My Year In Review

Now that I got that pesky little warning out of the way, let’s begin, shall we? I touched on the whole drive behind my blogging addiction in this #tbt of an entry. The truth is, I didn’t foresee anyone – except my mom, Marti – giving a flying f about my time across the pond, but according to WordPress, “You Stay Classy, San Diego” accumulated thousands of views – and realistically Marti could only take credit for, like, half of those.

Those numbers are both flattering (shout out to some follower in the Philippines who apparently reads my entries on the reg) and concerning (in hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have publicly shared my drunken mishap involving Smurfs or that time I called my study abroad advisor Voldemort).

Yet it was a different narrative back then; even if viewers didn’t personally know my friends, or even me/their darling author very well, the Internet tends to dig travel stories. Now in the land of Saint West, soul cycling, and Kombucha, there’s less of an appeal for you – the reader – to join me on my daily adventures, as deserving as my life is of its own reality show. (“Up next! In an all-new episode of Ratchets with Assets, Arianna finds herself in hot water when, after pretending to be a former backup singer for K-Ci & Jojo, her crush invites her to perform at his brother’s wedding!” The critics would’ve loved it.)

So, to get my writing fix, I’ll probably pen a good 10 entries on the highlights of 2015, but should have some sort of theme to tie it all in after that. Simply talking about my life feels so egotistical, even for me.

A few friends have suggested I revamp my blog with a collection of stories from my dates with LA’s Homeliest, since my greatest talent in life seems to be getting targeted by socially inept mouth breathers deserving of a million left swipes. Exhibit A:

Would you believe he never messaged me back? Real shame.

It would be like Sex and the City but with uncomfortable eye contact instead of sex. Truth be told, I’m beyond tempted to do that (I’d even be willing to sacrifice the little dignity I have left and create a Tinder profile to gain access to more creepers)… but then it occurred to me that if these stage 5 clingers ever discovered I was writing about them in what some might call my “snarky” or “verbally abusive” manner, it wouldn’t go over well. And I want to avoid the whole ‘my body ending up in a ditch’ thing.

So any other suggestions you have, lay ’em on me. I could use an excuse to talk about myself *hair flip*

But for now, here’s my year in review, which will primarily consist of the following: eating sushi and getting drunk (or occasionally getting drunk then eating sushi), being late, making jokes at inappropriate times, and hating nice guys. Rated PG-13 for language… and hopefully sexual content!

(That was a joke, Mom.)

Note: Some names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. If you’re featured in these entries (or would like to be featured because you’re an attention whore like that) and wish to go by a pseudonym, let me know. This blog will inevitably become world-renowned and it would be a real buzzkill if I were the reason you got fired.

Note 2: Do yourself a favor and don’t take anything I say on here seriously.