Emchap's Shit from the Internet 3/1/17 🍠
I was reduced to like weird couch sadness sobs like four times this week and it was STILL AN IMPROVEMENT on recent weeks, so, things are looking up.
Shit to read
Holy shit, have you read Shrill? Like, obviously it was going to be good, but it was GOOD. I don't normally cry at personal essay books but three separate essays in this book reduced me to complete, blubbering, gasping-for-air sobs. Go read it immediately.
After you read that, go read this Ask Polly about whether the letter writer is pretty. Polly's conclusion that when the reader asks about prettiness she's asking about permission to be in the world is fucking gutting.
This Modern Love (I know) about the great romance of a friendship between an old lady and her novelist friend dude is, like, better than the Guy in Your MFA vibe that that pitch suggests. I liked it a lot.
Man Repeller's riff on not washing your hair had me crying laughing.
I eventually gave away the dress I wore to my mother's memorial service to a friend because it always, always felt strange to wear it after. Laura Turner (sister of Mallory Ortberg) writes compellingly about the clothing of grief.
Shit to eat
Get a highball glass, one of these from Sweethome. (They really are as great as the review says.)
Salt the rim. Grind up the salt using the fancy salt grinder you bought a few weeks ago. Feel very adult.
Realize that the recipe you're looking at involves fresh juice and seltzer and throw it away do your own shit.
Pour two teaspoons of Pom juice (which, remember when that was first a Thing? Oh god.) into your glass.
Add a quarter cup of Ting, which, despite its "twist off" lid labeling, you have to use a bottle opener on.
Add a little bit more because the original recipe calls for a quarter cup of soda plus two teaspoons of grapefruit juice and another of sugar and you don't even know.
Add a quarter cup of tequila.
Add three ice cubes, the ones that don't have inexplicable cilantro on them, where is it coming from.
Stir it up with a fork. (It's clean.)
Drink, on your couch, while watching 30 Rock, and have startlingly vivid sense memories of drinking a watermelon margarita on a bar stool in Culver City before meeting friends a year ago.
Shit to listen to
My new personal #aesthetic is this pop-ass music video about a deeply ain't-shit dude.
Shit to buy
Revlon Balm Stain in Crush. It doesn't have that horrible fake mint flavor like the matte balms and the glosses in the same line do (which why they taste like Maxalt and so my associative brain makes me want to puke when I put them on my mouth) and the stain lasts and you will like cute af.
You deserve a jump suit. It's $20.
This is a hand mixer and it is a cheerful green color and I have been eyeing it for months. Make better choices than me.