Yesterday was my 29th birthday. Hard to believe that I’m beginning the last year of the second decade of my life, that the much-hyped “30” is looming only 364 days ahead of me.
There are a couple cool things about my birthday. The first is that the date I was born, 7/14/84, is comprised all of numbers that are divisible by 7. Not surprisingly, 7 has always been my lucky number. The other really neat thing about my birthday, and the thing that is most special to me, is that I get to share my birthday with my wonderful Dad. I love that we get to share our birthday and have some awesome memories of growing up and spending the day together. My mom always took special care to make sure that we were each spoiled on our birthdays – when I was little, she even made two different birthday cakes! In fact, one of the things that made me saddest when I contemplated a move out of state was the possibility that I wouldn’t get to spend birthdays with Dad anymore. Happily, this birthday was my fourth since I’ve been away, and even if we haven’t been together on the exact date, my parents and I have gotten to see each other every year since I left.
This year, Mom and Dad flew up for a long weekend of some Seattle sun and fun a few days before mine and Dad’s birthday. We had a really nice time, enjoying breakfast together at Lowell’s at Pike Place Market, taking an Argosy Cruise through the Hiram M. Chittenden Locks (if you’ve never done this, I highly recommend it! So much fun and so informative!), and enjoying the sights on Whidbey Island, including a trip to Fort Casey and Deception Pass. In between exploring expeditions, we ate way too much, visiting some of our favorite Northwest restaurants like Anthony’s and Ray’s Boathouse, in addition to enjoying some backyard grilling and Paul’s very famous steaks. I think summertime is the best time of year for people to visit the Northwest. It’s so beautiful, they can’t help but fall in love!

 
At the Argosy Cruise
Another great thing about the Northwest is that I live much closer to my cousins, who live only a few hours away near Vancouver. We were able to get together last weekend for a birthday lunch and pedicures, and had a great time. I’ve really connected with my cousins since moving to Washington, and they’re now among the most special people in my life. My cousin Caitlyn couldn’t make it to lunch, but she sent me a beautiful card and the most adorable drawing of a cat, which is now in my cubicle at work where I can see it every day and smile.
 
                          Pretty Toes
Yesterday was my actual birthday. I knew the moment I woke up what I wanted to do first: I called Dad, and we swapped stories of plans for the day and talked for awhile. I was a little sad that I wasn’t going to be there for the birthday party he was having with the rest of my family that day (Mom made her famous potato salad AND an ice cream cake! I confess, I almost hopped a plane to California!).
Paul made sure I had a spectacular day. We went to Blazing Onion for lunch, as my main requirement was that I wanted to eat somewhere that had a patio so we could sit in the sun while we ate. After lunch, we spent a leisurely afternoon in the backyard, soaking up the sun. In the evening, Paul took me out for a nice dinner at Arnie’s, a seafood restaurant in Edmonds. I honestly don’t think I could ever get tired of seafood! Paul and I had never been to Arnie’s, and after our dinner there I would definitely go back. The food was delicious and the service was very attentive. We finished off the evening with chocolate mint cupcakes that Paul brought home from Simply Sweet Cupcakes, my very favorite  cupcake bakery in Washington.
Today, I came into work to find adorable desk decorations arranged for me by my boss. Since my coworker and friend Bob also shares my birthday, he had decorations of his own waiting for him. We got to work, and mid-morning I received a call from the front desk that there was something waiting for me. My wonderful friend Kate sent me a bouquet of flowers for my birthday! She knows how much I like receiving flowers and she’s out of town for work, so she made sure I still had something special (hurry back anyways, Kate. It’s lonely without you!).
Over the last week, I’ve also received birthday presents and cards, sweet text messages, and thoughtful Facebook posts, wishing me a happy birthday. For everyone who thought of me, thank you so much. You have no idea how much your love means to me and how happy it has made me feel!
Thank you to all my wonderful family and friends for making my birthday so special; for all the thoughtful gifts, for the time spent together, for the lovely birthday wishes!
 

I wrote this post awhile back, but when I wrote it I didn’t intend to publish it or share it. It was just for me, to express relief over finally finding a new level of self-acceptance that I didn’t even know that I was looking for. I decided to share it now not just because I’m in a much better place, but because I think it could be a benefit to others that may stumble across my blog. 
Internal monologue, also known as interior monologue, inner voice, internal speech, or stream of consciousness is thinking in words. It also refers to the semi-constant internal monologue one has with oneself at a conscious or semi-conscious level.
–Wikipedia
I don’t know why, but I never really considered my thought process to be an inner monologue, although of course it is just that. My thought process is a stream of narration from an inner voice, one that internally comments on everything I see and hear. And I have to admit, the narrator of my inner monologue is something of a critical bitch. She seldom has anything nice to say to me about anything. “See that girl?” she hisses in my ear. “That girl is prettier than you, and smarter, and more successful. You will never be that good.”
For years, this has been my reality. My day to day life was fraught with harsh self-criticisms that at some point, I lost all perspective on. They were so ingrained in my psyche that I didn’t even consciously examine them, just accepted them for truth and fought a never-ending battle to try to change them. Never mind that no matter who I became, they never DID change. It was a constant cycle of me working my ass off to be successful enough, smart enough, thin enough….GOOD enough. But because the dialogue never changed, it didn’t matter how much I as a person changed – the criticisms were still there. And frankly, that’s an exhausting existence.
After becoming aware of the concept of the inner monologue, I then had the consciousness that I could change mine. The next morning when I was getting ready for work, my Inner Narrator began her typical running commentary on how I didn’t look good, my clothes didn’t fit right, and I would be worse than all the rest today, so why bother trying in the first place. For the very first time, I had a shocking revelation: no one has EVER said things like that to me. For the first time, I could actually see that I didn’t have negative ideas about myself because other people had planted them in my head. I had them because I had repeatedly said those things internally about myself. 
Recognizing that you have an unhealthy internal monologue is one thing. Changing that unhealthy internal monologue is an entirely different undertaking, and not nearly as easy as the realization of its existance. I’m retraining my mind after years of detrimental thoughts. When that Inner Narrator hisses at me, “You look really fat today,” I am learning to roll my eyes at her and say, “No, I don’t. Shut up. I’m just fine today.” The whole process reminds me of a part of the movie ‘The Help’, when kindly maid Aibileen is telling her charge Mae Mobley You is kind, you is smart, you is important, and teaching the child to repeat it back about herself. The idea behind that exercise was to instill in the little girl a sense of self-worth, and to help her develop a positive inner monologue. Perhaps we all ought to recite these things to ourselves.
Does the Inner Narrator still get to me? Sometimes, yes, absolutely she does. She’s got a knack for sensing insecurities and preying on them. The important thing is learning to dismiss negative thoughts and to ultimately replace them with positive ones. I will say that since I’ve embarked on this change in thought process, I’ve noticed a change in my internal monologue. I’m steering it to a more positive place, one where Inner Narrator and I will ultimately be able to coexist peacefully.

Over the last few weeks, for the most part I’ve tried to keep my blog posts to the fluffy, upbeat variety. There’s nothing wrong with that type of writing, but a lot of my reasoning behind it was that I was dealing with some not-so-fun stuff and have been feeling pretty wrung out. Now that I’ve seemingly come through to the other side of my recent difficulties, I feel like I can be open about what I’ve experienced and what I’ve taken away from it.
“Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.”  -Unknown
Ever have a situation that starts unremarkably enough, but then snowballs? That was what happened with my oldest cat, Angel. One morning I was playing with her, and noticed a strange-looking growth coming out of her paw pad, curving upward toward her claw. I’d never seen anything like it, and although I wasn’t terribly concerned, I did want to get it checked out. I did some research on the Internets and was fairly confident that she had what’s called a Horned Paw Pad. According to what I read, if that was all the growth was then it could be trimmed with kitty nail clippers to keep it from bothering her. But since I didn’t know for sure, I made an appointment to have her seen by the vet.
The vet confirmed my suspicions: Angel’s growth was a horned paw pad. She demonstrated for me how to keep it trimmed, and that should have been that. But as she looked over my kitty, she also noticed that Angel was showing signs of gum disease, and may need to have as many as two teeth extracted. So we made an appointment for Angel to have pre-op blood work followed by a dental cleaning (cats are put under anesthetic for dental procedures). The blood work was recommended due to Angel’s age (she’s eleven), and even though it was optional, I agreed to have it done, just because of the slim chance that something could go wrong in surgery. So this led to a second trip to the vet to have her blood drawn, and then the main event, the morning of her surgery. The plan for the morning was simple: I’d drop Angel off and go to work, and then pick her up in the evening. But in my life, things seldom go as planned, and this was no exception. The vet explained to me that Angel’s blood work had revealed a slight abnormality in her kidney function, which was cause for enough concern to hold my kitty overnight after her surgery to administer post-op fluids and monitor her, as well as to run more tests. Although I wasn’t really happy not to have my girl overnight, I agreed, and I managed to make it out to my car and drive to work without crying or getting too upset. I’m trying to learn not to freak out until I have a reason to, and at that point, I didn’t know anything. I arranged to take the next day off from work so that I could pick up Angel and stay home with her since she was going to be pretty unhappy post-surgery.
Angel’s vet stay had mixed results: happily, she went through surgery well, and more tests revealed that her kidney function may just be slightly lower than is considered “normal” in cats. She’ll have another test in a few months just to make sure her levels are staying, well, level. On the gum disease front, the news wasn’t as good: she ended up having a total of seven teeth extracted. All things considered, she did great, and she’s now fully recovered and her normal happy self. Missing some of her teeth doesn’t seem to daunt her whatsoever.
 

 
I would do anything for this girl. 
Here’s the thing about trips to the vet: they’re expensive. I knew when I adopted cats that there was a chance that over time they’d have medical issues, and I’ll gladly pay whatever I need to in order to keep my babies happy and healthy. I will never begrudge one of my pets the cost of their vet bills. But it IS costly, and without another thought to it I charged all of Angel’s medical treatments to my credit card with the plan of paying off the balance when I got my paycheck. So imagine my shock when I checked my bank account and realized that my paycheck was $1200 short of what it should have been. Again, no reason to panic until I know what’s going on, and I absolutely assumed that my missing money was an annoying payroll error that I could have corrected.
Never assume. Never, never, never.
My shortened paycheck was actually my company’s way of notifying me that a portion of my pay was going to be calculated differently, which, long story short, translates into my being paid $1200 less per month. I was upset about the change and outraged that no one had the courtesy to notify me or my boss that this was going to happen. All I could think about was the balance on my credit card for vet bills that I had slated that $1200 for and now wouldn’t be getting.
Ultimately the higher-ups did agree that it was a lousy way to handle things, and I am being paid on my normal scale until July, when the new pay rate kicks in. If there’s a silver lining to all of this, it’s that I have had a huge wake-up call to pay more attention to how much I’m spending and to budget my money better. I’ve made a lot of financial changes to my life, some that bum me out (like not getting my nails done). But I know this will help me to be better off in the long run. Overnight, my priorities when it came to spending changed dramatically.
I admit, in the aftermath of all this, I’ve been pretty down (hence the reason for fluff blog posts….not that I think those are bad). But I’m slowly finding the good in my new reality. Like in the mornings when Angel comes into the bathroom to “help” me get ready for work, when she meows and chatters at me, when she hogs my pillow at night, I’m just so grateful to see her healthy and back to her old self again. My family and friends have rallied around me and supported me, even when I’m sure I’ve sounded like a broken record complaining about things, and the love I’ve felt is overwhelming. No one seems to care if I don’t have the money to pick up the tab for lunch or go out anymore. In fact, one of the best days I’ve had lately was last Sunday, when Paul and I just stayed home and lounged in the backyard and had a lazy afternoon together. And I know there are people out there who have it much, much worse than me, like the sweet girl I work with who just lost her sister in a car accident. Compared to her, I have it easy, and no doubt she’d give anything to trade places with me.
“You never know how truly blessed you are in life until you see someone who has it worse than you.”  -Unknown
So I’ll take the good with the bad, and I am grateful that my loved ones are happy and (once again) healthy. I know that a time will come with my beloved kitties when the story isn’t going to end happily ever after, and I’m just thankful that this time, it did.
“Let’s not allow ourselves to be upset by small things we should despise and forget. Remember ‘Life is too short to be little’” –– Dale Carnegie

At the beginning of this year, I finally found the motivation to return to college in pursuit of my Bachelor’s degree (I earned my Associate’s back in 2010). When I enrolled at WSU, I imagined the proud day when I would finally graduate and declare triumphantly that I had beaten the odds and finished college.
Up til now, all of my online courses have allowed for open-book exams that I could take at home. But this semester, I’m enrolled in a business law class which required me to actually take a closed-book, proctored exam (basically, I had to take the test in front of a certified supervisor to ensure that I didn’t cheat). This was a first for me: I’ve never taken a proctored exam before and I haven’t taken a test that wasn’t open-book (and open-Google!) in about ten years. I studied for hours but still felt unprepared, and as I left work to take the test last night, I was incredibly nervous.
I had scheduled my proctored exam at Everett Community College, the approved location that was closest to my office. As I drove onto the campus, I saw the stereotypical college scenes: students walking along, carrying books and laughing together, perfectly manicured lawns, and a plethora of parking spaces that were reserved and threatened fines and tow-aways if non-special people like me dared park there (that part of college campuses, I do not miss). I was early and had loads of time to drive around until I finally located visitor parking. I paid for my one-day parking pass and gathered up my notebook and purse to go in and take my test.
The exam itself was easy enough. I chose a computer that faced a window, and when I needed a moment to collect my thoughts, I looked out at the campus. The tall brick buildings, the sidewalks lined with leafy trees…this reminded me a lot of my community college days.
I only attended community college full-time for one semester, right out of high school. Although I had hated high school for the most part, I loved college. I loved getting to campus early and meeting friends for coffee in the student center. I loved the professors who weren’t just talking to drones of students who had no choice but to be there, but were teaching adults who were choosing to attend the classes. I loved the instruction I got, especially from my English professors, who encouraged me wholeheartedly to write. While I admit that I skipped my fair share of classes, I did incredibly well that first semester, and ended up with a high GPA and a place of honor on the Dean’s list.
Then, over the winter break, my life changed drastically. I found myself moving out of my parents’ house, changing jobs, and getting married, none of which was conducive to continuing life as a full-time college student. I couldn’t really afford classes and I no longer had a work schedule that was flexible enough to allow me to go.
I did try to go back, a year later. I took a night class at the school during spring semester, but then over the summer, my world changed drastically again when I filed for divorce. I dropped out of college yet again, and that time I stayed dropped out until 2008, when my coworkers clued me into the benefits of company-provided tuition assistance as they started attending University of Phoenix. I followed suit and completed my final classes for my Associate’s degree over a year and a half. I tried to stick with the program and continue for my Bachelor’s degree, but I disliked the format of UoP’s Bachelor program (it’s not a bad program really, but there are a lot of group assignments, which I didn’t enjoy and found difficult to do with much success in an online environment). After a couple classes, I called it quits.
I knew I needed to find another program, but I enjoyed working full-time without the hassles of trying to complete college coursework at the same time. I was getting good opportunities to try new things that I liked at work, so I lost some of the drive to finish school that I had when I was working as an online rep in a call center. Which is how I ended up here, today, nearly twenty-nine years old and still in college.
I thought about all of that as I paid the proctor for monitoring my exam and walked back to my car. I slowly drove off campus, being flooded again with the sight of students walking to and from class on the campus. They had no idea how much I envied them in that moment, those lucky students who were able to attend class IN CLASS instead of via the Internet, who could go on campus and have the college experience. I fought back a sudden urge to cry as I looked at my own life and realized what a disservice I had done to myself when I quit taking advantage of the opportunity I’d had to be one of those students. I know I will never get to have that life now, and I know that I’ll most likely be in my mid-thirties by the time I can finish my degree.
For the most part, I’m at peace with the choices I’ve made thus far in my life, good and bad. Every single step I’ve taken has led me to where I am now, and overall I love my life. It’s true that I have no idea where I would be  if I had chosen a different path and continued college, and that I wouldn’t necessarily be happier than I am now. But for a moment last night, I vividly remembered moments on campus during that first semester that I attended college, and I ached for that happy time.
I’m not exactly sure why my visit to campus yesterday affected me so deeply, but even today the melancholy feeling that I’d made a terrible mistake clung to me. There’s really nothing I can do but live with the regret, and remember that feeling so that I continue to push myself. If I can stay committed to college this time, and finally graduate, then maybe I’ll be able to find peace with the mistakes that I made.

 
So, this is me. I’m blonde (well, I dye my hair blonde, anyway). I wear makeup every day, and I have a wardrobe that mostly consists of professional office attire. However, this wasn’t always my fashion statement. When I was in my first semester of college, I faded to black, so to speak….I was what would be best described as Goth.
Gothic fashion is a clothing style that consists of a dark, sometimes morbid, style of dress.Typical Gothic fashion would include a pale complexion paired with dark hair and nails, dark makeup (worn by both men and women) and dark clothes. During my Goth phase I had quite a few male friends that would sport black nail polish and even black eyeliner.
 

 
 
This is a picture of me at the height of my Gothic phase. Although I never dyed my naturally-light hair black, I did sport all-black clothes, dark makeup, and black nail polish. I loved the style and thought it was very freeing to shake up my girl-next-door image with band T-shirts and pants with chains on them.
Although my look was dark, I was far from depressed. In fact, I remember this period in my life to be one of the most carefree and fun times I’ve had. It was the first time in my eighteen years that I’d done and worn what I wanted without caring at all what others thought of me. It was during my Goth phase that I realized that fashion was fun, and that clothes could make a statement about who I am instead of helping me blend into the crowd. Daring to express myself in a not-so-common style helped me come into my own and develop a sense of self-confidence and individuality.
The black clothes and dark makeup are long gone, and over the last ten years I’ve experimented with many different hair colors and dress styles. I’ve found that I ultimately prefer my nails to be manicured to acrylic perfection, and I would rather sport light, pretty makeup than I would thick black eyeliner. But I still look back fondly on the days when my wardrobe came from Hot Topic and I delighted in being different.
How have you experimented with different fashion styles over the years?
 

Last week I wrote a scathing open letter to Good Morning America after they did an “interview” potraying Internet celeb Jenna Marbles in a not-so-kind light. One example of why I love Jenna so much is that she comes off as confident and comfortable in her own skin. Her most recent video, Things I’m Awesome At,  lists some of the not-so-ordinary things that she’s really good at, and encourages her fans to make lists of their own and post them in a place that they’ll be able to see them easily when they’re feeling sad.
I’ve been really stressed out lately. This coming week, I have finals (if you know me, you know the mere mention of the word “test” is enough to make me run for the special stomach-flu bucket), and my oldest cat Angel has surgery scheduled to clean and possibly extract two of her teeth. I’ve had to manipulate my work schedule so that I can take time off for Angel’s vet appointments (because of her age, she’ll be having a round of pre-op labs to make sure that she won’t have adverse affects to anesthetic), and I’m feeling stretched incredibly thin. So, with a rough week up ahead, I thought it might be a really good time to make myself a pick-me-up list of my abilities. So, I present to you, Things I’m Awesome At.
 
Googling Things
Is ‘googling’ a verb? Well, it should be, because I freaking rock at looking things up on Google. If you need to know something, and it is present anywhere on the Internet, you bet your ass I will find that shit for you. People text me and instant message me all the time, asking me if I know things. Need to know when the post office closes? I can find that for you! Want to know the calories in a Dairy Queen mini Cookie Dough blizzard? I’ve got that right here (I’m not going to put it in this post though, because trust me….you don’t want to know. Just eat the thing and enjoy it). I think my amazing Google search skills may have come from my job doing directory assistance. I learned to isolate the key words and phrases in order to find the information I wanted, and to find it quickly. Or maybe I was just born with fabulous Internet-information-finding skills. Whatever the origin of my gift, as long as I have access to the Internet, I will be able to Google myself into or out of anything I please.
 
Remembering Phone Numbers and Addresses
The other day, Paul and I went to Petsmart. As we were checking out, the clerk ringing me up asked if I had a reward card. I’d lost the little card ages ago, but I told her I had a phone number and rattled off my old California home phone number. “I can’t believe you remembered that,” Paul had said to me as we walked through the parking lot. See, I have a mind like a steel trap for phone numbers. I also retain addresses. I could still tell you every address of everywhere I have ever lived, with the exception of the house I was born in (we moved away from there before I was old enough to remember much of anything). My knack at remembering phone numbers far predates my employment at the phone company: I still remember a fourteen-year-old me, in the backseat of my parents’ car, rattling off the realtor’s phone number for my mom as we were house-hunting. Of course, this may be a dying skill, because nowadays I just enter people’s phone numbers into my cell phone and never look at the actual number in the contact again. But any number that I physically dial, I will remember.
 
Making Ordinary Things Sound Dirty
Ever seen one of those bumper stickers that say, “If it weren’t for the gutter, my mind would be homeless”? Well….yeah. That’s me. Call it immaturity, but I just think I have a way with words. If you’re telling me about your wood, your bush, or how long something is….I’m probably going to giggle and I may even reply to whatever you’ve said with , “Heh, you said *insert word I’m making dirty*”. Luckily, most of the people I choose to be in the company of, appreciate this skill or have it themselves. Yes, it may be slapstick humor at best, but if I’m going to do it, at least I ROCK it.
 
Making Random, Senseless Music Playlists
When I was growing up, my parents primarily listened to country music, and although I tried to deny this part of myself for years, the truth is that I do enjoy some of the artists and songs. To go to the complete other side of the spectrum, I went through a brief semi-Goth phase during my first semester of college, during which I painted my nails black, wore all-black clothing, and tested the limits of the speakers in my ’99 Mustang as I blasted metal as high as I could stand to listen to it. In the middle are several other non-related musical genres that I have loved: my high school obsession was with the Backstreet Boys, my brother got me into Green Day, and in my twenties I fell head-over-heels in love with Pink. Now, all my varied tastes are incorporated into my iTunes library, and even though I’m getting better about making playlists grouping artists whose sounds are alike, there still remains a large variety when I hit Shuffle. Would Metallica be happy knowing that as soon as they play the last strains of Wherever I May Roam, that I will be belting out a Carrie Underwood song? I don’t know, but listeners beware: my playlists are eclectic. You’ve been warned.
 
Making Delicious Desserts
I wouldn’t say I necessarily suck at cooking. I haven’t put enough effort into it during my lifetime to know whether or not I suck at it. I do know that I don’t particularly enjoy it, and since I was lucky enough to find a boyfriend that does, I’ve pretty much managed to stay out of the kitchen during meal preparations.
Surprisingly enough, even though cooking does absolutely nothing for me, I looooove to bake. I used to really enjoy making cookies or brownies after school when I was younger, and that passion was reignited when cupcake places became trendy. Paul and I have sampled quite a few different cupcakes from different bakeries, and a couple years ago I thought, hey, I can do this. So I started whipping up cupcakes and taking them to work. Paul indulged me and bought me a really nice Kitchenaid mixer for Christmas so that I could do my baking. Then I sort of drifted away from the hobby as Paul and I began watching what we ate, and I stopped baking until last fall, when I discovered Pinterest. At first I had no clue what the point of the site was, but then I had an aha moment when I found that I could pin recipes for desserts. For some reason, I was instantly drawn to the cookies. There are just so many cool ideas out there! I resumed my baking hobby as the weather turned cold, and have produced some really fantastic treats. I’ve made pumpkin spice thumbprints, red velvet cookies, Andes mint cookies, cake batter cookies…the list goes on and on (I’ve taken pictures as I do the recipes, but I rarely getting around to actually posting them on my blog…I need to get better at that).
 
Well, that’s probably a good start to a list of things I’m awesome at. I’m posting it here not only to brag (I am bragging just a little) but also to have it nearby if I ever feel sad and need to look at it for encouragement.
What things are you awesome at?

Dear Good Morning America,
Let me start by saying, I have a huge girl crush on YouTube sensation Jenna Mourey, aka Jenna Marbles, the 26-year-old woman who couldn’t land a steady-paying job after earning her masters degree, but became famous by posting funny videos of herself on the internet. Jenna’s weekly videos range from rants to updates about her life to comedic craziness.
I only recently discovered Jenna, and it was love at first click. She’s an animal-loving, foul-mouthed girl who, although reportedly shy in person, gets in front of her webcam and spews forth all sorts of opinions on the world that, quite frankly, a lot of us are thinking and just don’t have the guts to say out loud. The New York Times recently described Jenna as “The Woman With 1 Billion Clicks” for her widespread internet fame. Although her YouTube channel was new to me, it appears I live under a rock because pretty much everyone I’ve asked has heard of her. The reactions are mixed – some people find her hilarious, while others are turned off by her swearing and sometimes-racy content – but I find her hysterical and have spent more hours than I care to admit watching her videos. So, I was excited this week to see that one of your reporters, Cecilia Vega, sat down to interview Jenna, and was looking forward to learning more about her.
Quite frankly, GMA…to say I was disappointed is an understatement. The footage that actually aired on your show sucked. All Cecilia really did is add a tick counter tallying the times that Jenna said the word ‘ridiculous’ when describing her fame and fans, and asked her questions about whether she thought she “deserved” to have as many fans as she does. Although I read on Jenna’s blog that she spent about an hour talking with Cecilia, nothing of substance made it to airtime. Instead, Jenna was left looking like a ditzy blonde with nothing to say (you can watch the video here).
What the fuck, GMA? If you weren’t interested in hearing how this girl rose to fame by making videos on the internet, then don’t talk to her. Don’t waste your time or hers if you’re not actually interested in reporting about her life. If you don’t find her achievements newsworthy, then don’t put her in a segment.
Airing that “interview” was a major dick move on your part. I get that Jenna’s sense of humor isn’t for everyone, and that’s totally okay with me. What’s NOT okay with me is to feign interest in a person just so that you can interview them for an hour straight, hack up that interview and select a few minutes’ worth of footage (tops) to air out of context, and make your interview subject look like an idiot. Your passive-aggressive mocking of Jenna Marbles would piss me off even if I didn’t adore her, because it was shoddy reporting. You took an opportunity to reveal a more vulnerable side of someone who made her success by being funny, and instead you mocked her and made her look like a joke. Jenna’s fans are fierce, and I’ve already seen Cecilia Vega suffering the much-deserved backlash on Facebook and Twitter.
What we Jenna Marbles fans want, GMA, is for you to stick Cecilia in front of a camera, and tell her to publicly apologize for that ridiculous (yes, I said ridiculous…twice!) report that she broadcasted. If you do that, if you admit that it was a stupid and pointless segment that you shouldn’t have allowed to air, if you force Cecilia to do the right thing and apologize, I think you could probably recover a bit from this misstep. But if you just march ahead, and pretend this never happened, you’re going to offend Jenna’s fanbase….and I must say, it takes a pretty sleazy act to offend us.
Best,
V

Yesterday morning, after lamenting the trials he’d experienced prior to arriving at work, my boss commented, “You know, I try to keep perspective. I try to keep in mind that somewhere, there’s someone wishing they were having my bad morning.”
I appreciated the sentiment of his idea – that there were people all over the world facing far worse than he was, wishing that their biggest problem was bad traffic or car trouble or sleeping through an alarm. I had no idea just how much his words would ring true to me by the end of the day. But as our Monday unfolded, I was faced first with the not entirely unexpected but still saddening passing of a coworker’s mother, followed of course by the bombings of the Boston Marathon. The news trickled into us, and we first learned that there were explosions at the finish line of the race, then that people were gravely injured, and then that there had been fatalities. As the afternoon gave way to evening, there was nothing whatsoever about my day that could seem bad in comparison to what was going on in Boston, or in the home of my coworker as he coped with loss.
I continually find myself horrified at the violence that’s becoming more and more commonplace in this country. Anywhere we go – to the airport, to school, to the movies, to run marathons – we run the risk of someone harming us. I don’t understand it. I look at all the violence and I feel like I’m in a world I can’t possibly comprehend. But then, I see the people who are working to help the injured, to aid the victims, and that sentiment, that feeling of community and helping those in need…that I understand.
There are some bad people in this world. There are people who are mentally ill who don’t or can’t get the help they need, so they end up doing terrible things. There are people who do awful deeds in the name of a god that they believe they are serving loyally. And there are evil people, people who do cruel and sick things because it brings them pleasure to do so. What comforts me is that there are also a lot of good people in this world too. There are people who run towards gunshots and explosions to save others, at their own expense. There are people who give of themselves, their time, their money, to make a difference for the better. The good people bring me hope that there’s more to expect from our future than just senseless hate and violence.
There’s a quote I love from the movie Where the Heart Is, and even though the situation in the movie surrounding the quote is totally different than the situation we face in the aftermath of the Boston bombings, I still found myself mulling it over yesterday and thought it worthy of sharing.
“You tell them, we’ve all got meanness in us. But we’ve got good in us too. And the only thing worth living for is the good. And that’s why we’ve got to make sure we pass it on.”

 

Last Thursday, I decided to take a day off from work so that Paul and I could go to Mt. Vernon and enjoy the Skagit Valley Tulip Festival. I’ve been a big fan of the festival since Paul took me to my first one back in 2008, and I was excited to see the beautiful gardens again.
A little history: the Tulip Festival began in 1984, and now runs every April 1st-30th. Thousands of people come to see the tulips, journeying from different states and even from different countries (in 2012, there were visitors from 53 foreign countries!).
We picked the Roozengaarde garden. There is an admission fee of $5/person, but I felt it was well worth it as they had a great variety of tulips in addition to fields of daffodils. Paul caught me in a photo as we checked out the daffodils.
 

 
 
I took some amateur photos with the camera Paul got me for Valentine’s Day, but the pictures Paul himself shot were the most breathtaking ones. His gallery is available here.
After we had toured Roozengaarde, we drove to La Conner for lunch. We were both pretty hungry, and were drawn in by the smells of the La Conner Pub and Eatery. Paul had a burger while I enjoyed a French Dip.
After lunch, we walked out to the waterfront and watched as seals frolicked in the waters of the Swinomish Channel. When the seals went on their way, we did as well, stopping in at the Courtyard Gallery on our way back to the car after some of the glass art displayed in the windows caught our eye. When we were in Hawaii, we had gone into a Wayland gallery which also displayed glass art, and Paul had seen some glass waves that he absolutely loved. We were excited when we saw that the Courtyard Gallery also had glass waves, undoubtedly made by the same artist we’d seen the work of in Hawaii (I did some checking and the artist is David Wright). While in the gallery, we also fell in love with a Red Salmon Chandelier made by artist Scott Chambers. I would definitely recommend a trip to the gallery to anyone. They have beautiful pieces!
We moved on from La Conner, making one more stop at Deception Pass before we headed home. I love Deception Pass! On a sunny day, the views of the turquoise water and surrounding scenery are fabulous!
Our day out was fabulous. It was a great way to spend time together and enjoy spring!
 

This week marked two very special anniversaries for me. The first was my three-year anniversary as a Washingtonian. Yep, it’s been three whole years since I packed up and left California for the beautiful Pacific Northwest, and three years in I am still loving it! The second was my two-year anniversary with Customer Relations. This is the only job I’ve ever had that continues to challenge me and lets me learn new things all the time.
In addition to my two anniversaries, this week was also my very first time instructing a Zumba class. I am psyched! My awesome friend Kate and I are teaching Zumba on Tuesday evenings at the gym in our office building. Although the turnout at our first class was small, we hope that we will generate more interest as time goes on and that attendance will grow.
                     Me, on the day I got my Zumba Instructor License
Now that it’s April and we are having some milder weather, I am excited to start enjoying some outdoor activities! Paul and I will be going next week to enjoy the tulip festival in Mount Vernon, and on April 27th I will be participating in the March of Dimes. Click here if you would like to donate to my team, Ounces of Love!
Happy spring to all! What fun things do you have planned for April?