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20-Something, Hipstercrite Life

This is Life at 28

I always knew that 28 was going to be a pivotal age for me.

When I still worked in Hollywood, 25 would be the age that the ball really started rolling career-wise, and 28 would be the age that I, for the lack of a lesser cheesy phrase, “made the big time”. I wasn’t sure what “making the big time” exactly entailed, but I knew it involved financial freedom and a certain amount of career notoriety that would prevent me from drinking at home alone and writing emo music lyrics on my mirror in marker.

Of course I never accounted for the fact that I would soon view my career path as repugnant as a public restroom on Venice Beach.

Well, both 25 and 28 were important ages, but not in the ways that I imagined they would be. At 25 I left the film business and moved to Austin and at 28 I left working 9-5 and went freelance. I also fell in love with an amazing person. I also started growing this cool Rogue-esque white patch in the front of my hair.

I’m halfway through my 28th year and (more…)

20-Something, Hipstercrite Life

This is the Post Where I Bitch About Money


Didn’t come from it, never had it, don’t currently have it.

If  money was something I cared about more, then I probably wouldn’t be poor. Though I’ve worked non-stop since I was legally able, I care more about enjoying life than working towards being wealthy. The little taste I got of the 24/7 work lifestyle in Los Angeles was enough to push me into a constant state of living paycheck to paycheck.

I don’t like being poor. It’s not fun to not have extra money to buy things like a new book or clean underwear every once in awhile, but it’s the choice I made. I keep thinking that one day, maybe, I’ll strike rich. Maybe I’ll write a book and sell it. Maybe our movie will make it big. However, the older I get, I wonder if I’ll wake up one day at 45 and think, “Shit, I’m still dirt ass poor.”

Of course, I’m only 28, so maybe I shouldn’t be rich. The only people who are 28 and rich came from money or work in stocks.

I’m also an “artist” in a sense, so I’m supposed to be (more…)


Newt Gingrich’s Attack on Poor Children: A Poor Family’s Perspective

Over the past two weeks I’ve noticed a lot of social media anger and teasing directed towards Rick Perry’s recent “Strong” commercial wherein he gripes about gays being able to serve openly in the military but children not being allowed to pray publicly in school.  Around the same time another Republican made an equally prejudice and cruel comment regarding “really poor children, in really poor neighborhoods [who] have no habits of working and have nobody around them who works”, the “stupidity” of child labor laws, and the idea that poor children should become janitors in their schools. I’m surprised that Newt Gingrich’s speech hasn’t created as strong of an outrage considering how completely insensitive and ridiculous the speech was. When I first heard quotes from his speech on NPR, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was it a joke? How could somebody be so thoughtless and downright mean?

I took particular offense to Gingrich’s speech because I came from what one could call a (more…)

20-Something, Hipstercrite Life

Making the Twenty-Something Leap

There comes a point in every young person’s life where they have to make the jump.

Have to because they can’t kid themselves that they’re happy with the safe route anymore. Working jobs that mean nothing to them and waking up every morning trying to kid themselves that they care. Ignoring the hunger pains of a creative appetite gnawing away at them.

“But life is sometimes about working jobs that you don’t like!” the age-old sentiment kept cycling through my head. “But not if I have any say it!” I finally answered back one day. Last week. When I realized that now was the time.

I was born from a musician and an artist. One took the safe route her entire life and regrets it, the other jumped on the Autobahn to creative anarchy. My father tried going the safe route- which included marriage, kid, and steady employment- but ultimately he couldn’t handle the confines. Do I blame him? No. Because I’m just like him. “And that scares me,” my mother can often be found saying. But we live (more…)


The MetroMillennial Dilemma

I just made up a word: MetroMillennial. It means a Generation Y-er who lives in a big city or has big city hopes and goals.

I’m a metromillennial. I was born in 1983 in a small town in Upstate New York. I always knew I wanted to live in New York City (which I never have). My family raised me to be curious about the world, to dream big, and to not let the confines of our small town hold me back.

Because of this, I left my small town at the first opportunity I had. I moved to LA seven years ago, then Austin three years ago, and I’ve never lived in my small town again.

I’ve felt guilty ever since.

If you are a metromillennial typically your big city trek takes you far from home (unless you’re one of those enviable breeds born in a big city and stayed). I came from an area of the country that is economically depressed and subsequently emotionally depressed. Regardless of if I wanted to live in a big city or not, if I wanted to have a semi-decent quality of life and desirable career(more…)