I’ve really missed my blog lately. I’ve been running so crazy that I couldn’t even think of anything to write about on here.

I mean, I haven’t even done my make up in like a month, let alone written on my blog. That is just not like me.

Actually, it is like me. I’m very inconsistent with my blog over the weeks, but over the years, I have been killing it at this for almost 6 and a half years.

Anyways, the last couple of days there has been some lyrics from a song stuck in my head:

All will be well

Even after all the promises you’ve broken to yourself

All will be will

You can ask me how, but only time will tell.

This has been coming to my mind since there have been a few situations recently where things haven’t panned out and the aftermath leaves you just trying your hardest to manage.

In other words, trying to keep your head and then keep it above water.

But I just like the words of that song about how even after breaking promises to yourself, which I have done quite often, things will get better after time.

And that is comforting to me right now.

(All Will Be Well – The Gabe Dixon Band)



I have been working at a new job in Draper for about 6 weeks now and it is actually one that I think I would be okay staying at for a long while.
I may die at this job and that’s okay.
I don’t necessarily fit in, but that’s okay too.

I don’t work out and this company has a full, huge gym in the building.
But one thing that I do while at work that just seems to baffle everyone is I like to walk up and down the stairs. My work has 4 floors and 6 flights of stairs and I try to go and walk up and down those stairs a few times a day.
Right now my goal is 5 times a day, because I have watched my Fitbit and one time up and down is 250 steps. So, if I were to go up and down 5 times in a day, it would be a 1000 steps. Which is a nice portion when you have a Fitbit. Also, I read online that walking up 3 flights of stairs burns 15 calories, so if I were to do it 5 times a day, I would have burned 150 extra calories without working out or putting on special shoes. In fact, it only takes me about 3 and a half minutes to walk up and down the stairs one time.
So far I have only been able to fit in doing it 4 times a day, but that still is 120 calories and pretty good in my opinion.
My goal would be to work up to being able to walk up and down the stairs twice in a row, which if I could do that 5 times a day, it would end up being 300 calories.

It is a bit lost on my coworkers though and the other people who work in this building.
There have been a couple of times when I have been walking up and down the stairs and someone will hold the door for me on a particular level. Sometimes I will be polite and go through the door and then wait til they walk away to go back to the stairwell.
Most of the time I will just smile and tell them it’s not might floor. I’ve had a couple of people look at me like I am the most weird person and say:

So, you’re just walking up and down the stairs?

Yep. I am that weird.
I walk up and down the stairs.
There have been a couple other times where it feels a little uncomfortable, like when I walk up to my desk afterwards all out of breath and it seems like I got that way from just two flights of stairs to the second floor.
Or I just imagine the people walking past seeing this chubby, out of breath girl trying to smile at them as she walks up the stairs.
Oh Well.
I usually don’t get crazy out of breath until I am on the last flight, funnily enough.

I have actually seen some benefit to this already in that my legs have been killing my all week just from walking up and down the stairs. The other night our puppy kept running over my calves when I was kneeling next to the bed and I about killed him.
Other than that, it makes me feel productive in some way without having to put forth the full effort of working out.
I have been trying to be more reasonable with myself and build up to certain goals. Like I switch my Fitbit daily goal from 10,500 steps to 5,500. 10,500 is awesome and I probably should be doing that, but I have yet to achieve it consistently and I would rather work up to it and give myself good, reachable goals that become indifferent to the goal because it’s too high.

Anyways, I walk up and down the stairs at work and people think I’m weird.


So, over the last year and a half or so my goal has been to get out of debt.
I have also been wanting to be better financially, so I worked on different savings/investment account and even started balancing my checkbook as well as doing a budget.

Now, there is occasionally when I am doing all of this, it seems like I am really on top of things.
Like that huge mountain of debt (not that huge, but still more than I could pay off in a year) is going to actually be attacked.
But then there are days like today when I am making my budget for my 5th paycheck and I realize that making a budget just shows me exactly why I am broke.
It isn’t really helping me to be smarter with my money, it’s really just showing me exactly why I am broke.

For example, random unexpected charges.
Like my gym’s annual fee which is 2x my monthly fee, meaning I am going to be paying my gym payment 3 times this month.
Or Amazon randomly charging me for something that I did not buy, thus over drafting my account.
They did issue a refund, but now I have a nice $35 fee slapped onto me.

I don’t really spend a lot on excess. I really try to be frugal, especially now that I see where all of my money goes.
But in a lot of ways I wish I didn’t know.
Like I wish I could just throw up my hands like “I don’t know where all my money goes!”
Instead I know exactly where it goes and that there is simply a lack of funds currently in my life.

Budgeting is just one of those things that will get better once you do it more and as I slowly pay off my debts, there will be more money.
However, right now I feel like every few weeks I should just create a budget and write “YOU’RE POOR” across it and call it good.
Except once you get in a habit, you cannot stop.




So, I have a sense of humor that is a little bit…different.
It’s very dry and often times very dark.
It does not include toilet humor in any sense.

Anyways, I have moved again as everyone knows who have read my blog the last little bit. In with my grandfather.
This means that I have gotten a new job and this time around I was more looking for something that could fit the schedule of helping him and not just something that fit what I am used to working in.

So, I just barely started at this company a few weeks ago and they are very closely knit and casual.
They have a lot of inside jokes.
And I have made the mistake in the past before of walking into a job that I am new at and acting like I have always been there. I have the confidence to do that and I am rarely uncomfortable in situations, but in the past that approach at new jobs alienated coworkers and made me appear cocky.
Go figure.
Anyways, at this particular company, I have been told to interact more with the group since I was very reserved when I first came to the company.

So, today they put a Birthday card on my desk to sign.
Maybe I am just weird, but I have only had one conversation with the person that this Birthday card is for.
I didn’t know what to sign it.
I kind of pushed it away a little bit and one of the ladies at my work who really likes me and really likes to have everyone included told me that I needed to sign it.
It was important, apparently.
But I have never known anyone that really read a corporate card and gone through the different messages people have written.
I know that I never have. Even the card a company got me when I moved for them and everyone signed it.

So, I sat for a while thinking about what I could put that I would find funny if I opened up the card and saw it.
And I suppose that maybe it was a little passive aggressiveness on my part as well, because I didn’t see why they needed me to sign the card, but this is what I ended up signing:

Card Sign

I thought I was so hilarious and I still think I am.
Nothing was ever said, probably since the person never read the card, but I just thought I would share since I think that Birthday cards and cards in general can be very pointless when it comes from people they do not know well.
My favorite are the “Sorry for your loss” cards.
That will really make you feel better.

I’m probably just a brat.


I am sure I have talked about this before on my blog, but we actually don’t know the reason that we have dreams.
It’s an interesting process with the REM cycle and the sleep paralysis that happens, but they are not entirely sure what reason we have dreams.
One theory is that dreams our simulations by our subconscious to see how we would react to certain situation. It helps us prepare for survival in situations we may have not experienced yet.

Anyways, last night I had this dream where I was trying to run a 5k and my sister did not want me to. She told me that she was worried about me and I told her that she could just follow me in my car to make sure it worked out.
(But the 5k was on the beach? Not sure how it worked. Dream logic.)

Well, long story short, I did not end up finishing the 5k, because my car actually started to have problems. So, I told my sister that I would try driving it instead of finishing the race.
When I got in the car, it would not start and I could not figure out why the car would not work. After trying for a few minutes, I saw a light on my dash saying that the car was on fire.

I got out of the car and opened up the back (it’s a hatchback).
It wasn’t a raging fire, but specific areas that were on fire. I then attempted to blow on the flames in the trunk of my car and it actually worked.
I used my breath to put out the fire in the back of my car, but that was when I noticed that all of the tires were gone.
All that was left was the rims and the tires had been shredded off and my sister had been driving on the rims for the past while of following me.

It was then that I just sat down next to my car and my sister called my mother.
When my mother came, they were trying to discuss what they would do next and I was just sitting next to my car thinking about how it would work out. How I would take the bus to work until I had money for the new tires and whatever the cost would be to fix what caused the fire.

That was when I woke up.
I have no clue what this dreams means or what the test was. (Pretty sure I failed if my response to a fire is trying to blow it out.)
Or even what my subconscious was trying to tell me, but I felt like writing it down that my car caught on fire and all I do in a situation of losing my car was just sitting next to it.

Go Team.


I don’t really have anything specific I wanted to write here, but I feel the need to update lately and so that is what I am going to do.
I’m currently in the middle (well, Tuesday) of my first full week back in Utah. I got here in the early morning last Friday.
I ended up staying longer in LA than I wanted to.
I got a flat tire and it turned out I needed not only a new tire, but a new rim as well since it cracked.

As it turns out, the person who owned my Prius before me put custom rims on it.
Because everyone pimps out their 2013 Priuses with custom wheels, right?
It took me 8 hours to find something that could fit and it doesn’t even match. I now have the three custom silver wheel rims and one black one.
I didn’t really care about looks at that point.

Now I am just in Utah looking for a job full-time.
I have had an offer and quite a few interviews, but nothing that has stood out as what I should be doing full-time from now on.
I am looking to slow down from what I have been doing before. Travelling at least two nights a week and working lots of nights and weekends?
I didn’t really have a full social life.
So, I am looking for something that is a little less time intensive. Focus on things that are actually not work related, like I mentioned in my previous post.

I am in limbo.
I don’t know what I am doing, which I feel is a common theme on my blog.
Please read my blog that completely lays out how much I do not know what I am doing with my life.

Killing it.


Okay, I’m 22 years old.
I am almost 23, but I start off this post by mentioning this simply to state: I’m not old.
I’m not super old, but I am also what is considered an “old soul” in that I have always been mature even since I was younger.
But that aside, the beginning of this post is me stating that I am not in fact old.

So, when I moved to Provo I decided that I was going to move in with roommates, because I didn’t know anyone here in Provo and I thought it would be a good way for me to adjust to Utah life. Then when things got weird and I wanted to move, I realized that paying such a small amount in rent could mean that I could get my own house in a year and a half to a year.
I’m all about that.
In fact, it’s my major goal now.

Anyways, I am living with these three other girls and two of them are 20 and the other one is 18. Now, it seems like they are just a few years younger than me, but in reality it’s like I am 10 years older than them simply because of maturity.
One of them has actually started calling me “Mom”, because so much of the advice I give and the things I say as they are making decisions is sounds like a mother who is trying to do what’s best for the children.
Not sure how I feel about that, but it’s just how things come out.

There are always moments though with them where I just realize how old I am.
Recently we were all sitting in our living room talking late at night and all of a sudden the 18-year-old roommate starts screaming.
She was facing a window and she said that she saw a face with a mask on in the window. My first reaction was I walked over and closed the blinds.
But she would not stop crying.
So, I went outside and found that the girls in the apartment next to ours (also very young) decided to do their make up like American Horror Story and stick their face in our window.
American Horror Story
So, part one of being an adult, giving lectures to young girls about what if someone saw them walking around and attacked them since they were dressed so scary late at night.
Also, that those sorts of pranks are not funny, but mean and how badly they scared my roommate.

Then I return to my apartment and find all of my roommates plotting revenge against these girls for being so cruel. They were coming up with things they could do in order to “get them back”.
Their best idea would be where they would purchase a bunch of frozen spiders from a pet shop, usually used to feed to snakes and then re-freeze them to where the spiders are stunned, thaw them and then put them in a box on these girls front doorstep.
Huge dick move.

Second part of being an adult:

“Okay guys, we can do that, but then they really won’t think about how wrong what they did is.
Also, that would put us on their level.”

The looks they all gave me.
As the words were coming out of my mouth, I did feel super old.
I mean, only old people want someone to think about what they have done wrong when getting them back.

There are just a lot of moments lately where I have been realizing how old I have become.
It’s like when my roommates tell me that I am rich.
I am not rich, I am just old. Older people have better jobs. Simple as that.

The point is, it’s not funny to dress up like a scary person and walk around at night.
That’s just irresponsible.

Stress Acne.

Okay, if my life was a book (which it kind of is) the last month of my life would be written under a chapter called “Stress Acne”.
I moved to Utah last weekend and the weeks leading up to this change were just as stressful as making the change and the week that followed making this change.
I didn’t really blog about it, even though a few people asked me to, simply because I was too stressed out to even be able formulate words describing how stressed out I was.
There has been a lot of crying this last week. And a flat tire, my car being towed, horrible meetings, fights with roommates and lots of nightmares that I wake up thinking they are true.
That’s a lot of things that I didn’t want to blog about, because then this really would become a crying fest.

I was talking with someone recently who told me that we truly underestimate how traumatic it is to uproot everything we know and start over.
I feel like there is a major amount of truth to that. As I have been moving, even the smallest person in my life from California can make me cry.
I mean, I’m not best friends with this person, but suddenly I love them because they represent everything about my old life that I am missing.
The simplest things in life suddenly become super difficult.
For example, Utah doesn’t have Bank of America. There is one ATM 45 miles away from my house that I have to drive to if I want to access my account with Bank of America.
That was really upsetting when I found that out.

I don’t really know what else to say about the move, because I’m just trying my best at this point and I have honestly reached a point where if something bad happens, I just start laughing.
I mean, when you hit a point where you get a flat tire the week after you’ve moved, you have reached your max on getting upset.
You reach a point of ‘Oh Well’
You get lost again. It’s freezing cold always. You have no socks.
Oh freaking well.
It will all work out.

(There is a song there, you can listen to it here.)



I have successfully become a ghost.
Let me elaborate.

Last night I was out with some friends and we went to go get some ice cream.
Pretty fun.
Well, we were all sitting around a table eating ice cream and another person came and walked up, one of the people at our table started to introduce everyone and started off with:

“This is Corrie, she is amazing. So enjoy her for two days, because she is gone.”

Whoa, what the heck?
I had that moment where I realized that I was leaving. Which I have been making plans this entire time for when I leave, but right then is when it finally hit me that I was actually leaving.
That’s when it got weird.

Suddenly everything I did with my friends or everything that I am doing now just feels like I am living in a memory.
Which sounds very odd, but that is how I feel at the moment.
Everyone that I talk to, everything that I do has relevance to what is happening right now, but also does not matter because I will not be here to see the results of what happens.
It’s like I am living in a memory.
Everything that happens is relevant and I am a part of it, but there is nothing I can do about what follows.
I am just a ghost hanging around that everyone is aware of, but I can’t really be a part of anything because I am already gone.

I don’t know what else to say about this except I am sad.
But sad doesn’t really cover the nostalgia I feel for the actual moments I am living in.
I am missing people who I am standing next to. I am pining for this that are happening in front of me.
I am a ghost.

Cause time and stuff.

Do you ever stop and look at a few things in your life and realize how changeable you are?
I am hella fickle.
I am consistently making decisions in my life and thinking “This is the way it’s going to be forever.” and then a year or even two years later I am changing it.

There are a couple of things that I think about that I thought for sure I would be married to and now I have no feeling toward it.
Some are superficial things like my car or the way I do my make-up, I want to change this.
Other are big things like deciding I was going to major in Psychology and now realizing I belong in tech. Or even bigger, thinking I don’t believe in God and then now realizing I do.

On the one hand I feel like this is a good thing. It implies that I am progressing. I am making strides in my life and consistently growing as a person.
Refining myself if you will to where one day, most likely the day I die, I will finally be the person I have always wanted to be.
Each day and each month I get closer to this goal of being a good person, being the best person that I can be.
It also shows experience. That I am learning new things and when I gain more experience with life as a whole, I change.

But on the other hand, when I realize that I am consistently changing all the time, it makes me a little wary of my decisions that I am making.
I mean, will buying Ray Bans today make me happy six months ago?
Will the things I declare on my blog or even to other people today be what I would want to be my opinions six months from now?
Or a year from now?
I can clearly never get a tattoo.
What if I got a pineapple on my butt and then six months from now I marry a guy who’s allergic.

It’s confusing.
I know that the changes I make are for the better. When I look retroactively at my choices, they usually seem stupid or I just didn’t know enough about myself or the world.
But it still makes me worry.
I mean, when I was 19  years old I thought I was so mature and so ready to take on the world.
Now, three years later, I can’t believe I trusted myself with a bank account.
And that makes me wonder about myself.
I mean, right now I feel like I have it all together, but would 25-year-old Corrie think that? What about 35-year-old Corrie?
She probably thinks I am out of control.

I just want to make good choices.
But whether a choice is good or not is all perspective based and not factual.
And I just plain don’t know.