As we step into the booze-fueled debachery that are the Holidays, I’m tempted to write you a cheesy post about being happy solo, wearing glittery Dries while hooking up with random strangers, cuffing it up with your tennis instructor, and generally having all the fun a human being can while consuming their weight in spiced eggnog. Except, you’ve heard it all before. And so, I propose that we take it one step further and start focusing on what is more beneficial to us in the long run:

Making space.

Read More

When it comes to the land where K is the only letter of the alphabet, I have a very firm stance: ignore and pray that it goes away.

The only problem is, it doesn’t seem to be going away anytime in the foreseeable future. In fact, the Kardashian clusterfuck seems to be growing at expedited speed, as though pumped with the same chemicals as its members’ individual body parts. Everywhere you turn, a new KK Klone is talking about her latest divorce, minor health issue, or other strenuous ordeal that was written into her life by the masterminds that are the show’s scriptwriters. I get the brilliant businesswomen part, the fact that their net worth may be higher than the government budget of Malawi, and that their Momager is probably going to be next to nominate herself as governor of California or VP of America. (The worst part is that this may actually work.) Nonetheless, I find these people to be the direct projection of the overall mass stupidity of this county and fail to see anything positive in their existence.

Read More

A few things to feel thankful for later tonight while nursing your food baby…

1. The Dbag that got away. The one you cried a river over, fully believing him to be yin to your yang, the Do to your Re, the stuffing to your turkey, the ginger beer to your Moscow Mule; the list of bad analogies goes on. Now that time has worked its magic and you see him for who he truly is, whether it’s an Unemployment Artist who would have made you pay full rent, an Eternal Bachelor who would have strung you along for years before trading you in for a younger version, or a Cross Bearer who would have made your life Lexapro – laden hell, it’s time to count your blessings and be grateful for dodging that bullet, sista!

Read More