HOW TO: ROCK THE PLANE

Alternately titled “Snakes (And Ladders) On A Plane: A Guide To Entertaining Yourself”.

Originally I thought that the flight from London to New York is six hours. Six hours? Totally doable. I’ll bring a book, a sleeping mask, and an adult diaper—and I’ll be good to go. Then I checked my ticket again. Flight departure: 14:35. Flight arrival: 17:45. For you plebeians, that means 2:35 pm and 5:45 pm.

Confusion.

It’s like a math problem:

Question: If the flight leaves at 2:35 and is six hours long, and the passenger is reading Tiger Beat and wearing an adult diaper, what time will he arrive in New York if the time difference is five hours?

Answer: 3:35 pm.

Realization. The flight is longer than six hours. It’s actually over eight hours—allegedly. I have yet to see the receipts, as Tumblr says, so it could still be shorter. Apparently we’re flying against the winds and that takes longer. I’m not a scientist. I don’t know the specifics. But regardless. Eight hours is much more of a commitment than six hours.

So with this new information presented to me, I made like a good Moleskine journal and planned. So here, without further ado, is the faultless, foolproof, you-need-to-do-this-otherwise-your-life-will-be-terrible How-To:

1). Wear something casual, but not horrifying:

I always make the mistake of taking “comfortable” to the extreme. I think, “Oh, I’m going to be sitting on a plane for multiple hours, let me pull out the dolphin onesie and a pair of clogs!” No. Please resist this urge. Because eventually, unless you are severely confused, you’ll be getting off that plane and into the real world.

I have whittled my outfit down to the necessities: A) Adidas track pants, to get that subtle promo and also an elastic waistband; B) Nikes, because I can do it, and also you’ll have to take your shoes off; C) Comfy tee, which usually is my Pugs Not Drugs tee, but I’m being ~crazy~ and switching to the t-shirt I made for Halloween (All My Dreams Are Dead); and D) a blanket scarf—this one is new, and my sisters will hate it, but I love blankets and scarves so why not?

2). Socks:

If you don’t bring a pair of goddamn socks onto the goddamn plane, you’re a f*cking idiot. They better be fuzzy and comfortable, because Lorde knows you’re gonna be taking off your shoes as soon as the tray tables go down, and we don’t want to have to wear our threadbare regular old socks. Treat yourself to luuuuuuuxury. Do yourself that one favor.

3). Entertainment (ha, more like “entertaintment” amiright?)

Plan for the trip like you’re going to have to entertain a rowdy, ADHD-riddled five-year-old, except that you’re actually just planning for yourself. I love having a wide array of things to do: read books, look on my phone, watch movies, listen to podcasts. Sometimes, and this is kinda so “millennial” of me, but I like to edit photos for later Instagram postage. It’s very relaxing, and something that doesn’t require data or WiFi.

I am super into podcasts, so I’ve downloaded a bunch to burn through: Chris Hardwick’s The Nerdist, and some of Joan Rivers’ In Bed With Joan even though RIP to the queen. I also want to buy Bianca Del Rio’s comedy special, but it’s on Vimeo, so I don’t know if that means I’ll need to have WiFi to watch it, which is no bueno. Something that doesn’t require WiFi is iTunes, so I think I might buy Tyler Oakley’s new documentary Snervous, because I feel like it’ll be more in the vein of his podcasts—which I love—than his videos—which I’m, like, ehh on.

4). Snacks:

Idk, maybe some nuts? Some berries. You do you. I’m not going to tell you how to do your life.

5). Sleeping Possibilities:

This could technically go in apparel, but fuckit. I always wear a beanie on flights because of two reasons: 1) I can put it on and lean my head against anything and it’s soft enough to act as a pillow, and 2) I can pull it down over my eyes like a knit condom and block out the entire world. However, if you don’t have a beanie, I would suggest getting a sleeping mask. It’s one of those “OMG so LA” things to have, but I love mine. It was a cheapie from CVS, but it works great and looks like a bra when you put it on your face. Plus it makes everything black blackout black, which is a total plus.

I’m super excited to go home but I kinda hate flying—I still don’t actually know how planes fly, and no one’s explanations have really made me believe them—and I hate being cramped in tiny spaces for long amounts of time. If you didn’t know, I’m 6’2”, which is horrible. Basically, for planes, anything over 5’5” and you might as well be a 1000+ lb elephant because it was not built for you.

I’ll sign off—just kidding, I’m typing off. Oh my god, I had to write an essay in my final today, and I don’t know if this happens to anyone else, but I always get ink blotches all over the side of my hand because I rest it on the paper. I’m so unfit even my hand gets tired from writing. Writing.

HAPPY HOLIDANNYS!

Holidannys

MISCELLANEOUS MONDAY: PACKING SUCKS

Okay, so news alert: packing sucks, I’m sweating like a whore in church, and I’m got a raging headache. I don’t know how anyone does this whole “moving from the country you moved to three months ago back to the country you left” thing, but that’s what I’m doing and I hate it.

In—like idk, two days? A day and half? I’m not great at math, but regardless—a certain, finite amount of time, I’ll be leaving England and going back to America, land of mouth-breathers and Dunkin-Donuts and LORDY LORDY I’M SO EXCITED. I’m excited to be the cool one again. In England I’m essentially Jan Brady, and goddamnit I want to be Marcia again.

I spent two hours of my day sitting on suitcases and trying to shove too many denim shirts into too little of a space, and I realized that American consumerism has consumed me and that we need to fight, Marx-style, against the machine! Lol no, I’m kidding. I just realized that I get a little shopping-crazy and decide to go on a total binge. Which we already knew.

But I think what I hate most about packing is the inbetweenness. You still have to have certain things out—like your toothbrush and your deodorant—and so you’re living in this sort of limbo. I don’t do well with limbo—the concept or the popular game. I like things to be clean and done and over, I hate lingering and half-steps. Give me a full-step.

And it makes me prematurely sad about leaving London. For the last three and a half, almost four months, this weird place has been my home and I’ll be sad to leave behind being an intrepid traveler, getting lost in Spanish Metros, eating sandwiches on a dock in Copenhagen, walking over tiny canals to hidden museums in Venice. I’ll miss being cool, and I’ll miss forcing myself so outside of my comfort zone that I can’t even see it anymore.

Because abroad for me was more than just being abroad. It really made me confront my anxiety. This entire trip was a huge experiment to see if I could be strong enough to override my anxiety and fear of new places. And I think I did it. I think I took a massive enough leap where I shocked the anxiety out of my body, and it’s just WTFing somewhere in the Atlantic.

And so I hate packing because it reminds me that, while excited and glad I am to be going back to my friends and my family and my babes, that this part of abroad growth is over, and that I’ll have to find other ways of growing and getting outside of my comfort zone. Abroad was the easiest and most obvious way, but there are others, and I’ll find them.

Omg, did I just get so fucking deep in a rant against packing? I’m so deep. It’s insane. I’m Mariana’s Trench—the natural location, not the band. Although it’s a pretty good band.

Omg, like goodnight. I’m so tired and I “have” a “final” tomorrow, in which I have to write multiple “in-class essays.” So weird. Must be code for something.

HAPPY HOLIDANNYS!

Celebrity Sunday, Holidannys

CELEBRITY SUNDAY: SAINT, SELENA, SNL, AND HILLARY

This week has been chockfull of exciting celebrity news! News sounds a lot like “nudes,” doesn’t it? And also “cruise.” Interesting. I hope you enjoy the second installment of “Celebrity Sunday!” Now dive in!

Starting off, we’ve got:

1). Selena Gomez and Niall Horan were apparently kissing at Jenna Dewan-Tatum’s birthday party:

This one is alternatively titled “Selena Gomez just became Number 1 on my hit list.” Okay, so Selena has since denied that anything is going on between her and the only non-tattooed member of One Direction, the blonde Irish hunk Niall Horan. They were seen having dinner together last month, and apparently they were getting the PDA on at the birthday party. But now, in an interview with Entertainment Tonight at Billboard’s 10^th Annual Women in Music event in New York City, the 23-year-old former witch said that is a definite PD-nay. I guess I should be happy that my Irish prince isn’t with Selena Gomez, but I’m also offended that she would be in such deep de-Niall about how hot he is.

2). SAINT WEST:

If I literally hear another person say “Uh, Kim and Kanye think they’re gods, so of course they named their kid Saint,” I will flip a shit. Obviously Kim and Kanye don’t think like that, because no one other than Kim Davis thinks like that, and can we just appreciate the name for the name? It’s a cute name, and as long as they don’t pronounce it as “san”—the French way—I’ll be fine. Also it’s probably much more a reference to Saint-Laurent and high fashion in general. Bottom line, it’s a chic name, and truly, what were we expecting? That they would name their kid “Ricky?” Like, we all thought it would be South or Easton. And if you can’t handle him at his “South,” you don’t deserve him at his “Saint.”

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3). I Am Jazz is renewed for a second season:

I Am Jazz, the TLC show following the life of Jazz Jennings, a transgender teenager, got renewed for a second season. Okay, why is this important? Omg I’m so glad you asked. It’s important because any amount of positive representation of the transgender community is massively, hugely, sensationally important. Especially when shows like I Am Jazz shine a light on a different story. Obviously I Am Cait is amazing, but that portrays a very narrow focus on an adult, white, privileged, traditionally beautiful transgender woman. So whenever representation falls upon different people, it’s a positive. Because Caitlyn Jenner, while she is currently the most prominent transgender person on the screen right now, is not the only. Also check out Benton Sorensen and Kat Blaque if you’re interested in other representations of trans youth!

4). The Saturday Night Live Alien Abduction skit:

So I think this might technically have been last week, but we all know that no one actually watches SNL on the day; we all just see various clips throughout the week on Facebook. And oftentimes—and I’m by no means a “comedy writer” so take my opinion with a grain of salt—SNL kind of disappoints me. But I love when the actors break while they’re doing a skit, and this just took the cake. Also I think the idea of aliens doing some serious titty-bouncing is hilarious and very likely. Do you believe in aliens? Comment down below!

5). Kris Jenner is trying to trademark #proudmama:

Kris Jenner is a literal g0ddess but also crazy, so this doesn’t surprise me. The 60-year-old Yzma lookalike uses #proudmama on her Instagram regularly, and is trying to trademark it for “marketing purposes.” In May 2015, she also filed a legal bid to trademark “momager.” I can understand the “momager” thing, but “proud mama” just seems like a stretch. But she is an incredibly shrewd businesswoman, so maybe she’s just giggling/cackling at all this promo all the way to the bank in her Yeezy sneakers.

6). Hillary Clinton says that Donald Trump is no longer funny:

The future President of the United States appeared on Late Night With Seth Meyers and said that she is no longer amused by Donald Trump. And everyone in the entire world answers with a resounding, “Yeah, same. Duh.” Before his inflammatory comments about barring Muslims from entering the US, he was an “equal-opportunity insulter.” But his comments are dangerous now, Hillary says, because it gives ammunition to terrorists for spreading their propaganda. Isolating and alienating Muslim-Americans only perpetuates this dumb idea that they can’t be trusted. And then it becomes this downward spiral. The interview also came a few days after Arianna Huffington wrote that they would no longer be covering Trump in the “Entertainment” section. They refused to recognize the legitimacy of his candidacy, but he is no longer funny. “We are no longer entertained.”

7). The trailer for Tarzan came out:

Alexander Skarsgard is so hot, and I’m going to be so real, that’s the only reason this movie A) appears on my Celebrity Sunday list, B) is relevant, and C) was even made. Like, I don’t know how necessary a Tarzan movie was. But seeing Alexander Skarsgard shirtless with abs ripping through the screen is totally necessary.

8). Rihanna raises over $3 million at the Diamond Ball 2015—and also looks amazing in Dior:

Rihanna hosted her second annual Diamond Ball for her Clara Lionel foundation. She raised over $3 million to “improve the quality of life for communities globally in areas of health, education, arts, and culture.” Kylie Jenner attended the Ball, as did Will and Jada Smith, and Lionel Richie. Most importantly, she looks amazing in a diaphanous cream silk dress and matching coat by Dior.

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9). Hillary Clinton is going to guest-star on Broad City:

This is very important because three of my favorite people are going to be in the same space together. The future President of the United States will appear in the upcoming third season of the Comedy Central hit. It isn’t known yet how/what capacity Hillary will feature in the Amy Poehler-produced show, but it’s obviously going to be amazing, yasqueen? The trio posted a pic on Twitter, collectively shattering my pelvis and the Internet.

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10). The trailer for Chelsea Handler’s new Netflix series is out:

Everyone’s favorite late-night comedian and the “coslopus” queen, Chelsea Handler, has a new Netflix show. The four-part docuseries is entitled Chelsea Does and will follow Chelsea as she dives into the respective worlds of marriage, Silicon Valley, racism, and drugs. Originally it was thought that Handler, after leaving her E! talk show to partner with Netflix, was going to produce a streaming, current show. However, it looks like that has morphed into the docuseries. The series will drop in January. I’m really excited about this show because Chelsea has often, and loudly, talked about how she doesn’t really enjoy dissecting celebrity culture. And as a self-proclaimed pop culture journalist, I can totally relate to how dangerous it can be to fall into that honey trap. This series follows Chelsea as she dissects and discusses actual, thoughtful, real issues, while maintaining her humor and psychosis.

I’m going to put Celebrity Sunday to bed, because this bitch is a lot to handle. But don’t worry, we’ll be back next week. I mean, I’ll be back tomorrow. But the duo—me and the amorphous (omg, that doesn’t mean “fat!” Stop, CS! Don’t be crazy!) Celebrity Sunday—are going to go underground, do our research, and reemerge as stunning Dior butterflies this time next week!

HAPPY HOLIDANNYS!

Holidannys

SEASONAL SATURDAYS: TOP TEN THINGS I’VE DONE TO GET INTO THE HOLIDAY SPIRIT

Number One: sacrifice a pure-white goat on a mahogany altar to the Dark Lord. Just kidding! But, I have to say, what an introduction!

But, actually:

1). Obviously I made my Christmas playlist, but I’ve whored that thing out so much that I’m not even going to link it anymore. We all know I have one—let’s move on. But Sebastien told me about the “Merry Christmas: Jazz” Spotify playlist. I don’t know why I never really considered a jazz Christmas, but it’s really good and feels very Frank Sinatra-y and pulls to mind images of crackling fires and smooth eggnog. Even though eggnog is kind of gnarly; and not in the good, Californian way.

2). Watching Home Alone really sealed the deal for me, Christmas-movie-wise. I think it’s because I’ve never actually sat down and watched the full thing all the way through. Probably like most people, I’ve caught glimpses and bits from the ABC Family “25 Days of Christmas.” But actually sitting down, watching Home Alone and drinking hot cocoa made me A) feel sad that Macauley Culkin is kinda cracked out now, B) wonder what he and Mila Kunis used to talk about, and C) get that cozy, “It’s Christmas” feeling. I love ABC Family’s Christmas traditions, and since I’m not currently in America at the moment, I’ve missed out a little on the Norman Rockwell holiday overload. So yeah, watch Home Alone. Also wonder why Catherine O’Hara didn’t just sock that kid in the face. Set him straight.

3). On Friday—yesterday, I suppose—I went with Jenna to St. Paul’s Cathedral. We wandered amongst the sepulchral beauty—and it really is beautiful. I think Westminster Abbey is stunning, but St. Paul’s has this amazing grandeur that I think I prefer. Anyway, after climbing to the top of the dome, taking a few selfies, and wheezing our way down the stairs, we got back to the main floor and stumbled onto a Christmas choir. They were amazing, and their voices melded together and echoed against the dome. It was just a practice, so they were kind of #donewithit but I wish I was a good singer, so I find actual good singers fascinating. Plus, the Christmas trees on either side of the altar were decked out in fairy lights, and the glowiness of the whole moment made me feel warm and toasty and Norman Rockwell-y.

4). Watch holiday episodes of TV shows. Okay, so I’ll be honest—I overloaded myself on the Christmas movies. Also, I generally don’t watch movies. I know that every cinema nerd is gasping right now, but I don’t have the attention span. I don’t like sitting down and being expected to sit down for longer than an hour. However, I will be watching Mockingjay Part 2 when I get back. So to avoid the Christmas marathons, I decided to watch holiday episodes of my favorite TV shows. My current pleasures are 30 Rock and Parks & Recreation. I’m convinced that 30 Rock is the only show—ever—to incorporate blackface into a holiday episode and have it not be really weird. And I wish I could get Leslie Knope as a Christmas present because she’s amazing, and those holiday episodes are killer.

5). Sweaters. Ironically—or not, ironically?—I sweat a lot, so I don’t generally just wear sweaters. I put a button-down underneath, to create some sort of levy against the hurricanic body moisture. But the other day, I wore this really cute camel sweater, and earlier in the week, I finally wore the chunky, off-white sweater I bought in the Aran Islands. And wearing sweaters and being all snuggly makes you feel like a glamorous ski-bunny.

6). So I fucking detest nutmeg. I’m generally not a huge spice person, so Marco Polo would have totally hated me. So I don’t often indulge in holiday drinks at Starbucks. I’ll get a Pumpkin Spice Latte because—hello—white, and I like Peppermint Mochas, but—and I’m not trying to start drama—England doesn’t really do Peppermint Mochas. They do, like, “toffee” and other freaky flavors. But I’m literally not trying to start any fights. I just find it a little aggressive. So when I go to Starbucks to get a coffee—a venti caffe latte, aka hot milk—I put a little blend of chocolate-cinnamon powder. I know that cinnamon isn’t a super Christmas-y spice—is it more for Thanksgiving?—but it makes me feel nice.

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7). I swear, I was in a street market a week ago, and they were selling Christmas trees, and I lowkey might have sniffed the branches like a cocaine addict snorts a line of that sweet white gold—I don’t know drug references. I was discussing this with a friend—the real versus fake debate—and one of the reasons I love real Christmas trees is the smell. I hate the pine needles detritus, and I think fake Christmas trees in unrealistic shades of gold, pink, and blue are chic in a “Beverly Hills plastic surgery” kind of way. But you can’t replace that authentic pine tree smell, the one that fills the entire house.

8). Looked at cards of pugs in Christmas hats. Why isn’t this a thing year-round? Is it because I can’t be trusted to be productive if I know that, at any given moment during the entire year, that a pug might be wearing a little elf hat? Because I get that. But I love when animals get dressed up for the holidays. It brings me such joy.

9). Change all of my social media accounts to holiday-themed goodness. This is so “millennial” of me, but I secretly love it and it’s actually kind of the most fun thing ever. Scrolling through Tumblr looking for that perfect, hilarious Christmas photo to put as the header of your Facebook. Thinking of ways to incorporate “Santa Claus” or the names of his reindeer into your Twitter handle. It takes a little bit of effort, which I’m sure my parents would say could be going towards “working on my resume” or “finding an internship” so I don’t “die on the streets,” but I want to go into pop culture and social media, so this is basically me beefing up my credentials. That’s what I’ll tell myself when I’m homeless. I did a really good job about changing my accounts for the various changes in the seasons, and I’ll be frank, I’m worried for January. Once Christmas is over, there aren’t really a lot of good, juicy holidays to sink into. Valentine’s Day is depressing, St. Patrick’s Day makes me want to punch non-Irish people, and no one takes Arbor Day seriously anymore. So I’ll enjoy the good seasonal social media while it lasts.

10). This last one is weird-ish (?) and I’m not doing that thing where I say that I’m so quirky and you can’t possibly relate. I really love keeping the window open when it’s chilly. In England—I live in England; it’s, like, whatever. I mean, I’m leaving in four days, so I’m milking it while I can—it’s chilly but not frigid, so keeping the window open gives the room that fresh, crisp wintry air. Nothing makes me feel more Christmasy than snuggling up with fuzzy socks and a sweatshirt and watching a movie while a little frosty breeze gives my cheeks some nips. This is something that can’t really be done for that long, so I’m enjoying it while it lasts, because A) I think my roommate is about to kill me for it, and B) eventually it stops being “snuggly” cold and start being “Cut open the tauntaun” cold.

What are your favorite ways to get into the spirit? Don’t comment or anything. Just say it aloud to yourself. I’ll know if you don’t, so you better do it. Is there a particular Christmas movie you always watch? I find that you can tell a lot about people from the Christmas movies they watch. There are some people who are serial monogamists and only watch certain ones, and there are others who settle down in front of the TV and marathon whatever’s on. I’m not sure which category I fall into. But that’s so binary of me.

May your cheeks be rosy, your hearts full of joy, your hands full of candy, and your mouth full of liquor!

HAPPY HOLIDANNYS!

Holidannys

FASHION FRIDAY: I LOOKED LIKE A DENIM STRING BEAN

I hop-jiggle into a pair of stone-grey skinny overalls, unaware that this will be one of the worst decisions I will have made in my short, twenty years. Worse than loving Nickleback for those two weeks in freshman year of high school. Worse than drunk-texting that boy—still sorry about that. Worse than having that third slice of chocolate cake.

I snap the buckles on the shoulder straps and look in the mirror. Without the mental separation of a shirt and trousers, my body has become one long denim string bean. The bib narrows as it climbs up my torso, giving the illusion that my hips are the widest part of my body. All in all, I look like an overgrown toddler with a moose-knuckle.

Fuck my goddamn life. This might be a small thing, but I just want a pair of cool overalls to throw over a chunky-knit sweater, but my body rejects it with fashion antibodies.

I unfurl myself from the overalls, breaking free like a moth out of a chrysalis. The pantless, slightly panting—I’m not fit—reflection of me in the blackened mirror of the Zara changing room has a dangerous glint in his eye. It’s one that I know well.

I used to shop so much, and so badly. Like, it was tragic. It’s like that quote from Batman where the butler says, “Some men just want to see the world burn.” And I know that seems like a random quote, but please hop off my jock for a second. What I mean is that sometimes the end justifies the mean, and sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. If I was spending a shit ton of money and getting amazing stuff, then it might be excusable. But I was literally doing the sartorial equivalent of burning villages just for kicks, by running through my meager supply of money to get graphic sweaters and patterned socks.

I haven’t really shopped—like major overhaul shopping—in a few years, because in freshman year I blew through $1500 in a semester by buying horrifying clothing. It was not my best moment. It slightly trumps me being a jean lima bean.

And for having a large supply of clothing, I still somehow manage to rotate through the same six flannels and alternate between my one—but now two!—pair of jeans and my one brown pair of chinos, since I got too fat for my gray chinos. That’s a chi-no-no. Also, I used to dress like the crack-whore version of Ronald McDonald, and now I favor earth tones and simple patterns, so a lot of my clothing is irrelevant.

I got an extremely nice, extremely undeserved gift card from my boss at the end of my internship for Zara—which is the upscale sister who always has the exact sweater you’ve been trying to find for six months—and I wept inside. So I—along with my friend Jenna—made a total shopping day out of it. We stopped at Liberty—a classy department store with a Tudor finish and is slightly too good for me to feel comfortable in—and got Christmas ornaments.

Then, high on the dream, I went to Primark and got Christmas sweaters. at first, I was going to get this red sweater with Santa’s beard in silky white fur on the front, but it made me look thick and not in a good way. Thick is my favorite new way to say “fat” because it’s usually chicer than “fat” but still has that chunky phonetic aesthetic. So after realizing I hadn’t gained ten pounds in two hours, I decided that sweater wasn’t for me, and then it was just the question of which singing jumper to purchase.

After we went to Zara and at first I tried on the overalls—which overall were a mistake—and then I tried on these really cute moto jeans and I bought them, which ups my number of jeans to two. I used to have a lot, but I got fatter and taller and also bored so I cut a bunch of them into jorts. And I also got a blanket scarf, which at first I was like,

Me: Oh, hon. Hon. Hon.

I: What? It’s kind of chic. I’ll look thin.

Me: You’ll look like an Olsen.

I: Why is that a bad thing?

Me: Hon.

I: Babe. Babe, stop.

Me: You’re acting like Paris Hilton right now, and I can’t deal.

I: You’re such a bitch. You’re such a Nicole Richie.

Me: Fine. Get the scarf. Muzzle yourself.

I don’t have the healthiest self-dialogue, but Lorde knows who does! So I got the blanket scarf, which is gay and at first I was like “Oh that’s too gay” and then I realized that I was accidentally stepping on Internalized Homophobia’s toe and I moved off and realized that I liked dudes in a non-bro—but actually tbh—way and that’s the definition of “gay” so I bought the scarf and I haven’t looked back since.

Walking back with my hands full of swinging bags, I rationalized my spending. “I, like, haven’t spent anything on myself for so long. I’ve been really good with my money,” and went on like until I realized Jenna wasn’t even listening and I was just talking to my reflection in the tube window.

The problem with a relapse into shopping is that it usually takes a few weeks to exorcise the demon back into the ether. So, the next week, I “decided” to just have a “browse” through Oxford Street. It started with a trip to Topshop, and that trip to Topshop ended with me—panicked, anxious and near freakout—as I wandered amongst the thousand-thousand reflections and crop tops because I was lost and couldn’t find the exit. After realizing that the reason I couldn’t find the ground floor exit was because I was belowground in the basement level, I cleansed my chakra and got on the escalator and bolted out of Topshop with a fire under my ass.

I was about to pop down the stairs to the tube when the glimmering lights of that plasticky bitch H&M called their siren song out to me. I meandered amongst the racks of clothing before trying on a nebby-black-and-white sweater and a mohair-y gray sweater. The gray sweater looks like a bear-pelt condom onto me, and I make it a general rule not to look like an actual human leg, so I axed that sweater. The other one was cute and very not “me” but in a good way, so the small monster curled in the crook of my collarbone, using my credit card as a nail filer, purred, “Omg, babe, get that; that’s so cute.”

“You think?” I looked over my shoulder, practicing my “affable, cute boy” non-teeth smiles—I fucking despise teeth smiles—and flicked my hair into more a swoop and less of a swish.

“Yes,” it confirmed. “So glam.”

“It’s £20,” I’m still unsure. “That’s a lot of experience.”

The monster scrapes my credit card against its perfectly manicured—in a soft pearl-grey shellack—hands and says those damning words: “It’s an experience.”

“Omg, you’re so right. I totally need something to remember London by”—as if, somehow, the entire city of London will escape both my memory and the human race’s collective memory—“and I, like, never spend money on myself.”

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Twenty minutes later, I’m holding the plastic bag containing the last dregs of the monster mingling with that nebby sweater. It’s fucking cute, but still. I roll my shoulders as I feel the demon being exorcised from me. It briefly reappears when I’m trying to convince someone to convince me that I need another Christmas sweater, but the bait isn’t bitten and I don’t buy the sweater.

Still I lack the nail strength and willpower to do some hardcore thrift-store digging, I’ll probably be poor and a slave to the high-and-mighty fashion brands—I mean, the medium-and-mighty fashion brands—which is fine. I’ll make do. Like I said, I literally wear maybe six variations on the same outfits, and that’s year-round.

But, like, tell me about your favorite Christmas sweaters! On me. Not in general. On me.

Also I officially have as many Christmas sweaters as I have AP credits on my transcript. They’re not technically officially related, but I feel like it’s very representative of the State of my Union.

HAPPY HOLIDANNYS!

Holidannys

THOUGHTFUL THURSDAY: BUYING CHRISTMAS PRESENTS

The Kardashian-Jenner sisters released their holiday gift guides for this Christmas, and as per usual, the items on their lists are reasonably priced, spare necessities. The lists contained a healthy amount of product placement—Khloé’s book was on the list, as were a $1000 duffel bag from Kanye’s Adidas line and Rob’s socks from his Arthur George line. But it reminded me that I need to buy Christmas presents. It also reminded me that I’m terrible at buying Christmas presents.

I have good intentions—I don’t know who deliberately going into the present-buying process with bad intentions, unless you have your nemesis as your Secret Santa, which begets other questions such as “What are you going to get him?” and “Why are you in a friend circle with a nemesis?” and “Was there a cash limit?”—but I’m just not good at buying presents. I can’t do that, “Get them something they want, but wouldn’t buy for themselves” rule. I do the “I want to get this for them because it’s what I would want” rule, which ends with me just buying a present I want and leaving clawmarks on the wrapping paper when I give it to the recipient.

Usually—to be frank—I don’t buy Christmas presents. I usually just chip in on a bigger gift, or bully someone into helping me. But this year, partially because I got into the holiday season so early, I actually want to get presents for people. But it’s so difficult to put yourself in the mindset of someone else, and separate your wants for them from their actual wants. It seems like it’s very selfless, and I’m very selfish.

Also, I find it interesting the whole process of picking out your own presents. When I was a kid, I would give detailed descriptions of what kinds of various thermal shirts I wanted that year, or which particular shade of khakis I needed. Now, I just send links. Is that shady to just send links of what I want? Should I leave more mystery? I feel like giving a plethora of options via link is nice, because it takes the pressure off, and also allows the giver to get you something you’re guaranteed to like, and it’s not as impersonal as a gift card.

What was on your Christmas list for this holiday season? Are you one of those people who just wants “quality time” with their family? Or even worse, you “don’t want presents?” That’s a lie. We all know that that’s a lie. Everyone wants something; even if it’s a bobble-head. One year, I got a set of dinosaur toys. But I was, like, twelve, so it’s very unclear as to what my parents though I would do with those dinosaur toys.

And Christmas is when I got an iPod Nano, which was the beginning of me accidentally putting my sister’s music on my music library. And then I upgraded to the iPod Classic, which I just used as a miniature TV and purchased approximately 90% of the episodes of The Office.

Omg, this has been not amazing, but I promise I’ll actually put in effort for my posts. I’m going to say, “It’s just hard because it’s finals week and I’m trying to eke out the rest of my London experience,” but we all know it’s because I was watching holiday episodes of 30 Rock and took a three-hour-long nap. So let’s not lie to each other. Let’s not do this.

HAPPY HOLIDANNYS!

Holidannys

WTF WEDNESDAY: TWO ABREAST

This is going to be a quickie, so buckle up. I have a major WTF with people who walk side-by-side on the sidewalk.

WTF is up with that? I know that you desperately need to talk to your friend, but I’m dogging behind you like a goddamn specter or a guy in a trench coat, trying to get around you. Like, I walk two abreast at times, but I like to think that I have enough common sense to huddle close. Also, is it just me, or is it always the slowest people who decide to walk side-by-side?

I walk extremely fast, and I drag my companions along with me, so I can get away with walking side-by-side. You, meandering along like a warm summer breeze, cannot get away with it.

And on a similar note, WTF is up with people who stand in front of empty train seats, but don’t sit down? I was on the tube this morning and this guy was standing, facing the window, right in front of a seat. Am I supposed to tap you on the shoulder and ask for permission? Or am I supposed to slide in between you and the seat like a manila folder?

As you can tell, I’m a little short on ideas and time. It’s my last week in London, and I’m wringing every experience out of this proverbial wet towel. Today I went to the Sky Garden on the top of 20 Fenchurch Street—check out my snapchat (dannytheunicorn) or just Google it maybe? Like live in the 21^st century? Get out of the Stone Age?—and then spent a small fortune on some traditional afternoon tea. My thoughts on salmon sandwiches—weird, tastes kind of like it’s not salmon, and I felt like a prince eating it. But maybe a disowned prince. Or Prince, the singer. Unconfirmed at this point.

I got my photo taken at Kings Cross the other day, on Platform 9 and ¾ and it was completely epic. I went by myself, despite my best attempts at finding a companion, and asked the group of Australian teen dancers behind me to talk my picture. The only boy, who might’ve been gay but also might’ve just been Australian, took my photo and I told him that I was going to work my angles. It ended up as a passable Instagram, once it went through rigorous filters.

And I suppose my biggest WTF is “WTF, this semester is almost over?” This semester has stretched over the course of several lifetimes. I’ve visited countries in these lifetimes; I’ve wandered around one of the oldest cities in the world. And I’m so happy to be going back to New York and America and Christmas and Dunkin Donuts, but I can’t help WTF a little.

As we sat in the Sky Garden of 20 Fenchurch, 35 floors in the air and sipping on prosecco, two friends and I talked about this study-abroad. And I think it’s weird and wonderful and sad and happy that we’ve become independent, savvy, International Nasty Girls. And as I’ve decided already: once an International Nasty Girl, always an International Nasty Girl. That never leaves you.

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Okay, I’m off to a staff holiday party and I’m going to actually comb my hair for it! By the time you see this, I’ll already be there, because this is going up later, through the magic of scheduling. I hope you’re all having a nice day, and that you think I’m hot.

HAPPY HOLIDANNYS!

Holidannys

HOW TO: HAVE THE PERFECT KRISMAS—A POP CULTURE HOLIDAY PARTY

If you know me literally at all, you know that I am heavily invested in pop culture. I would like to make discussing and dissecting it into a career, but for now it’s just an obsession. But, truly, I feel like everyone who has a career first had it as an unhealthy obsession. If Paula Deen didn’t have a TV show, she would just be a racist woman with hair full of secrets and an unhealthy addiction to butter.

But if you, like me, are into pop culture in any way, then you’ll be grateful for this post—how to make the perfect pop culture holiday party!

HERE WE GO:

1). Branding:

When sending out your cards, you’ll have to have a name for your party. If you’re Jewish, might I suggest “Hanuchaka Khan?” If you celebrate Kwanzaa, maybe a “Michelle Kwanzaa” party? And for my Christmas homies, there is literally no other option than “Krismas!”

If your guests are “confused” or “don’t think that those puns are very funny, Danny,” don’t be discouraged. These responses simply allow you to rescind certain invitations and never invite those people to your home again.

2). Attire:

Because we’re enveloped by the machine—oh, play Florence + the Machine!—it’s basically a mandate that everyone wears an ugly Christmas sweater. But wouldn’t be hilarious if it was just pictures of Kim Kardashian ugly-crying?? Or a reindeer! So cute. Extra points go to the person who incorporates mistletoe in the ~imaginative~ way.

A lot of Christmas jumpers nowadays have music ingrained into the design in some way, but if you’re poor like me and can’t afford to reinvent the wheel, don’t worry. Sew on some store-bought Jingle Adeles to the cuffs and torso of your sweater. Every time you move, you’ll create your own best-selling single!

3). Locale:

I don’t care where you actually are, if you’re not calling the location of your party “Amy North Poehler,” then you’re doing something wrong. In your yard, please scatter large amounts of Selena Snowmez, topped with a careful sprinkling of Khloe Kardashing Through The Snow. To create a cozy ambience, put in Liam Frosted Window Paynes. Backlit with soft candles, this holiday must-have will turn any party from a zero into a Big Hero Six.

4). Décor:

Hanging on the tips of your Chris Pine Tree should be delicious Katy Canes. These festive red-and-white striped sweets can be taken off the branches and used to stir hot cocoa. Create Wreath Witherspoons—I didn’t think of this. I give full credit to The Mindy Project; I just had to mention it—with your Holly Berry clusters and hang on your front door.

If you’re celebrating Krismas, feel free to put SAINT WEST as the lil baby Yeezus in your manger. If you’re Jewish, please do the same. Actually, make Saint an integral part of all holiday décor. I don’t know why I like writing his name in all-capitals, but it’s a thing that I’ve been doing. Another thing I’ve been doing: commenting “SAINT WEST” on my friends’ Facebook walls and photos. No rhyme or reason. It’s very Taylurking of me.

5). Music:

My Christmas 2015 Spotify holiday playlist of course!

6). Food & Drink:

Mulled Miley Cider warms me right down to my bones. It’s a perfect holiday treat, and so easy to make! Pour a full gallon of apple cider into a pot or crock—or Croc—and bring it to a medium-simmer. Stir with cinnamon sticks or orange peels and spike with bourbon. Serve in a festive holiday mug.

Since it’s a holiday party, you don’t want people getting too full before the big meal. I would suggest simple Snack Efrons and Nick Jonappetizers to tide your guests over. These simple amuse-bouches can be made in advance. Just pop into the oven when you’re ready! And for dinner, get ready to cut into your delicious Jon Glazed Hamm! Covered in a shell of brown sugar and soft and succulent on the inside, it’s always a hit!

7). Games:

Am I so lame that the first party game I thought of was “Pin the Tail On The Don Quixote”? Or is that very literature-chic? For my Hebros, why don’t you spin the Dr. Dreidel? Either way, I think I might be punned out, so just play Scrabble or something. I don’t know. Figure something out. I can’t plan out your entire holiday party for you.

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There you have it, the perfect pop culture holiday party! This is totally something I would do with my friends, if they would just lift that darn restraining order! Seriously, guys! It’s so hard to meal-prep if I can’t come within 500 feet of y’all! It’s like, how are you gonna pass the gravy! You’re crazy—I love it.

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But I actually do have friends and I don’t have any priors. So I might actually try to throw a Krismas party with my friends. but I feel like that might alienate them. Already I’m on tenterhooks with most of my social circle, because I’m very pro-“Saint West” and people are very much offended by it.

But I guess preaching the truth is polarizing. I know another guy who divided people through his preachings. Omg, I’m literally going to Hell now—I’m so sorry Jesus. I hope that you follow this How-To to a T because it will guarantee a perfect holiday party!

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P.S. Honorable mentions go out to the people who helped make this blog post possible: my co-worker/friend Amanda, who was stunned by Saint and my great ability for punning; Charlie, for thinking up Dr. Dreidel because you’re a giant Jew; Marco, my literal angel, who helped me brainstorm great puns and is personally responsible for Amy North Poehler, amongst others; Mitchell, my babz, for thinking up Holly Berry; my live-in child-ward Sebastien for mixing a great gin-and-tonic and getting so tipsy he’s asleep rn; my sisters for discussing pop culture w me, even if one of them had the wrong reaction (Margot).

Love y’all!

HAPPY HOLIDANNYS!

Holidannys

MISCELLANEOUS MONDAY: AN ANTHROPOLOGICAL APPROACH TO BEAUTY

There’s a girl at my work that looks like the cover of a Sports Illustrated, all tanned skin and blonde hair thrown up into a messy topknot, the kind that makes girls want to kill themselves over. She was sitting and talking to my coworker, two seats away from me. She didn’t look at me, or even talk to me, but I felt a creeping blush burn across my cheeks. When she left, and my face paled, I looked at another coworker and said, “She’s so hot that even I’m uncomfortable.”

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She was a 10.

There’s a boy who lives on my floor who looks like the kind of boy Lizzie McGuire would fall in love with, 2005-surfer-boy-chic, and whenever I talk to him, I become this macho bro version of myself.

He was a 10.

What is it about objective attractiveness that makes me melt? I’m not attracted to either of these people—actually, their 10-ness is what makes me distinctly un-attracted to them. I’m totally lying; I just know how many standard deviations of attractiveness I’m allowed to move in either direction, and they’re outliers. Also they’re both straight, and I’ve had approximately two Tweets worth of conversation with either of them.

I have a fascination with extremely attractive people. It’s not sexual; it’s scientific. Consider me an anthropologist. Even if we aren’t attracted to them, we treat beautiful people in a certain way. We treat them as if they’re rarified. We want to get into their good graces. It’s instinctive; it’s like the privilege of getting to talk to the most popular kid when you were in sixth grade.

I recently attempted/did ask out someone. He’s the kind of attractive where you rubberneck and go, “Wait, really?” And when asked what I liked about him, I would say, “Um, he’s cute, I guess, and nice.” I’m lying when I give that answer. I’m bamboozled by his attractiveness. I have no idea if he’s nice. He could be sacrificing baby goats and wearing their skins as a cape, and all I would do is tilt my head into my palm and go, “Oh that’s so cool.”

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I’m so fake, but so are you. Let’s not pretend that we don’t all do this.

But I imagine that, as amazing as it must be, it must also be incredibly isolating being wanted for only your looks. In a recent Rolling Stone article, Adele said, “But sometimes I’m curious to know if I would have been as successful if I wasn’t plus-size. I think I remind everyone of themselves. Not saying everyone is my size, but it’s relatable because I’m not perfect, and I think a lot of people are portrayed as perfect, unreachable, and untouchable.”

And the idea of success being rooted partially in appearance pervades our world. Would pop stars be as successful if they weren’t commercially attractive, ready for consumption and palatable to the general public? Surely there are lots of people out there who are good singers. But are they fuckable?

There is a YouTube couple that I watch occasionally. Mark Miller and his boyfriend Ethan Hethcote are Indiana-bred, all-American golden boys. Mark looks like an ad for Men’s Health and Ethan has that amiable, boy-next-door hotness. Their videos are cute and silly and fluffy, but their subscriber count, half a million on Mark’s and a quarter of a million on Ethan’s, betray the underlying impetus. They’re hot, and they’re traditional paragons of masculinity, and we can’t stop watching. It’s why I’m subscribed. It’s why I click on their videos. But it’s also why I tend to skip over them with a clench in my stomach. Because I know deep down that I’m more interested in their faces than their voices. And I hate that I’m like that.

I was going to start out this blog by saying, “I don’t trust anyone who didn’t have bad acne, some sort of tooth issue, or a little bit of fat.” Which, I generally stand by, but I realize is a little beauty-phobic. I generally trust people who went through awkward patches, who have learned to rely on inner beauty and comedy, who are…well, like me.

I can’t relate to beautiful people, therefore I shame them. But maybe beautiful people are just as weird and fucked up as me? Maybe they’re just waiting for someone to include them into the Weird And Wonderful circle. Because if Keeping Up With The Kardashians and The Hills have taught me one thing, it’s that beauty doesn’t guarantee happiness.

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We objectify beautiful people because it’s easier than to humanize them. It’s easier to write them off when we’re bemoaning our pain. “He would never understand that. He’s always been hot.” Sometimes that pedestal that we put beautiful people on develops into a full-blown trench separating the Hots from the Nots.

I think I started off this blog thinking that I didn’t identify with beauty, and because of that, I was somehow better and they were worse off for never having struggled like I did. But who the fuck am I to decide what anyone has gone through? At the end of the day, don’t we all just want to be seen as the fucked-up meat puppets we all are?

Everyone is put into some boxes due to their appearance. Adele, because of her weight, was labeled “approachable” and “one of us.” But she’s also a multimillionaire and has a voice of an angel. But we still see her as one of us because she’s “normal.” Mark and Ethan are “hot” so they’re watchable and consumable and enviable.

Everyone’s in a box, and some might have the pretty labels and privileges, but it’s still a box, at the end of the day. It’s still outward objectification and judgment imposing itself on individual lives.

Maybe they’re relying on hot, but I’m definitely relying on funny, and, when broken down, is that really much different? Everyone has a crutch, and some crutches are chosen for them. Am I really able to pass judgment on someone just because their crutch is a pretty face and a good butt?

Celebrity Sunday, Holidannys

CELEBRITY SUNDAY: KYLIE, COLTON, BATMAN AND THE BIRTH OF YEEZUS

THE FIRST “CELEBRITY SUNDAY!” Let the people know! Now, if you didn’t know—you didn’t know—Celebrity Sunday is your recap of the top events in pop culture of this last week. Wow, that’s a little bit convoluted. Basically, it’s everything you have and haven’t heard re pop culture!

So without any further ado, here’s the weekly recap!

(Okay, we all know that I’m going to talk about Kim Kardashian having her new baby, but I’m not starting with it, so stop freaking out).

1). The release of a teaser and full-length trailer for Batman v Superman:

Okay so I’m not a massive superhero fan, but this is still cool and newsy, because it’s Superman and Batman, aka every nerd’s wet dream. However, from an extremely outside perspective, the trailer was messy, confusing, and not very clear. It had a lot of throwing shade between Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne, and Jesse Eisenberg in a “The Californians” wig and then suddenly a mud-monster and then Wonder Woman, and I was just like, “What? Hon? What’s happening here?”

Seeing Ben Affleck as Bruce Wayne was weird because he was very suave and I always imagine Ben as the quintessential good boy from Boston, but he was looking old and not in a cute way. Clark Kent was hot as per usual. The teaser looked good though; it’s interesting to see Superman portrayed in a villainous light, and you almost root for Batman. Who knows? Maybe it’ll end up being a rom-com. That’s possible.

2). Kylie Jenner appears on the cover of Interview magazine, and causes controversy:

Kylie Jenner, ingénue and scion of the Kardashian-Jenner clan, was recently photographed on the cover of Interview magazine. The photoshoot is eerie, portraying a plasticized Kylie being carried around and propped up like a massive, hellish Barbie. Her face, already altered by her plumped-up lips, looks glacially placid and especially plastic. However, the controversy comes in when the cover portrayed her in a wheelchair, the leather choker around her neck almost reminiscent of a neck brace. Critics have called the photograph “ableist” and frankly, it does seem incredibly inappropriate and insensitive.

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The magazine defended their choice by saying, “The Kylie Jenner cover by Steven Klein…places Kylie in a variety of positions of power and control and exploring her image as an object of vast media scrutiny.” And I understand their intent, but I think it could’ve been done without using a wheelchair as a prop. The other poses—her astride a tuxedo-wearing man, being carried around stiff-limbed as an homage to Allen Jones, and in a latex bodysuit perched on a pedestal—explore her sexuality, her own power, and the powerlessness she has as a media object.

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I think the magazine does an excellent job of portraying Kylie as we see her, but having an actual in-depth and honest discussion with her. I just think they fucked up with that cover.

3). Sandra Bullock Adopts Another Child:

Sandra Bullock has confirmed that she has adopted her second child, a 3-year-old girl named Laila. The actress adopted her son Louis in 2010. The news comes just as the adoption has been finalized, but apparently the process has been going on for a few years. Sandra first fostered her daughter before officially adopting her. I’m so happy for the new family who will be celebrating their first Christmas all together! Congrats, Bullock fam!

4). Colton Haynes admits he has anxiety:

This is something close to my heart. Colton Haynes—Teen Wolf, Arrow—has disclosed, through a series of Tweets, that he suffers from extreme anxiety. Since he was in the fifth grade, the actor has suffered from the illness, causing fainting, hyperventilating, and sometimes even seizures. While the stigma surrounding mental illnesses is diminishing, a well-known and well-accepted actor like Colton, who is probably traditionally depicted as “having it all,” really helps to erase any stigma. Illnesses like anxiety, OCD or depression can completely destruct lives, but through medication or therapy, they can be managed. As someone who suffers from anxiety and depression, it’s nice to see other people come forward and say, “I have this too, but it’s not my whole being. It’s not me.”

If you or someone who you know suffers from a mental illness, I encourage you to take action, do your research, and seek out help. It is manageable and treatable, and should not incapacitate your ability to have a happy, healthy life.

5). Mary-Kate Olsen marries Olivier Sarkozy:

50% of the Olsen twins are now married, and she did it in an intimate Manhattan ceremony to the brother of the former French President. How goddamn chic. Apparently the only décor was bowls of cigarettes which is 50% ew, and 50% so eleganza. So cool. Mary-Kate, you’re so cool.

6). Amy Schumer and Serena Williams appear in a body-positive photo-shoot:

The high-powered force behind Inside Amy Schumer and Trainwreck appeared alongside tennis superstar in the 2016 Pirelli Calendar. Shot by Annie Leibovitz, the calendar usually features nude models, but this year chose to honor 12 women who excel in their various fields. Amy looks like her hair was done to the nines, and she’s holding a coffee cup. Serena is posed powerfully against a wall. Both women have been targeted for not endorsing “traditional” beauty standards—Amy for being average-sized and Serena for having a “man body”—so it’s amazing to see them literally give no fucks and take pride in their bodies. They look amazing and confident and strong, and inspire not only me but probably thousands of others by living honestly and confidently.

7). There was an information breach for fans buying tickets to Adele’s tour:

Adele’s limited tour through the UK and Europe started off with a bump. Fans, when going through the website to buy tickets, discovered that other people’s information was already put into the payment section. The website also features re-routes that stopped fans from purchasing. However, the problems were allegedly fixed. Additionally, despite adding more tour dates, every show is sold out, and 95% of the population is still crying in the bathrooms of their respective workplaces that we weren’t able to get tickets. I’m not okay. Not even a little bit.

8). Instagram releases its Top 10 Most-Liked Instagram posts for 2015:

Taylor Swift has five photos on the list, but surprisingly the most-liked photo—with 3.2 million likes—is that photo of Kendall Jenner with her hair in artsy hearts. Rounding out the list with two photos of Kendall and Taylor and her cats is Kylie Jenner holding up her diploma and Selena Gomez in a sweater. Truly iconic. But I can’t help but wonder how Kim didn’t get on the list. Or me, for that matter. Are we being blackballed? Does Instagram see us as a threat? I need to get Eva Chen on the phone stat. this is unacceptable. Also, I didn’t realize that Calvin Harris was so hot? But he is? And I’m into it.

9). A teaser trailer for the new season of Game of Thrones has been released:

While it doesn’t confirm that Jon Snow is back, he’s coming back. Most of the clip was just flashbacks to previous seasons of ~wAcKIneSs~ and ~WiLd anTIcs~ so that’s obviously very exciting, with a voiceover of some old dude and Bran Stark. I’m, like, annoyed that Bran is back because this season was great without him and he’s such a downer and so angsty, but it’s like going to the dentist. Unless you want to be gumming on some Jell-O, you have to get through the annoying painful things. Hopefully we see more of Daario Naharis’ cute butt. We should make a petition. Does anyone have any puff-paint or Sharpies?

10). KIM KARDASHIAN WEST HAS HAD HER BABY:

I’m so glad I didn’t decide to pre-write this and that I’m so good at procrastinating, because last night (Saturday), Kim Kardashian West and her husband Kanye West welcomed to this earth a baby boy. They haven’t released any name yet for the petite bundle of joy, but I’m actually kind of partial to “Wild.” As long as it’s not goddamn Easton or South, I’ll be fine. But I still vote for Ocean West. I heard that Kanye wants to name him Yeezus, which isn’t even that crazy for them.

After a difficul time conceiving, multiple surgeries—including one to “clean out the uterus”—Kim got pregnant. The pregnancy had its ups—that black lace Givenchy gown—and its downs—the resurgence of last year’s Met Gala carpet-pattern dress—as well as health scares—diabetes and the baby in breech—but Kim delivered a healthy baby and is doing well, despite going into labor three weeks shy of her Christmas Day delivery date. But I guess that they want to differentiate this coming of the Son of God from the last coming of the Son of God, which was like, idk, 2000 years ago or something. Who even knows who “Jesus” is? What’s even his Instagram??

While this might potentially mark the end of Kim Kardashian pregnancy style—which was amazing this time around—I’m excited for the new baby and classic Kim Kardashian non-pregnancy style. Additionally, I immediately told my sister about it. I have literally been waiting for this day for multiple weeks, so it’s almost like this is happening to me too, and I couldn’t be more excited! Long live baby Ocean Wild Yeezus Lexus Holy Trinity West!

Also, do you think that he’ll get a pair of Adidas Yeezys, or is he too late? Pls discuss.

P.S. Bonus: This didn’t happen during the week, but Caitlyn Jenner just got bangs, and I really have a strong opinion about it. Like, why?? Why did you do that, Caitlyn?!

ANYWAY, I hope you enjoyed the first edition of Celebrity Sunday. I actually love doing this because it’s pop culture and journalism in a beautiful blend. I might continue doing this even after Holidannys ends. Would you guys like that? Answer me!

Okay, see you guys tomorrow for Miscellaneous Mondays!

HAPPY HOLIDANNYS!

The Wunderkindof

Too good-looking to be this funny. Politics. Pop Culture. Millennial Ramblings.

Category Archives: Holidannys

HOW TO: ROCK THE PLANE

MISCELLANEOUS MONDAY: PACKING SUCKS

CELEBRITY SUNDAY: SAINT, SELENA, SNL, AND HILLARY

SEASONAL SATURDAYS: TOP TEN THINGS I’VE DONE TO GET INTO THE HOLIDAY SPIRIT

FASHION FRIDAY: I LOOKED LIKE A DENIM STRING BEAN

THOUGHTFUL THURSDAY: BUYING CHRISTMAS PRESENTS

WTF WEDNESDAY: TWO ABREAST

HOW TO: HAVE THE PERFECT KRISMAS—A POP CULTURE HOLIDAY PARTY

MISCELLANEOUS MONDAY: AN ANTHROPOLOGICAL APPROACH TO BEAUTY

CELEBRITY SUNDAY: KYLIE, COLTON, BATMAN AND THE BIRTH OF YEEZUS