1. Drone camera so he can get those awesome aerial shots of you when you travel #instaboyfriend
  2. Dear Evan Hansen tickets because finally you won’t be the only one crying during a show
  3. A sassy card that he will (or will at least pretend to) appreciate
  4. Common Project sneakers that give his t-shirt and jeans uniform a sophisticated edge
  5. Tom Brady jersey because let’s face it: he really is the G.O.A.T.
  6. Bedsheets from Brooklinen because no boy ever has ever owned an extra set of sheets
  7. Tray table plus breakfast in bed. Feel free to Seamless because who are you kidding when you say you’re going to cook
  8. Apple TV so you can spend even more time Netflix and Chilling
  9. Harry’s subscription service even though you love his stubble
  10. All Saint’s sweater so he can stay warm when he’s doing #1 above
                 

  1.  Holiday gift pack of Jeni’s Splendid that you can share while watching Bridget Jones’ Diary for the millionth time
  2. Michele Watch which I’ve been eyeing for over a year
  3. A care package of her favorite Asian snacks because shrimp chips > Lays
  4. Monogrammed coffee mug
  5. Headphone splitter so you can finally both listen to Kanye at the same time
  6. Trendy workout leggings for the Equinox class she loves
  7. Gold rimmed agate coasters
  8. A piece of art from Society6 that she can liven up her room with
  9. A cool pair of silver sneakers
  10. Away carry on that she can use every time she visits you (which you wish was every week)

 

One time, due to the extreme emotional mood swings I get when I’m PMSing and on birth control, I cried at work because my breakfast place gave me potatoes with my eggs when I specifically said no potatoes. That pretty much summarizes my experience with the pill.

Crying because of potatoes, feeling bloated and gaining weight, and suffering from really bad anxiety when I’m PMSing have still never stopped me from taking that little monster of a contraceptive everyday for almost the last 8 years. Why? Because no one likes condoms.

(I obviously use them if I’m not in a monogamous, trusting relationship but that has been rare.)

So when I saw an ad for an app that relies on the calendar method, which I thought was literally guaranteed to get you preggers, it felt like God finally heard the prayers of me and all of womankind. Based on a study of over 40,000 women, Natural Cycles proved their app is just as effective as the pill. They give you a thermometer to more accurately track whether or not you need to use protection on a certain day and the chances of getting a “green” day when it’s actually “red” is less than .05% (even better than the pill in fact).

I did a lot of research before signing up since the consequences of this thing failing are obviously massive, but the evidence really does show that the app works. So much in fact that it has been approved by the European Union as a reliable form of birth control.

All I can say is Hallelujah. Praise Jesus. Amen.

I read this interesting article on The Cut the other day about the physical woes of anxiety. My therapist tells me that oftentimes the body is the first to recognize anxiety. Sometimes I don’t even have anything stressful on my mind and yet it feels like:

  • my chest is super tight, like my lungs are being squeezed in someone’s hands
  • my breathing is shallow
  • my hands are tingly and numb
  • and my head is heavy yet dizzy at the same time

I’ve heard from people who are less aware of the physical symptoms of mental illness that it’s all in your head, but what about when it’s not just your mind? What about when your body feels it too?

That’s why when I think about mental illness, I picture that the brain is not functioning at its healthiest capacity. Just as our world has blood disorders, liver disease, etc, it seems logical that the brain – the most complex organ of them all – wouldn’t work properly for every individual, right?

Maybe if we focus on how physical “mental” illness can be, the lucky ones without it might better understand why telling a depressed person to stop being sad is like telling a person with diabetes to lower their insulin levels. Maybe we should stop calling it a “mental” illness altogether and treat it with the same care and sympathy we give those with Alzheimer’s and other brain disorders.

I’m super excited to see Yayoi Kusama’s exhibition at the David Zwirner Gallery this weekend. I’ve been dying to experience Infinity Mirrors and since the artist is approaching her 90’s, this might literally be my last chance. The gallery’s doors open at 10am so I’m hoping that if I arrive at 9am, I’ll be one of the first inside.

This past week, I started working out and eating healthy again. I somehow gained 15 pounds this year (20 if you compare to my post break-up weight). Oh the wonders that a new relationship does to your body. Who needs a nice body when you have a nice boyfriend? Still debating whether I’d rather be happy and fat or anxious and skinny. In the meantime, I’m cutting out carbs and doing lots of SoulCycle and yoga. Wish me luck.