I Can't, Vol. 48
I wish I could churn out "I Can'ts" all the time, because I know you guys love them. However, sometimes the lag between them is necessary in order to give myself time to get really perturbed by various things before I realize, "OMG, all these annoyances would be perfect 'I Can'ts'!" In short, I feel this latest batch were worth waiting for so enjoy. I can't...
when you have those days that are overrun by OCD and you end up purging as much excess as possible from your life and it's pretty much the best feeling ever. That was yesterday for me. I spent MLK day ridding myself of shit I don't need, which I feel is something he'd approve of. I started with my closet, wiping out so many cheap XXI dresses and shoes I haven't let grace my feet since I can't remember when and ended up filling five bags. I then made stops at two different second-hand stores, made enough money to cover lunch & a mustache wax and had an extra $50 leftover for my thirsty bank account. I then proceeded to empty out my car's glove box and middle console, tearing up about 100 random receipts and bullshit. Next were my bar's drawers, which were chockfull of toothpicks (???), dead batteries, greeting cards, and about 600 koozies. I changed the air filter via my attic (which I always hate doing), purged my desk drawer (also full of greeting cards and various notebooks I've never written in), and ended my day of OCD productivity by filing (literally filing) some things away. I feel alive, y'all. Alive and in order.
I can't...
with how fucking accurate this is. It describes 3/4 of the men I've romantically encountered in my life. And Trump. Yes, the two share this description. SAD!
I can't...
and I know some of you may hate me for this, but I CAN'T with Emma Stone right now. Maybe later, but not right now. Not with where she's at or how she looks. I used to love this girl. Like, a lot. "Super Bad" Emma and "Crazy Stupid Love" Emma were the best Emmas. But, y'all — methinks she's turning into my next Anne Hathaway and it's really disconcerting. She's becoming Hollywood's sweetheart, theatre nerd who seems to be just a bit too affected. And I'm not trying to hate on my own gender, I'm really not. But have y'all seen "La La Land"? Did you see Emma? Probably not because she's so thin, she completely evaporates if she turns to the side. I'm not saying that makes her a shitty person — it's genuinely concerning and freaks me out. Truly, it distracted me for almost the entirety of "La La Land" (but not enough to notice that Ryan is perfect and the ultimate scene-stealer). I need someone to hook her up to a cheeseburger IV, feed her bottomless milkshakes, give her Kalteen bars, and call me in the morning (but not before 9. I can't talk until I've had my coffee).
I can't...
tell whether or not the amount of times I switch positions in my chair at work is normal. Has anyone taken note of how often they're shifting around because I'm a little worried my count is abnormal. It feels like I'm moving from two feet on the ground to legs crossed to right leg tucked up under my left thigh to both legs criss-crossed to spread eagle 50x every hour. WHAT'S GOING ON? AM I OKAY?
I can't...
say enough about this dish from Inspiralized. It's a sweet potato noodle and brussel sprouts "bowl," and it. is. DELICIOUS. It's one of my weeknight go-tos because it's incredibly fast and simple. Pseudo-chef's notes: I add ground turkey along with the sweet potato noodles for protein, I have never used sesame seeds or pomegranates, and I realized while making it last night that I didn't have maple syrup but the sauce was still SO GOOD. Maybe even better without? If you like super healthy dishes that tastes like Asian fusion in your mouth — this is the dish for you.
I can't...
with this one grey hair that I just noticed sticking STRAIGHT UP, right in front of everything. Awesome.
I can't...
productively work to anything but jazz and if you're the same, my reco to you would be the Oscar Peterson station via Spotify radio. Lemme know if you dig it.
I can't...
seem to stop rewatching The Office, and it's beocming a problem. I think I'm on my third go-round now? I do this with shows. I find an older one I didn't really watch when it was live and end up obsessing over it to the point of restarting it over and over and over. Don't get me wrong — having Angela and Dwight and Jim and Pam and Michael and Andy and everyone in my life, in my living room at all times is a dream. I just don't know what I'm going to do once I grow tired of it, and I need suggestions. HELP! Also this.
I can't...
figure out if this little attachable aerator makes that much of a difference with my glass of wine, but it's fun to pretend it does and it creates the illusion that I actually know what I'm doing re: wine. It's cheap and works great and easy to use, so if you are into this sort of thing, here. P.S. That's not my hand.
I can't...
and am not sure when I'll able to stop singing Hamilton. Guys, it's a problem. A big one. Because not only does it make me want to see it 100 more times, but it also makes me that annoying, white, theatre-loving girl who can't stop talking about Hamilton. The good news is I don't offer up that I got to see it unless it comes up naturally. I keep that humble brag to myself in conversation. The bad news is that, during the big game on Sunday when the entire bar was cheering, I took those moments as my chance to sing lyrics like "THOMAS JEFFERSON'S COMING HOMEEEEE" or "WHY DO YOU WRITE LIKE YOU'RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME?" loudly because no one could hear me. To my fellow Hamilton-obsessed: when does it end? Does it ever end or is it... NON-STOP?
xox,
