My mom (I would use  ”mommy” but that would just sound creepy right?), being the cool mom that she is, bought me a carton of ice cream. Expecting it to be rocky road flavor or my favorite, Ben & Jerry’s Chocalate Fudge Brownie, it ended up being something super weird and unfamiliar. The main colors that were used for this carton was white and purple. White and purple. To me, that doesn’t make want to believe there’s real ice cream in there. Not only that, the carton says it’s “ice cream made with coconut and sweet purple yam.”

I don’t mind actual coconut itself and heck, I didn’t even know sweet purple yams existed but when it comes to ice cream…where the FUDGE are my chocolates?! My oroes!? My cookie cream delicoiunsess!?

But you know what? My mom bought this for me and she didn’t have to. She knows I’m old enough to drive to the store and buy these things for myself but she’s a mom and she loves me. So I sure as hell ain’t going to start acting like those ugly ass kids who get pissed off for getting an iphone for Christmas instead of an ipad. I thanked my mom and pretended to be excited about it.

It took me a two nights to muster up the courage to try this, this purple thing they call “ice cream”. I went to the fridge and took out the carton. Opened it for the first time and realized it was frighteningly purple. Much more purple than the picture on the carton. This is scary. Why couldn’t it just be brown or vanilla looking? Or at least had more earth-tone colors to it?

1st bite: “I hate purple.”

2nd bite: “It’s funny because I look like I’m eating playdough.”

3rd bite: “Yeah, I don’t know about this.”

4th bite: “I mean, it’s OKAY, but it’s purple. My skin might turn that way if I eat it more.”

5th bite: “It’s alright…it’s gross, but it’s alright.”

6th bite: “This is freagin’ delicious.”

In other words, I LOVE PURPLE STUFF. It’s weird because I’m pretty sure after my brain registered that I was about to eat purple ice cream, my brain was all warning me, “Uh, no dude, it’s purple. When’s the last time you ain’t something that purple?” The color of this ice cream initially impaired my judgement on the taste of it. It took several bites for my brain to realize that it was a racist jerk for judging ice cream by its color.

I’m not that jerk anymore.

Yes, I know, I’ve mentioned that I am stressed out for the last 3-4 entries, and today’s situation at work did not help at all. I work at a small optometry place and here’s the conversation that went down between me and a grown man, which went pretty sour rather quickly:

Me: I just need you to write your name and then sign here please.

Man: I don’t need to, I’ve been here before.

Me: Yes, but this is a new exam, I just need you to sign in.

Man: What is a new exam–do I have to write my address down?

Me: Oh, that? You don’t have to worry bout it.

Man: What is a new exam?

Me: (explains)

Man: Look, when I ask you a question, you better answer it (he points his finger at me).

Me: I–

Man: Don’t fucking tell me “not to worry about  it” when I ask you a fucking question. (He leans closer to my face) When I ask you a question, I expect a fucking answer…

Woo, ok. If you guys can’t tell, I meant to tell him that he doesn’t have to worry about…writing his address down! Afterwards, I said something about how it was just miscommunication, my voice was trembling so terribly I didn’t know what exactly came out of my mouth, I was just trying to hold back my tears. I left my desk and let the doctor take care of him.

I cried a bit in the break room. I’m just not use to a man go off on me for something so small, and I absolutely cannot understand why some people’s way of dealing with issues are so pathetic and primitive. Why do some people make assumptions right off the bat and then decide to act like the world’s biggest asshole to you? How about you keep your cool, ask questions first, and once you get a clear confirmation of the cause-and-effect (I sound like an elementary school teacher!), use that as your reason whether to stir up shit or not. COMMUNI-F*CKING-CATION, people! Use it–it’s really great!

I was interviewed for a graphic design internship position (with pay!) for a production company about a week ago. I’ve worked at my current job for six long years, and–though I am not bragging– all of the jobs I had in the past were practically offered to me, therefore I royally suck at interviews ’cause I rarely get interviewed.

I guess I should finally confess to you guys that I’m far from being a decent talker. I believe that going on the internet all the time and rarely socializing with real life people since I was 12 had a little something to do with my lack of ability to carry a smooth conversation that didn’t have any stalling and stuttering. It’s awful. Let’s say if I decided to do a vlog right now, without any scripts or rehearsals, you’d have a YouTube video with one HELL of an awkward girl in it.

“Um…hey…..um guys. Yeah, so, uh…yeah, um…this is my vlog. Hmmmmmmmm….” (fades into the dark)

Now back to the interview. My answers were made up of ums, yeah, uh, and lots of stalling. Most of the questions thrown at me were pretty…WTF HOW AM I SUPPOSE TO ANSWER THAT!? and I was extremely nervous since I didn’t have a lot of experience with job interviews. I was so nervous that the interviewer had to say, “You’re so nervous, just calm down! We’re chill people.” I knew right then and there he wanted to grab the side of my shoulders and just strangle the ever living nerves out of me.

Geez. If only talking to a person was like writing a Facebook comment, where you can edit and delete what you say before “submitting”, life would be much easier.

But you know, there is one thing, the only questions I think I rocked at were the technical questions. If I had it my way, I would only allow questions such as “What tools from Photoshop would you use to recreate this picture?” instead of “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”–JUST, NO!

I knew my chances of getting this internship was pretty slim, and seeing how many other candidates were waiting to get interviewed had stifled my confidence a bit.

The great twist to this story is that I heard back from the guy who interviewed me, saying how he wanted to offer the internship to me.

Yep, really didn’t expect that one. Time to celebrate–here are s’more polymer clay creations I made!