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The Weekend Crew: Tanaya and Tiffany

I can count the number of male friends I have with one hand. My really skinny hands at that.

I naturally seem to get along better with females. There was a certain point passed my sexist misogynistic bro-phase of early adolescence where it occurred to me that much of what guys talk about doesn’t really sit too well with me. That’s not to say there isn’t the usual guy talk at the office, but if anyone mentions to me about video games, guns, and whatever new extreme action packed thing there is right now, frankly, I don’t care. That ceased to amuse me years ago.

I usually meet up with 2 friends (both female, no less), who I affectionately call “the weekend crew.” Over simplifying the complex nature of personalities of people, you can consider them, Tanaya — the tall black girl who has a thing for Asian guys (emphasis), and Tiffany — a short Asian girl with a small voice and usual weekend DD. Fun fact: Tiff is my neighbor around the corner. Small world, right?


How did we meet? Tanaya crashed my end of the year party for my friend Jack in 2015 at UCSB. Note that she was not invited and proceeded to side-step me as I was out greeting guests at the door. First impressions: Who the f-ck is she? And she seems rude. The rudeness hasn’t changed much. Tanaya and Tiff were neighbors living in Santa Ynez. Naturally, Santa Barbara would unite us together even after we all have graduated.

The Weekend Itinerary

  • go downtown or somewhere in Alhambra or Pasadena
  • visit a bar
  • drink at said bar (emphasis on alcohol)
  • repeat at another bar
  • Tanaya keels over
  • Tiff is the DD
  • repeat next week

Believe me. It’s actually pretty fun.

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Stories from UCSB: A Girl Named Grace

Sometimes you always run into that one girl over and over again for 2 years. But she’s secretly a weirdo.

Isla Vista is a fairly small college town about 2 miles across. If you had a consistent schedule, you may be lucky enough to bump into a friend every week. It was my first year, I was living in Santa Ynez, there was always one quiet and shy girl I saw practically everyday in multiple random classes. Long black hair, glasses, Asian, and slightly above average in height is how’d I best describe her. At first we would exchange awkward glances, which unfortunately morphed into a “what the fuck, you again?” head turn.

You’d think after happening for so long, someone (meaning me) would introduce themselves. But nope. The furthest I spoke to her was one afternoon once my 3rd psychology class for the day was over. I almost made back to my apartment when I turned the corner and BAM. There she was again. Truthfully, this time, I was somewhat startled. I quickly thought to myself and said, “fuck it.”

“Hey, aren’t you in the class I just had? Wasn’t that midterm totally unfair?” I get I have a deep voice, but I completely caught her off guard and practically made her stumble trying to stop. She murmured a response confirming my suspicions and we both quickly evaded.

Fast forward to my last year at UCSB and I’m in Davidson library frantically cramming for a midterm. I get a notification,”You matched on Tinder!” I check to see who and its the same fucking girl. Think of this moment as the ocean tide, the common cold, or those battered spouses in relationships. They always come back.

At this point, I thought this was ridiculous so I did what any guy with a Tinder match would do, but to very suavely chat her up. If you’re think we hit it off got along great, and found a lot in common, you’re way off. She was a totally freakin’ weirdo. She threw a bunch of off comedy one liners and divulged her amazing ability to recite lines from King of the Hill. If there was ever another reason I look the other way when it comes to Asian women, here’s another penny in the jar.

Sometimes chance encounters are just that — chances. Random at that.

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A taste of Mad Men

In the words of Professor Farnsworth, “GOOD NEWS EVERYONE!”

Indeed it was. Today I was interviewed at a very big name, we are a big deal, Mad Men-level ad agency right in the heart of Pasadena. The amazing thing is I inquired about open positions about a month ago and I miraculously got a call back for an interview by the founder. I knew this interview was going to be unusual considering I didn’t actually apply for a position. How did it go you may be asking? Just okay. I honestly don’t think I landed a job there and that’s just the reality of it. It wasn’t the best interview I’ve given, but considering the short amount of years I’ve been working and the chance I was given to meet with people who manage clients in the quarter-of-a-million dollar level, I’m quite happy and joyful this was even a reality.

Having my first taste of Men Mad in the 21st century only makes the drive to reach this position more real, closer, and addictive even. Obstacles will exist, but I will stop at nothing to get to where my interviewers are.

Remember the time I worked at Hulu? Hint: I did. Crazy right? I was interviewed at an IT company located in Long Beach. I unfortunately accepted my old marketing job before I could schedule my 2nd interview with them. Guess who called to see if I was available… YEAH. No f-cking way this was all in the same day. Now that begs the question: continue with marketing and make okay money, or do IT, drive further, longer, and make great money?

Here’s a picture of Pasadena from tonight. Dirt cheap milk tea and egg rolls lead to a trip to Old Town with the homie (+G as my sis would say).


Tomorrow I start my new job and heck, I don’t even have to drive to get there in time. Braving the buses to save money… I think I’m definitely an adult now. Later world and a can of Coke.

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Adventures in not smoking

One subject I’m not proud of is my relationship with cigarettes or stogs as my friends and I usually call them when we’re out. While I did quit for the better part of ten entire months from last year, getting laid off has made those sticks of tobacco that much more a necessity as I navigate the life of the unemployed. Fun fact and not surprisingly: it sucks. Every now and again, I like to joke around how I’m actually “cutting back”.

If I was SpongeBob, Patrick is my friend Julian

For smokers this means one of two things. One, “I’m bullshitting you”. Two, “I’m smoking less”. I guess you can consider me somewhere in-between those two statements with a splash of humor thrown in. See, I use to smoke two packs a day and only the blacks as my friends and I call them. That’s smokers talk for being badass and smoking heavy flavored tobacco around the clock. Now, I only smoke one pack every two days. By any stretch of the imagination, that is still ridiculous and a future train wreck waiting to happen upon my poor lungs and whatever nicotine throws down my insides.

How do I feel now you might ask? Absolutely tired and sleepy. If I had energy, it surely wasn’t around for too long. My body feels a lot like that fatigue you get from a hard night of partying and dancing, minus the hangover and lingering smell of vodka in the room of course. How did Don Draper do this is beyond me. I’m not a fan of old fashions and whiskey, but give me a fancy suit, skinny tie, and slicked back hair any day. As a broom-riding witch says, “Oh my stars”.

Tomorrow is day two. I’m terrified of that statement.

Later world and a can of Coke.

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That time I was let go from my job

In what can be one of the most jarring experiences I can recall this past year, I was without warning let go from my job as a web project manager. While this would normally bother me to no end, let me tell you how the day-to-day operations was like at REDACTED. For those skillful Internet searchers, the company I worked for is located in Los Angeles. We only recently moved there the beginning of September from a small city just by the border of South Pasadena. We cleverly advertise a “full internet marketing” agency when we in fact outsource to India for a majority of the work. Yelp reviews are a resounding 5 stars across the board, but strangely only date back to 2014 and without a negative review to be found. The lowercase e in our name lets our clients know we’re all about the Internet and not afraid to boast our rankings as “one of the top SEOs”.

I promise there’s only a hint of sarcasm in that description.

Refunds (or lack of thereof)

If you were one of the unlucky few who were magically called upon by one of our sales people and lured into the unforgiving trap we set forth on your credit card, getting you the website you wanted was far from our priority. Deadlines often ran far into the third month when we quoted customers a turnaround time of just 1-2. What if you wanted a refund, you might ask? We don’t give out refunds. Ever. Keeping you on billing was skillfully executed by our most seasoned managers who knew how to keep clients relatively happy with little to no work to show for it. If there was a billing mistake and you were commonly overcharged you would recieve additional months of service. That only begs the question: If the service is free, does that make it good? Nope.

Lackluster Communication

Take a large company with many departments who don’t regularly coordinate communication with each other and what do you end up with? A huge cluster fuck of “I didn’t know.” and “Oh did they?”. I heard that more times than was considered normal. If a client requested a change in service, I never trusted my email to magically make it to the right hands or monitors or even have it properly forwarded to the right people as protocol would dictate. Might I remind you that our “new process”—as one jolly gentle project manager put it—was an incredible fifty pages in length. As thorough and well written in formalities as the language on bounded paper was, this “new process” was more of a front for the amount of half-assed shenanigans that was regularly going on.

The People

Lastly, come my thoughts on the people working there. Not everyone who worked there was a quack. In fact, there were a select few who rightfully earned their places high up in the company. Guys in billing, and the big boss lady are the best examples that I know of who had every right to each letter of their title. However, look down a few rows and you couldn’t help but notice the high school students in social media who laughed and chuckled every time you caught them walking through the hallway. Better yet, my own manager (who I shall not name) was every bit a kid in disguise with a troubling past and more run-ins with the law than one could reasonably laugh at.

To end this on a positive note, see ya M___, M____, and V____. Those three people weren’t just my co-workers who sat beside me. I can honestly say without a doubt they were also my friends—and that is something I will truly miss about not working there. Laughs were shared, crazy and wild stories were exchanged, and just a little bit of ourselves rubbed off on one another to make a small difference.

So long, farewell, and a can of Coke.