17 Unconventional Things I'm Thankful For

Every year, I do a "what I'm thankful for" Thanksgiving post. Because it seems like the right thing to do, no? I mean if ever there was a time of year to reflect on what you're grateful for in life rather than what you wish you had or wish was different, Thanksgiving is def it. Sure, the entire concept of sitting down to basically write out a PROS/CONS list of my life and only post the PROS seems amateur, expected, and a bit silly. But, because it's so sickeningly easy to get caught up in the minute day-to-day bullshit that leaves you with stress headaches, empty bottles of wine, and angry pimples, it's sort of nice to pause for a minute to remember things that don't make us want to hide in our bedrooms and only come out when we're promised pizza, wine, and a 2015 version of Prince Charming (pays for meals and insists on orally pleasuring you until succession every time). So, at this juncture in life, I am thankful for...

Sleep masks, for sure. Have you ever really given one a go? Not just as a joke or because you got it as a present and felt bad about what a terrible present it was so you felt obligated to try it at least once? Legit sleep masks are, well, legit. Sure, they may leave indents on your face (I think I need to loosen mine?), but I'll be damned if they don't block out that over zealous morning sun and keep you sleeping soundly until your alarm ruins everything. 

Shout stain remover. No, really. I've been using this shit since I started doing my own laundry, and it truly is a clothes-saver. And a life-saver. If my clothes were helplessly stained, I'd have less of a social life than I have now.

Spotify. Why has everything so far started with "S"? But, for real. Spotify. If you still don't have Spotify, you're not someone I'm interested in spending time around. For a mere $10 a month, you can listen to PRACTICALLY ANYTHING EXCEPT TAYLOR SWIFT OR ADELE BECAUSE ONE'S A GREEDY INSECT AND THE OTHER IS A CLASSY BROAD. 

The Southwest Rapid Rewards VISA. With the destinations Southwest now flies to, who wouldn't own this credit card and charge their entire life to it in order to fly for free? WHO, I ASK YOU. WHO.

My pizza pajamas. Because, come on. 


Best friends. The types of best friends who live by the golden rule of liking every single one of your posts no matter if they actually like it or not. They know it's code and they abide by it. Through thick and filters, amirite?

Being lucky enough to have a passion I can use to pay the rent. No, not writing my blog (some day). Just writing, in general. In all forms. In all shapes and sizes. I love it. I feel it. I can do it and it keeps me off the streets — EVERYBODY WINS!

Tinder. It's given me invaluable stories for my future book. Stories that, although horrifying to actually live through, will hopefully make me money some day. Stories that made me cry once, could possibly make me cry again on a really bad day, but ultimately, will make me and anyone who hears them laugh. 

BBG. And Kayla Itsines who created BBG. I don't care what none of y'all say, she gave a gift to a world of frustrated women when she created her workout regime and shared it with us all. I won't get on a soapbox about it today, but it's amazing. It works. I'm halfway through my second round. And I feel fitter and stronger every day. Think about it.


Text abbrevs. Like idk wtf you're talking about rn. Tbh, it's freaking me out. And imho, you need help. Or just ky.

The power to go to bed early AF and not care. It took me a while — I was a night owl for a very long time. But, within the past year, I had to train myself to get up for the gym in the mornings. This meant also training myself to get to bed earlier. With determination, a sleep mask, a white noise machine, sometimes rain sounds on Spotify, and a milligram of Ativan, I discovered a 10pm bed time IS possible!

My security mirror at work. For someone like me who scares so easily (and loudly), this was a necessary purchase and has stepped up my cubicle game in a big way. It's like the mafia mirror — I see all. No one can whack me from behind.

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My sister. Corny, I know. But true. Who else can I love and hate within the same breath? With who else can I discuss the most disgusting of the disgusting things? Who else might get annoyed with outfit pictures I send on the daily but knows I'll never stop, no matter how much she hates it? Who else?

Tupperware. How would I do life without it? It terrifies me to imagine.

Makeup. It's all nice and good when guys are like "I don't like a lot of makeup." Because, like, same. But allow me to explain: that look you've grown to love so much — the fresh, smooth, subtly rosy-cheeked, au naturale look? — is achieved by the lightest touch of makeup. So the correct sentiment is "I like a girl with very minimal makeup on. Just enough that it enhances her already natural beauty." 

Drake. Yeah, I said it. I'd be more thankful if he loved me, but there's still time for all that.

Bridget Jones's Diary. Because it never gets old. Never. Not even for a second. Some people consider "Elf" or "Love Actually" their designated Christmastime movies, but watching Bridge consider 136 pounds heavy, sleep with her boss, and choose Chaka Khan and vodka... well. #spiritanimal seems appropriate here.

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My readers who get me. There are a strong handful of you. Some of you have reached out to me, others are hiding, and that's okay. You don't have to say you love me for me to know — I know. And I appreciate you all, truly. Sometimes, I don't know how I even have an audience. Other times, I get it. But mostly, I just wanted to thank you (whoever "you" may be) for giving me a reason to keep at this blog. I know I can come off like I'm into myself, but my argument for that is — wouldn't you be? Just kidding. On the real, I'm all I have right now. I'm not dating. I'm very much in the reset and rediscover area of my life. I'm all about that self love — owning every cute outfit I don, taking myself on dates, focusing on ME and what is it that makes EMMA happy (i.e. not guys who ask me to buy them burgers or suggest I plan our second date and pay for him on said second date, too). I get down. Really down. In fact, today I'm down. Against my best efforts, I've let the onslaught of engagements and "Oh that's her new boyfriend. It was the first guy she met on Bumble, ever, and that was that!" bring me way, way, way down. If this were another blog entry, I'd rant about it longer but I won't. Not here, not today. I'll just say, again —THANK YOU. Hearing from any of you in any capacity makes my day, so never hesitate to reach out or assume that we'd be best friends, because I have my own running list of "would be BFFs," too! (Mindy, Broad City bitches, Lauren Lapkus and her entire improv group, Amy Schumer, obviously JLaw...)

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving; eat until you hate yourself, maybe try to work in some exercise where you can, go shopping, see some movies, and spend your time off around people you actually give a shit about. It makes the holidays that much better.