I’m excited to announce that I think I’ve officially become a “thankful” person.
I associate gratitude with weakness the same way that people associate peanut butter with jelly, so this is actually huge progress on my journey to becoming an Actual Feeling Human Being. Emotions are real! The world is turning!
Of course, I am still a cold robot, but sometimes life gets good, like a well-written episode of Mad Men, and you just gotta ride the wave until you get paranoid that something bad is going to happen at any second and kill your vibe. While you’re riding the wave, might as well say, “Hey, this is a good thing. I feel happy about this. Thanks, Universe, for this moment in time where everything is nice.”
Anyways, how can you not at least be a little bit thankful for your life when there are things that exist out there like pugs and Harry Styles and deep-dish pizza and Sex and The City re-runs that play while you run on the treadmill? Is there really anything more you can ask for? Aside from a frozen yogurt machine that dispenses directly into your mouth with no repercussions, of course.
I don’t even know how to elegantly articulate how much I love “Blank Space” and how much I need it in my life at all times. This is also my formal plea for Taylor Swift to bring her music back to Spotify. I thought, because I don’t use Spotify, I wouldn’t be affected by this drama, but when you can’t bump “Blank Space” at a party because it’s unavailable to be streamed, it ruins literally everything. I feel so strongly about this. Please bring Taylor Swift back to Spotify.
Here it is, everybody: the most perfectly executed bitch face of all time. I want to achieve this someday. I hope in the future, my face just naturally falls into this exact look.
“Both. Just say I’ve got an allergy to cheap Champagne. Tell them exactly that. I have acid reflux, and unless it’s really good bubbles, I’m not going to take that!” He shakes his head and laughs. “But please don’t sell that too well. Make sure they know it’s a joke. They’ll really think I’m an asshole.”
About a month ago, I made a spontaneous decision to travel from NYC to CHI via Megabus and surprise my family and friends for Thanksgiving. It was SO fun, but some of the most LOL-worthy moments occurred, surprisingly, while en route. It’s basically the travel nightmare that you would assume, but if you’re looking forward to something at the end of it, it isn’t as bad. An old Russian woman next to me got in a screaming match with the bus drivers, someone threw up within the first two hours, there was a dog on the bus, and at one rest stop, they were selling L. Ron Hubbard DVDs. Apparently, Scientology is huge in Ohio. The entire bus ride took nineteen hours, and when I finally got to my front door, no one in my family was even home, but at least I got frozen yogurt later that night and got to enjoy the well of joyful emotions that exist only in Costco stores the next day.
Per Emerson family tradition, we hit the mean streets of suburban Illinois at 3 AM on Black Friday to help the economy/get some bangin department store deals. We also were Danby Station’s first customers of the day at 6 AM, because we will do anything for food from the best restaurant in Glen Ellyn, IL. I was awake for a full 23 hours, 12 of which were spent shopping. I’m a survivor.
Since there’s nowhere to cook on campus/I only eat rabbit food, I spend at least 90% of my time blankly staring at delicious food on Pinterest, bookmarking it and then literally never cooking it ever. But I want to drown myself in this sweet corn, zucchini, and fresh mozzarella pizza.
It’s a stalemate to see who will cut their hair first and neither of us are caving.
“Eve then says that we should make this T-Swift-inspired class ‘a thing,’ but alas she will be in the Hamptons next week. I will be in suburbia for the holiday weekend eating Chinese takeout and wearing flannel pajama pants, but that is neither here nor there.”
My parents came to visit the second weekend of November and it was truly a delight. We got a round of Salty Pimps at the best ice cream place in the world, Big Gay Ice Cream Shop, and also met Bradley Cooper outside of his broadway show after seeing him perform. This is truly what it means to “live the dream.”
Selena Gomez’s monologue at the beginning of this song is also how I feel about Justin Bieber. I KNOW HIM.
Maybe if you live under a rock (aka don’t follow me on Twitter) you wouldn’t know that 1D has a new album out. BUT THEY DO AND IT’S PERFECT FROM START TO FINISH. Me and my journalistic companion Kiley Roache will be having a listening session in the coming days, but you should pre-game our analysis with a little “Girl Almighty”.
“I know a lot of people are probably so thrown by how serious we’re taking this boy band, but loving them is no different than obsessing over any other act we value for some arbitrary ideal of authenticity. There’s nothing more fun than loving something, and boy bands are one of the the only sets of artists that require you to love the whole package: from music to personalities to all the baggage they can muster.”
I think Harry Styles is calling me out via tattoo
Darling, I’m a nightmare dressed like a daydream.