Lets talk about me.

A blog in 2025? Righhhttttttttt.

Just after failing a FNCE 2010 test (TLDR: holds a masters of Finance), I decided that maybe I was pretty enough to pursue a degree with no real worth. I weighed the options of adding a minor; to creative write or to journalism? I chose Journalism. Why? Mostly because I had just listened to a podcast about Jon Benet Ramsey and found out one of the original journalist on the case taught a 4000 level course on investigative journalism. I never took it, it was invite only and I pulled a 3.0 average in journalism on a good day. Anyways, my creative writing minor! She was left in the past because what was I going to do with it? Write a blog?

Welcome to No Bearing on Reality. Aptly named because I've never been known for my tight grip on reality. Delusions this, delusions that, I want to write about the real detachment from truth, vivid hallucinations related to moments that everyone finds minuscule, I want to discuss harmful day dreams, I want to discuss the manic ability to start over with a different personality. That being said, I’m here mostly to stop posting on my private snapchat story, my friends have gone through enough, and to keep my mom from asking if I'm still taking my Prozac. Realistically I deeply believe that I might be a genius, not in the traditional sense but in the sense that I just am one. With the same level of vitriol, same appreciation for the Crystal, same willingness to wear cowboy boots to my finance job I take on the burden to be the Beth Dutton of the blogosphere. Unyielding, a little pissed off and definitely going through something. I fear the only people that will read this is the same people that I sent this link to, however on the off chance some fortuitous soul stumble upon my blog here are the promises I make you: I will always have the right opinions, I will name drop with a little editing for plausible deniability and pursue the arts (blogosphere) without any hesitation as I will redact my name throughout so I can speak my truth to the ether.

It may be time to heal my inner child, and to solve that, what better than to unpack every social scandal I created and participated in. It may be time to get healthy, to discuss my DOC (tylenol PM) and my sordid past with the anti depressant of the month or when I got liver damage from celsius. Speaking of ‘of the month’, we were too soon to forget my WBOTM (white boy of the month) and I see no better opportunity than now to discuss every crush I’ve had since 2018; even pulling out the boyfriend tracker. It's time to learn more about personal finance, because while I now have a favorite credit card and know what a derivative is (kinda), I also once put my rent on a Discover card. It's time to assess my self awareness issues, like the time ChatGPT told me I looked like Sofia Vergara and it affected me deeply or how I’m coming to terms with having hair that is red forward. It's definitely time to discuss corporate America and how I should retire at 23. It's always time for learning and self growth, research on the political scene, like when did crunchy girls become republican or celebrities that I think belong to each hunger games district. It's time to go back to long form content, and give me space to tell you I hate Carrie Bradshaw and I don’t go a day without thinking about Sansa Stark and why Newt had to die in the last 40 minutes of the third maze runner.

I rose to fame twice in my life, both on my private snapchat story, but when was the last time YOU had an 85% response rate, for me it was never, because I removed people that didn't get my truth for a full 100%, no wonder my career has taken me to financial reporting! My kitchen confessionals series brought me a platform to speak my deepest delusions, I’m talking when I would take walks in the cold and listen to the Harry Potter sad soundtrack when a man who probably couldn't pronounce my first name didn't text me back about something I definitely already did or when I frequently attended a karaoke until 2AM with a swim practice a 6AM, leading to a Celsius induced psychosis hallmarked by crying in the engineering building bathroom at 10AM. Or even more recently when kitchen confessionals surpassed the white marble counter tops and target barstools of my grad school apartment after a night out that I had no business attending and became my Ikea vanity in my parents house after a event probably involving Montana State University that I had no business attending. But the first taste of fame I felt was my ins and outs series; people lived and died by it, women went into debt to when I said sunglasses inside were IN, babies were brought to me to be blessed when I announced Maroon 5 was IN, I was contacted by the EPA for my professional opinion after delivering the news that the sun was in fact OUT, and men fell to their knees when I said they were OUT (I still mean this - unless you have a crush on me then we can work something out). So something I can guarantee you is a weekly list of undeniable weekly ins and outs, with no bearing on reality but mandatory for the following seven days. If you disagree, fine. I wouldn't know, but I hear that sometimes people are wrong and misguided. It's all okay though, wait a week for the next set of laws. I can also guarantee my truth, no matter how far away from the grasp of reality, to show that I am a genius in my own way and that you (I) make the reality you (we) live in.

I'm thrilled to be here, thanks for having me. I can't wait to share this little corner of the internet with you far away from the pressure and rules that come with living in reality. I hope we can learn from my lore or at least I can start to speak on some things that should either be memorialized or buried.

Give me your email.

xoxo

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