All warm and fuzzy

God & the Universe may have given me a dumb blonde karma, but at least they’ve blessed me with a mother who truly hears me when I self-deprecate.

I’d just sent her an email about how an ad agency had expressed some interest in me and told me they’d call me back the next day.  And I felt pretty good until I found out that they’d also been asking around about my old art director, hoping that we could work together as a team.  So when this agency found out that she is already art directing somewhere else and I didn’t hear back from them the next day, I told my mom that they must’ve wanted her – and I was just included.  Like the plastic fork that comes with the salad.  The sticker on the banana.  The ketchup packet that comes with the burger.

Almost immediately, I got an email back from my mom.  It started with, “Dear Ketchup,” 


And that y'all, is the kind of thing is that confirms that this woman is my own flesh and blood.




P.S. It turns out that I am not a plastic fork after all.  And the good news for y'all is that I will soon  be Stupid New Girl somewhere else.  Get ready.