December Birchbox

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I think I’m going to have to stop getting Birchbox. While a box of beauty surprises is oddly satisfying, after a year of getting them I now have eight thousand tiny samples of face masks and serums.

WHEN does one use a serum?? And I’m sure I’m supposed to be putting on face masks more often than I do (never).

In my mind I want to be that girl who skips around her apartment sipping rosé waiting for her mud mask to dry, her satin robe gliding off her newly dipped-in-lotion body. But the reality is I don’t wash my makeup off before bed. Yeah, I said it.

I guess the silver lining is that now my bathroom has a travel-size section, which is easily the best aisle of Walgreens anyway.

Just Let Me Love Britney

britneyI get it. Her public breakdown and love of going to Starbucks without a bra on makes her an easy target. And sure, she lip syncs.

Guess who doesn’t care? This bitch. Her body’s bangin’, her music is good, and when I went to her Vegas show (yes, I took the photo above) you know what she looked like? A god damn super star.

I’ve never seen a more amazing ass in my life. No joke, it was incredible.

 

Yes, Sam Is Short For Samantha

This is going to be hard for you to believe, but every time I introduce myself to a guy and say, “I’m Sam” they respond with, “Is that short for Samantha?”

Swear to God, 9 times out of 10. Next time someone says, “Hi, I’m Tom” I’m going to say, “I know this is extremely obvious, but is that by any chance short for Thomas?”

Plot twist! This all changed when an old man struck up a conversation with me in the Starbucks line this morning. You know how sometimes old people can say things to you and you’re left wondering if what they said was nice, or if they insulted you? This happened 12 times in the course of our brief conversation, ending with:

“I’m Jerry.”

“I’m Sam.”

“Your dad wanted a boy, huh?”

“…It’s actually short for Samantha.”