Author: Arianna

“What are you?” -every guy in a bar, ever

Now residing in Los Angeles – or more specifically, Marina Del Rey – my days have been equally messy as I attempt to make my mark on every corner of the city of angels. In Santa Monica, after celebrating St. Patrick’s Day accordingly at an Irish pub, I supposedly indulged in alligator tacos. I cannot for the life of me explain why that happened, but I can tell you that earlier that night went a little something like this: Continue reading →

“You always look so nice. Like you just stepped out of the shower.” – what wrinkled old men say to me at hospitals. 23-years-old and I still got it!

Enter the year 2015. It was my third anniversary of beating teen pregnancy and I hungrily craved new beginnings. Not that I had room to complain: my job was relatively stress-free, I had an office buddy to hold me accountable when I wasn’t sticking to a healthy diet (which was every day, who knew?), and I was a recent grad only working 40-50 hour weeks, which is about as common nowadays as diversity at an Oklahoma frat mixer. Continue reading →

I was trying to deduce if anyone else had higher than a 10th grade education when my name was called. You go into these sort of things assuming you have no expectations – until you enter the studio, and realize that these expectations exist and they’re 100% accurate. I saw racks upon racks of glitzy wardrobes. A massive white backdrop ringed by lights and cameras. A single photographer: Asian, shoulder-length hair, and effortlessly chic in his distressed jeans and tight v-neck. There was also a herd of 20-somethings with clipboards glued to their noses, frantically scribbling notes. They were undoubtedly interns and chic in a trying-really-hard way. Continue reading →

So what exactly is a modeling photoshoot like, you ask? Your girl Riri’s here to tell you. For privacy reasons, I won’t divulge the company name, but I will say that you’ve probably seen the store before – there’s one at the mall in Long Beach as well as back home in NorCal – and it’s more or less interchangeable with Forever 21. So the demographic is definitely younger, which made me nervous, coupled with the fact that the flyer I received clearly stated sizes 0-2 (“Am I still a size 2?” I wondered. I thought back to the night before, when I almost threw up after eating an entire box of Birthday Cake Oreos, half a jar of Skippy peanut butter, and an inhumane number of dill pickles. “Probably not.”) Continue reading →

“Anyone can be a model!” -Kendall Jenner, probably

On a few separate occasions, I was scouted to be a model. Well, at least, that’s what I was told; it’s tough to say whether the randoms who approached me in London were actually looking for fresh talent or just another clueless American for their kidnapping ploy.

Either way, my dad hadn’t quite mastered the Taken monologue yet (“I have a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career…”), so I felt that the risk outweighed the reward. Fast forward to the weeks following graduation and I was somehow employed but with a start date scheduled for mid-August. I had crammed my summer with frequent trips: constantly revisiting San Diego, seeing family back home, thirdwheeling my parents in Vegas (don’t ask), and settling into my new crib in the LBC. Yet I still found myself straddled with free time. Continue reading →

If I could have, I never would have graduated from college. But then Marti and Tim gently reminded me that if I wanted to be a super senior, 100% of the funds were on me and all of the nonexistent money I racked up from my unpaid internships – so 4 years it was! It’s been Season 1 of my own personal Real World, and through these trying times, I’d like to think I’m older and maybe, possibly a teensy bit wiser. (Okay, probably not.) Continue reading →

1.  Your $200,000+ tuition is going towards maintaining a patch of tulips by the church.

2. Our lunch specials will taste better than even your most cherished family recipes.

3. Those who claim college is a completely new and different experience from high school don’t, as Mean Girls would put it, even go here. Class sizes of roughly 30 students: check. Sporting events no one cares about: check. Fascist regime ensuring you never take a sip of the devil’s elixir/alcohol: check. Hooking up with some cute guy at a party and subsequently seeing him in your 9 am accounting class, the Maher circle tram stop, three tables over in the cafeteria, buying a classic bean-and-cheese at Sara’s, and basically every freaking day for the rest of your college career: check, check, CHECK. Continue reading →

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). Continue reading →