A Brief Speech in Favor of All the Stupid Shows I Watch


 First off I just want to say sorry that all of my blog posts keep starting with “I had an interview” but literally, that’s all that’s been going on. So, I had an interview last week and the Editor-In-Chief asked me to list three things that bug me. Since I was on the spot, I quickly blurted out Taylor Swift, the sound of the vacuum, and when people open my bedroom door without knocking. While these are all true, nothing truly bugs me more than when I get lectured about my television preferences. TV watching is the great American past time, it is our one sacred, glorious freedom, and I will not have anyone squander that for me.

A few of my favorite television programs include: Real Housewives (Orange County, Beverly Hills, and New York- I don’t watch Atlanta or Jersey Shore), Keeping Up With The Kardashians (and all spin offs), Vanderpump Rules, Millionaire Matchmaker, Sex and the City, Fashion Police, E! News, and Ru Paul’s Drag Race.

I’d like to argue that I’m a pretty intelligent person. I have a University education and I’m a fairly good writer. I’ve gotten quite good at artfully articulating my thoughts without insulting people. Do I think that the shows I’m watching qualify as intelligent programming? Jesus no! But when did that become the rule? Smart people are only allowed to watch smart things? Give me a break.

Just so you know, The Real Housewives are hilarious. Do you know how many dinner parties turn into all out wars on this show? It’s hysterical. In one episode a grown ass woman throws her fake leg across a room. If you think competition shows are fun, try wacthing a bunch of catty drag queens lip sync for their lives. THAT’S FUN. Vanderpump Rules follows a bunch of marginally attractive 20-somethings who work in a restaurant and all bang each other.

Talk about an escape! THIS IS WHAT TV IS ALL ABOUT! Besides just pure comedic value, these shows literally make me feel so much better about my life.

I am so over getting reprimanded about how horrible the people are on the shows that I watch. Uh, who called them role models? It’s just a show. Do you really think I’m sitting in my bed thinking “Oh my God, I wish I was a Housewife, it looks so fucking fun” or “Man when is a black rapper gonna turn up on my door so I can become a Kardashian!”?  Just because you stare at something for multiple hours doesn’t mean it is all of a sudden your life goal. Middle aged over-Botoxed women with teenage problems are fun to watch, not to be. And while I do love the Kardashian’s Calabasas home, Kris Jenner as a mother is just not something I’m emotionally prepared to handle. Not now, not ever.

Much like playing Guitar Hero every day for a year did not turn me into a rock star, watching trashy television will not turn me into trash. I like what I like, and I will never apologize for it. So get off my case everyone, and worry about your own goddamn guilty pleasures!!


Ice Queen


In my first semester of college I took a psychology lecture. One day we were given a large list of words and told to pick three that described us best. I don’t remember all three, but I definitely remember picking the world ‘cold’. Our professor showed us two columns of the available words, one was a list of “positive” words and the other “negative”. Obviously ‘cold’ fell under the negative description.

I have resting bitch face. I don’t like hugging; I don’t like “bonding”. I prefer to be by myself. It takes a long journey of struggle to get me to feel safe and comfortable with others. I didn’t pick ‘cold’ to be interesting, I picked it because I feel that it does describe me, and to be honest, I’m fine with it. I have created a relatively safe world behind a screen where I can share relatable stories, funny rants, and life experiences for others to enjoy. That makes me feel good. Going out into the “real world” and sharing myself, opening up to strangers face-to-face sounds like hell on earth.

I have a solid group of friends that I love and appreciate. I have a small, generally close family. I don’t have a significant other. These aspects of my life do not bother me and I am not actively seeking out ways to change them.

A recent string of events have left me feeling really frustrated and more withdrawn than normal. A few posts back I spoke of the CEO who told me I needed to “humble myself” and that my enthusiasm and personality were not right for my age at an interview. I recently had another interview (for a writing position) with an extremely successful company, who’s creative manager sought out time to meet with me following said interview to inform me that I am talented, however lacking “emotional intelligence and sensitivity”.  My yoga teacher training ended with a kind, genuine speech from my instructor about how much “stronger” I am than I know, and a wistful hope that I would someday want to share myself positively with others.

I have a University education. I have a pretty plump writing resume, complete with references. I completed my yoga teaching certification on time. I followed all the rules. When did this become somehow sub-par to being an “emotionally available” person?

I am approaching 25 and I have zero desire to be emotionally vulnerable with anyone, let alone someone who is signing my checks. I don’t understand why the desire to poke, and prod, and label, and fix has become commonplace. If my style of writing doesn’t work for your company, that’s fine. If you don’t respond to the way I deliver physical cues, it’s not a big deal. But I am not prepared to defend my heart, my soul, my insides for a job.

Maybe when I turn the big 3-0 I will seek out “help” for this detrimental “issue” I am facing today. But I prefer to move forward in my career by being impressive on paper, and none of your business in person. Whatever.



I grew up in East County, so “No Regrets” was a tattoo and a phrase that I quickly became very familiar with. I guess the general idea is that one should not have regrets in life because everything is a learning experience. I cannot confirm nor deny that this is true, but I can say that this bitch definitely has a few regrets.

While they may not be life changing, like “I regret staying at school instead of going on Oprah” (a girl I went to high school with actually did this) or horrifying like “I regret letting the DMV give me my license because I seriously can’t drive and will probably kill someone” (Grandma, I’m looking at you), they matter to me, so I figured I’d share them.

Regret #1: I wish I would have tried a little harder, academically, in high school. I really hated being there and felt like it was a giant waste of time, but knowing what I know now about college expenses, I feel like I probably could have gotten an academic scholarship if I would have put like, an ounce of effort in. Maybe 10 years down the road when my loan has dwindled to 3 digits instead of 5 I won’t care anymore.

Regret #2: Even though they grew back, I really regret ever taking a tweezer to my eyebrows. It’s just a bummer that I was coming of age in the nineties when hideous thin eyebrows were in because I was actually graced with some Brooke Shields stunners that would put the Kardashian family to shame with a little bit of shaping. I really fucked them up in my teens. Dear all of my pregnant and soon-to-be-pregnant friends, if you have a daughter please don’t ever let her touch tweezers.

Regret #3: I don’t want to spend too much time on this one, but I really regret the way things went down with my ex-boyfriend. I sincerely believe our relationship could have had a shot if I would have handled the situation differently. We moved in together way too fast for no real reason, we weren’t financially secure which caused a lot of stress, leading me to come home cranky 90% of the time from working too much. I took my issues out on him, and I definitely did not tell him enough how wonderful he was, how much I loved and appreciated him. Truth be told, my ex was (and still is) the greatest human being I’ve ever known, and he deserved a lot better than me. I wish I would have (or could have) given him everything the right way. I’m sorry Arman! 😦

Regret #4: This one was a little out of my hands, but one year my family and a few other families that we’re close with went on a houseboat for a vacation. It was hands down, the worst vacation EVER. I couldn’t shower or poop and I didn’t even get to sleep in a bed. I seriously hated that trip. I guess I regret not throwing a bigger fit, but my parents are pretty used to ignoring my tantrums. We could have been in Cancun for Christ’s sake.

Regret #5: I’m still on the fence with this one, but as of right now, a big regret I have is not staying in San Francisco after college. I spend most of my time wishing I was there, planning trips to go there, missing all of my friends that live there, etc. etc. Granted, it’s nearly unlivable there now with all the tech shit, but it feels like my home, and I’m still not really sure if I made the right choice.

Guess I’ll go back to my boring job and my regret-filled life! Good luck everyone!

Monthly Movie Review: The Princess Diaries


I’m going to preface this by saying WE ALL KNOW that Anne Hathaway is totally obnoxious, but I will cut her some slack because this was basically her first film and she is not completely awful in it. That being said, The Princess Diaries is a great movie for a few reasons:

1. Julie Andrews

2. San Francisco


So, Anne Hathaway plays this…let’s just say it…ugly girl who lives in San Francisco with her mom. She has giant hair, messy eyebrows, glasses, the works. She even throws up giving a speech in front of all her classmates to seal her awkwardness. She’s in love with Erik Von Detten (who wouldn’t be?!) but he’s dating Mandy Moore because they’re popular and Anne (aka Mia) is totally lame so no one really notices her, despite her giant hair.

Julia Andrews, Mia’s grandma, comes to visit from Genovia (which turns out, is not a real place) to basically drop a bomb on Mia- she’s a princess!!!! Mia’s dad was the prince of Genovia but he died, so Mia basically has to take over. Julie Andrews is not super thrilled about the idea because Mia is a trainwreck but she decides to give Mia princess lessons so she doesn’t fuck up this fake country.

Mia is like ehhh I’m really not into this but I’ll think about it just don’t tell anyone!! So she’s undercover taking princess lessons and trying to learn how to be proper and shit while also dealing with regular high school shit, i.e. : pining after the hot guy, wearing a retainer, P.E., and having a really weird friend named Lily who has a cable show no one watches.

Insert classic makeover scene here. Mia ends up looking like, well, regular Anne Hathaway and Lily’s brother Michael is like HELLO but she doesn’t notice because she’s in love with Brink still. Michael is actually pretty cute but in an artsy sort of way.

Her weird hairdresser/makeover guy ends up spilling to the press that Mia is a princess so everyone goes craaazy and there are camera crews at the school and Mia is like dammit this sucks UNTIL EVD is all hey I dumped Mandy Moore we should go to the Baker Beach Bash together(I just want to add that I lived in San Francisco for 5 years and never once got invited to a Baker Beach Bash)! Mia in no way shape or form thinks it’s weird that this stud is into her immediately after she is sort of a celebrity so she’s pumped. Oh, also, Michael low key asked Mia on a date that’s the same night as the Baker Beach party so she blows him off because, duh, it’s Erik Von Detten. Michael is sad but Mia doesn’t really give a shit.

The Baker Beach party is going well until it turns out Von Detten and Mandy Moore are media whores and fuck with Mia to get on TV, basically trying making out in front of the reporters and getting the photographers to take a picture of Mia while she’s changing. Fucked up. So Mia goes home and cries.

Blah blah blah Mia tries to actually be a princess by going to events and acting proper and is getting ok at it. She still does awkward things like catch someone’s arm on fire and drop stuff so thet you don’t forget she’s the same person even though she’s not hideous anymore.

Mia and Julie Andrews start bonding more and she takes her to Fisherman’s Wharf which I would never recommend. Mia she tries to make up with Michael but he’s over it at this point and feels like a back burner bitch so Mia is sad. She has this event she’s supposed to go to where she basically is going to announce she’s a princess but she’s like fuck this, I don’t want to go, but her shitty Mustang can’t make it up San Francisco’s hills and it’s raining so her bodyguard Joe (who has sexual tension with Julia Andrews) comes to get her.

She shows up to the, I don’t know, inauguration? in jeans and a hoodie and wet hair and gives a pretty decent speech about taking on the princess role, showing how far she’s come since her barfing days. She gets made up all pretty and wears a crown and then everyone starts dancing and she awkwardly stands there because she has no date. Michael slowly appears through the crowd with a tux on looking all cute and they dance and make out in the courtyard and it’s actually pretty sweet.

This movie is a winner because it’s filmed in the best city ever, where they literally take the weirdest routes to get to certain places and includes super funny lines such as:

Mia: “Just because your hair sucks, get off mine!”

Michael: “Ouch, thank you.”

Mia: “Do you want to slide in first?”

Julie Andrews: “No, I never slide.”

Nun 1: “Hello 911? I’d like to report an accident. They put me on hold!”

Nun 2: “Oh for the love of God.”

4 Stars! Don’t watch the sequel.

Can I Keep Him?


All of my pets are rescues. Saved from the streets of Tijuana, left on a doorstep, found in an alley…all of the furry friends in my life have overcame adversities to be smothered in love by yours truly. When I was little I wanted every pet to have a home. I wanted to save all the cats, dogs, bunnies, squirrels, lizards, bugs, whatever. I’m still the person who puts shower spiders in a cup and lets them live to see another day outside. In my mind, they all deserve love, they all need me.

As I slowly but surely become an adult, I have come to find that I now transfer this rescue behavior onto men. My last boyfriend managed to break his hand and collarbone in a two month period. I wouldn’t exactly say I was glad, but I felt pretty great hand delivering care packages, helping him in and out of his sling, and gently rubbing his hair until he fell asleep. He’s almost 30. “Are you ok?” “What do you need?” “What can I do?” are probably my three most commonly used phrases in a relationship.

I lived with one of my exes, and even after we broke up and moved apart, I didn’t even stop to think when he called me drunk one night and didn’t know where he was. I was maneuvering through the streets of PB looking for him before we even hung up the phone.

One time I dated a guy with a full time job, a college degree, a nice place, and a rescue dog of his own. Guess how long that lasted? I couldn’t have been more bored.

The men I’ve gravitated towards are like the pets I’ve rescued. They’re adorable, cuddly, uncoordinated, and will never love me as much as I love them. They will never reciprocate the actions I’ve selflessly showered onto them.

But the real question is: why? Why do I do this to myself? What is this weird rescue mentality all about? Maybe someday a nice guy will scoop me up to let me take naps by the sunny window and feed me when I cry.

I’d like to say that rounding up every issue-ridden guy into a shelter and listing their history would help me stop making such dangerous choices, but I think it would only make me want them more.

Bitch Tactics Volume V


“Brief But Effective Responses”

One part of being an outspoken, articulate bitch is that people expect you always have something to say. While 99.9% of the time I do, there are those times when I literally have zero desire to get involved in anything. This can happen for a multitude of reasons, but the main one I can come up with is just that I’m over it. The best way to conquer being totally over people (besides cutting them out of your life, which we can explore in another blog) is to give them BBERs- Brief But Effective Responses. This can range from one word to one sentence that accurately displays your disinterest and lack of investment.

We’ve already discussed the power of “No.” perhaps the most brief but also the most effective, “no” will take care of basically any problem you encounter.

That’s really interesting. Keep your voice as monotone as possible when you use this one, or depending how stupid the topic is, use too much emphasis on really. Example: “You’re going on an all-Gatorade cleanse? That’s really interesting.”  [insert eye roll here]. This one works great on boyfriends as well. “You went out with the guys and you didn’t have anything to drink, huh? That’s really interesting.” Obviously whatever this person is saying is not even remotely in the realm of being interesting, so make sure you look as bored as possible.

I don’t care. I say this one a lot, and I often sub it with “I couldn’t care less” or “Nobody cares”. Functioning as the exact opposite of “that’s really interesting”, it is a hard, cold truth that cuts to the bone. If no one cares about what you’re saying, hopefully you’ll stop saying it. Example: “Kaley, you really hurt that girl’s feelings when you made fun of Mormons wearing one-piece bathing suits.” “I don’t care.”[insert casual drink sip here] Viola.

You’re embarrassing. Some behaviors are just best kept in-doors. I have a few friends that just don’t know how to act in public. If someone is over-doing inside jokes that no one else understands, going through impersonations that aren’t hitting, or quoting movies that no one else in the group has seen, a simple: “You’re embarrassing” usually shuts it down.

Ugh. Another one I use pretty frequently, this is best presented when you are disgusted by a topic to the point where it literally needs to be dropped forever. Hold your hand up like “stop in the name of love” status and people should get it. Also to be used when perusing through an ex-girlfriend’s pictures on social media.

Can you stop? The last guy I dated was one of those people that just could not grasp that nothing good happens after midnight. I don’t know how you don’t get the picture when all of the fucking lights go on in a bar, but whatever. Glance around, take in the atmosphere, give this young go-hard the once over and say, “um, can you stop?” This one is not fool-proof, yet, but it has a decent success rate. “Can you not?” is the basic version of this BBER.

I’m busy. Because no one is every really busy. Seriously it works for everything.

Best of luck, bitches.