Mmk…this site needs some major revamping.  I already changed the layout (is it too bright?)…now I need to update all of my pages and figure out what the hell happen to my links page since most of them disappeared.

On a brighter note, I was sorting out the dresses in my closet and found an old leopard-printed dress that I bought yearssss ago but never had the chance to wear it.  Outdated or not, I still dig the dress.

Also bought cat eye frames (right). It was really expensive, but optical frames are pretty much the only thing I’m willing to spend a lot money on (besides shoes, bags…nevermind).

Ok, screw that idea. Seriously, screw it. Fuck it. (Ah, that felt better).

I really don’t like posting on my new site, honestly.  I feel limited in my words and I feel fake doing it.  What’s worse is that I have plenty of lurkers on that site whom I know in real life–and I know this because the majority of them are referred from my Facebook.

It feels so awkward.  Visitors who actually don’t know you in person have way more chances of leaving comments on your site, as oppose to your friends and family who rather just pretend they didn’t notice.

Anyway, I appreciate to those who came back and decided to read my entries from my other site, but I’m going to stay here.

I needed a blog where it’s more family/work friendly. And for consistency–I don’t want to have a blog where I have one entry that talks about some new awesome video game, and then dish on my sister’s friends after that.

Not sure what I’m going to do with this site, I’d kind of like to keep it for memory. Maybe post every time I feel like blowing off some steam.

Oy, I really wish I could get back to updating this site on a regular basis again but life has been pretty shitty for me.  It’s the kind of shit where you’d actually go to your blog at least once a week to try to conjure something up but all you can write about is how shitty your day went,  and you don’t want to pile your site with shit lest it put readers into a shitful mood.

Nah, I’m not about that, but I do miss writing here a lot.  I just wish I wasn’t such a fucking baby.

But enough of that, so one of the things that’s been stressful for me is not being able to find/get a job.  I’m running low on money to pay for the bills and boy does it suck.

Luckily, my sister’s mother-in-law informed me about a job opening at a medical home for old folks where she works at.  When I found out they needed a Vietnamese receptionist, I declined the offer because my Vietnamese is generally pretty bad. Heck, the main reason why I quit my last job was because the communication barrier between the Vietnamese-speaking patients and I.  It’s a huge thing that I cannot tolerate.

The mom-in-law said it didn’t matter as long as I knew the basics of the language.  All I’m going to do really is to look cute, greet the customers and answer “basic” questions.  Nothing to it. Teehee.

So after a couple of minutes of her pushing me to go for the job, I’m thinking, okay it shouldn’t hurt to go in for an interview, I mean after all, I can understand and speak simple Vietnamese, I know how to say “hi” to people, and hands fucking down I can look cute.

I drive up there and four-five minutes later upon arrival, I’m in the boss’s office to get interviewed.  I find out that his name is Ryan.  Ryan, Ryan, Ryan…I kept repeating to myself,  since I’m terribly…terribly bad with remembering people’s name.

(Kind of off-topic: I use  mnemonic device for remembering people’s names now and it’s been fantastic! Like, for Ryan, he has Seacrest hair. Yup. Message received)

Five minutes later, in comes his assistant, Clark.

(Mnemonic device for Clark: Picturing him to throw his hispter-lickin’ black thick-rimmed glasses out the window and  rip open his dress shirt in a dramatic slow-mo baywatchy manner, revealing the insignia of Superman. Gawd, this mnemonic device thing is fucking amazing!)

So we’re all talking and so far, it’s going fantastic.  There was never any kind of awkward silence, I’m making them laugh, we all share some common things, I mean this ball is pretty much rolling.

Well…that is, until, Clark brings up, “We know that you’re applying for a receptionist job, but we’re hoping that you’d also be our official translator for doctors and patients…you are comfortable with that, right?”

“Yep,” I nodded. I know! Really dumb answer, but I was completely thrown off. I thought this was basic gawddamnit.

Ryan cuts in, “That’s great. Hey…why don’t we bring in one of our Vietnamese worker to test her out.”

“Sure!” I nodded some more. Dumb, dumb, dumb…

A Vietnamese employee was brought into the office to put me on the spot by having a casual conversation with me in Vietnamese as the two men watched.  He spoke really fast, and really Vietnamese that I wasn’t able to catch on most of the thing he blurted out.  He asked me when I moved to the states and I was trying to tell him that I wasn’t born in Vietnam, I was born here.

He turns to the two men and informs them, “She say she was born in Vietnam and move here when she was five.” Five minutes prior to that, I clearly stated to them that I was born in Massachusetts and moved to California later. Gah!

After my failed conversation with him, the man lied for some odd reason and told them that I was an excellent Vietnamese speaker. Ughh (I later found out that that man was a good friend of the mom-in-law. Ha).

After all of that, Ryan tells me that I got the job. Yeah…yay. I’m screwed.  I’m not sure how I’m going to handle with the whole translating for doctors and patients deal…

Doctor, “Tiff, can you please tell this patient that he has respiratory arthritis in your native language?”

Tiff, speaking in Vietnamese, “You’re screwed, dude.”

The next day, on the way to my boyfriend’s place, I got rear-ended.  I was stuck in traffic, everyone was going 5-7 mph, except for the totally obliv driver behind me.

It wasn’t a severe car-accident (thank gawd) but let me tell you, the terrifying part about this was knowing it was going to happen, before it happened. Three seconds to be exact. And not being able to do anything about it.

This is basically my thought process when I looked at my rear-view mirror:

There is a big black SUV charging at me. *Whiplash* Fuck.

If anybody cares, I am back to blogging! Well–Kinda! Depends if I actually have stuff to write about, but yeah, I finally have time and can focus on what I love doing…writing nonsensical spouts of starbursts on Tiffsbloggy (man I love saying that).

Oh, and when I mean “I finally have time” I mean, I’m not playing World of Warcraft as much anymore since I finally hit level 80 for the first time.

For those who know WoW and are curious to know what I play, I play a fresh lvl 80 blood elf hunter on Blackrock server.  She’s BM for pvp, and soon to be MM for pve.

If I were to turn into a video game character,  she would be it.  I intentionally created her that way so she would somewhat resemble me.  I mean technically, I’m not just playing WoW…I’m literally in the game but in pixel format. Right? Amirite?

Thanks to my boyfriend, who COERCED me in to trying out the 10-day trial of the game, I’ve been really addicted to it for the past three months.  Though, thankfully, not as much anymore now that I am level 80.  I can finally breathe, focus more on school and this website, and shower more.

And since I’m a huge nerd for dressing up, last thing I want to mention is my Halloween costume.  I was dressed as a Victorian vampire, with crazy cat-eye contact lenses.  Here are some photos of the event, plus an adorable photo of my nephew trick-0-treating for the first time as an added bonus (he’s not even two yet!):

About a week ago, my friend, Jules, used me as a model for her mom’s jewelry store.  I never had such proper treatment before.  And I never had that much makeup being put on to one single face…my face.

Jules, a MAC makeup artist, did a great job regardless.  It was crazy! I never knew that my own dork face was capable of such impeccable hotness, all thanks to Jules and her fine makeup artistry.  Here are some photos of the shoot, some of them are “actual” shoots and others were from our regular cameras mostly for fun:

Boy do I love makeup.  Isn’t it great how putting a little can accentuate features?  And putting lots of it on can really altar a woman’s face in drastic measures, capable of deceiving men? And speaking of men, I wonder if they–who are attracted to women that always wear caked-on powder, caked-on lipgloss, caked-on eyeshadow, and whatever other form of cosmetic they’d put on to their heart’s content–are aware of what might be underneath the cake-laden face.

After a couple of hours of shooting, I drove home with the makeup on.  On my way there, some guy driving next to me stared and whistled at me, and made flattering remarks.  Usually, this doesn’t happen.   And this whole time, I couldn’t help but to think, “If he only knew…”  If he only knew that the glossy lips, the rosey cheeks, the long lashes weren’t hereditary.  If he only knew that I really don’t wear makeup unless I go out for a special occasion or that I’m with my boyfriend (sorry Matt!).

If he only knew that he was actually whistling to this:

Lol