Today: a Creative/Influencer and Hostess who makes $70,000 per year and spends some of it this week on Gucci platform sandals.
Occupation: Artist
Industry: Entertainment
Age: 25 (acting age range: 16-30)
Location: The City of Angels
Salary: $70,000 ($25,000 from restaurant + $20,000 side gigs of babysitting and social media sponsorship + $25,000 financial support from parents)
Net Worth: Not exactly sure but I did buy some MicroVision stock the other day, and it’s gone up because it’s green now and not red. My friend says it’s a sure thing. I’m getting into stocks now. It’s just smart for the future.
Debt: $0 (v blessed)
Paycheck Amount (weekly): $480
Pronouns: She/Her
Monthly Expenses
Rent: $1,200 (I rent a room in a small 3 bedroom/2 bath house in Santa Monica. It’s my friend’s parents’ house, so I get a really good deal and don’t even have to pay for utilities or anything. I just have to make sure to get along with my friend which is hard because she stinks up the kitchen cooking, and I think I can’t take it anymore, but then I’m like don’t move out because you won’t have this backyard which is the perfect setting for my paid-sponsorship-IG videos.)
Equinox: $200
Corepower Yoga: $139 (I no longer go to Equinox because my ex is an instructor there, but I can’t get out of my contract with them. But I must work out for my spiritual and physical health, so I started going to Corepower.)
Netflix, Hulu, HBO Max, Amazon Prime: N/A (I use my dad’s—shhhh my stepmom thinks it’s our little secret.)
Mint: $16.99 (I had to download this to even figure out how much I was spending to do this article.)
Followers Tracker Pro: $2.99
More Followers Pro: $5.99
Apple Music: $9.99
Spotify: $9.99 (I know I should pick either Apple Music or Spotify but I can’t decide—I keep going back and forth.)
WiFi: $60 (I do pay for this because my roommate buys all of the toilet paper and paper towels, so I think that’s probably fair.)
Charity: I think charity is so important, and once I’m more successful I will donate to places like Planned Parenthood and Catholic Charities.
A Day In The Life
9:00am: Alarm goes off for me to make the 9:45 yoga class.
9:09am: Alarm goes off again.
9:18am: Alarm goes off again, so I turn it off completely. I can go to yoga later today.
10:55am: Wake up naturally and drink the room temp bottle of Pedialyte next to me. I was out late last night because today is my day off. Had to make up for not being able to go to bars for over a year!
11:30am: Drive to Alfred Coffee and get a large iced vanilla latte with hemp milk and a yogurt parfait because I’m starving. $15 (It would’ve been only $11 but I accidentally tipped $4 because my finger slipped on the iPad, and then I couldn’t go back to change it because the barista seemed sad.)
12:00pm: Get a text from my friend Sean asking where I am. I forgot we had lunch plans, so I lie about coming all the way from the east side, stopping for gas, and blah blah blah. I’ll make it up to him. Even though Sean is annoying as hell, I can’t cancel because he’s going to set me up with his commercial agent. I have to run home to put on makeup and change, but then I meet him on Montana Avenue only 25 minutes late. I’m a pro. I pay for lunch because I have to make it seem like I really feel bad for being late. Don’t judge me for ordering drinks at lunch. $85
2:30pm: Go back home for a power nap.
4:00pm: The smell of my roommate cooking cauliflower in our kitchen wakes me up. I’m so grossed out that I leave the house. Just get it in smoothies like I do. You don’t need to cook that sh*t. I get in my car and this little (!) comes on, which after Googling, I figure out means that one of the tires is low. Sh*t.
4:10pm: I pull into a gas station by the air and water pump. I’ve never actually done this myself, but I’m a strong, independent woman, dammit—I can do this! Once I bend down to examine the first tire, a gas station worker comes over and says he would do it for me if I have any cash. He is legit because his shirt has his name in cursive on that cute patch. I look in my wallet but only have a $20 bill. He says that will be fine because I’m so pretty and nice. Cash doesn’t really count anyway. I don’t even know how I have it. He checks all of my tires for me. I think he says the back left one was a little low. $20
4:30pm: Run into Erewhon to get a Green Goddess Superfood Smoothie. Since I had suuuuch a big lunch I’m not hungry, but I have to eat something before my acting class. God, why is everything in this city so expensive? I’m just trying to survive! $16.50
4:40pm: I realize I’m out of gas. I really should’ve gotten some while I was at the gas station earlier, but I didn’t even notice. Gas has gone up a lot in price. It’s probably because of all of the Teslas. $62.88
5:00-8:00pm: I attend my intensive method acting class. This is the first day, so I have to pay upfront with a check. It’s a really big deal because this acting teacher taught Philip Seymour Hoffman (RIP). It will look so great on my resume. $700
8:15-10:15pm: I get drinks with my class at a bar down the street. Stefanie says she’s going to Venmo charge me but who knows when. $TBD
11:00pm: I’m finally in bed after a long and hard day—so much for a day off. Dammit, I forgot to go to yoga. I decide to watch Almost Famous because I lied to my classmates tonight and said it’s one of my favorites. I can’t find it on any streaming platform, so I have to rent it. $3.99
1:00am: I stumble downstairs to eat some of my roommate’s cauliflower in the fridge. I’m starving, okay.
4:33am: I wake up to go pee. I remember that I’m out of my daily moisturizer with SPF, so I order some on Amazon. I also add these metal straws that I’ve had in my Save For Later for months now. $38.99
Daily total: $~942.36
Clearly, it’s almost impossible to survive in LA. I don’t know how I do it. It feels like even going out to breathe costs $100. I’m very fortunate to have my parents helping me out. My parents are divorced and haven’t spoken to each other in years, so they actually have no idea that they’re both contributing. They each get to think they’re the hero which is really gracious of me. I also believe things are really about to take off in my career, and when that happens, I’ll no longer need support from them and can quit my hostessing job. For now, my hostessing job is great, and I actually make more money doing that per hour then I probably would doing something with my Communications degree. It is hard, but it’s so fulfilling and worth it to go for your dreams. Chris Brown once said, “Follow your dreams. Just make sure to have fun too.” That’s what I try to live by.
Images: Corey Saldana /Unsplash
So apparently the CDC is announcing that fully vaccinated people no longer have to wear a mask outdoors. And while all you sheeple might be rejoicing over being able to get Vitamin D to the lower half of your face and actually see what people look like when you pass them on the street, I’m not going to blindly follow some rules set forth by the government, even if they are in my best interest. I simply won’t do it. I won’t take off the mask! You can’t make me. I have freedoms, dammit, and rights, and I won’t be changing my behavior because a bunch of people with medical degrees tell me to. I went to a private liberal arts college to get a bachelors in creative writing, I’m no dummy!
Sue me, but I like wearing the mask, especially outdoors. I like that I can mouth along to my favorite Taylor Swift song while walking to the grocery store and nobody can tell what I’m doing under there. I also enjoy that I can make all the judgey facial expressions I want, and no one is the wiser! Is that such a crime?? Plus, if we’re being honest, I’ve gotten some killer maskne around my chin and upper lip, and I’m just not ready to debut that to the world yet. That tiny piece of cloth is cute, it’s breathable, and it hides half of my face from the world. If I want to keep it on forever, I’m going to do just that! And if I also want to drink a hard seltzer while walking down the street, I’m going to do that too, because last time I checked, this was a free country. (It goes without saying that I am white.) Laws? Never heard of ‘em!
Speaking of the CDC, how can we believe a single thing they say when they’re constantly updating the information as new research comes out? I like my guidelines like I like my Constitutional amendments: not updated in hundreds of years, even though we are in dire need of change.
Where are they getting this so-called information from, anyway? Oh, what, peer reviewed studies from the brightest minds in the field? Then how come I haven’t seen a single one of my high school friends post about it, hmm?
So you’re telling me it’s just a coincidence that, just in time for summer, when we’re sweating and our skin is oilier than ever—that’s when it’s suddenly okay to take the mask off outside? When we need more foundation to cover up our blemishes, different shades of foundation to go along with our tans, not to mention SPF?? How convenient! Seems like a ploy from Big Makeup to get us to buy more beauty products to me. Open your eyes!
You all have fun believing whatever the “scientists” tell you to believe. My friend from high school, Jenna (well actually, she’s not really a friend—in fact, she once told the whole school I was a slut despite the fact that I’d never even kissed anybody, but we just randomly got back in touch), who has a small business selling vegan cosmetics, is looking out for me. Unlike these scientists who just want to make more money. Yes, Jenna earns a small commission off every purchase of the $60 mascara and $45 eyeshadow, what of it? She said I’d be great at what she does, and it only costs a small startup fee of $99!
Go ahead, laugh. But when you get judgey looks for coughing into your elbow sans covering and swear it’s just allergies, don’t come crying to me.
Images: Yury Goryanoy /Stocksy
Hello to my gorgeous followers!
Well, as you know it’s been a long, cold, lonely winter and now that we’re all eligible for our vaccine, it’s time to PARTY PLAN!
You know I love a good party and I have been sorely deprived the last several months.
It’s true, my engagement fell apart during the pandemic, and it’s also true that I got a cute little puppy wuppy named Satchel to ease my sorrows. So, I was thinking, since y’all don’t know my sweet little snuggle lumpkins all that well yet, I decided I would throw a GENDER REVEAL!
Please feel free to like, share, retweet, stitch, duet, upvote, and tell your friends all my puppy party tricks. I’m really proud of how this one turned out.
I love a good gender reveal. I love them with balloons, and fireworks, and cake, and prizes, and betting, and wildfires.
Now you might be asking, isn’t gender a construct? OF COURSE. But don’t you wanna know who’s been a good boy or gurrrrrl? Plus, this is a doggo. Let the kitties be gender mewtral.
You might also be wondering if my pet is even gendered anymore, since you assume they’ve been fixed. Even a fixed dog can be feminine or masculine, y’all!
Also, before you ask, I knew I wanted to throw a gender reveal before I adopted Satchel, so I had the breeder write Satchel’s gender in a sealed envelope and I didn’t show it to anyone or take any peeks until giving it to my baker for the party.
The theme of this party is…drumroll please.
Spike or FiFi!
I also considered “Red Rocket or Polly Pocket” but I decided to make this a classy affair.
DRESS & DECOR: I went with a pink and black theme with spiked collars and leather for the boys and boy pets and pink tutus or fancy dress for the ladies. It has sorta an edgier Grease vibe. Like, sexier, but also cute. So we have leather-clad tables and tutu flower arrangements and penis balloons and pink pussy hats. I dressed my pupper in this really cute little number that I stayed up all night making that was like a tutu on the bottom with a leather harness thing and a spiked collar but with bows. See pic. Scroll for the PDF download of the pattern. It’s free for my Patreon members or $69.99.
DRINKS & SNACKS: I had spiked (get it) lemonade and pink bellinis. For the pets, I had pink and black water bowls. To eat, there were wieners in a blanket and handmade doggie cookies in the shape of bows and spikes. I’m not going to lie, the spikes just looked like dicks, but it worked, right? For the humans, there were also wieners in a blanket and tacos and clams for the girl tie-in.
ENTERTAINMENT: I came up with some fun games. We had a battle of the sexes girls vs. boys doggie race. We also gave prizes for best- and worst-dressed. Satchel won best-dressed, of course. For the main event, I designed a doggie-friendly cake made out of dry food mixed with wet food and I added in a little PB just to make the whole thing stick together, and filled it with pink or blue tinted banana cream. I had it topped with more banana cream and had the bakery write, “Spike or Fifi” on the top with a little picture of Satchel in the outfit I made. Scroll forever for the recipe.
Okay, so the party started off great. We had fantastic tunes, strong drinks, and good vibes all around. Then, one of the guests, this bratty little lab mutt my cousin rescued from the pound who, YES won worst-dressed, and whose name is inexplicably Fifi, even though I told her that was the theme of the party, got into the gender reveal cake and ate the whole thing before we could do the big reveal announcement.
My little Satchel was absolutely heartbroken and decided to poop all over the twister board in despair. The smell, plus, apparently the combo of hot dogs, clams, tacos, and champagne, set off a barf chain reaction among the hoomans. Once we had it all cleaned up and under control, Fifi decided to steal the spotlight YET AGAIN and poop out the entirety of the gender reveal cake. We sifted through the remains and it was all mostly brown but also maybe a little blue, so we decided to say that my sweet whittle Satchel is, in fact, a boyboy.
So, my advice, besides that you need to make sure you properly refrigerate the clams, is that you should stay away from bitches named Fifi. They will steal your cake and lose their sh*t.
KK love and light, my followers. Stay tuned for next week’s post: How to Cut Toxic People Out Of Your Life When You’re an Empath.