Blood is thicker than water but maple syrup is thicker than blood so technically pancakes are more important than...
That honestly could not have gone any better.
You’ve never heard someone be so enthusiastic about time management skills as I just was.
Writing your own farewell email from your boss to the rest of the floor feels like writing your own obituary.
After I went into therapy, a process that made it possible for me to tell total strangers at cocktail parties that breasts were the hang-up of my life, I was often told that I was insane to have been bothered by my condition. I was also frequently told, by close friends, that I was extremely boring on the subject. And my girl friends, the ones with nice big breasts, would go on endlessly about how their lives had been far more miserable than mine. Their bra straps were snapped in class. They couldn’t sleep on their stomachs. They were stared at whenever the word “mountain” cropped up in geography….it was much worse for them, they tell me. They had a terrible time of it, they assure me. I don’t know how lucky I was, they say.
I have thought about their remarks, tried to put myself in their place, considered their point of view. I think they are full of shit.
I hate my purse. I absolutely hate it. If you’re one of those women who think there’s something great about purses, don’t even bother reading this because there will be nothing here for you. This is for women who hate their purses, who are bad at purses, who understand that their purses are reflections of negligent housekeeping, hopeless disorganization, a chronic inability to throw anything away, and an ongoing failure to handle the obligations of a demanding and difficult accessory (the obligation, for example, that it should in some way match what you’re wearing)……
This is for women who find it appalling that a purse might cost five or six hundred dollars - never mind that top-of-the-line thing called Birkin bag that costs ten thousand dollars, not that it’s relevant because you can’t even get on the waiting list for one. On the waiting list! For a purse! For a ten-thousand-dollar purse that will end up full of old Tic Tacs!
Nora Ephron, “I Hate My Purse”,I Feel Bad About My Neck and Other Thoughts on Being a Woman.
Oh hi, Nora. New best friend.
This. Yes. Lena Dunham Remembers Nora Ephron : The New Yorker (via bbook)
#1. More important Nora stuff.
#2. Lena Dunham is honestly a damn fine writer.