I Can't, Vol. 20

Volume 20... maybe. Because honestly, at this point, I have no idea how many things I've stated that "I Can't." 

icant

I can't...

with turtlenecks in general, but ESPECIALLY 90s-looking turtlenecks. And EVEN MORE especially with 90s-looking turtlenecks layered with leather jackets. Just stop.

I can't...

if anyone still owns and sports True Religion jeans.

I can't...

with how fucking snotty my last two "I Can'ts" just sounded.

I can't...

but I can.

I can't...

get enough of White Russians during the winter months, and I'm not just saying that to be all #thedude. People who don't enjoy a finely made White Russian must not know what true happiness tastes like.

TheDude_WhiteRussian

I can't...

believe i'm saying this, but since I'm back in the cubicle grind, I'm back on morning oatmeal. I know. Gross. However, the new Chex brand oatmeal isn't so bad. Sprinkle some sliced almonds in that hoe and you got yerself a balanced, hearty pile of hot mush.

I can't...

quiet my walking. It's sort of why I don't wear heels too often, but that's also because I actually enjoy being shorter and choose to embrace it rather than create an illusion to mask it.

I can't...

believe I'm gonna say this but, a week into my new gig, I'm getting used to waking up early. GASP. I know. I feel like someone should make a celebratory sprinkle cake or something.

cake

I can't...

handle that cake. If I don't have it in front of me in real life before I die, I will die way too early and so unhappy.

I can't...

learn to love Nutella. No, I'm not a psycho. I'm just a girl who doesn't particularly enjoy creamy hazelnut stuff the way other girls do. Anyway, I feel like the Nutella craze is over, no? I haven't seen or heard much about it lately. I think people have worked their way out of the overly rich jar of goop and onto bigger and most likely better things. Like donuts. Or kale. Or some other current, annoying food craze. Maybe.

I can't...

help but mutter "Oh I see. Well fuck you, too then" whenever I see my Instagram follower number drop.

I can't...

and will probably never be able to with sports, but I can tell you this much: call me sexist, call me annoying, call me Emily, but I'd rather a man I'm with be obsessively into sports than be indifferent to/dislike them. The latter is creepy as hell. Like, serial killer/pedophile creepy. What do you mean you don't like sports? You have a penis, right? Wait, let me feel... Yep. Yes, you do. Figure it out.

I can't...

help it that I like having a bevy of desk snacks on-hand. What is a job without being stocked up on hidden nourishment? Don't be jealous of my preparedness.

(^ real life desk snacks ^)

I can't...

stress enough how sad it makes me that I didn't study harder in school. After subjecting myself to the entire series of "Gilmore girls," the main ideal I walked away with is your social life is more or less worthless and will only provide you with a minimal collection of memories, wherein your education WILL MAKE YOU SMART AND AMBITIOUS AND MORE HIREABLE AND CREATE YOUR CAREER. However, I also can't help but wonder if studying harder/taking shit more seriously during my schooling really would've helped that much. At the end of the day, I believe there are two types of humans: those who understand standardizing testing and those who are basically like "You could've given me this test written in German and I wouldn't've recognized the difference." FUCK the SATs (I sound so intellectual right now).

I can't...

with public burps. No, I don't mean the sound of them (but that, too). I mean the smell. I know you know how bad burps can smell, and when someone doesn't even try to cover that scent by burping in a different direction, I CAN'T. Let's face it - when you're drinking beer, you're gonna burp. But I always make sure to turn my head away dramatically and hold my index finger up to pause the conversation so I can burp away from my immediate audience. People who just burp freely and openly and subject their peers to the smell are fucking assholes.

I can't...

stress enough the importance of owning a Moleskine planner. It's the only acceptable planner to use, IMNSHO (In My Not So Humble Opinion). Buy one, touch it, then thank me. 

I can't...

that my shower pipes get cold during the winter and so the usually incredibly delicious warmth of my shower is effected and ultimately destroyed. Is it my shower pipes? Or, like, my actual gas heater thing in the attic? I'm so good at household knowledge and life. Call me for any "fix-it" issues.

I can't...

pretend to believe Kim Kardashian's body because it's lying and it's rude.

I can't...

with "Gilmore girls" scarves. I started this entry with scarves, so let's end it with scarves. I know it was the "thing" in the early 2000s to not only wear thinner scarves, but to also wear those thinner scarves so tightly around your neck because, clearly, doing so kept you so warm. I just can't with it, but I can because it's Lorelei and Rory and, in my eyes, they can do no wrong. Unless it's losing your virginity to a married ex-boyfriend or breaking off an engagement with your soul mate followed almost immediately by sleeping with your baby's daddy who's an immature, whiney, dumbass prick. 

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Ugh, love you girls so much. You keep me young and enable me to escape to a made-up, quaint, perfect Northeastern small town as to not have to deal with my own life and solely focus on yours.

xox,

emma

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