I Can't, Vol. 47

As I sit here, going to town on a vanilla-flavored Greek yogurt decked in Nature Valley's Cinnamon Crunch granola, all I can think about is how I'd rather have 100 other things for breakfast. Like, say, an egg sandwich. Or an everything bagel slathered inappropriately with whipped cream cheese. Or a Whataburger taquito (potato, duh). Alas, beggars can't be choosers (bitch, this ain't Chipotle) (but how I wish it was). How's everyone been? Good? Great. I've been lagging on here lately — I suppose I just haven't been inspired or in the word vomit mood. However, I woke up this morning with the urge to share pointless opinions with anyone who willingly subscribes to my bullshit, so here goes nothing with volume 4fucking7.

I can't...

believe the first words out of my mouth to my gynecologist during my first ever exam when I was 18 years old were: "Is this what sex feels like? Because if so, I'm NEVER having it." They laughed heartily while reassuring me it most definitely DOES NOT. Their claims wouldn't come to fruition for another two years.

I can't...

forgive myself for not buying this top last Saturday while at Anthropololgie when everything was 30% off. I let my sister convince me it wasn't cute, as sisters will do. And now I can't stop thinking about it. If anyone hears miraculously of some sort of Anthro sale, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. Maybe I'll buy you one, too.

I can't...

get enough of my favorite comedian, Lauren Lapkus, and her rise to fame. I've plugged her podcast on my blog several times and was devastated to hear it's on hold until March. That was until I learned it's because she landed a role in a new Will Ferrell/John C. Reilly comedy and is filming in London until then! GOOD FOR YOU, LOLOLAPLAP. YOU GO, LOLOLAPLAP. But really. She is a comedic genius, and I feel like a verklempt Jewish mother when I hear good news about her because I'm just so pregnant with emotion every time.

I can't...

even handle all the Christmas decor in my house right now. I feel confident in saying you will probably never meet another Jewish person who gets this excited about Jesus' birthday. Look. My family is 110% Jewish. As far as I know, there isn't a drop of any other kind of blood in us. However, we were raised observing Christmas because my mom LOVES. TO. DECORATE. You think you're gonna take the happiest, most festive holiday of the year away from her and her enviable and inspiring decorating capabilities? HA. I think NOT. Therefore, I have grown my own personal Christmas decor collection over the years, and as I was placing it out last night, realized how legit it's become. Behold, my confusingly intricate baubles. I swear it's magical in person. Come over for a cup of hot cocoa+peppermint schnapps and see for yourself.

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I can't...

accurately carry-on enough about how my new coffee setup at home. Last week, my pathetic and slightly embarrassing Mr. Coffee auto-drip carafe cracked for a third time (serves me right), so I decided it was time to move on entirely and try out a new at-home coffee method. Years ago, I dabbled in French Press but couldn't seem to get it down pat. Well, after getting inspired by a few snapchats, google searches, and reviews, I decided to take the plunge and be that person with their own coffee bean grinder, french press, and above-average coffee beans. Y'all. YOU. ALL. I'm still getting the bean to water ratio figured out to my liking, but so far, this has been an incredibly magical experience. Not only is grinding the beans an absolute joyride, but the entire process is calming, delightful, and produces that smoothest cup of coffee I've ever made under my own roof. If you're looking to make the switch, I highly suggest it. COFFEECOFFEECOFFEE.

I can't...

wait every winter to make my favorite soup EVER. I may have posted about this last year and, if I did, SORRY. But if you need a break from chicken noodle and want something just a little different, try this Turkey Orzo soup. It's simple AF, so delicious, and makes a butt load (in fact, I usually cut it in half cause, ya know, #dinnerforone). The lemon juice makes this soup, so don't skimp on it. In fact, add a bit more if you please and thank me later.

I can't...

believe this, and I am so sorry in advance for perhaps ruining your day but I can't be alone in this horrible news, so here goes: I found out yesterday that the steak roll-ups from Zoe's Kitchen are 980 calories. Yes, you read that number right. 980. Nine hundred and eighty calories. For THOSE. For wimpy little tortillas filled with thin ass strips of steak, melted cheese, and grilled onions. COOL. DID YOU KNOW THAT YOU CAN A REASONABLY LOADED CHIPOTLE BURRITO FOR LESS CALORIES AND WAY MORE FLAVOR AND HAPPINESS? Beans, salsas, RICE, way better quality meat, corn, and SO MUCH MORE FOR SO MUCH LESS. This is why I NEVER stray. Never again, Zoe's. Never again.

I can't...

do Instagram stories ever again. I KNOW I've gone back and forth, but the week before Thanksgiving was my final attempt to fucks with it and I am done. After taking several polls, enough of my favorite and most trusted social media gurus were steadfast in their "FUCK IG, SNAPCHAT FOREVER" responses, so I had my answer. Sure, I get double the views on Instagram, but it just feels wrong. And the fact that the timer on pictures isn't adjustable really grinds my gears. Plus, authentic, in-the-moment posts are WHAT SNAPCHAT IS FOR. And lastly, filters. Duh. So, in conclusion, bye forever, IG stories. And follow me on Snapchat (username: icantemma).