Why, hello. Lately I’ve been swept up in a whirlwind of baking, brunches, and… budgeting (eek). What with all the responsibilities of Adult Life, this has been shaping up to be a relatively lackluster winter season. This coming week, however, I’ll be back in my hometown, where I dare not open a single spreadsheet or bank account statement. Instead, I will be lounging around my parents’ house in my jammies and slippers: blaring obnoxious Christmas carols, swigging peppermint hot chocolate by the pint, willfully ignoring the siren call of my unfinished grad school applications, and embracing the sweet, temporary, guiltless freedom of paid vacation time. HAPPY HOLIDAYS, Y’ALL!
Longreads’ 10 best articles. Lady friends, the first one is an absolute must-read.
How to pluralize last names. Spoiler alert: do not use apostrophes.
Mobile health excludes women.
A 4-year-old reviews Chez Panisse.
Art history hath taught us: no scrubs.
Colbert breakin’. The Report will be missed.
Ayn Rand reviews children’s movies.
Scratch everything else on my to-make list: this chicken is next.
… And, musically? This time of year always sees Sufjan on heavy rotation. So perfect.
… BUT if I’m going to be completely honest with you… this is what I’ve been playing on repeat over the past 2 weeks. As I make progress professionally, it seems, I regress emotionally. You should see the rest of my playlist nowadays. I’ve got the sonic inclinations of a teenybopper. For what it’s worth, though, I dig Becky G’s story as much as I do her music. I love her hoodrat-from-Inglewood, self-starter-at-sixteen, boss-bitch vibe. Girlz run the world.