Nico Lang

“Did you hear that Ashton Kutcher cheated on his wife? What a slut.”

We look at this time in our lives as this point where we are infinitely uncertain and are still figuring ourselves out, where we are expected to try everything and make every mistake.

When someone wants to tear apart my writing — because I had the gall to suggest that society is racist or sexist — they often bring up my presumed gender to do so. I’m interpellated as “that girl,” “a chick on the internet.”

When you’re on a date, just pretend you’re the only two people in the world. It’s more romantic that way.

Bridget Jones is my spirit animal. I feel like I get her in ways I’m not supposed to understand movie characters.

People tell you what a great couple you’d make, and you can’t help but laugh a little. It’s not that sort of thing, but what is it exactly?

“I use it when I’m swimming, riding a horse, walking on the beach and doing yoga. It’s comfortable, leak-proof, non-slip and it makes me feel so feminine and pretty!”

Do something nice for someone else — the kind of favor you might not see returned.

Whenever someone breaks up with you or one of your friends does something really cartoonishly terrible, your immediate consolation is that this is going to make for a great essay.

“We were drunk, and it was a mistake.”

Although I have had plenty of The Ones Who Will Be Different, I’ve had more of the first variety — the three bad dates guy.

Do I want to be one of those people who’s an “expert” on Marcel Proust and can wax nostalgic about trudging through all 4,211 pages of his greatest series?

Getting semi-threatening messages from OKCupid.

She often kept out of the public eye, especially when partying, so Buffy “wouldn’t be seen with a drink in her hand.”

You still don’t understand how LMFAO or Skrillex qualify as music. It just sounds like dying.

Giggle alert: the infamous sex scene between Mila Kunis and Natalie Portman transpires at the 69-minute mark.

Strike up a conversation with a stranger.

In the case of “Zombie,” no one really knows more than ten words to it, anyway, so as long as you can shout “Zombay-ay-ay!” and “In your head! In your hay-ay-ay-ead!,” you’re more than in.