The 5 Facebook Friends You Definitely Have..

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At this point, I’m not really sure why I still have Facebook at all to be honest, considering I almost exclusively use it to look at pictures of myself from high school to remember that it can always be (and definitely was) worse, watch political/social justice arguments unfold, and get meager amounts of validation from my parents. Other than that, I just keep my account out of habit, and to attempt to balance out the human garbage persona I’ve built for myself on Twitter. That being said, I’ve noticed that a lot of my Facebook friends fall into five categories, and whether you want to admit it or not, yours probably do too. So, if you’re willing to endure this BuzzFeed-esque listicle, you can find out exactly what these five types of friends are, and all the reasons they annoy the absolute shit out of me (don’t even, you knew that was going to be a part of this).

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  1. The Political Expert: Equally annoying whether they’re coming from either side, and generally very easily provoked. More than likely this is either a distant relative, or somebody you went to high school with and haven’t seen since (bonus points if it’s the parent of somebody you went to high school with). They are always right, and tend to be about as reasonable as a toddler who is being weened off of their pacifier. Usually only come out of the woodwork during an election year, or during national tragedies.
  2. The VagueBooker: There’s ALWAYS something monumentally tragic going on in the VagueBooker’s life, at least, by their own definition. Very rarely does the VagueBooker have something actually tragic occurring, such as a death in the family, loss of a job, illness, etc. the more than likely  scenario is that they have been, at best, temporarily and minorly inconvenienced. The VagueBooker really chaps my ass because they always just post things like “Really going through it right now, send good vibes please” and “Prayers” without any details (I would imagine that’s due to the fact that what they’re usually “going through” can fall into the category of “first world problems”). I get that some things are personal, but if it’s that personal, why are you posting about it on the internet at all? What is the return on my “good vibes” and “prayers” investment? There’s no such thing as a free lunch, you’re going to have to give me some details.
  3. The Oversharer: The Oversharer is the ANTITHESIS of the VagueBooker, but equally as irritating. The Oversharer tends to do things like “check in” at the doctor and find it necessary to let you know their getting a colonoscopy, post statuses like “SO DONE” that are followed up with an over detailed description of a very personal fight they’ve had with their spouse, etc. If the Oversharer in your life has children, you probably (unwillingly) know how many shits said children have taken this week.
  4. The Pedestrian: Has the overwhelming compulsion to post a new status anytime they literally do anything. You know what this person is doing every step of the way, and by noon, you are aware that they have “grabbed coffee” (and where they grabbed it), filled up their tank with gas (and what music they were listening to on the way to the gas station), and arrived at their desk (and, if you’re anything like me, rolled your eyes at their accompanying “on my grind” hashtag). The Pedestrian either doesn’t know Twitter exists, or is older and is overwhelmed by the prospect of taking on another Social Media channel (don’t worry, they’ll probably get one 3 years from now). Fun fact, my mom got a Twitter before I did and I mocked her by saying “Who the f$%& would want a social network that was just a constant stream of Facebook statuses?” the joke was definitely on me.
  5. The Wine Mom: BIG fan of inspirational quotes, puns, and slightly naughty/sassy references to their spouse, kids, and of course, wine. They joke with their friends about things like bringing White Zinfandel (which they probably refer to as “white zin”) to playdates, and love posting pictures of wine with captions like “I drink wine because the doctor said I shouldn’t keep things bottled up!” The wine mom is generally harmless, and much like your actual mother doesn’t really bug you unless she goes off on some sort of preachy tangent.

I guess I just yearn for the days when Facebook was simpler, and I had to create a fake college email as a high school freshman to be able to join. Instead, I’m now living in a time where someone was able to share a post from “Minions Quotes” that was then able to find it’s way int0 my newsfeed (without any sort of trigger warning), and, quite frankly, after that, all I really have to say is, I’ll see you in Hell, Mark  Zuckerberg.

 

Flashback Friday: The Suspect Wore Louboutins

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If you’ve had even the most minimal of interactions with me, you are probably aware of my affinity and love for all things reality television. When I say reality television, I don’t mean “I enjoy Top Chef and The Amazing Race,” no, I mean “I can recite Teresa Giudice’s entire monologue from the iconic Danielle Staub provoked table flip scene from Real Housewives of New Jersey.” Unfortunately, when your love for trash runs as deeply as mine, you’re often faced with the devastating predicament of the shows you’re so fond of only lasting 1-2 seasons. It happened with MTV’s “Fat Camp,” and then again with Bravo’s “NYC Prep” and “Gallery Girls,” but none of these shows were, for me, gone too soon as E!’s “Pretty Wild.”

The show followed the Neiers sisters, Tess (who is actually adopted, her last name is Taylor), Alexis, Gabby, and their mother Andrea, who in my opinion, was the breakout star of this series’ one magical season. The two older girls are both “pursuing modeling careers” which back in 2010 I rolled my eyes at, but hey, Kendall Jenner is on the cover of the September Issue of VOGUE, so, anything is possible I guess. Gabby honestly wasn’t that memorable,  mostly because she didn’t get in trouble, and the biggest drama surrounding her was her decision to stop being homeschooled and start attending public high school. Yawn.

I feel like it’s important to note that the girl’s mother centered her homeschool curriculum (I use the words “school” and “curriculum” VERY loosely here) around the book, “The Secret.” If you’re unfamiliar, “The Secret” is a self help book (based on a movie, so, you know, completely credible) and the premise is basically that you get back whatever type of “energy” you put into the world. For context, let’s just say if I had to guess, Spencer Pratt was probably super into this book during his “crystals” phase. She also wakes the girls up by screeching “GIRLS! IT’S TIME FOR YOUR ADDERALL!” she’s literally Amy Poehler’s character in ‘Mean Girls’ brought to life.

The drama came to a peak (this is like episode 2-3 by the way) when the LAPD showed up at their house, demanded Andrea “contain her dogs” (aka like 4 unidentifiable toy dogs; this was mid 2000s Los Angeles after all) and asked that the cameras be shut off. We find out later that she was a part of the “Bling Ring” aka the group that stole from Orlando Bloom, Audrina Patridge, and most notably, Paris Hilton. Naturally, Andrea and the other girls act like Alexis has been unjustly detained and spend hours hysterically crying outside the LA County Jail. Eventually Nelson Mandela, I mean, Alexis, is released and they all weep, hug, and have one of their bullshit energy prayer circles or whatever.

Now, let’s get to the most iconic part of the entire series aka the Nancy Jo Sales phone call. Alexis is PUMPED because she’s approached by Nancy Jo about doing an interview about all the Bling Ring legal drama for Vanity Fair. She’s all giddy and excited because (allegedly) Nancy Jo gives off the impression that the article is going to paint Alexis in a positive light, redeem her, show that she was just a victim of falling in with bad friends, blah blah. Spoiler Alert! The article doesn’t even do that a little bit, like nowhere close, literally could not even be interpreted that way. Naturally, the whole fam gathers to confront NJ over the phone,  they get her voicemail, and proceed to make several attempts to leave her a scathing message, but between Alexis’s cry-talking/screaming and Andrea intermittently, randomly yelling “YOU LIED!” into the phone, I’m not sure if they ever succeeded to be honest.

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It wasn’t until Kimberly Noel Kardashian-West exposed Taylor Swift in July 2016 via Snapchat that I’ve been so invested in a piece of investigatory journalism as I was Nancy Jo’s Vanity Fair article. Honestly I don’t think I’ll ever be completely over the fact that the show that partially inspired “The Bling Ring” only got one season,  but, I suppose that when you strike reality television gold within the first season, it’s sometimes best to just cash out and go home (or, as the case may be, to Paris Hilton’s house). I’m not completely sure what the Neiers sisters and mother of the century Andre are up to these days, but I imagine that they’re probably in a West Hollywood bar somewhere, talking about how Alexis helped to launch Emma Watson’s career or something equally ridiculous.

We Need To Talk About Statement Necklaces

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If there’s one word I feel pretty safe omitting from the “Adjectives to Describe Grace’s Personal Style” list, it’s “trendy.” This probably has something (everything) to do with the fact that you can usually find me dressed like a suburban, Connecticut soccer mom, who “maybe, probably, most definitely” has Gin in her Dunkin Donuts coffee cup. The only exception to this tends to be on more formal occasions, when I instead choose to take my style cues from rich, older, Upper East Side widows. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti trend, I’m just self aware enough to know that while some people might look chic in a pair of adult overalls, I’m more than likely going to fall somewhere in between “First Grader with a Thyroid Problem” and “House Painter.” That being said, there is one trend I just can’t wrap my head around, and that is the Statement Necklace.

I know what you’re thinking, Statement Necklaces, aren’t exactly new, so maybe they don’t fall under the whole “trend” umbrella, maybe they really have withstood the test of time. This is exactly why I consider them to be the herpes of the accessories world; even if they aren’t everywhere/all up in your face like they were in 2009/2010, all it takes is an accidental trip into the jewelry section of Target to be cast down into Bubble Necklace Hell. Would I classify myself as completely anti statement jewelry? No, in fact, I’m not being dramatic at all when I say that I would literally die for Madeline Albright’s pin collection, but as far as people trying to pass off giant collars comprised entirely of bright chunks of plastic/shards of glass as “chic” and “fashion forward?”

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Maybe it’s because I just don’t get wanting to “glam up” a t-shirt and jeans ensemble with what essentially appears to be the grown up version of those spray paint dry pasta necklaces children make in pre school. If I’m in casual clothing, you can bet the last thing I’m going to do is hang an art deco albatross around my neck. The more likely scenario is me trying to blend in with the shadows like the soulless, pale vampire my makeup-less face and the doughnut glaze stain on my shirt suggest I am.

At the end of the day, apart from the aesthetic assault the majority of these pieces of neon hued nightmare jewelry inflict on me, I think the name is really just what makes my eyes roll all the way into the back of my head. Exactly what “statement” are you trying to make? That you have the word(s) “classy” “belle” and/or “sassy” somewhere in your Social Media handle(s)? That you’re the type of person who’s favorite cocktail is Diet Coke with Vodka (it’s absolutely not a cocktail by the way, it’s high school/freshman year of college desperation, don’t get it twisted)? That you’ve referred to yourself as a “future housewife” at some point, and were completely serious?

Please, enlighten me! Just what is your giant, brightly colored, gaudy neckwear trying to tell me? Because the only thing it’s communicating to me, before you even open your mouth, is that it’s incredibly likely that I am going to find you absolutely insufferable.

Oops!…I Did It Again

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Before the one person that actually checks to see if I’ve updated this blog (Hi Mom!) tries to come for my wig over the lack of posting, let me plead my case, as there are several legitimate (at least in my eyes) reasons why I stopped writing here. (Sadly, none of them involve fulfilling my lifelong dream of becoming a C-List celebrity that has been hospitalized for “exhaustion” and/or “personal issues”).

  1. Work. Can you believe that actually performing well at work requires time and effort? The tiny entitled, insufferable Millenial that lives inside me finds this astoundingly disrespectful and rude, but real life me mostly finds it exhausting. Honestly, once my day is over I have little energy to do much more than order Seamless and watch half a Law and Order: SVU episode before passing out face down in whatever packaging my food came wrapped in.
  2. On April 23, 2016, Beyonce Giselle Knowles-Carter Dropped Her Visual Album “Lemonade.” No explanation necessary, as I can only assume that everyone else reading this was also left as bald headed/temporarily robbed of their fine motor skills as I was.
  3. Calvin Harris blocked me on Twitter, so I obviously had to find time to adjust to my status as a professional A-List Celebrity Shit Poster. Following the release of the totally organic not at all staged photos of Taylor Swift and Tom Hiddleston canoodling on a Rhode Island beach (which somehow managed to look more like photos of a man taking his aging nana to the shore than anything romantic) a mere 2 weeks after her breakup with Calvin, I tweeted the World’s Highest Paid DJ the following..Screen Shot 2016-07-16 at 2.24.27 PMScreen Shot 2016-07-16 at 2.24.15 PM Screen Shot 2016-07-16 at 2.32.41 PM
  4. I HAD AN IDENTITY CRISIS OKAY?! 

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For awhile I ignored this blog because I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to write about, and while I totally recognize that this blog was always destined to be a bit of a clusterf%#$ I still wanted to have some sort of consistency theme wise. Now that I have that a bit more narrowed down, I’ll be having you all saying “WTF? Why is Grace like this?!” a lot more often..

So, in conclusion, I will be more consistent with posting about the things I’m truly passionate about (ie: commenting on CeLeBriTy dRaMa, reality television, early/mid-2000’s pop culture, and bitching about all the weird things that annoy me). I promise, and not in a “Scott Disick promising for the millionth time he’s going to sober up” kind of way, but like, actually.

Hello, It’s Me..

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It’s been awhile since I’ve had the time to even really think much about this blog (literally though, I had to reset my password just now..). My real life job got really busy, plus Adele’s new album came out, which rendered me pretty much emotionally crippled and non functional for a few weeks, so, you understand.

I could catch you up on everything that has happened in my life since the VMAs, but that would put all of us, including me, to sleep (and I took an Adderall this morning so that’s saying something) so instead I’m gonna go ahead and fill you in on the most important things that have happened since I last abused the internet with my non-sensical ramblings.

The Love of my Life, the Paris to my Nicole, Benjamin came to New York for a visit..

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All you really need to know about this reunion is that our first stop was the DASH Store in SoHo to purchase matching beanies. We then proceeded to walk to Benny’s Burritos in the West Village while shouting “DASH DOLL REALNESS” at people on the street. The rest of that day was spent throwing shade, and reminiscing about simpler times, like the night we refer to as our “Ke$ha Night” where we concluded an evening puking bright pink vomit, thanks to the high class bottle of Peach flavored Andre Champagne we had consumed a few hours before. Aaaah, youth*

Basically the next few days were spent doing pretty much some sort of variation of that day’s activities. That is until Monday, which was Ben’s last night in town. Anyone who knows me (us) knows I (we) am (are) a total slut for any and all of the Real Housewives franchises, but Atlanta holds a special (ie: ratchet) place in my heart. Maybe it’s because I also grew up in the peach state, or maybe I just really appreciate some good old fashioned wig snatching, shade throwing, and tea spilling, either way I am an absolute hoe for RHOA.

So, most of these ladies, in addition to their “work” on the show, have other “business” ventures. You have such entrepreneurial endeavors as “She by Sheree” and Kandi’s music career (rip). Then you have NeNe Leakes, who you may remember from the iconic moment in history when she referred to Kim Zolciak-Biermann simply as “wig.” What is NeNe doing with her time these days you ask? Oh, you know, casually joining the cast of “Chicago” as Matron “Mama” Morton. So, what do two cultured divas do with a free Monday night in Manhattan? They obviously buy (overpriced) tickets, and pre game at a Blockheads down the street.

Let me just hit you with a few highlights from that evening..

  • NeNe’s “When You’re Good to Mama” performance. Ya’ll I kid you not when I say I was brought to life by this performance, not because there was any real vocal talent involved, but mostly because I can clearly picture NeNe singing it to Greg in real life after he brings her a frozen daiquri poolside. Also a fun fact, I literally screamed “YASSS MISS LEAKES SNATCH MY DAMN WIG!” at the end of the performance.
  • NeNe looking bored the rest of the show, and her reactions to things other cast members were doing. I want a set of emojis entirely made from her facial expressions during Chicago, and then I want said set of emojis tattooed on me, that’s how priceless they were.
  • I am pretty sure the cast in it’s entirety was wasted, messy boots ya’ll, believe you me. Luckily, the people in the audience who had come to see an actual Broadway musical were all European tourists who didn’t know WTF was happening anyway, and Ben and I literally only came to see NeNe, so, it all worked out.

Flash forward to after the show, I hustled my ass to that stage door faster than I have done just about anything in my entire 25 years on the planet earth. My program was ready to be signed, my phone was ready to take selfies, my wig was ready to be snatched. So, NeNe comes out, and I #expose myself the minute she walks up to me, nervously (shouting) “I was the bitch that screamed ‘Yasss Miss Leakes snatch my damn wig!’ at the end of ‘When You’re Good to Mama..” She gives me her best “this white bitch” face and says “You tweeted that at me to, didn’t ya?” RIP me.

12301649_10205311815091125_7002576338040755576_n.jpgA fun fact about this #iconic photograph we took is that I am actually planning on having it commissioned as an oil painting at some point to hang in my home. After all, can you really describe it as anything but modern art? No, I didn’t think so. 

So there you have it, the most exciting thing to happen to me in 2015 (and maybe forever, I hear you get pretty attached to a baby if you have one, and apparently getting married is pretty cool, but I can promise it’ll at least be in the top 5 for the rest of my life). Also, I promise to update this bad boy more often, if I ever go radio silent again, go ahead an assume that I’ve fulfilled my dream of becoming a B-list celebrity, and I’m being hospitalized for “exhaustion” and/or “personal issues.”

*low standards and even lower budgets

A Collaboration Made in Heaven (By That, I Mean, Over Margaritas)

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It was only a matter of time, ya’ll, before I brought in my fellow (and favorite) pop culture human trash can, Ben into this blog. You may remember us from our short lived High School Podcast, “Lil Ben & Sexy Grace” or you may not. Whatever, we’re over it. Anyway, since we’re both bi-coastal butterflies who have busy lives and no cable (#2BrokeGirls) we’re bringing you our VMA-Highlight Recap a week late.

Taylor Swift’s Wildest Dreams Music Video

B: #JUSTICEFORGAGA #JUSTICEFORARTPOP. Did ya’ll notice every single person in this video was white? “If you’re from Africa, why are you white?” Looking at you, Taylor. Slash, TSwift, get your life together, stop complaining and writing Tumblr posts about Spotify not paying you .35 cents per song. #IWASROOTINGFORYOU #WEWEREALLROOTINGFORYOU #TYRA

G: Taylor strapped me to a giraffe (or the one of the other 234234 rando animals that appeared in this video) and dragged my thirsty, willing ass all the way across the savannah. Tay is definitely my favorite “problematic female fave” (I have a few), but I can’t help but love her. Also, if you’re wondering why white girls/gay men use the word “daddy” so much, refer to Scott Eastwood as an example.

“MILEY WHAT’S GOOD?!”

B: #SnottyNoseBoys (?), #MyPastor, #PastorLydia, #Blessed. Nicki, take several seats, ya look foolish. This whole thing feels very VH1/Mount De Sales Academy circa 2007, I’m feeling very attacked right now. @MileyCyrus handled this the way I do most things, you twirl and flip your hair, swish your hips, and move on. Prediction for the VMAs 2018–Nicki licks Miley, who’s dressed as a bald eagle live on stage, while debuting a surprise 2-disc album that comes with a gram of weed, wrapped completely in cotton candy.

G: I can’t hunt down the receipts (#lazy) but there was audience cam footage of Taylor Swift and her #squad during this moment and EVERY SINGLE ONE of those girls leaned forward to look at her as soon as Nicki said “Now back to this bitch..” where’s the loyalty, Bad Blood #squad? I also feel like Katy Perry got REALLY excited for about two seconds. Also, if you see me shouting “MILEY WHAT’S GOOD?!” at random strangers, remember, it’s not mental illness, it’s cultural awareness.

Demi Lovato Bringing Out Iggy to Perform 

B: Poor thing couldn’t even get a spot on the main stage, #rude. Demi Lovato is the most underrated Disney artist of our generation, vocals #OnPoint, #OnFleek, #RIPSelena Gomez. Oh Iggy, oh no. Is that even english? When in doubt #grind. In conclusion, only Demi Lovato has the balls to crowd surf on an oversized, inflatable float outdoors in the middle of Downtown Los Angeles.

G: I feel like this was the point in the show Britney Spears threw up her hands (and probably a bag of Cheetos), said “I’m out ya’ll” and flew back to Las Vegas..#BuyPrettyGirlsOnITunes

Justin Bieber’s New Hair

B: Not even close to Ellen DeGeneres on a bad hair day. Look at her though! SO brave! #TearsforJustinBiebersBangs #DonateHere

G: Somewhere, Kate Gosselin threw a bottle of white wine at her TV, and actually screamed “BITCH STOLE MY LOOK!”

MILEYS SURPRISE ALBUM

B: *sing to the tune of “Partition”* DRIVER ROLL UP THE PARTITION PLEASE, I NEED TO LISTEN TO MILEYS NEW ALBUM ON MY IPHONE PLEASE! Girl, really though, Soundcloud? #198-WHO, #BYETAYLOR. If at first you don’t succeed, take a hit of acid, dust yourself off, and try again. #RIPAaliyah #MileyftAaliyah #JUSTICEFORARTPOP

G: A FREE album??!?!?! Has anyone checked on Taylor Swift? Is she alive? *Patiently waits on Taylor’s open letter to Soundcloud* See footage of her typing it below..

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Kanye’s Speech

B: LOL you expect me to watch anyone give a speech over five minutes (excluding any Real Housewives reunion specials)? PS I would totally vote for him as #POTUS

G: #Same. Also still wondering why he dressed Kim like a boiled peanut.

That Time I Planted Crops in My Ear..

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Sometimes I have to wonder if the combination of my parent’s DNA resulted in an actual, functioning human child, or something more akin to a genetic science experiment where *something* went a little bit wrong. Everyone makes questionable choices when they’re older, but I apparently decided, I being the tiny, mom jean wearing, drunk adult pictured above, to start making them early. Allow me to elaborate further.

Out at a movie one night (The Prince of Egypt) with my dad and brother, I got bored (I guess the animated story of Moses just wasn’t really grabbing me). After bored-eating an inhumane amount of popcorn (a practice I still keep up to this day #consistency) I decided that it would be fun to stick the kernels in my ears and then dig them back out. I know, but to answer your question, no, I hadn’t accidentally/intentionally ingested any Crystal Meth. After a few successful rounds of this weird ass game, the kernel didn’t come back out. Knowing that my parent’s reaction would be less than stellar, I chose to keep this to myself, figuring that nothing “bad” could really happen from me sticking corn into my ear.

Cut to me taking a bath post movie, completely submerging my head, and successfully watering the harvest I had just planted. Not long after, s#$& started to hurt, almost like something was trying to sprout and root itself to my ear drum. I know, weird, right? I finally had to confess to my parents, and they took me to urgent care where the only thing accomplished was the doctor making my eardrum bleed. This clown concluded that my bath had “softened” the miniature replica of the “Signs” movie set I had built in the side of my head, and that it would probably just dissolve on it’s own.

Fast forward three days later (aka Christmas, can’t imagine why my parents were pissed off at me about all this) and apparently it’s harvest time, because it feels like someone is driving a tractor down my ear canal. My mom takes me to the ER where, yet again, nothing gets accomplished because anytime someone looks in the general direction of my ear (just looking, not inspecting, touching, examining, literally ) I scream like I’m being savagely beaten. They send me home, and make an appointment for me to see an ear, nose, and throat doctor two days later.

December 27th, 1997 is the day I now like to lovingly refer to as my “Exorcism Day” because apparently, the doctor at urgent care was right, my bath did soften the kernel, but instead of “dissolving” it, it just broke into pieces that were now rattling around in my head. It took four nurses to pin me down while this sadistic SOB ENT doctor shoved a camera and a vacuum down my ear, finally freeing the tiny pieces of kernel from the bastille that was my head. To the nurse I scratched and bit during my exorcism, sorry girl.

So there you have it, another tale to file away in the “But, like, Grace is actually the weirdest person I’ve ever met..” evidence box I’m sure you all keep, at least mentally. I’d also like to think that this incident is the reason I can’t really do a whole lot of math past a second/third grade level, but I’m no scientist.

The Things We’d Actually #ShareADietCoke With..

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It might shock you to discover that I am not someone who is all that impacted by the feel good campaigns that brands tend to run in order to make our world a better place*. Obviously I’m kidding about that shocking you, anyone who has spent more than a few minutes with me knows that unless it deals with animals, I don’t care, and more often than not perky ad campaigns will just leave me feeling nauseous.

Case in point: Coca Cola’s #ShareACoke campaign, which encourages consumers to Share a Diet Coke with BFF, VIP, a couple hundred really random first names, Mom, Dad, the winky “DTF? slash U Up?” emoticon etc. Maybe it’s because I never found my name (#StillBitter), or just because I find the premise ridiculous, but I’ve taken the liberty to compile a list of things that most people are more likely to #ShareADietCoke with.

#ShareADietCoke with Delusions of Grandeur

#ShareADietCoke with Your Abandonment Issues

#ShareADietCoke with Self Loathing

#ShareADietCoke with that “I forgot to take my Birth Control” Panic Attack

#ShareADietCoke with that Plan B Pill

#ShareADietCoke with those Wine Induced Texts You Sent Last Night

#ShareADietCoke with Your Hangover

#ShareADietCoke with Commitment Issues

#ShareADietCoke with Your False Sense of Entitlement 

#ShareADietCoke with That Think Piece You Just Read

#ShareADietCoke with Curated Social Media Accounts 

#ShareADietCoke with That Super Informative Buzz Feed Quiz You Just Took

#ShareADietCoke with the “Still Watching?” Message on Netflix

#ShareADietCoke with Sallie Mae

#ShareADietCoke with the Downfall of JCrew

#ShareADietCoke with Your Seamless Delivery Guy

#ShareADietCoke with that Person from High School you’re stalking on Social Media

#ShareADietCoke with Your Fleeting Mortality

#ShareADietCoke with Your Tinder Matches

Just kidding about that last one, you’re never sober around those!

*sell their products

A Few Choice Words regarding Kitten Heels..

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Where do they get off? Look, I get it, the fifty-something, sad divorcee crowd needs a shoe to cram their cankles into when they’re heading to their local California Pizza Kitchen for yet another E-Harmony date, but they have absolutely no business on the feet of any individual under the age of 45.

Kitten Heels were developed (by Lucifer) in the 1950’s, and since most fashion trends from that time period are dead, it’s pretty disturbing that people are still trying to pass them off as legitimate footwear. Also, the name couldn’t be any worse, I mean, Kitten Heels? The phrase makes my skin crawl, almost as much as the words “moist” and “panties” (don’t worry, that chill that just crawled up your spine? I felt it too).

One of the biggest arguments for Kitten Heels is made by tall girls who don’t want to tower over everyone around them, but still want to wear a heel and s#$%. Here’s a newsflash, if you’re already really tall, a couple inches added by a pair of pumps isn’t going to be something I notice. What I am going to notice is the creepy baby heels you’re wearing look like the should come with a complimentary set of varicose veins.

The other argument for these atrocities is that they are more comfortable than their taller, more legitimate counterpart. Guess what? Those blisters will fade, and chances are you’ll be too intoxicated to realize that they’re there until you sober up the next day, but do you know what won’t fade? Wearing shoes that make you look like the type of girl that claps and says “Yay!” when her pancakes arrive at brunch. Either way I’m going to be judging you, because you’re in Kitten Heels, and because we both know you consumed plenty of calories in liquid form the night before.

Some might say that my anger and disgust for Kitten Heels is excessive and misplaced, after all, “they’re just shoes.” If you’re spending your time psychoanalyzing my hatred for a particular genre of footwear, you should probably find a hobby, and then remember we’re discussing shoes that get their name from an animal that takes it’s s%&*$ in a box.

It takes a lot to get me to commit to something, and there aren’t that many cases in which I choose to do so. Exceptions include, my job, ordering iced coffee even when it isn’t seasonally appropriate, refilling my Adderall prescription, and avoiding the bars in my hometown like a rampant case of herpes when I’m visiting my parents.

There’s another area of my life I choose to make definite commitments in, and that’s footwear. There are heels, and then there are flats, heels are generally always appropriate, unless I’m scraping myself off of my bed on a Saturday morning long enough to go out and get food, then I’ll throw on a pair of flats. What I’m not going to do is put on a pair of shoes that make it look like I’m being held up by two infant thumbs, and you shouldn’t either.

Why Black is the Supreme of the Color Coven

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Unless you’ve been living under a rock since 2013, chances are you’ve heard of American Horror Story: Coven, even if you’ve never actually watched it. Arguably, Coven is the best season of Ryan Murphy’s AHS franchise, but I may be slightly biased because it combines a few of my favorite things, which include, but aren’t limited to, Jessica Lange smoking cigarettes, Jessica Lange drinking, sassy one liners, Jessica Lange rolling her eyes, and the color black.

For those who haven’t seen the show (get on that), here’s a quick rundown. Basically, young witches come into a “Coven” in New Orleans where they are introduced to the concept of a Supreme (aka Queen Jessica Lange). A Supreme is basically the HBIC of the Coven, and each generation a new one surfaces. The Supreme is generally discovered by her ability to perform the “Seven Wonders” which are essentially seven hard as s#$% witch tasks.

Anyone who has known me for any extended period of time knows how deep my love and devotion for the color black runs. It compliments my icy stare perfectly, and the fact that it matches everything means when it comes to putting together an outfit, it requires minimal effort, which I am 110% here for. As I was re-watching Coven last year in preparation to join my own Coven (meaning, I was going to see Fleetwood Mac at Madison Square Garden) I realized that the color Black is the true Supreme, because it totally performs all Seven Wonders. So, because I’m a sucker for slightly dated Pop Culture references, I decided to break it down for you.

Telekinesis (AKA Moving things with Your Mind): In my experience, nothing parts a group of tourists moseying down Broadway on a Saturday faster than a sensible all black getup and a stare that says “Your existence is making it extremely hard to tolerate being alive right now, please move.”

Concilium (AKA Controlling Someone Else’s Mind): The “Little Black Dress” is a thing for a reason. As his holiness Karl Lagerfeld once said, “One is never over-dressed or underdressed with a Little Black Dress.”

Transmutation (AKA Taking Another Form): Personally, when I’m wearing black (as in, 98% of my life) I’m able to feel more like Posh Spice, instead of like the sixth Spice Girl I usually feel like, someone who I’ve named, “Eleven Secret Herbs and Spice.” (For the record, yes, that was a KFC reference, don’t look at me).

Pyrokinesis (AKA Controlling Fire with Your Mind): See 3:05 in Taylor Swift’s “Bad Blood” music video.

Descensum (AKA Road Tripping to Your Personal Hell and Back): I perform this task every day when I take the 6 Train to and from work, but nothing makes me feel more protected from the woman across from me peeing her pants (yep, that happened) than being cloaked in licorice colored clothing.

Vitalum Vitalis (AKA Draining Your Life Force to Save Someone Else): Black keeps me honest, in the sense that while I’m wearing it, I find it easier to say things like “Put down that neon tote that says “Eat Cake for Breakfast” and walk away slowly” instead of “OMG that’s so totally you, you better buy it!”

Divination (AKA Seeing the Future): Anything worth buying is also worth buying in black, because no matter how many Pantone colors of the year come and go, black will always be in style.

Maybe these rambling comparisons only made sense to me, but black is near and dear to my heart, and no, not just because they’re the same color. To sum it all up, I’ll leave you with a quote that launched a thousand memes: “I’ll stop wearing black when they invent a darker color.”