Making the most of a year that didn’t give us much.
It is virtually impossible to put this entire year into words, to articulate the emotional logistics, to attempt to make sense of it all — but we’re certainly going to try, aren’t we? Words are how we relate, cope, endure, reflect, find the light in the darkest room. And, with distance no longer an option but a requirement, words are how I’ve felt the closest to others — loved ones and strangers alike. The most poetic thing about this fucked-up year is that we’ve all existed in the same ongoing nightmare; no matter what the future holds, we are bound by collective trauma, forever tied together by an extraordinarily long and confusing timeline. We have witnessed boundless loss and heartache, inadvertently forcing ourselves into unparalleled states of self-reflection (on all the things we did or did not do); we have watched time slip through our thoroughly washed hands and said so many quiet prayers for the next year to be anything but the same. …
No, it’s not #SponCon. We just, like, really love Pfizer’s products!
Hey, ladies! It’s me, your favorite quarantine queen, pandemic princess, frugal fashionista, merlot mommy, and 2020 self-titled influencer of the year! I just wanted to hop on Instagram Live real quick. I know you’ve all been asking (in the comments, in my DMs, via email, and some of you even wrote me letters handwritten by candlelight) about where I got the supersoft sweatpants I’ve been wearing all month.
Well, that’s not what we’re here to talk about.
We’ll be finding out what’s inside this large box in front of me — yes, the one right here with the adorable packaging that says “FRAGILE” in giant letters. …
Other year-end recaps are no MATCH for this one.
As we close out on a shitshow year, it is both fun and depressing to reflect on how we spent our time. I — like many who were single through a global pandemic (and long before) — used countless hours to swipe through dating apps, even though dating IRL was mostly off the table. Here’s what I imagine a combined usage might amount to in a year-end recap.
Top 5 dating apps you used to “meet” guys:
- Tinder
- Bumble
- UberEats
Top 5 types you were into:
- Guy who had a beard
- Guy wearing a Black Lives Matter shirt
- Guy who looked like he’d be into you
- Guy who painted a very clear picture of himself through a well-crafted bio, distinguishable pics, and a vibe that screamed “I’ll ghost you in record time!” …
Everything you didn’t need to know about #succeeding.
What is a LinkedIn influencer?
Above all, I am a thought leader. I have thoughts, and they lead me to extraordinary places. I’m an expert in my field. Which field? Any field that requires passion, strategy, experience, skills, motivation, and success. I’ve held jobs. I’ve done business. I connect with executives for sport. I apply for jobs for breakfast. I’m the founder & CEO of my entire life. I am the only one in the world who truly knows how to network.
What do you… influence?
Businesses. Businessmen. Business women. Anyone who has ever said the word “business.” I inspire job-havers and job-haters to be bold enough to make mistakes, as long as they turn those mistakes into SEO-optimized content that oozes inspiration and corporate buzzwords. …
The revealing, supplementary list to her Favorite Things.
- The red one
- The black silk one
- The leopard one (made from real leopard)
- The one Stedman gave her on their anniversary, which she framed and hung in Stedman’s room
- The one that says BE FRI (Gayle has the pair that says ST ENDS)
- The one with the Maya Angelou poem
- The monthly ones created to coincide with/match the covers of O Magazine
- The low-cut one she wears while tending to her avocado garden
- The one with “OWN” embroidered on the crack fabric
- The one that has First Black American Female Billionaire written in diamonds
- The super comfy one she wore for a questionable amount of days in a row when, like the rest of us, there was no reason to get out of…
This Is Us
He was more than just a fun distraction, but was it worth the leap?
A thing they don’t tell you about starting a relationship — of any caliber — in quarantine is that there is absolutely nowhere to put your feelings. They stay contained, like yourself, in a 500-square-foot studio apartment, until you reach a breaking point and decide it’s worth the risk to set them free. And putting your heart on the line during a pandemic? Well, that’s like taking a thousand risks at once. You ought to be prepared to protect all the vulnerable parts.
I met J in the most iconic of destinations: my Instagram DMs. I knew he existed long before he took the leap, however, because he’d been following me for years on Twitter, after reading a few of my McSweeney’s pieces. He was the best kind of follower — a “fan” who didn’t push boundaries, one who just quietly liked the wild, witty, weird words I posted on the internet, and nothing more. …
Don’t swipe left on this celebration for singles!
IT’S A BOY!
(Well, it’s a man — but you get the idea.)
Since the birth of gender reveal parties, these controversial celebrations have proven to be dangerous and superfluous, revealing very little beyond an ostentatious display of pink-or-blue chaos. This is why it’s time to ditch this neo-traditional event, and shift the attention to one that’s more impressive and innovative, and less harmful to both the environment and social constructs.
So, please mark your calendar for my first-ever Tinder reveal!
WHY:
Single, childless people are part of an ever-growing community who don’t get to be consistently celebrated and rewarded for love- and family-based milestones via endless baby showers, bridal baths, bachelor bashes, wedding parades, engagement ragers, gender reveal festivals, divorce fiestas, etc. …
But first, let me justify this selfie.
I’m feeling myself! ✨
Well, to be honest, I was feeling myself when I took this selfie three hours ago. But now? After a burrito bowl? Not so much. But earlier? Definitely. The way the soft, dreamy 4 p.m. light came through my window and begged me to me un-hunch my back, purse my lips, change my top, flip my hair, re-hunch my back, and ignore work emails so I could take 263 pictures and land The Chosen Shot is truly something to behold — and to be shared! I have no qualms about posting a sexy photo of myself online. None. …
Let’s talk about ‘sects, baby.
When he makes me feel loved:
He gives me butterflies.
When he doesn’t quite yet give me butterflies:
He gives me caterpillars.
When he’s trying to get in my pants:
He gives me ants.
When he just outright sucks:
He gives me mosquitos.
When he’s in the doghouse:
He gives me fleas.
When he’s bugging me in general:
He gives me flies.
When he likes something I put on the web:
He gives me spiders.
When he’s jumping to conclusions:
He gives me grasshoppers.
When he’s got morning wood:
He gives me termites.
When he makes me scratch my head:
He gives me lice.
When I’m buzzed and he sends a sweet text:
He gives me honey bees.
When I’m buzzed and messaging him on a dating app:
He gives me Bumble bees.
When he’s giving me butterflies, but I feel kind of weird about it:
He gives me moths.
When he upsets me in a way that makes me speak to the lord:
He gives me praying mantises.
When I’m getting played and it stings:
He gives me hornets.
When I get played again because I didn’t learn my lesson:
He gives me murder hornets.
When he mentions his white privilege:
He gives me WASPs.
When he’s ghosting me:
He gives me crickets.
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NO COVER for ladies — you don’t need a mask OR a bra!
“This bar has been my go-to spot during quarantine. The drinks are cheap, the staff is knowledgeable (about reality TV — not cocktails), and there’s never a line for the bathroom!”
“While the standard pour of wine is five or six ounces, at My Place, you can have any amount you’d like! For example, a bottle is 25.4 ounces, and if that’s what you want, they’ll find a way to fit it in a glass.”
“The coat check is a chair.”
“Happy hour starts at whatever hour you’re feeling happy! Or sad. Or anxious. …
