Things two glasses of wine, a cab ride, and Kelly Ripa can make you realize:

Ewan McGregror is really cute! But in happy way though, not, like, in a Joaquin Phoenix way. (Not that I would shake my stick at Joaquin or anything, but you know what I mean. He just seems so gosh darn nice!)

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Also, the fact that we now can watch TV in the backseat of a cab consistently makes me feel I’m the dad on The Jetsons. High-five technology!

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That explains it.

This song came on the stereo system at work yesterday and totally freaked me out. I haven’t heard it in YEARS but I used to listen to it constantly, as, like, a sixth grader in my skater jeans though I’ve never ridden a skate board in my life. I thought I was very cool, and very deep, sort of like a female tween version of Avery Barkley on Nashville. (I’m still pretty sure that listening to this song makes you deep. One can not hear it without feeling the urge to apply copious amount of eyeliner and eat an onion bagel.)

Clumsy by Our Lady Peace

Is this real life?

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Dear Emily and John,

Do you ever make pasta with on-sale Classico and then watch half an episode of The Mindy Project while writing thank you cards to your grandma?

Probs not.

I love you anyway.

-Caroline

Oh, Anne.

I haven’t even see Le Mis yet and I’m still in love with her.

In case you want to buy this dress while you’re out picking up eggs, Anne is wearing Victoria Beckham.

This is what being sick feels like.

And yes, I discovered this photo because I’ve been home from work, huddled in a blanket and watching mid-day re-runs of Sex and the City on E! for the past three days. But seriously, what is going on with this outfit Pat Field?? You’re making sick girls sicker.

The best Bella.

When I was growing up there was a movie theatre a few towns over called the Bijou. It was old and falling apart, had one screen, and played movies months past their release date for two dollars a ticket. Popcorn and drinks were a dollar. This is what the entrance looked like. (And yes, I had a very glamourous childhood.)

I saw countless movies at the Bij as a wee one and then as a pre-teen: Three Men and a Little Lady, Deep Impact, scary Glenn Close version of 101 Dalmations, etc., etc. The Bijou is also where I saw that American film masterpiece Notting Hill, which was on AMC last night, and which I am just now realizing has THE greatest underrated movie couple of all time in it: Will’s friends Max and Bella. I can totally remember sitting in that theatre, thirteen years old, my sneakers sticking to the soda-covered floor and looking up and thinking “F J-Rob and Hugh, break me off a piece of that when I’m older!” And because the internet loves us, there’s even a clip of the swoon-y scene that first made me fall in love them:

Swoon clip

Uh, that part when he takes Bella out of her wheelchair and carries her up the stairs and she laughs? Slays me every time. That silly guitar music doesn’t help matters either.

K, going to listen to that soundtrack and organize my pen collection now. Goodnight.

Just another burnt granola Monday.

For Christmas this year, I am making people mason jars filled with home-made granola, because who didn’t wish for a mason jar filled with home-made granola when they were a child, only to be wildly disappointed by Santa when they woke up with a Puppy surprise and/or bike instead? I think pretty much everyone, right? Yeah, it’s going to be amazing.

The problem is I’m having some issues with the execution. Tonight I spent almost two hours making granola, destroying my kitchen and stovetop with a trail of splattered ingredients, and then proceeded to burn both batches while I watched SNL on Hulu and ate the world’s most disgusting frozen pizza. I then stuffed my face with about seven fistfuls of charred oats, trying to convince myself that the flavor was “nutty” rather than “coal” and thus still giftable, but I have now come to terms with the reality of my botched night of cooking, and also with my severe stomachache. It’s Monday night, it’s raining, I have a room filled with empty mason jars….

This must be what Kate Middleton feels like right now. Child’s pose, here I come.