this was taken back when I had blonde hair):


Ghost Blogger

OOOooooohhhhhhh! The ghost blogger is back…

It’s been awhile. But if you think this means I’m back to being regular (even though I haven’t been regular the entire time), YOU’RE WRONG!!!

My work starts Monday (I’m kind of an independent contractor…kind of). I have breaks between jobs, but when it starts I tend to fall off the face of the earth. Though to be fair my friends would say nothing really feels different since I don’t talk to them very often (but I’ll get into that some time in the future).

Anybut, I thought I’d stop by to say…well, there may be a hiatus until my work’s done…but there may not be. It all depends on if I have the time or energy to make posts.

I’ll try. I promise I’ll try. But this job really drains me mentally, emotionally, and physically.

Maybe that’s the next post…a brief/vague explanation of my work…maybe.

We’ll see.