Chelsea Fagan

It’s magical. You are radiating your usual stink lines of reservation and judgment, when all of a sudden someone even passingly mention something that sounds like a food, and you transformed into a beauty pageant contestant.

The Morning Commute Hottie is a quiet one, categorized only by his choice of newspaper for his daily read. Is he more of a Wall Street Journal bro, or a Village Voice stud? (Just kidding, no one with a job reads The Village Voice.)

People have cellulite, they have stretch marks, they have birthmarks, they have rolls and bumps and dimples and wrinkles. And those are all perfect bodies, because they do their job and work for us and let us cuddle with each other when we need to be held.

X amount of people have gotten engaged, X amount are still single, am I normal? It’s a very embarrassing, base train of thought, and I always talk myself out of it in a few minutes.

We give men a lot of shit for how much they focus on sex, and that undoubtedly has more than a few grains of truth to it, but it’s time to own up to the kind of chillingly graphic sex talk that occurs after a few drinks at a table full of women.

We know that looks aren’t important, but we still dress a certain way for a job interview or a date. It isn’t important, but it is.

Oh, yeah, of course I know that you were at that party I wasn’t invited to last weekend… I spent a full 45 minutes looking at the pictures one by one as they appeared on my news feed, becoming increasingly indignant and self-conscious as the clock ticked by.

And even more tragically, all of the things that we are able to appreciate about the lives of others, because we might not have them ourselves, are the things that are most easy to take for granted.

I think that people start caring about us when we stop caring about them, as sick as it is. We move up and down in these odd games of power, and learn quickly that while some people are dependent on our approval, others are completely unconcerned with our opinion of them.

Being cheated on makes you look at more questions than you would ever have willingly asked yourself.

Unfortunately, for those who clearly went to the Compliment Into The Cooter School of Sexual Prowess, we are not items on a Chuck E Cheese prize shelf which can be handed off with the right amount of flattery tickets.

We know that if we eat whole, clean, nutritionally dense foods, we will feel better.

They always love us, even when we don’t deserve it. Their hearts know no limit to the amount of attention or affection someone should get, and they are made almost entirely of joy and anticipation.

Not specifying to the waiter that you just want regular tap water and then having to pay for this absurd bottle of precious mineral water harvested from the morning dew in Ryan Gosling’s private wildflower garden.

All of the new products and ideas for getting young girls interested in the STEM fields and out of restrictive gender norms, such as Roominate.

When you hear the word hissed across a bar as another girl parades by in a red dress and full confidence, it is not really this woman that the speaker hates. It is herself.

You essentially take a long walk off a short pier of respectful, timely communication and sequester yourself into a love-cave to grow a sex-beard à la Rip Van Winkle.

Becoming more acutely aware of how precious all the time you have with your older family members is, and how not a single day with them is guaranteed.