Sorry for the late post on Day 17, folks. I was at Outside Lands, which is like foggy Coachella without the camping part.

Here’s a shot from 2014:

And one from 2013:

The difference? Not much, except for hair length. And this year, we wanted to sit down a lot more.

Not being a teenager at a music festival is fun: you get to buy beer legally, spend half your paycheck on roasted meat and buy into the marketing gimmicks because you actually buy things.

An added bonus: when you run into younger coworkers who are suddenly embarrassed for you to see them behaving like real humans, or smoking a cigarette, or enjoying EDM. It’s okay, folks. Even us oldies like dancing like fools when Haim asks us to.

Isn’t capitalism (and music) fun? I think so - and if you’re at the festival today, shake your booty for me. I’ll be working at a coffee shop down the street.

Grateful: we’ve exceeded...

Three years ago, I started at Edelman. A very tall receptionist led me to a makeshift kitchen and my temporary desk next to it, which was shoved in between stacks of boxes.

The office was mid-renovation, and in between onboarding trainings and sheepishly meeting people in hallways, there was the roaring sound of chainsaws and hammers.

Don’t worry - the construction eventually stopped, I eventually got a big girl desk, and those meetings became less furtive. Working at Edelman is a magical, supportive and competitive (in a good way) place. I’m grateful I’m here.

Three highlights:

I. edelselfie

Yep, I asked the CEO of the world’s largest PR agency if he could take a selfie on my phone. He was totally game.

II. Work like this clip.

III. @EdelmanSV. Follow on Twitter [here](twitter.com/edelmansv).

So here’s to milestones and loving where you work. Happy Friday!

Update on...

Thirsty Thursday, y'all!

In college, Thursday was an excuse to put on a silky top, some Seven jeans and put your Motorola Razr in your clutch, because we were pregaming at Pike.

Today, I spent a Thursday night making stuffed Poblano peppers, walking across the street to buy ice cream, then watching So You Think You Can Dance.

Which isn’t too different from teenage Clare, really.

So here’s a take on tbt - here are 9 quality vintage (and not so vintage) dance sequences to throw you back.

I. So You Think You Can Dance: The Bench Dance (2006)

Let me take you back to simpler times. Times where Celine Dion could fix anything and everything. There is just something about that moment when the two look through the bench at each other and it. is. just. everything.

GET READY TO CRY, Y'ALL.

II. The Red Shoes (1948)

This movie kind of scared me a little as a child. Even as a grownup there...

My first memory is of my father throwing me up into the air because Nick Van Exel made a 3-point play for the Los Angeles Lakers.

Nick, getting all choked up about my nostalgia.

So yep, basketball holds a dear place in my heart.

And today’s news of the first female coaching staffer in the NBA, Becky Hammon, a newly minted San Antonio Spur, (reported by Grantland) warms my heart immensely.

Though she’s technically the second, it’s encouraging news because the Spurs are fresh off a championship win. And when you watch this little PR video from earlier this year – it’s clear that the rest of the organization respects and admires her.

She’s not the only gal in the NBA, though - let’s not forget about the L.A. Clippers’ Natalie Nakase or the L.A. Lakers’ Jeanie Buss (a personal role model of mine, because she’s a total BAMF).

Some may ask, “Is basketball becoming a women’s game?” But...

You want to know something funny?

A dear friend today requested a post about confidence. My initial reaction?

Oh, I don’t know if I’m qualified to talk about that.

And yet (as I approach my three year anniversary at my current job) I’d be willing to bet that marked in the “things Clare does good” column would be “confidence.”

The confidence gap is real, even in a profession dominated by women and type A personalities with a lot to say (guilty of both). So what’s the secret to performing under pressure, with grace?

Here are 5 ways to be more confident:

1) Know your stuff. Do your research, but not too much. Colin Powell made decisions only using 40 to 70 percent of the information needed - and he waged wars. Too little and you’re unprepared, too much and you’re overwhelmed.

2) Practice resolve. I’ve seen a lot of people - in PR, life and beyond - crumble at the thought of...

When I was little, I was promised that if I worked hard enough, I too could be Jane Goodall and save all the animals, or my totally badass dentist, who went to college on a gymnastics scholarship and emerged a doctor who took a month off every year to tour the world with her partner. I too, was going to be a hard-working, down-to-earth working professional who would be independent, dependable and interesting.

Now that I’m a less little, that is 100 percent not the case. Being a girl who works hard and reads a little isn’t enough. You’re burdened with things you’re supposed to do.

This Refinery29 piece (h/t to my lovely friend Taya) says it all:

I should wear lipstick. I work for a style site, after all. But, I barely remember to put on Chapstick. I should also be using eye cream nightly. Isn’t that what I’m always reading? I’m in my early 30s. Shouldn’t I be scared of crow’s feet? (I...

Scenario No. 1

ohmyGAWD should I text him? I mean i haven’t heard from him since Tuesday but I usually hear from him every day. He’s going to think I’m crazy if i start.

Scenario No. 2

ugh, I was so mad at him last night for completely blowing me off, so I told him. But I totally regret it, cuz like, he’s totally going to think I’m like a psycho or something now.

I’ve said something to the effect of either of these statements more than once in my life. It’s easy to. Just like the scene in Mean Girls where the Plastics immediately start a round of “let’s criticize our bodies,” it’s easy to buy into the myth that showcasing any sort of neuroticism, nervousness or sliver of non-ecstatic emotion when it comes to romantic relationships as a straight woman is somehow a sign of mental illness.

It’s not, and I’m tired of spreading that dangerous lie.

Being upset about something and...

If you’re inside on this gorgeous day (in Northern California, at least), won’t you consider going outside, please?

I promise it’s pretty.

Crystal Springs, San Mateo, Calif.

It’s easy to stay in bed forever on Saturday, eat nachos in bed and binge watch Mad Men. But so is remembering that you have legs that can take you four miles (or more).

And you have every freedom to use them to walk, hike, bike, run, or rollerblade.

So put on some socks and sunscreen, and go outside. Remember that life is probably mostly good, and no matter what’s going on in your life, that the sun’s out, and that you can be the badass lady shredding the gnar in purple roller blades.

Happy Saturday, and happy national ice cream sandwich day!

Celebrate today by giving a couple bucks to clean water, why doncha? Here’s the link: stayclassy.org/25reasons

Also: one more workweek until Outside Lands!

I have a confession to make.

I’ve got a bit of a Napoleon complex.

Yep - I know. Barely peeking over five feet, I’ve always been referred to as “cute.” To this day, people still pinch my cheeks (on my face, you pervert).

But cute doesn’t cut it. I hate being “cute” – it connotes a weakness I resent. I’m not weak, I am me.

OK, play the below while you read the rest of the post. Trust me, it’s added drama.

Today, I got a message from someone I cut out of my life. He sent me an adorable picture of a baby otter.

But you know what those adorable otters grow up to be?

“Necrophiliac, serial-killing fur monsters of the sea.”

“In one prior report on breeding-associated mortality, a tagged territorial male sea otter held a struggling female underwater until her body became limp and then copulated repeatedly with her carcass. Ten months later, this same male was observed with the...

“I’m just not as… calculated as you.”

That has been said to me more than a few times in different situations. Dates, interns, family members have all looked at my notebooks filled with pro/con lists with eyes filled with incredulity, sometimes tears.

It’s true - I’m an extremely deliberate person. Every decision is weighed carefully, against very specific guidelines. I order the steak, add fries and eat it.

But what happens when that sureness ebbs? When suddenly, the columns scribbled onto notebooks seem more fluid?

Embrace it. You are responsible for every thought, every decision and every relationship you generate, make and maintain. So do each with gusto, and with intention - but don’t be so rigid that it gives you white streaks. Although I will say, dyeing my white hairs pink is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

Don’t forget to consider the opposite of your habit – I...