It’s here! It’s here! Christmas is here. And as happy as we all are, I know that we’re all desperately sad that Holidannys 2015™ has come to an end. I know that you’ll miss me posting every day, but take heart in knowing that, like, I’m not dying and you need to back off and not be so smothering. God.


This Holidannys has really tested my strength, my beauty, my resolve, and my blog-writing abilities. Obviously I did amazingly, but I’m glad that it’s completed. Now we can go back to our regularly scheduled blog posts.

However, there are going to be a few changes. Or at least one that I can think of; I think I’ll continue doing Celebrity Sundays. They’re fun as fuck to write, and don’t really require a lot of additional willpower. So, if it’s okay with you guys—just joking, you have no opinion in the matter—I’ll up the number of posts to three times a week. For right now, I’ll still do my Monday and Thursday posts, but if I decide that I hate writing posts Sunday and Monday, then I might #ShakeItUp.


Me accepting your praise for finishing Holidannys.

But moving away from the boring logistical stuff. CHRISTMAS IS HERE. As I’m typing this, I’m sitting in my Christmas pajamas, listening to slightly oppressive Christmas choir music with a mug of tea and an already-consumed gingerbread man.

I hope that everyone—regardless of if you celebrate the holiday or not—have a nice day today. Even though it’s kind of hot today, it’s still Christmas and I’ll still be dressing like it’s cold because I have a very specific #holigay outfit planned and I have no time for adjusting for global warming.

I hope that if you hate the holidays, this regular Friday is cool and fun and nice. And if you love the holidays, then congrats—this is your Olympics. And if your family doesn’t “get” you this holiday season, know that I get you. We’re two peas in a pod, but maybe two pods? Idk, one pod just seems very cramped. No, it’s not because you smell. Why would you say that? I mean, now that you brought it up…

I want to wish a very Merry Christmas to all of my friends—home friends, study abroad friends, college friends—and my family—extended family, my sisters and parents, my secret Canadian mistress and our kids—and to you guys, my fans. No, no, no—don’t say anything. You’re my fans. Let me have this holiday fantasy.


I’ll be sad to see Holidannys go, but she was a fun ole bitch and I know that I haven’t seen the last of her. She’ll rise from her grave like the Ghost of Christmas Past and I’m Scrooge but young and hot. So, from Holidannys and I, have a nice Christmas and see you next year!




IT’S CHRIMMAS Y’ALL! MERCY CHRUSMAST! Okay, so it’s not. It’s Christmas Eve. And I was on Twitter, and someone I followed had retweeted a bunch of (hopefully fake) Meninist accounts with the hashtag: “Christmas Adam!” So I’m obviously converting to whatever religion that is. Christmas (St)eve.

I think that Christmas Eve is always the best day of the Christmas season. It’s that breathy anticipation of Christmas, without the realization that Christmas is actually over that I always get on Christmas Day. Christmas Eve is Kris Kringle presents and fireplaces and Christmas Mass. And my dad bought a boatload of appetizers and I’m high-key excited.


I’ll be so sad when the season is over. I’ve been getting into the “spirit” for a month and a half, essentially, and it’ll be sad when it’s over. January is a very un-spirit-y month, and there aren’t really any good holidays in the winter/spring/new year. There’s Valentine’s Day—which is more like “You’re single and eating Ben & Jerry’s on your bed” Day—and Arbor Day and St. Patrick’s Day—which is “Watching other people desecrate my heritage and get drunk during the day”—and then…Labor Day? Like, are there even any other holidays?

But obviously let’s not focus on that. Even though it’s like 70 degrees in New York, let’s snuggle into the Christmas spirit. I’m sitting in my living room surrounded by the aura of presents and—oh my god my Christmas tree is crooked. Like, so crooked. Is it going to fall over? Oh my god, Deborah. That’s the tree’s name—Deborah. Deborah go home, you’re drunk.


Since this is the last “Thoughtful Thursday” of Holidannys 2015, I feel like I can touch upon the end of the year, even though this won’t be the last blog before 2016. I’m kind of excited for 2015 to be over, but not in a bad way. This year was actually super-amazing, and I’m kind of excited for it to be over and for 2016 to begin and be amazing too. Is that weird? That because it was good that I’m glad it’s over? 2016 is going to be such a ball3r year—I’ll turn 21, I’ll be a senior in college (oh my god I just threw up in my mouth writing that), I’ll be hotter than ever, I’ll finally learn how to properly say “February.” It’ll be truly amazing. I’ll eat so many burgers.

I think I went into 2015 with extremely low expectations; and now I’m going into 2016 with extremely high expectations. But I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I’m a natural pessimist, so I’m always low-expectations-y, but I actually have a good feeling about 2016. Other than having to write out 2016—such a spiky number, not like that fat round goddess 2015—I really don’t see how this year couldn’t be good.

*then falls into a well and is trapped for six months*


so I hope that you all have an amazing Christmas. I hope that you get fun presents and get to spend time with people who love you and who you love. That may be your family, your friends, your parole officer. I hope you don’t do that thing where you eat like shit because it’s the “holidays” and 2016 is going to be a “new year, new me.” Do that thing where you eat like shit unapologetically and then decide to work out because you want to; not because January says so. I hope you have a good “Oh this is exactly what I wanted” face when you don’t get exactly what you wanted. I hope that you get what you wanted; I hope you get what you need.

Merry Christmas, happy holidays.




How do I get the life of Ina Garten, Hamptons house and a Jewish husband and all that, without having to go through her career of a White House budget analyst and cooking store mogul? Ponder that while you read this post and then message me privately. I would be very curious to know.

It’s Miscellaneous Monday on da blog, so I’m just going to ramble about the various goings-on of my life. Prepare for glamour. Pause for chic. Buckle in for disappointment.

Okay, so I wrote that paragraph and then immediately sunk back into Ina’s world and am now watching her make carrot salad. She’s already done a coq au vin, a chocolate cheesecake, stuffed Cornish hens, garlic mashed potatoes, mashed turnips, and made an entire chocolate wedding cake. I think her show counts more in the science fiction realm, rather than cookery, because literally how is she not 1,000 pounds? And how is Jeffrey not dead from consuming so much chocolate ganache?


literally me typing this blog.

I was watching while I was wrapping presents, and despite not having a ton of presents to wrap, it took me a while. I’m not a great wrapper—or a great rapper—so it’s a process. And Ina really makes me move slowly, as slowly as molasses dripping onto a freshly made Belgian waffle.

I’m also moving slowly because I started back up at the gym this week. I’ve done a legs-and-abs workout, a triceps-and-shoulders workout, and a back-and-biceps workout, and I literally feel like I am about to die. I forgot how sore you can be, and it’s been almost two months since I really worked out in any solid capacity. But I think I was completely ready to get back into the swing of things, even though not working out gives you so much free time to watch Netflix and eat ice cream. Like, truly, that’s all I did.


I went to the mall today—let’s go to the mall!—and I was shopping and I kind of hate all shop workers. Like, I know that it’s your job to say hi to me and ask me if I need help, but I hate you. I have to do the same thing; I get it, we all work in the service industry, but please let me browse these LUSH bath bombs in peace. I don’t need you to draw attention to the fact that I’ve been deciding between two different facial cleansers for the last ten minutes. We both know what’s been happening.

And the thing I noticed a lot is that they wanted my email a lot. Usually, they don’t ask, but this time they did, and I was so put off that I just gave it to them. But why do you need it? Why can’t I just buy this lotion in peace, and then slink off to Urban Outfitters to secretly check the sales, even though Urban is awful humanitarian-wise and I shouldn’t give them my business?


So gymming and shopping for Christmas presents—that’s really all I’ve done. Oh, and I keep doing this thing where I’ll dress like a human being for 1-2 hours when I go outside, and then as soon as I’m back in my house, I get into my Primark sweatpants and lie on the floor of my room. I have a bed. I just don’t use it. Right now I’m leaning against an armchair. Only after an hour of doing this with a sore butt did I think it might be a possibility for me to go into the armchair. But that’s too much work.

Everything is futile and everything will be sucked into the ether eventually!




I went to the gym today, so I simultaneously think that I am dying and also that I am the strongest person that has ever existed. My arms feel like jell-o, and I’ve negotiated that into spending the entire day in bed, watching Parks and Recreation and wearing sweatpants. That, however, is a full-time job, so I don’t feel bad in the slightest.

And my room, which has a certain cavelike allure since it’s at the back corner of my house, is illuminated, chicly, by several strings of fairy lights. Every year, since I was a kid, I have put Christmas lights over my bed and around my room. When I was a little kid, it was so I could read after my mom made me turn off my bedside lamp. When I grew up, and learned that reading is for dorks—TV rules!!!!1!—they became purely for aesthetics.


(I’m lying about reading. Reading rules. Also, I did the fairy lights because I was shit-scared of the dark as a child and medium-adult.)

This year, I had put Christmas lights up in August to make my room feel Tumblr-y, so when I came home from London I plugged them in. They are warm and inviting and remind me of Christmas and hot cocoa and freezing my ass off.

And even though this year the temperature isn’t exactly North Pole-ish, I love having Christmas traditions to fall back on.

One of my fam’s favorite Christmas traditions is Secret Santa, or Kris Kringle, or whatever else you want to call it. We put our names into a hat, pick out a slip of paper, and buy a present for that person. This year I have my (name redacted for Kris Kringle purposes) and now I have to buy them a present. We exchange the Secret Santa presents on Christmas Eve, and then we get our Christmas pajamas.


I totally thought that Christmas pajamas were a thing that only we did, but “apparently” it’s a “popular thing to do.” Idk, it feels like y’all are jacking my family swag. After we get into our pajamas, which I will take off for actual sleeping because I sleep like I’m about to get robbed and need to be ready to flee—running shorts and a t-shirt—we take a family drive around the neighborhood to look at the luminaries.


Luminaries are brown paper lunchbags that have been filled with sand. They are lined along the sidewalks and a candle is lit inside each one. We have been getting lit for many years, and it is so ~dope~ and one of my favorite things. Then we drive around the neighborhood, judging everyone else’s Christmas decorations. Some are chic. Some are tragic. Note to everyone: blue Christmas tree lights are never a good idea. Shut it down.

And in the morning, we eat cinnamon rolls and open presents and get jealous over which child will be the most favored by Santa that year. Then we get dressed and go to family parties and then I go on Twitter. It’s a Christmas miracle.


Even though I’m pretty sure I never believed in Santa—I don’t know why, he just always seemed fishy—I’m really excited for Christmas because I love presents sooo much. And also, like, giving them or w/e.

And also, even though we are 23, 20, and 18, we still leave out milk and cookies for Santa, and my mother will still sign certain gifts from Santa. Even though she doesn’t even bother switching up her handwriting. It truly is the most wonderful time of the year. Except for my birthday, which is basically a national holiday.

Less than a week until Christmas!




So, misleadingly, this is not going to contain an actual, food-making cooking recipe. I understand that my use of the term “recipe” implies some sort of physical food consumption and previous preparation, but I promise this will be Chicken Noodle Soup for the Holiday Soul. Also, misleadingly, I never read any Chicken Noodle Soup books, despite my vast amounts of angst.

Instead, this is a recipe that I have been following to get into the Holiday Spirit (which would be a great name for an alcohol brand! Like, “Holiday Spirit: Make Getting Through the Holidays A Little Easier”):


One-part sweaters:

So Christmas sweaters—or “jumpers” as we call them in the UK because I’m oh-so-assimilated—are the fucking bomb and I adore them. I went to Primark—essentially an H&M-Target hybrid on crack cocaine—and bought two Christmas sweaters, upping my entire collection to three sweaters. That’s almost half a week! But I really enjoy wearing them because it means you don’t have to put a lot of effort into the rest of your outfit because everyone will either be captivated by the ugly sweater, or be so repelled by the ugliness that they can’t even bear to look at you.

One-part Christmas movies:

So far, I’ve watched Home Alone and The Santa Clause, and I intend on watching Elf, A Christmas Story, the Christmas List, It’s A Wonderful Life (against my own free will), and maybe others. I have to willingly suspend my disbelief and sink back into the mindset of child-me, who was so fucking gullible, and just let the holiday magic wash over me like a warm bath.

One-part baking:

I made cookies to go along with the hot cocoa we drank as Charlie—you finally got another mention, you troll—and I watched Home Alone. And, like, I made it from a pre-packaged bag and just added butter and an egg, and still managed somehow to kind of fuck it up. I didn’t realize that there are goddamn algorithms for what kind of cookie density, mass and volume you want, and so I ended up with liquid-y, flat, not very dense sugar cookies that were delicious, but because they’re pure sugar, but had that daring edge of possible salmonella.


One-part Christmas music:

I already wrote about my Christmas playlist, so I’m not gonna rehash everything (I’ll include a link here to my Spotify Christmas playlist) but I just have one thing to say. Kylie Minogue is great at Christmas albums. Actually, I have multiple things to say: I need Adele to make a Christmas album. And have you ever heard Lady Gaga sing “White Christmas”? It’s actually, like, so good, and I want her to make an entire Christmas album. Also Cheek To Cheek isn’t bad. There—I said it.

One-part Christmas socks:

Not much to say. Just buy them. Just do it. Shia LeBouf Just Do It. Also, wait, should Nike sue Shia for copyright infringement for saying their catchphrase? Let me know.

One-part red and green:

So today I wore fluffy, red and green Christmas socks, but tucked away behind my jeans and boots, so you didn’t see them. But I did wear a very muted forest-green flannel and a oxblood-burgundy-maroon-red-ish scarf—a blanket scarf, omg it’s so fucking big I’m obsessed—and I walked around a little sneaky Christmas elf because I was sneakily wearing Christmas colors without looking like a douchebag or a Duggar. Nailed it!

Stir thoroughly, bake at 350° F, let cool for 12 minutes, cut and serve immediately with familial passive-aggressiveness, inane questions from relatives, an itchy sweater, and a pine tree allergy.


Interestingly enough, getting myself into the holiday spirit has made me want to get more into the giving spirit. This year, for probably the first year ever, I actually plan on getting each of my family members a gift—not just my Secret Santa—instead of just giving them the gift of “laughter” and my “presence” which they always try to return for cash-back. They have no appreciation for my humor, and it’s frankly tragic.

I hope that if you’re into the holiday season, you’re enjoying it, and if you’re not, that you’re having a nice Saturday!




So if you remember a few weeks ago, I said that I had something in the works for December. You don’t? Oh. Um. Okay. I hadn’t planned for that. *Shuffles through index cards* Okay, um scratch that. I HAVE SOMETHING IN THE WORKS FOR DECEMBER! And it’s finally come to fruition! Yes, fruition!


For the 25 days up to Christmas, you’ll be getting 25 posts! Starting tomorrow, Tuesday, December 1st, you can expect 25 Days of Holidannys™! I know that you’re so excited/don’t really care!

Inspired by the iconic 25 Days of Christmas, a la ABC Family, this blog series will blow you away but also be slightly underwhelming, just like ABC Family! I’m really excited to start, but also I am deathly afraid of failure and have a crippling fear concerning carpal tunnel syndrome. So pray for me!

Since I am terrible at “having a life” and “writing from the heart,” I’ve decided to organize Holidannys into a category for each day of the week.


Monday will be Miscellaneous Mondays! This essentially means that they’re my days to go cray-z and also they were going to be “Memories Mondays” but that’s lame and I changed it last minute!

Tuesday will be How-To Tuesdays! People—me—are always asking me—my reflection—for advice, so these will be a series of “how-to’s” in order to become as adult and mature as me. Also know that I wanted to call this Titties Tuesdays, but I don’t know what I would’ve written about, so let that put my advice into perspective and lower your expectations.

Wednesday will be WTF Wednesdays! Even though I’ve worked through my anger issues through intensive therapy, I still get a little cross! So every Wednesday, expect a rant from moi.

Thursday will be Thoughtful Thursdays! I try to be uplifting and pensive and hopeful, so this day will be dedicated to my more inspirational ramblings. You’re welcome and I’m sorry in advance.


Friday will be Fashion Fridays! I’m a fashion icon, so obviously this category is desperately desired by me. Some of them will be tales of my greatest fashion mishaps, but some might be actual fashion tips or my fashion desires, inspirations and pet peeves of the moment.

Saturday will be Seasonal Saturdays! Since this is the holiday season, I figured I had to make an entire day about getting into the holiday spirit and be all Christmas-y/Hanukkah-y/Kwanzaa-y/Winter Solstice-y.

Sunday will be Celebrity Sundays! Yes, I know that’s not alliterative. But I think you’ll like this. To wrap up each week and prep your body for the next one, I’ll be offering you a comprehensive list of all the celebrity drama/gossip that’s been going on in the last week. I’ll give you my expert commentary—as I am a pop culture journalism editorialist/icon—and we can dissect the celebrity news together! Expect a lot about the Kardashians. And maybe, maybe, maybe, we’ll get a Kardashian-West Illuminati baby—I mean, a regular Kardashian-West baby—during Holidannys! Pray to whatever gods you worship and sacrifice whoever you need to sacrifice to make sure that that happens!


So that’s each week laid out for you! Lain? Lay? Whatever, that’s the week.

But seriously, I hope that you guys are excited, because I know that I am. I wanted to end the first year of my blog—can you believe it’s only a year old? Actually, it’s 11 months old, but who’s counting—on a bang, and I really wanted to challenge myself. Writing twice a week can be challenging, but it can also be a little stagnant. I really want to reinvigorate The Wunderkindof with all the fresh pizazz and panache that it’s capable of. I hope that you’re going to come along this slay-ride—guess, I know how I wrote it—and end the first year of the premier “angsty, teenager-written editorialized blog for antisocial pop culture freaks and my Facebook friends in the Greater North Atlantic Area” blog!

I’ve got to skedaddle, because I’ve got a lot of writing to do! Just kidding, I’m gonna go watch more Sex and the City and eat ice cream out of the pint with a spoon. But after that, I’ll start writing.

Thanks, you hoe-hoe-hoes!


Happy Holidannys To All!