Chelsea Fagan

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Allie in The Notebook, because that bitch was given the choice between a rich, doting James Marsden in a military uniform and sweatily hot Ryan Gosling who built her a house.

Saying your name unexpectedly at the end of a sentence, especially in that lower register where you can tell they’re being more serious than usual.

You can’t be wearing the kinds of Forever 21 jersey sacs that pill into oblivion within two hours of wearing them. You have to be flawless, and that costs money.

It got to the point I was afraid to leave the house. Men became so aggressively ‘friendly’ and I was constantly being approached.

Ignoring the unconditional love that people who treat you well — whether a partner, family, or good friends — because you’re too caught up in getting the approval of people who ignore you.

I’ll leave it up to you to decide for yourself.

Going on service trips in college and making your profile picture you, smiling, surrounded by a bunch of half-naked children of various ethnicities.

Sit in a strange position when farting, so the fart bubble does not go up the cooter.

If you take a phone call when you come up to the cash register — or god forbid, actually hold up the ‘one-minute’ finger to the cashier so you can finish what you’re saying while they try to keep the line moving — you are a huge asshole and I hope you get shortchanged every time you buy something.

In fact, we are granted a lot of fucking privileges for being white women — arguably, we even hold them where a white MAN would not.

These are the kinds of women you fall in love with, they tell us. The ones who are complete and whole on their own, who do not need your individual affection because they know that they already have the world’s.

You get really stressed out about what you’re going to wear around them.

I watch a lot of tortoise sex youtube clips. I think their grunting is hilarious. I also have illustrated it in series of watercolor paintings…

We know you learned that shit in a book, because it is not the kind of behavior a human being would ever naturally engage in without explicit instruction.

If you never fully let go, it’s almost like it’s never really over. Right?

You bump into an end table on the way out the door and you briefly stop to say “excuse me,” because you wouldn’t want that end table to think that you were the kind of rude homeowner who doesn’t care about his or her furniture.

When you meet someone for the first time, realize that you know nothing about them. You see race, gender, age, clothes. Forget it. You know nothing.