Science just validated my navel-gazing.

Check it out, y'all, I'm not even a narcissist. This blog is for SCIENCE.

Via Inc.com: The Mental Health Benefits of Writing, Backed by Science:

That's actually how the page started, as ersatz breakup therapy -- I thought I could just write my way sane. As it turns out, I needed REAL therapy, but am still a filthy whore for those red "like" notifications, and it definitely helps, so I kept it up. Along with a private journal. And a Twitter. And a new blog where I work clean so I can put it on my résumé.

Don't judge me. "I just have a lot of feelings."

Cool Girl's guide to holiday tEXting

It's probably a good, healthy step this long after a breakup to not wish each other Merry Christmas, not out of anger or spite, but because you're busy living your lives.

I mean, unless you're me, and will sit here stewing about it at the end of the day but not saying it first because you sent the last text yesterday, and you have too much pride to say it first because remember you said "Happy Thanksgiving" first?

Ahem. Not that that's happening... Because that would be lunacy. 

My wine and I are going to bed.

In which nothing you do matters if you're not married.

Dude, what the shit is wrong with you?! That girl is, like, 12 years old* and a floppity bajillionaire
megastar. Who gives one iota of one kitten's dick if she's not married? Jesus. You leave Katniss alone, Diane Sawyer!

  

"...This whole year of, ‘Who am I without these movies? Who am I without this man?'" Girl, preach. Let's get together and have coffee and braid each other's hair. We'll talk.

Speaking of hair, I should probably call my hairdresser right now and warn her that once I see Joy, I'm also going to hack my hair off with some raggedy scissors and then have her fix it. It seems fun and cathartic. Or I'm just a crazy celebrity copycat.

* OK, fine, she's 25 -- same difference. Clearly a spinster. Christ, I need more cats -- I'm totally behind here.

In which nothing you do matters if you're not married.

Dude, what the shit is wrong with you?! That girl is, like, 12 years old* and a floppity bajillionaire
megastar. Who gives one iota of one dick if she's not married? Jesus. You leave Katniss alone, Diane Sawyer!

  

"...This whole year of, ‘Who am I without these movies? Who am I without this man?'" Girl, preach. Let's get together and have coffee and braid each other's hair. We'll talk.

Speaking of hair, I should probably call my hairdresser right now and warn her that once I see Joy, I'm also going to hack my hair off with some raggedy scissors and then have her fix it. It seems fun and cathartic. Or I'm just a crazy celebrity copycat.

* OK, fine, she's 25 -- same difference. Clearly a spinster. Christ, I need more cats -- I'm totally behind here.