A List Of People I Am Mad At, 2/5/21
This newsletter is a weekly (sometimes) list of people I am mad at. This is the list for February 5, 2021.
None of my friends’ babies are old enough to admire me yet, they just ask me to open veggie-chip bags and think I’m tall. I’m like a snack tree to them. Have some respect.
Ben Affleck. He is ruining Dunkies for me.
I got a truly heinous haircut last week and now I look like Christina Ricci in Monster.
I texted my book editor a children’s book idea about a dog and tarantula who become friends and start solving crimes but she still hasn’t answered me. I know that she “has two children to take care of during a pandemic” or whatever but look, these ideas aren’t going to wait around for you to load your kids in the laundry or whatever. Answer your phone!
My woo-woo friends did not tell me that Mercury is in retrograde for most of the month and I don’t understand why. Is Mercury paying them? Did they want me to suffer without knowing why? What are they getting out of this silence, other than letting me get a 𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔠𝔲𝔱 during r҉e҉t҉r҉o҉g҉r҉a҉d҉e҉!!!!
My gynecologist stood me up twice for my appointment yesterday and my friend told me that maybe it was because “[my] vagina isn’t a priority right now.” How dare you. If you were my real friend, you would know that absolutely everything that happens to me is an emergency. For this, they’re both on the list.
The last few weeks have been so bad that I had to Google what to write in a sympathy card because I ran out of stuff to say. Turns out you can’t write any variation of “ahaha fuck” or “ruh-roh” or “this resolutely does not slap.”
I kept having to think about the words “Jon Kay dog shampoo.” I know that might seem like I’m mad at Jon, but using dog shampoo for an indeterminate amount of time seems like punishment enough. Get well soon.
I went into an Urban Outfitters in midtown and almost screamed when I saw they were selling those awful little shoulder bags that used to be popular when I was in the eighth grade, along with Aaliyah sweatshirts in the “vintage band” section. I screamed and got out of there before an employee asked me if I was a piece of the Museum of National History that just got lost.
I’m turning 30 on Sunday and I think my targeted Instagram ads know because it’s all retinols, $70 vibrators, and Babybjorns from here on out. Fuck!
I didn’t write much this week, but this explainer of what’s going on with the farmer protest in India is well worth your time. Then, you can read this report from the ground in Delhi. I hope you can give this story a bit of your time today and every day until there’s justice.