Category Archives: My sparkling self

My new year’s resolutions and a word about people who camp out at Times Square on NYE wearing adult diapers

Happy New Year! I paused Married at First Sight just to check in because it’s been awhile.

First, a word to the people who just had to see the ball drop last night. Please take a long, hard look in the mirror. Is this who you want to be? Let’s start with the fact that you spent your vacation in New York at Times Square. I know you don’t live here because nobody who lives here goes to Times Square EVER (except in the case of real necessity), and never ever ever on New Year’s Eve. Also, you stood in the cold for hours and hours so you could watch a ball drop, a ball you could have watched on TV like I do every year, and it was so vital to your happiness that you wore Depends. If you didn’t wear Depends, you waited around in your own filth for hours and hours, or you have the strongest bladder known to man or womankind. Next time you come here, please do me a favor and hit up a dive bar in the Village. We’ll all be happier.

And now for my resolutions. Last year’s didn’t go so well. I resolved to write non work-related material for at least one hour a week and to compliment myself once a day for the sake of my self esteem. Resolution 1 broke down around February. I think resolution 2 went a bit further, but once I started paying myself compliments like “resilient liver,” I decided maybe I don’t have 365 amazing qualities. This year I’m going for more attainable things like:

-Eating meals off of proper plates rather than out of containers

-Eating said meals at appropriate meal times rather than snacking around the clock

-Crying less (I’ve only cried once this year so far, so things are looking up!)

-Buying new clothes no more than once every three months

-Keeping my orchid alive (this is the first one I’ve ever gotten to re-bloom, so fingers crossed)


-Figuring out why my laptop keeps waking up in the middle of the night after I put her to sleep/stop worrying that she’s going to attack me

-Maybe stop naming inanimate objects and referring to them with pronouns like “she” and “he,” but probably not

Good thing I wasn’t popular in middle school

According to a New York Times article about a new study published in Child Development, the kids who were cool in middle school are now losers in their early twenties. I realize we’re talking about people four years younger than I am, but it does lead me to wonder/fantasize: Is the reverse true? I was a certified loser in middle school, so does this mean I’m totally killing it now?

Pretty sure no. But to be fair, there’s probably a separate category for ladies who went to all-girls Quaker schools like I did.

Somebody will name her kid Scented Lotion someday

A guy I was chatting with online just told me his name is Sage, and I’m really not sure I can date someone named after an herb. Unless it’s like Marijuana or something. I’m not a stoner, but that would just be too good.

I’m not mad at this particular stranger. However, I am angry with his parents. Why do people name their children after inanimate objects? Last season on The Bachelor there was a 21-year-old single mother with a child named Kale. Way to ruin kale for me. Stop it, people.

In other news, if I ever have a dog I’m going to name it something like Jonathan or Susan.

White shirt guy, you’re not playing tennis

Last night, while riding the subway home, I happened to be sitting across from a man roughly my age, which is 25 plus 24 months, and he was such a ridiculous human being that I just had to take out my phone and write down a description of him. This is what I wrote:

The man sitting across from me is wearing white mesh shorts with a white striped polo shirt that says H2O. Oh, and white sneakers. It doesn’t help that he has super blond hair artfully done up in one of those Justin Bieber styles that’s meant to convey stylish nonchalance, even though it obviously took hours. I hate him. He’s sitting with his legs spread wide apart, big feet firmly planted on the ground. He’s probably going to scratch himself soon. He’s not reading a book because duh. He has the stubble of someone who hasn’t shaved in days, but you know he’s grooming that facial hair. Now he glances at his Rolex.

Then, I started thinking about how I strongly dislike so many strangers in general. For example, tourists. I live in New York, where tourists are the worst, but I can imagine they’re pretty bad in other cities, too. As a person who lives in New York (I’m not allowed to call myself a New Yorker yet, because I haven’t lived here for ten years), I avoid Times Square like the plague. But sometimes it’s unavoidable, like when I have to take the bus from Port Authority. These people stand in the middle of the sidewalks with their cameras taking pictures of the M&M store, because they’re never seen an M&M before, or a billboard, because they’ve never seen an ad before, and I have to walk around them because they’ve never used sidewalks before, and Sweet Moses it’s so annoying.

But people who live in New York are also the worst. Everybody is the worst here.

So I’m looking at this as an outlet for my rage about people I don’t know. Do you hate people you’ve never met, too? If so, let’s be friends.