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just words.

January 23, 2014

i read a lot of magazines.  ok, i used to read a lot of magazines before i stopped going to the gym like a supermodel before nyfw.  now, my magazines are like little coffee tables and ottomans, stacked in nice little piles with a flowerless vase on top.  but what i’ve learned from being a magazine hoarder over the years is that those pages are teeming with useless but ok sounding advice.  little single girl mantras and perky saccharine cheers.  but, in practice, those words are pretty hollow.

stop wasting time becoming who you think he wants you to be and just be you!

unless you is a person who clips her toenails in public.  wish glamour would chastise those little hell raisers and not me.  seriously, flying toenails are a lot worse in the grand scheme of things than chugging beer just because he always wanted you to be “one of the guys.”

take up a new hobby and fill your days with meaningful activities – your spirit will reflect your awesomeness!

you’re telling me my countenance will shine just a bit brighter because i learned to crochet kitten mittens?  put down the carrot juice and the glycolic resurfacing pads, all happiness requires is an hour at yarn barn.

he’s not worth your time anyway!

right, but neither is slogging through page after page on match.com.  or doing crunches just to look good for beach season.  i do it all.  just to waste time, apparently.

kim kardashian does 100 squats each morning – put in the time and you too will attract a super cranky but equally rich, saggy leather pants-wearing rap mogul! 

why, oh why?

the purrfect cat eye!

i see what you did there, you clever little women’s magazine minx.  and i’m on board.

i’m not against women’s magazines.  in fact, i’m very pro women’s magazines.  i think they’re delightful.  and ikea will soon be out of business thanks to my coffee table/ottoman setup.  i guess my fear is that we diminish everything.  it’s hard to make friends, it’s hard to find the love of your life, it’s hard to achieve that perfect cat eye swoosh.  but to bash women for looking or trying or to laud women for not giving a flying function about love and life just seems dangerous.  i don’t want to change myself – i just want to be better.  i will not be validated by a man.  but i sure as hell will not be validated by a glossy magazine either.  unless said validation has something to do with why navy is the new black.  in that case, consider me in.

editor’s note:  this entire post was precipitated by a heated, tear-streaming argument with my mom when she told me to take cooking classes in an effort to meet people.  i snarkily replied that i didn’t think learning to julienne vegetables would help me.  if glamour ever writes an article about fights with your mom, i sure hope they consult me for worthless but witty comebacks.  winning at a losing game, folks.

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