Well, I’ll Be Damned.

At my fancy-pants big girl job, there have been a few situations where I’ve been asked to PhotoShop something. Small stuff, really, like editing a photo or graphic. Quick, little things we don’t want to bother our graphic designer with, but stuff that needs to get done.

I remember the first time a co-worker asked me if I had any PhotoShop experience. I said “Sure, personal use.” You know what that personal use was?

Covering up my acne.


What I have, until now, believed was a curse on my life now seems to be sort of a blessing.

I first used Microsoft Paint to just change the hue to make it less noticeable. Then moved on to Microsoft Photo Editor to change color, remove red-eye, and hide the dreaded breakout. Finally, onto PhotoShop to do everything possible to hide it.

Now, I use those very PhotoShop skills at work.

If you had told the 16-year-old acne and angsty me that the time I spent at the computer furiously using PhotoShop to cover up my pizza face would come in handy some day, I probably would have just laughed and went back to slathering my face with foundation.

I’ll be damned.




I’ve been a full-time adult for about 2 months now.

There are perks and downfalls.


1.) 85% of my mail are bills.

2.) I have to pay those bills.

3.) Budgeting is real (and it’s hard!).

4.) I have to pack my lunch every single day.

5.) I have to get up and go to work every single day.

6.) Did I mention bills?


1.) No homework (I come home and live my life).

2.) Having my own apartment is pretty sweet.

3.) I’m an independent person.

4.) Actually having some free-time to pursue new hobbies (yoga, cooking, baking, etc).

5.) I read books for fun.

6.) I like my job.


This is me with what I worked for 3 1/2 years to earn.

My Bachelor’s Degree.



The thing about adulthood is people say “it’s the beginning of the rest of your life”.  I don’t like to think of this stage of my life as the beginning of the end. That sounds morbid.  I have a lot planned for every stage of my life.

I’m just getting started.


The Mayor or StruggleCity

I am the mayor of StruggleCity.



I have ONE MORE paper to write as an English Major and then I am done.

One more.

That’s it.

15 pages stand between me and finishing my bachelor of the arts degree in 3 1/2 years.

3 1/2 years.

7 semesters that I carefully planned out with a semester spent in a different country.

Now, I know that’s not too spectacular. Quite a few people finish a semester early… but the point here is that I’m a motivated person.

Why can’t I get this paper going?

I don’t even have an idea of what I want to do because honestly I don’t want to do it.

15 pages on something about James Joyce’s Ulysses.

I’m supposed to submit an abstract by Tuesday with a thesis.

I’ve read (skimmed)  a few scholarly articles about one of the chapters I’m interested in, but I don’t know what to focus myself on. I wish I could write a creative non fiction piece about my experience reading Ulysses.


Woe to me, need to focus on college for 5 more weeks.

I can definitely do this.



For Once..

Today, I woke up to my phone flashing:


Oops, I realized, I forgot to pay my phone bill. It’s no problem for me, I just go online and top up for the next month.

So, I jumped out of bed and logged onto my mobile site.

I topped up for the next month (unlimited talk, text, and 3g data for $50), restarted my phone, and got ready for the morning. Then, I tried to send a text message and it kept failing.

Anxious, because, of course, I need my phone to survive life, I restarted again. No results.

I called my mobile phone provider to see if customer service could help.

“Hello, thank you for calling Blah blah mobile, how many I help you?”

“Yes, Hello, I have a blah blah plan and I topped up a while ago and it’s not working.”

“I’m sorry to hear that when did you top up?”

“Um… like 5 minutes ago.”


I gave them my information in an awkward silence.


“I see, it says here your accounted was suspended?”

“Yeeaaaahhh…. apparently, (I snicker) you have to pay EVERY month for your phone to work, lol” (I actually said ‘lol’ out loud).

I expected an awkward silence, but the customer service person and I shared a hearty laugh!

For once, I got someone to laugh with me.

Then I said, “I’ll just wait a bit and call back if it doesn’t work.”

“Sounds good,” said the customer service person.


The phone works fine.


My Pants are Stressing Me OUT

I’m madder than a bee that’s been slapped in the face while trying to drink nectar from a flower!
I’ve bought several nice black pants for work/internships from various stores such as New York & Company and Express. I paid $60 for the Express pants and $25 for the NY & C (on sale!)
I’ve noticed BOTH pairs of pants quickly start to get worn on my outer left thigh.
I even called Express, complained, and got a new pair sent to me because I thought it was a defect; however,  the same thing happened again! (Oops, sorry Express customer service. You were very helpful, though!)
It looks like I bought these pants at a crummy garage sale (I’m not slapping garage sales because I’ve found some pretty cool things at nice garage sales).
It looks like my cat rubbed against my legs and made the fabric look worn (I love when cats/animals rub against me, it’s so sweet).
My hips don’t lie because it’s only happening on my left outer thigh and it’s not happening from sitting too much because that part of my body does not touch the seat.
I didn’t mind paying $85 total for some nice black pants because I’m trying to look professional. But now I paid $85 to look like a wannabee.
Where did you get your professional attire? How has it held up?

I Think I Was Carjacked?

I’m cruising down HWY172W towards home when I felt a tickle on my fingers.


He was sitting on top of the steering wheel crawling around on my hands. I slowly lifted my left arm and rolled down my front windows and I tried to stay cool.

Then, I kid you not, this wasp stuck his little bee butt at me and shook his stinger at me! He meant business!

I said to him, “Is this a stick up?”

He kept shaking his butt and buzzing around my fingers.

I got off at the next exit and asked him, “Where do you want me to drop you off?”

He jumped off the steering wheel and he floated towards the left.

I turned left and the next stop light he buzzed around my head and flew off.


Carjacking over.

I am a Traitor.

Yesterday, I was working at a wedding.

It was probably the biggest wedding I have worked at yet and quite busy.

I noticed one of the guests looks freakishly like my brother, T. He even had the long brown hair! This guest and his date went through the photobooth and when they were signing the photobook I had to say something.


The convo…

Me: “This is so weird, but you look just like my brother! He even has long hair!”

Bro-look-alike: “Oh, cool. What does he do?” (weird question, but okay)

Me: “He is studying psychology.”

Bro-look-alike: “Cool, what do you study?”

Me: “Marketing.”

Bro-look-alike as he walks away: “Great!”


Marketing!!??!!?! Did I just say Marketing ? I’m a proud English major. Why did I say Marketing?

Now, I have slips of the tongue frequently, but this was bad!

Before I could even correct myself the Bro-look-alike was long gone and a new horde of people had arrived.

I think I meant to say I had a Marketing Internship? I’m not sure.

I feel awful and ashamed.

I am an English major! I’m proud of it!

But today I am a traitor.


A Little Birdie Told Me…


Since yesterday afternoon, a little goldfinch has been knocking at the front window.

He flew away last night around 8pm, but he was back this morning and still at the window when I got back from my internship.

He’s so cute, but what does he want?

I’ve gone outside a few times to invite him in, but he flies away.


I have several theories as to why this birdie is knocking.

1.) He is a reincarnation of Abe Lincoln and he wants to come in.

2.) Those creepy neighbors kitty corner to the house are hiding someone in their basement and the bird is trying to get my attention to come free this person.

3.) He wants to be my friend but gets nervous when I go outside to get him.

4.) He thinks the house is his nest?





At any rate, it doesn’t really matter what he wants. I like him and hope he stays.

Interweb Etiquette

Today, I required assistance whilst shopping for a new mobile plan on the Internet.

I had several options to choose from:



+chat now with a customer service rep


Chat? I’ve never done that before, so I fist pumped and clicked the box. I typed “Hello” in the chat box and then I burst out laughing. What is the chat etiquette?  The rep responded “Hi”

I waited a full minute then quickly hashed out my question and slapped the enter key.

I realized I forgot the most importance advice I have ever heard “ALWAYS PROOF READ”.

Now, this person probably thought I was a moron with my grammar mistakes.

I am a moron.


The rep answered my question.

I responded “Thank you”

and promptly slammed my laptop shut and ran away. Panic.

Was I supposed to say, I mean type, goodbye?


After I was done being flustered, I opened my laptop back up and obsessively checked my Facebook and two email accounts. There was an email from the website with a “receipt of my chat”.


The rep had typed goodbye.



Everyone is Okay.

Today, I babysat these two cute, little girls for a few hours.

They both weren’t feeling well so I let them pick a movie to watch and relax on the couch. We agreed on Toy Story 3.

I saw Toy Story 3 in theaters (I’m pretty sure) and I remember being sad at the end.

The elder of the two girls is in the question phase: why? why can’t I play outside? why can’t I have treat? why are you sitting there? why can’t you sit here? put my blanket on me.

When Andy gives his Woody, Buzz and the rest of the gang to Bonnie at the end of the movie before he leaves for college, I was completely crying. It’s so precious!

I tried to play it cool, but my sniffling quickly drew the attention of my little friends.

“What’s wrong, Claire?” the elder one asked while the younger one touched my cheek which was streaked in my tears.

“I’m just sad,” I said.

“Why?” the elder asked looking concerned.

“The movie was sad,” I sniffed.

“It’s okay, Claire,” said the elder and the younger nodded furiously. “Everyone is okay.”

“Play?” the younger asked.


And then we played castle.