On Trust Falls (RHOC Season 13 Ep. 1)

Hello lightness, my old friend.

Is it just me, or was the last season of Real Housewives of Orange County missing something, or someone? With hexagonal shaped iced and an affinity for champs maybe? If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times (especially in the past few weeksBRING BACK HEATHER DUBROW. BRING HER BACK. 

A girl can dream.

Anyway, ever since Heather dismissed Kelly Dodd from Meghan King Edmunds’ (who I would bet a million dollars would have bullied me if I went to highschool with her) pre-in-vitro party, the Real Housewives of Orange County have been a little, lackluster. Which was internally killing me. You see, these are the OG Real Housewives, the first city to have that jingle introductions, hold fruits in the title scene – this specific sect of the Real Housewives franchise is quite literally the pioneer to all of the best things that graced my life. Kidding. But really.

As I sit here writing this, I am re-watching old episodes of this very franchise like I always do to feel comfortable. These women have had the most hilarious scenes, wonderful vacations, but also the strongest, most realistic friendships I have ever seen portrayed on television. I’ve seen each and every episode a handful of times and even with that, the episode on screen right now still brings me to tears. It’s the one where Vicky’s mom dies. I have never been able to watch this without crying. I am lucky enough to have my mother on this earth with me, and I am very aware that not everyone has such luck. I have not yet had to relate to this scene in the most basic, humanistic way that you do when you see somebody go through something you never thought you could make through yourself. However, I still cry. Sob cry. Like my stomach is currently in my throat and I already have a headache kind of cry. Need my mom cry.

With all the laughter and fun this show includes I’m not lying when I say that its imperative that it stays on air because it moves people. These are real people. With real lives. Regardless of how elaborate they seem on television these people have been cast for a wide array of reasons but I can’t help but think they were kept onscreen because of a little bit of how real they are. People need to see other people going through things sometimes, so people don’t feel alone. You know?

Anyway I really love this show and have been only semi-stressed with the dullness of the past season. However, after watching this first episode I am proud to announce that MY LADIES ARE BACK!

I’ve worried about Shannon Beador for the past two seasons on account of the fact that I haven’t liked her at all. I really wanted to, but there was just something about the pretending-to-be-okay-while-lashing-out-at-people-who-didn’t-deserve-it-behavior that was rubbing me the wrong way. My heart broke for the crap her legitimate creep of a husband put her through, but I felt like that friend who wanted more for her friend while her friend wasn’t going to change anything about her current situation even though she like, could and it was frustrating and I was over it. Anyway, she’s cut the shit now, and I literally love her from what I’ve already seen.

I would rather watch somebody not be okay and be themselves than pretend to be okay and try to put one over on me, you know? And I feel like this season is setting us up for a lot of realness and therefore a lot of fun.

Meghan King Edmunds is no longer on the show, nor is Lydia or Peggy. We have two new girls but have only met the lawyer who was proposed to on Google Chat. Can’t make that up. Her husband, not so surprisingly, gives me the creeps.

I’ll let you know how I feel about the other new girl once I meet her, which I believe will be tonight (or tomorrow whenever I get to the episode).

All in all, the girls are back, better than ever, and I highly suggest you keep up (if you haven’t decided to already).

Let me know what you think!



Everything You Need To Know Before the Southern Charm Reunion Tonight

Condensing things, wether they be Twitter statuses or titles, has never been my forte.

There are very few things I have the privilege of being able to say I have known since their conception. My brother, Instagram, Vanderpump Rules and Southern Charm. 

*buckle your seatbelts & get some snacks for when Vanderpump Rules comes back on TV. I would quite literally sell my entire apartment (is that even legal), go a year without eating any cheese and kill a human being for the program that is Vanderpump Rules.*

What I like to call the “cool younger siblings” of the Real Housewives franchise, Southern Charm and Vanderpump Rules are just a little edgier, younger, and real-er than most of the programs people associate with Reality TV. The casts are quite literally beautiful, hilarious, with real jobs and real problems just like, cooler ones than I have. So I love them.

This past season of Southern Charm has been one of my favorites, and one of the best, hands down. Personally, I have been catching up on the entire series for over two days because I know how to truly appreciate the finer things in life. If by any chance you have yet to enrich yourself to a higher level of understanding of the human condition, don’t fret. Here’s a quick rundown of who’ll be eating at this season’s Last Supper (reunion, get it? it’s funny).

Thomas Ravenel will NOT be eating supper he will NOT pass go he will NOT collect $200 due to the fact that he has been charged with sexual assault. Proud of Bravo’s swift removal of him from the series. He is, however, the father of two children with a co-cast member Kathryn. He comes from old southern money. He is also old. He has a horrific girlfriend. He has blocked me on Twitter.

Ashley (??) I am unaware if she is eating supper but if I see her I will break my television screen. She is a nurse from California who fell in love with Thomas and moved across the country for his love. Not money at all, simply, love. Last we saw she was living rent-free with an allowance from the love of her life. Romantic. She is also the reason I am blocked from Thomas Ravenel’s twitter.

Kathryn Dennis is the mother of Thomas’ children. She used to be crazy (doing all of us Catherine/Kathryn/Cathryn/how many fucking variations of my name are there in this world?? proud). Her main storyline this season was getting a job at a retail store, Gwynns. She is stunning, sober, and a super whisperer. (Seriously what is it with Bravo and the mic situation SPEAK UP PEOPLE)

Craig took roughly 18 years to pass the bar. He looks like he’s 23. I am unaware how old he is. He broke his hand with a butter knife and now sews pillows full time. Need I say more.

Naiome is Craig’s ex-girlfriend. She is pretty and speaks french. I normally would be loyal to whatever original cast member brought on an ex, but Naiome is one of my favorites on this show. She is funny but also super outspoken and I’m pretty sure she could beat me up. I want to be her friend.

Shep is also from old money. It isn’t offensive because I’m 90% sure they say this at least once an episode. He is the goofy, flirty guy you meet in highschool/college who is the life of the party but also like has a *dark and twisty* side where he reads old literature and may or may not shower. He could be played by Nick Miller in a movie. (please dear God tell me you know what New Girl is. Youtube it for me).

Austen  is like a little Shep. They all mock him for being a little Shep. His mouth moves too fast for his words so it’s pretty funny watching him talk. He brewed his own beer this season which is exciting except for the fact that he basically just paid for the beer to be brewed. I like him though.

Chelsea used to date Austen and is BFFS with arguably my favorite person who has ever been on my television screen. She is a hairdresser. Austen started dating her friend whilst dating her so they ended things. I began to not like Austen when I heard this. You should also begin to not like Austen after hearing that.

Cameran is one of my FAVORITE PEOPLE ever to grace my television screen. She is funny. She has a husband who’s a doctor/surgeon. She has an adorable daughter. She is super pretty. She narrates the entire season and spends basically every scene sitting aside and talking to Whitney about how ridiculous everyone is. I want to be her.

Whitney is the semi-cool older kid you’re friends with. He’s a main producer of the show (*tea*) so he’s not really in the middle of any drama. He has a funny way of commenting about things with Cameran. In the older seasons he annoyed me because he was rude to my friend Kathryn but he’s redeemed himself since. His mother, Patricia is amazing.

Patricia is basically her own cast member. She wears fabulous clothes. She holds galas at her home. She is cutting and dry and hilarious. She drinks martinis and has a butler and I would take any sort of lifestyle class from her. I would literally believe anything she told me ever.

If you’ve made it this far, congrats! Now you have quite literally no excuse to watch (kidding, but really).  I’m going to go make myself a drink and a luxurious tray of pirates booty to prepare. Gotta blast!



On Caves (Below Deck Med)

First of all, let’s take a second to applaud the bravery of those little soccer players (and coach) along with the fearlessness of heroes who risked their lives to willingly DIVE INTO A CAVE with the odds NOT EVEN SLIGHTLY on their side to save the former. I can confidently say that the #ThaiCaveRescue is one of the single most fascinating miracles I have seen in my lifetime. If for some reason you’re living under a rock  in the clouds, I’ll give you a second to google it.

Talk about a reason to believe in humanity. We can all learn from them, I’m sure of it.

Hopefully this title isn’t too soon (if it is, this is me admitting that it could be too soon so hopefully the self awareness here is key) but I wanted to talk about caves and by caves I mean what I call my family room in my apartment. *winces*

My apartment isn’t a studio (I know you were all curious) but it’s basically one big room anyway.

However, with some help from Jordans (#notspons) and Wayfair [def #notspons seeing as I was denied a job there twice 🙂 🙂 🙂 *cue the text message from my Mom telling me to be more professional online!!!] I have created a quaint little unit for myself to sit back and relax with a glass of wine/martini [I’m trying to make myself like these because #sugar #fitfam *cue text message from my Mom reminding me I sell wine for a living*]and watch my programs.

*I sell wine and vodka, fyi*

Back to the point. Is there a point? Oh yeah.

Anyway. I love my little cave, it makes me happy. It is the only cave I have any interest in visiting anytime soon. I don’t care if you pay me a million dollars. Unless, that is, you let me go on Below Deck.

There are two different types of decks you can be below (not funny? or charmingly awkward?Regular and Mediterranean. Currently, Mediterranean is on, and although I’m not the most loyal fan you bet your sweet tush that I have a favorite crew member.

Who is it you may ask?

The sweet angelic mama’s boy Colin (call me) (yeah I have a boyfriend but love is love). He is funny, he is kind, he is important. His freestyle rap for that guest’s birthday quite literally made me smile ear to ear. There is no tie. There is no overtime. There is no rematch.

Juaouuou (I am not even going to attempt to spell his name and that is not rude of me he is rude) is every single kid who didn’t join a fraternity because he “didn’t need help getting invited to parties”. If you were to play a form of drinking game in which you took a sip of alcohol every time he generalized life in the entire country of Zimbabwe you would literally die of alcohol poisoning. And yes, you read that right.

Brooke‘s whispering obsession with masochistic romance (yeah I have an education you read that right!!!!!) is overplayed and bland and her whisper voice makes me nervous.

Kacey needs her hair to be toned like 4 shades cooler (but don’t we all) and is that girl who never had an awkward stage in life and therefore has the personality of an expired bag of chips.

Jamie makes me cringe. I am quite literally nervous when she enters rooms. Why does she prefer to take out trash? Why does she not annunciate her consonants? Is her name even Jamie?

Conrad is a cutie patootie but also my age. I think. And I’m super glad he’s gone so far in his career but I truly do not care for anyone who isn’t transparent with feelings and I wish he clapped back at Juaouuou in a better way. Cutie patootie though.

Hannah is a classic favorite that I didn’t include on rankings to even the field. Same with Adam. Love them SO much, more than they know!!! *bffs for life*

I just realized I forgot Captain Sandy. I feel bad saying this (kind of) but I’m not the biggest fan. And it’s not because of her gender (I actually wanted to like her MORE because she’s a female captain and that’s honestly sick) it’s more because of the fact that she isn’t Captain Lee. And she orders dry toast and you can’t trust anyone who orders dry toast. It’s a rule.

For those entry level Bravo aficionados in training, or those trying to get their significant other as committed to the Bravo network as they are, I would suggest this show. Honestly. It’s interesting but I don’t worry about missing an episode. A safe palette cleanser.

If appropriately matching Bravo programs to perspective watchers was a job, I would want that job. And I don’t think it is (somebody let me know) so for now, read this and trust the professional (me).





On Woopin’ It Up

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times; Bravo is quite literally the best network on television. Emmy worthy at least. I am not kidding when I tell you all I found myself in a heated verbal altercation with the Comcast Network over the severity of my addiction to Bravo once I moved out. They said I couldn’t have it in my television package, I told them I would rather go the entirety of my life wearing wet socks under my shoes than pay even a cent for dull, unfunny, forced programming that dreams of the day that it preludes a “Watch What Happens Live”. We worked something out.

I don’t have a clear idea what I want for this blog in regards to overall theme as I age. I know that I have officially paid money to own this for the next 2 years (buckle in, folks!!!). I know that overthinking is the thief of good ideas & progress (thanks, #BryantIDEA!!) . I know I like to make people happy, laugh, and feel good about themselves (can I get any more humble? It really is hard being this perfect) – and I know that I could quite literally talk about any and all Bravo programming for the rest of my life forever and live content.

So I’m gonna start writing again (duh, you’ve read this) but I’m gonna try and be a little more relaxed in the whole format thing and a whole lot more real on what I write about. Hard hitting journalism. A real Barbara Walters experience. Nitty gritty only. Buckle your seatbelts, folks.

Let’s talk about Vicki Gunvalson.

Born Victoria Stienmez in Chicago, Illinois (yeah, I looked this shit up) Vicki Gunvalson is the OG Housewife. And I mean OG, like first season of the first season (say that three times fast) of Real Housewives Housewife OG. And she’s still here. And she kicks ass. And she takes names. And she WHOOPS IT UP.

Between her dirty martinis, clean catch phrases (see what I did there), and tumultuous dating life, this self-made woman is my legitimate obsession. It is a STONE COLD FACT that every Real Housewives City has a strong matriarch (if you didn’t know, now you know) and Victoria Anne is the crisp orange in the center of the OC. She is an icon. A treasure. My hero

#RHOC returned last night, and since I’m 89 years old I was in bed during the premiere – so I’m going to watch it right after I post (CLICKBAIT IF I’VE EVER SEEN IT TO TUNE BACK IN FOR MY THOUGHTS) – but if you have a sense of humor/appreciation for the arts and were intrigued by that little bio of the goddess of Coto, start telling your remote to take you to Bravo already. Like now. You’ll thank me later.





On Rain

Hey guys! How are ya? Long time no talk.

As always, I’m going to shoot you all straight. I haven’t posted lately, and yes, I know I haven’t posted lately, and yes, I did have complete access to this computer as well as wifi for the entirety of the time I wasn’t posting.

Life got in the way, like it always does, and I’m not too bothered by it. I hope you all aren’t either.  If anything, I wanted this site not only to have an excuse to write sweet, sweet nothings (lol) but to do my part in reminding the world that it’s okay to like, be human, you know?hate hate, firmly believe that miscommunication is the root of feeling alone, and blame the fact that not enough of us use this medium of technology to spread our innately human qualities and, therefore, lead one another to feeling alone.

The hate thing will be for another post, probably. But yeah. I’m human, I didn’t write. I don’t love any of you less for whatever little hiccup you may or may not feel guilt over today, and hope the feelings are mutual.

I’ve missed you <3

Today, I want to talk about rain.

I’ve always loved the rain. The sound, the smell, the fact that it makes you want to cuddle up inside in the cold and the way you feel when you dry off in the summer spells – it rocks. For me at least.

There’s this saying I heard more and more as I got older and felt myself feeling younger. Whining internally “why me?” at things I’m aware are overtly trivial, and blessed problems – my Nana used to reassure me by saying;

“When it rains, it pours.”

Silly, I know. But my Nana was a wise lady. The wisest. And she knew people. And it makes sense if you think about the fact that most of the hubabaloo of failure is the whole part that it comes out of the blue. You think what did I miss? Where did I go wrong? HOW?

The trick about the whole thing, Nana pointed out, is the fact that it really isn’t avoidable. It’s necessary. You don’t know how to walk without learning how it feels to fall. You don’t learn how to write without misspelling restaurant every once in a while. You don’t have flowers without the rain. 

I never want any one of you to read these posts and believe I’m looking for pity. That isn’t what this site is about. However, I toy with the whole practice-what-you-preach thing, and I want more people to feel okay with being, you know, people (see above) and it is a people thing to be let down.

So, I gotta prove it.

I didn’t have the easiest year. I am very aware and thankful for all that I have. Please read that twice. I am very aware and thankful for all that I have.

That doesn’t mean I, a person, cannot feel a little rain.

I have. I felt alone a lot this year. Felt myself looking for where I belonged, I lost competitions I worked hard to prepare for, friendships I thought were airtight, I saved every parking ticket for every interview in Boston I went to. I sent millions and I mean realistically hundreds of emails to employers, took notes on jobs and juggled carpool pickups to save up cash for gas – I heard “No” “It’s not us, it’s quite literally you” more often than I got a text back from people I never thought I’d need to chase.

It was as if everything that I knew about myself didn’t fit anymore. I started to believe, like the critical thinker that I am, that everything I was was the very reason I wasn’t getting everything I wanted.

It kinda sorta poured, you know?

But somewhere in that mess, somehow, in the way that most things happen, it all worked out.

The rain has a way of washing everything away. The rain has a way of bringing out beauty. The rain makes everything new.

The day after my graduation I heard about E&J Gallo Winery. Anyone who knows me, knows how much I love wine. But seriously, their program, focus on leadership, character, and team atmosphere was one I wanted more than anything. I kept in contact with a woman who worked there all summer. An extremely close family friend (more of an aunt) was kind enough to send her information my way. I sent the woman emails monthly with updates on my life, questions about how she was, comments on the weather – there was no job available when I first met her, but I didn’t care. I was in awe of what she did, knew enough that I wanted to be just like her, whenever I decided to grow up, and went for it.

In the darkest of rainfalls, I kept E&J Gallo as my “dream job”. I never thought it would come to fruition.

Yeah, they were the ones I was late to on the most recent post. *Cue “AHHHHH” from the crowd*

I accepted a full time offer with them a week ago.

For every time I was too friendly, too young, too Catherine for anything other than my dream job, E&J Gallo wanted me.

I guess what I’m trying to say is this; it’s okay to not feel okay. Rain is a part of life.

Wherever you are, whoever you are, if you’re reading this at all or skimming this, thank you for making it this far. You are wonderful, you are important. Don’t ever doubt how magnificently unique you are. You are, magnificent, that is.

And if you ever start to feel a raindrop, how about you try and sing, for me.

Talk soon,


On Like, Post Grad Stuff

Hi guys! Hope you all had great weekends. Oh, and Mondays, too.


I want to thank, sincerely, each and every one of you that has personally come up to me regarding this whole blogging thing. Seriously, wether you love them or hate them or just know I make them, it means the absolute world to me that I reach you in any way at all. I have this funny relationship with these disclaimers, because they feel just a teeny weeny bit like not-so-Humble-brags – so if you’re feeling that way reading this, I’m with ya. Let me know. Or don’t.


I was supposed to post yesterday. Okay, not really supposed to on account of nobody’s really making me do this – but I’m trying for consistency here! As somebody who appreciates consistency, I’ll be the first to admit my admiration is more of a grass-is-always-greener-kinda-sorta-because-I-forget-to-water-my-own-grass-sometimes-cut-a-girl-some-SLACK-I’m-human!!! kind.

Can’t change unless you admit you fail sometimes. So there you go. Will try not to do it again, am cognizant that I may, in fact, inevitably do it again.

(side note, anyone else feel like that Z just looks wrong in cognizant? It’s not, but doesn’t it kinda feel like it is?)

Anyway, if I do do it, I’ll own up to it. Slow and steady wins the race, right?

My alumni weekend was this past weekend. It rocked. It didn’t, however, cause me not to post, contrary to popular conversation online regarding kids (adults sounds too weird I was literally enrolled in school three months ago)  and attending their alumni weekend(s).

Nope, I didn’t post yesterday because even after checking my email for two hours early in the morning, like usual, scheduling my coming month, and working on some content – I didn’t realize the actual date of yesterday (the  25th), received a call that I was expecting today (which I believed was the date of yesterday, hopefully you’ve caught on to this), jumped in my car and drove an hour and a half to a meeting that I’d been preparing for all week.

I’m early for quite literally everything. Everything. I’m serious, my biggest pet peeve is lateness, so I try and practice what I preach. I usually succeed. And by usually succeed, I mean I am literally never late for anything ever. The latest I’ve ever been is on time.

Not this time. Hour and a half. Late. Actual late.

I do this thing when I make a mistake where I obsessively try and realize the lesson in the whole thing. I firmly believe that everything that goes wrong ever has clues hidden in how to make things right– big and small, all mistakes included.

I know I’m not alone here.

But this time, instead of letting it ruin my day, I decided (after a considerable amount of  beating myself up) that it’s okay. Not that’s it’s like, okay to be late all the time, but like, it’s okay that every once in a while we all make literally human mistakes.

Seriously, it is. I had checked my email, scheduled, was up early, did work – I happened to misunderstand the date. In the past, I would take that as an excuse to deeply dive into reasons why I, Catherine Emond, a 20-something (2, I’m 22, but 20 something just sounds cooler so let’s roll with it) young adult (the tween version of adult) would make such a dire mistake.

Tiresome, and not super helpful.

You see, everyone makes mistakes (cue Hannah Montana – no, I don’t know why there are so many sidenotes in today’s post either but let’s all ~roll with it) but seriously, they do.

They make us human, they keep us humble,  they keep life interesting.

I realized that that, in itself, was a huge clue in making things right. See, you’re never going to be able to control the entire world, you know?

~ “You can’t direct the wind, but you can adjust the sails” ~

“You’re bound to completely blank on the actual date sometimes, and therefore, make yourself late. But it isn’t the end of the world, and you’ll be okay.”

Wherever you are today reading this, whoever you are, remember to cut yourself some slack every once in a while. Take every missed appointment with a grain of salt, remember that every mistake has a lesson – even if that lesson is simply learning to love yourself a teeny bit more, for all of the human that you are.

As always, thank you so much for reading.

Thinking of you all,



On Jazz

Hey guys! Miss me? I’ve missed you.

I’ve been having this problem that used to make me put writing down altogether – but since I made you all a promise, here I am, pushing my way through it.

I’m happy.

Yeah, I just said happy. No, I’m not trying to be over dramatic or romantic in that whole I’m-only-my-true-self-when-I’m-suffering way, but in the sake of honesty here – it’s kinda hard for me to write when I’m happy.

You see, I find myself thinking in this super circular way about happiness when I can’t sleep or when I should be doing something more productive than thinking in a super circular way about happiness and every analysis leads to a consensus that, until now, has given me the perfect “out” in terms of writing about it at all.

I tend to write when I want to think something through.

To me, writing is extremely cathartic. It’s raw and real and there’s just something about how fast keys can make words and how bold Times New Roman looks while it marches its way across a virtual piece of paper that makes the most confusing of heartache as simple as organizing a five-paragraph-essay. It makes things clear.

There’s something mysterious, I think, about happiness that makes us afraid to unwrap it piece by piece in fear of being disappointed. Or at least, that’s what I’ve thought until now.

Maybe it’s the fear of being wrong. I think mainly it’s the fear of being wrong, that keeps people from looking deeper into something that’s wonderful. The fear of looking dumb, of hurting yourself in the long term by being real about feelings in the now because deep down we’re all innately and acutely aware of how marvelously out of our hands this life is.

I’m not immune to any of that, to all of that. I’m human. But I have this feeling that maybe sharing when I’m happy will help steer the online attitudes about real, raw life into just that, happy.

I made this blog with a promise to whoever you are, wherever you are, reading this or skimming this – and to myself. I’m going to keep it. So, here we go.

I met a boy. Most of you have probably realized that already, on account of how I write about love and am now writing about being happy and also the whole I’ve posted with a male person on social media multiple times and oh-my-God-social-media-is-ruining!!!!-relationships!!!-there-is-NO-HOPE-for-millennials (when are we going to stop blaming technology and start blaming ourselves?), I’m just going to confirm it, I met a boy.

And I’m happy. But I want to get something straight right off the bat. I am not happy just because I met a boy.

Please reread that, like, lets say, 7 times.

I am happy. I met a boy. I am not happy just because I met a boy. 

He does, however, make me happy. (see circular mode of thinking above)

He is wonderful and genuine and amazing and kind and honestly is probably reading this because he remembers little things about me like when I nervously post these (and realistically because I will text him that this is up) and he’s really quite private so he’s probably rolling his eyes a little right now (oh, dear) but he knew what he was getting into dating a girl with a personal blog about love so here we are. I met a boy.

So far, I’m pretty keen on him, as you can tell. Maybe you’ll hear about him for years and years, maybe I’ll look silly. Life is weird. This is vulnerable. This is real.

He likes live music for whatever reason. We saw a blues band this past weekend, I thought they were a jazz band for the majority of their set. Sue me. Regardless, they reminded me of him. Everyone was carefree. People of all colors and backgrounds in a little run down restaurant went from clapping to dancing while the lead singer played the harmonica to a song he wrote himself. He took tips in his worn out hat, made the wrinkles on his shirt dance while he hummed tones that made it feel like I’d known him forever.

It was simple, it was wonderful, it was happy

Happiness is a journey, a choice, it’s millions of little bits throughout the day – it looks different to each and every one of us, but it feels the same.

I hope you all think a little about something making you happy right now, whatever that may be.

More happiness people, more jazz.

See you next week,





On Root Canals

Hi, me again! Same gal, one less living tooth.

Wonderful visual for all of you, I hope. I also hope you’ve had good Labor Day Weekends/following weekdays. I did! I didn’t want to post on Monday like usual because I hoped none of you would be on digital devices on account of it being a national holiday, but I also didn’t want to post on this coming Monday on account of it being 9/11, so here we are.

Now that we’ve gotten all of that out of the way, let’s talk about root canals.
Actually, let’s talk about dentists.

So I’m terrified of the dentist. Literally terrified. I would rather spend an entire night locked in a room with a creepy looking clown thing reading off every Facebook post I thought to make in 2007 than go to the dentist. That terrified.

I write and talk and try to advise people on how to live happy and well and most of that advice – coupled with every reassurance I give potential employers about my reliability (I am very reliable potential employers if you’re reading this just stick with me until the end here) – is based on the idea of conquering things that scare you. Don’t let fear run you dry. Learn to love it. Learn to accept it. Fear is good.

Naturally, I had avoided seeing my dentist for about a year until last Tuesday.

I brush and floss twice a day! Okay? I’ve been at school! I don’t even like candy and I’ve literally never had a cavity in my entire life. (okay, maybe one, but that’s not the point)

The point is last Tuesday my lower right tooth started to hurt for absolutely no reason at all. And last Wednesday? I woke up in throbbing pain at 4am with the worst gut instinct I have had, to date.

“Maybe I should call my dentist”

After a few X-Rays, more than a few tears, and a confusing train of conversation, I left my primary dentist’s office with an appointment that day for an emergency root canal.

Now for any of you actual adults reading this who can properly deal with stressful situations/have lived through worse scenarios, I can understand if you’re rolling your eyes. It’s a root canal, no big deal, could be worse.

I am cognisant of my luck in terms of life. Grateful that, thus far, not much has rivaled the past week in terms of pain. However, terrified of the dentist. This outcome was quite literally the absolute worst case scenario in my brain. It was one of the very reasons I avoid going to the dentist as much as possible! This!!!

Turns out, teeth can decide to literally decease on their own. Don’t believe me? I didn’t believe it either until my mouth was drilled. It’s possible, it’s actually not always preventable, and it’s thankfully, fixable.

In  my case, my little right tooth’s passing on wasn’t preventable at all. No amount of candy, lack of flossing, or deterrence of dental visits could have truly prevented the act of getting a root canal.

And honestly, I’m kinda thankful for it all.

Today, I’m returning to my dentist to fill the tippy top of my little right tooth. In the past week I have had three appointments at the Endodontist (Dr. Andrew Bradley, one of the nicest doctors I have ever met in my entire life, who’s job is to save little teeth!!).

Some longer than others, only one novacane-free (why is that needle so long can somebody please get on this), all calmly and expertly explained beforehand. I was treated with the utmost care, patiently listened to until I completely understood what would be done to my little tooth, I felt safe.

I guess what I’m trying to say is this, it’s normal to be afraid of things. Fear is empowering and interesting and complex but most importantly, it’s scary. It’s normal to want to avoid something you are afraid of. However, just like my first dog’s relationship with our vacuum (RIP Chance the best dog in the world) not everything you’re afraid of is all that bad, when you really look at it.

Cut yourself some slack, breathe deeply every once in awhile, and if one of your teeth start to throb, call your dentist.

Talk to you soon,



On Silence

Hey! Me again. Hope you’ve all had wonderful weekends. Even if you didn’t, today’s weather is finally brisk! The best weather in the land! Wahoo!


Let’s talk about silence. First of all, I’d like to admit the fact that I love Taylor Swift. Like, a lot. Not because of her hair or her outfits or her vocal range either – I love Taylor Swift because I honestly love most of her songs. Yes, I mean literally almost all of them.


Taylor Swift tends to be a controversial topic nowadays, which I find to be a funny sentence.


If you think about it, or at least, if I think about it, Taylor Swift has kinda always been a controversial topic during all-a-days(?). She’s been too; “rude”, “entitled”, “passive aggressive”, “crazy”, “shallow”, “dumb”, “untalented”, “obnoxious”, “blonde” – she’s literally even been called too tall?! She’s been called a lot, but with all of that, she hasn’t been called one thing;




And that very thing is why I love her. It’s the reason I listened to “Bad Blood” millions of times even though I just don’t ~vibe~ with the hook (sorry, Tay). It’s the reason I defend her to people I barely know, the reason it took me a while to admit to liking Kanye West, the reason I was tormented over admitting to enjoy listening to John Mayer (STILL A JERK), the reason I’m so happy when I see her succeed.


She is so many things, but silent isn’t one of them.


And no, this isn’t meant to be a fan page for Taylor Swift (not that I wouldn’t ever in the future write one #mygirl #13) but an encouragement for anyone and everyone who knows a little, a lot, or even nothing about her at all.

Whether you hate her, love her, think she’s certifiable or overrated, by thinking anything you’re admitting you know who she is. And I want you to hold onto that feeling for a second.


Each and every one of you has a reason for being here. Each and every one of you is going to, at one point or another, make an impact on this planet. You quite literally already have, with the whole breathing-out-CO2-thing, but I believe wholeheartedly your futures are more than just gas. As much as I believe all of that, I want to remind you of something.


Nobody ever made history by being silent.


And yeah, I know some of you bitterly reading this (thank you for the views) are going to be all “ACTUALLY THERE WAS ONE TIME WHERE SO AND SO WAS SILENT AND THE WORLD WAS BETTER AND LIKE THEY DIDN’T TALK SO LIKE YOU’RE WRONG” and that’s totally fine.


Rather, I’d like to thank you all for helping with this exercise.


People have made history who literally couldn’t speak. I can admit that. Moreover, I raise you this, I don’t think you need to speak in order not to be silent. HA! Take that!


Take this for example, I’m typing. I’m not even speaking out loud. My fingers are speaking (is that a thing) and I will soon proofread this, post this, and BAM. Silence over this topic shattered! Hopefully, people reached!


What I mean to say is this. Everyday we are faced with situations and people and challenges that test our opinions and morals and feelings. And it’s cool, and it’s fun. Life is, that is.


Breaking silence causes change always, and I think that’s why most people shy away from doing it – because change, to them, means controversy. And I agree, it can. And I agree, that isn’t fun all the time.


Sometimes, I believe, we forget how powerful silence can be. Most times, I believe, we forget that being silent in the face of adversity that tests your morals or opinions or feelings can be just as powerful. Just as painful.


It’s not easy, as we’ve all come to understand that the most “right” things tend not to be. But as all “right” things tend to be, it is most definitely worth it.


It can be as simple as texting to include the shy kid from your class in your plans, as natural as going out of your way to thank a worker you see colleagues disrespecting, as genuine as handwriting a card to someone you care about in a time of need.


Take it from a bratty college girl who had her Gingerbread Latte defended by kind stranger in November, however you choose to break it, it makes a difference.


In the words of my dear friend Taylor, “Speak Now”. (I just had to)


Thinking of you all



On Entitlement

I want you to take a second to think about somebody you know who didn’t graduate from college.


Maybe they never wanted to, maybe they weren’t ever able to, maybe they never even enrolled. Regardless, I want you to think about them, please.


Now I want you to think about what they’re doing. Maybe they aren’t scrolling LinkedIN applying for unpaid social media internships or aimlessly existing watching hours of Netflix on end, maybe they are. Maybe they’re working, maybe it’s in a field you wouldn’t ever personally consider. Maybe, without ever realizing it, you’ve been subconsciously judging them for straying from the path in which you found your own success. Hopefully, you aren’t.


I’m not one to lie about the privilege I’ve been given in this life. I am extremely thankful for my background, my friends, my town, my timing. I’m a very strong believer in timing, in chance, in luck. I am lucky, I am grateful. As strong as a believer I am in luck, however, I am tenfold a believer in effort. In faith, in believing in something.


Where am I going with this? I’m going to come out and say it, I don’t believe college is for everyone. I don’t believe everyone should go to college. Oh, and here’s the kicker; I don’t believe people who went to college are any smarter than those who didn’t.


Let that sink in. Now I went to college, graduated with a Marketing Degree, gained understanding of Microsoft Excel, Powerpoint, Google Adwords, Accounting and Finance. I can play with numbers, present large scale ideas with well thought out SMART goals behind them, I can lead, and I can delegate. I can write.


But do you know what I can’t do? Alot.


I can’t build a house. I can’t, really, stop a fire (even if I’ve started it). I know nothing about landscaping, except that I am not, and never will be strong enough to move that equipment or agile enough to operate it in such an intricate manner. I can’t break down and set up town events, I wouldn’t know how to package or un-package those white tents. I can’t memorize a menu of food, let alone take down legible notes in under 3 minutes. I can’t plumb, or tile, or fix a car.


I just simply can’t.


I apply to jobs that utilize the skills I have harnessed throughout the past four years of my undergraduate schooling, and chances are those won’t make me physically any stronger at the end of the day.


But a lot of jobs will.


There’s this quote Einstein used to say (I say in the confidence of somebody who was his friend years ago) about intelligence. Now if you don’t know who Einstein is, he’s this guy who years and years ago discovered matter, energy, and like, force and stuff. Science loves him. He’s probably on one, if not many, of your posters in your dentist’s office.


(sidenote, why do dentists praise him? Have we as a species ever delved into the anthropological reasoning for that?)


Anyway, he’s there. And this is what he said,


“Everyone is a genius. But if you judge a fish on it’s ability to climb a tree, it will live its entire life believing it is stupid.”


And I love it. And I think we should think about it more than every 6 months during our dental cleanings.


See matter, energy, and force can’t really be seen. They influence literally every part of our day to day lives, in almost every aspect, but their behavior is kind of inconspicuous.


Einstein was a smart guy who focused on something people didn’t think twice about. He studied it, worked with it, he picked it to define his passion in a time where people were focused on being passionate about frankly more visible things.


Remember the person, or people, I told you to think about before? Is this starting to make sense now?


I’m tired, frankly, of society glorifying an idea of a singular path for success, because success and it’s definition are if anything individualized, not unanimous. If we all had the same idea of what success was and how to achieve it, we literally would be living in a world that couldn’t function.


Everyone wants to be an actress? Who’s going to make the movies? Who’s going to watch them? Who’s going to make the set? Everyone wants to be a CEO? Well, who’s going to run the day to day operations of the company? Better yet, who is the company even going to target? Who’s going to need them?


If I have learned anything during the past four years of school, it is that my job, whatever it will be, needs people who don’t do the same thing. They are integral, they are important, and they are undervalued.


We live in a complex world, a digital world, an ever changing world. That world relies on us, much like Einstein’s laws, to stay balanced. Each and every one of us has not only a purpose, but a genius – and the real genius in it all is around the fact that not all of our genius’ are the same genius.


We should be more in awe of anyone who’s already on the track of their genius. In turn, we should be thankful that there are enough tracks, and enough differences, for all of us to stay swimming.


Digitally yours,