School’s out 4ever


Wearing sunglasses non-stop to hide my itchy, sun-sensitive eyes!


It’s spring. The birds are singing, the flowers are blooming, and my allergies are back with a vengeance.

I started writing this at my desk on my last day in office for my internship, mostly to prevent me from annoying my office-mate who actually had real work to do. After a solid 19 years of schooling, the idea that I’ve finished a year of school with no further school in the picture is rather shocking. It’s disrupted my whole life sequence. I can’t remember what it was like to not be in school, or at least be in anticipation of it.

For the first time in my life, I’m wrapping up a chapter without a clear projection of what will follow it. I’m basically living out the emotional state sixth-grade student experiences when they realize they actually need to write an ending for their cringe-y short story assignment, and all they can come up with is “and then they woke up and it was all a dream” so they scribble it down as if it’s the most original idea that every crossed their still-developing mind.

I’ve been casually browsing the internet for advice on what to do during this “purpose void” I’ve mentally built up. As far as I can tell, these are my only options:

Get a job

Honestly, this would be ideal, but it is harder said than done. In this economy? In this job market? Sounds fake. Also, having a job just doesn’t hit the same when you have to wait months for your health benefits to kick in (if they’re even offered).

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Cover letter is off to a strong start.

Join a pyramid scheme

This isn’t hard with the sheer number of instagram “Hey girl!” bubbles that land in my DMs. Within moments I could be part of a long train of girls trying to peddle hair and skin products not approved by the FDA, attempting to convince people that all of the bad reviews and customer complaints are circumstantial and blown out of proportion. All I have to do is spend countless hours on Instagram searching for girls I think are even more gullible and desperate than me.


I already have an in.

Go to Bali and “find myself”

This one seems promising. If I dig deep into my bank account, I can probably find enough funds to book a round trip to Southeast Asia. After partying hard and trashing beaches all night at low-cost raves in Thailand with no reverence for the locals, I’ll zip over to Bali to cleanse my soul with yoga and beautiful spas. I might even think I’ve become more enlightened by sitting in picturesque pools and immersing myself amongst the (gentrified version of) a foreign culture.

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Instagram search: Bali

I’ll definitely take at least 200 instragammable photos to post from now until the end of time, ready to post one when a natural disaster strikes Indonesia as a result of climate change crisis (e.g. the capital might have to be moved from Jakarta, displacing millions and potentially creating climate crisis refugees) with a caption such as “my heart bleeds to see this beautiful place I visited experiencing such pain </3”. In the event that life-ending disaster doesn’t strike, I’ll make sure to post photos about the importance of travel, with other captions such as “The world is a book, and those who do not travel read but a page“, “Take only memories, leave only footprints”, and “I think I was born to live in a hut on a beach <3”.


Fake my own death

I’ve read Gone Girl too many times and now kind of just want to try to see if I could get away with it.


This is the most iconic monologue in modern film and no one can convince me otherwise.


Real talk, I kind of feel this sense of emptiness about being done school for the foreseeable future, and I’m genuinely going to miss having access to JSTOR. The change is terrifying, but it’s also incredibly liberating. I have nothing planned and no schedules to meet.

And that’s okay.

Coming up next: I’m going on hiatus for the summer!

Backup plan


Looking for potential job opportunities!


As yet another week has passed where I have not secured full-time employment, my parents urge me to develop a “backup plan” for when my dreams and aspirations of working in PR/MarComm fall through.

My parents, who I disappointed by going into English and Creative writing rather than a STEM-related university program , have been expressing their extreme fear that I will be a poor, jobless loser until I die for the majority of the past four years. As more time passes, the fear only gets stronger. They’re still trying to convince me to apply for medical or law school.

I’m beginning that think that they may be making some points, as I only have $18 to my name at the moment. Maybe I should start to think of alternative career paths. After some intense job market research and deep soul searching, I have developed the following options:


Blackjack Scammer


Image courtesy of

Inspired by 21, the 2008 film that glorified being good at math, I could develop the ability to count cards, enabling me to “scam the system” in games of blackjack. Perhaps I’d even assemble a team to streamline the process.

After a year or two of winning large sums of money in casinos in Las Vegas and Monaco, I’ll disappear into a nice suburban lifestyle and pay for everything with suspicious amounts of cash.

Pros: short career length with significant financial compensation
Cons: doing math
Risks: I could be horrible at this and end up only losing money


Go on the Bachelor

bloom-blooming-blossom-1820567.jpg really had my back on this post


The skeptics may wonder: How can I turn this into a career? I’ll explain.

Step One: Apply to be a contestant on the Bachelor. I’m young, cute, and looking for love.

Step Two: Play it well. I’ll be the perfect balance of nice while maintaining a personality, and try to get some of the fans to my side.

Step Three: As the show’s token ethnic minority, I have to make it decent way into the show. I hope that my charm and fan support gets me to the part where he meets my family. My mom, who has no verbal filter and has the tendency to say typically rude things without considering the impact, will probably unintentionally read Brad-Chad-Chris-Hunter-Whatever-His-Name-Is for filth.

Step Four: When the show airs, that segment goes viral, potentially becomes an internet meme. I’m immortalized as the contestant whose mom ROASTED the bachelor.

Step Five: I don’t win The Bachelor. This is expected: the winner is the skinniest, blondest contestant (as per usual).

Step Six: I use my internet popularity to feed my launch into being a social media influencer, and further use this platform to progress my career as a writer.

Step Seven: Years down the road, I do Dancing with the Stars or something equally desperate to cling to my withering remnants of pop culture relevancy.

Step Eight: Retire early with whatever funds I’ve saved up and live out a mysterious, reclusive life like Emily Dickinson.

Pros: money, fame, minimal effort output
Cons: probably will never be able to hold a corporate job after
Risks: there’s a 99% chance I’m too ugly to get on The Bachelor


Start an underground raccoon fighting ring


Image from rad raccoon

Raccoons are considered pests by most, and I doubt many would complain about their disappearance. Additionally, chicken and dog fighting is so normie and cliché. Unfortunately, because of the illegality and inconspicuous nature of the animal fighting industry, there isn’t a lot of available guidance.

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I hope the government agent spying on my google searches does not flag me 🙂

In order to achieve this, I would have to poach a few young raccoons and raise them as fighters. I’d have to figure out how to gather attention from interested audiences and other potential participants, as well as a fighting location and framework. Of course, this would take years of investment and planning to grow into a stable form of income, but what start-up doesn’t?

Pros: potential to be lucrative as heck
Cons: this is definitely an animals rights violation and I would hate myself for it
Risks: probably going to prison forever, also: rabies


The truth is I’m terrified that I might have no job prospects, and that I’ll have to actually think of a secondary career plan. I have this overwhelming fear that I’ve wasted my time, that I’ve wasted my parents’ money on education, and that I’ll never be as successful as my peers who have already found full-time employment in their field of choice, or are living their dreams in professional school. I’m frankly afraid I’m not enough; the application process has a knack of feeding that fear. I’m still fighting to overcome it, and maybe you are too.

And that’s okay.

Comment your “backup plan”!

Coming up next: school’s out 4ever

professional twitter is no fun: there, i said it

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I tweeted this just seconds before my program director followed me on Twitter.

One of the most consistent pieces of advice I have received throughout the past few years is that I should professionalize all of my social media profiles.

This is upsetting for me, mostly because I’ve been sh*t-posting since before sh*t-posting was even a real thing. My parents have wearily recounted (many times, on different occasions) all the absurd things I’ve said over the course of my life. It started when I started mixing words to be petty at the ripe age of one and to this day I will say dumb jokes to my mom, at which point she resignedly look away and pretend she never heard it.

I’ve been an avid Twitter user since I was 16. Good content creation on this platform is akin to art. The skill to put together a good jokes and quickly create context within a restraining word/character economy deserves way more credit, and most of my favourite internet personalities exist on Twitter.

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did I ever mention that I basically majored in poetry?

Social media is becoming an increasingly integrated part of human interaction and social connection. Even with busy lives and distance between us, I’m still able to my friends who are in different cities across the world; yes, we still talk on the phone, text, Facetime, etc., but those activities take time and it’s hard to keep that up on a regular basis with everyone.

However, in a single tweet, I can learn of the tragic dating incident my friend was entangled in; a single Instagram photo can let me know that my BFF on exchange in Copenhagen went for a weekend hiking trip in Norway.

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do i have to delete this from my profile be honest

As much as the baby boomer haterz think we rely on our phones too much, social media has really become a simple way to stay connected with a large network of people.

So back to professionalizing. I can see it in some places: obviously, you should have to keep it clean-cut on LinkedIn. That just makes sense. But TWITTER?

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I’m not saying that we should feel free to post anything on social media (i.e. free speech does not mean spreading hate speech; basic human rights should still apply), but making people give up their ability to express themselves online in any way that isn’t strictly professional seems pretty unhealthy.

Yeah, I could just talk about my professional activities and accomplishments on Twitter, but a) I think 90% of my followers would find me irritating and b) that’s what LinkedIn is for.

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This man pulled out one airpod to say this to me. Didn’t even ask if I was okay. Also, I did need iron.

Twitter is such an interesting forum for memes, internet culture, and jokes. It’s a place for sharing wittily crafted personal anecdotes. It allows for social and political commentary in a factual or comical way. For thought sharing. It’s pretty isolating to give up the connections I’ve forged with people over our senses of humour, our tragic dating lives, and our ability to share sub-prime stories of ourselves. Frankly, seeing other people be imperfect on Twitter kind of makes me feel less alone.

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This blog post came from this very sad place where I was scrolling through my old tweets and deleting some out of fear of being unemployed forever. I don’t know how to reconcile the fact that being a real adult means having to appear perfect on the internet. I’m exhausted and frightened by the very idea.

And that’s okay.

Comment a topic you want covered!

Coming up next: backup plan

My friends are getting married and I’m still seeing guys who have Saturdays Are For The Boys flags hanging above their couches 🙃


I read poems about my (barely existent) love life at an event in undergrad and got a flower for it.

A couple days ago, I was lying in bed, eating pizza and scrolling through Instagram when something terrible occurred: I saw wedding photos of people I knew in undergrad.

There’s a weird sense of pressure. A lot of the people around me will talk about their ten year goals, with things like getting married and having their first kid included. This wouldn’t freak me out as much if I wasn’t still going on first dates with Brad’s and Chad’s who crush cases of PBR and use the term “full send” unironically.

I really messed up by avoiding relationships like they were the plague during my upper years of university. No one told me how hard it is to meet new dating prospects in a post-grad arena.

My friends keep trying to set me up with people using weak common interests that have no correlation to compatibility, i.e.:

  • “You both enjoy independent films!”
  • “He wrote a poem once for class and you write poems so it’s basically a match made in heaven!”
  • “You both can read!”

My friend made me download Hinge, a dating app, but I also struggle to want to meet people after only a text conversation. Although, I am thankful to the one guy whose opening message was “I love you”. Hope all is good, Nick.

I’m not going to end this with a motivational message about being comfortable with being single and recognizing that it’s your time to grow. There’s enough content about that in the world. Wanting to find love and worrying about potentially not finding it is common amongst most people.

And that’s okay.

Comment your worst date ever! Because of who I am as a person, I documented mine with a tweet:Screen Shot 2018-11-03 at 11.36.49 PM

Coming up next: Bar life is not the same


Existing in Limbo: The Place Between Student Life and Adulthood


“Homie, I’m graduated.” – Kanye West

There’s a 10th circle in hell, and it’s called post-graduate life.

Not for everyone. Some of my peers seamlessly slipped into their master’s programs, full-time contracts and actual-real-adult existences. Congratulations if that’s you; I just can’t relate.

I’m in this weird place between student life and adulthood. I don’t consider Mio drops mixed with water and vodka to be a cocktail anymore, but I’m still not ~sophisticated~ enough to own wine that costs more than nine dollars and has a better name than “Blueberry Blue”. Assorted ramen noodles aren’t a steady meal plan, but I’m not ready to start grocery shopping dominantly for whole foods.

Worst of all, I can see people close to me on both sides of the spectrum, and I crave to have that kind of definition, that concreteness, that certainty in my life.

Essentially, I’m having an identity crisis.

Instead of handling it rationally, I let my Jekyll-and-Hyde-style dual identities hijack my body and act out in ridiculous ways. For example, these are behaviours I exhibited within 24 hours last week (in no particular order):

  • Bought a blazer for 50 per cent off during an end-of-season sale
  • Drank a whole bottle of wine at a pre-drink
  • Scheduled a coffee chat
  • Wore my reading glasses all day for *aesthetic*
  • Used a stress ball to healthily handle my issues
  • Bootycalled a guy who I said I would never hook up with again at 1:30 a.m.
  • Woke up with cheeto dust spilled all over my sheets

I live in this space where I still exist as a sloppy undergraduate student who isn’t ready to move on, but I’m also this budding professional who’s primed for the next stage of her life. Maybe you’re there too.

And that’s okay.

This blog is for laughs, advice and the kind of honesty you won’t find on the gram; follow for a hot mess of a ride.

Coming Up Next: Dream Job: The Real Version