I Can't, Vol. 45

It is officially fall, yet it's still 94º outside. So basically, fall is a liar, the weather is a liar, your mom is probably a liar, and I am thisclose to throwing all my tank tops and stupid summer dresses into a pile and lighting it all on fire. So that's where I'm at, but how are you guys?! Let's get right into it today.

I can't...

believe I'm saying this, but I have found a way to enjoy the Pumpkin Spice flavor from Starbucks without ingesting 350+ calories and being overloaded with basicness in my mouth. Look, I've never been a fan of the PSL. I love pumpkin flavored shit, I do. Mainly candles from Bath and Body Works (Pumpkin Woods or Pumpkin Pie), but never really the PSL. But I like the idea of it so I decided to try and figure out a way that I, Emma, could enjoy it. And I did it. All you gotta do is order plain, drip coffee and ask for one pump of Pumpkin Spice. Add some cream to that shiz and VOILA! You are sipping on and utterly enjoying the infamous flavor without being overrun by it. I did this just the other morning and was extremely pleased by the results. It tasted both basic and unique in one sip.


I can't...

handle parking garages and I honestly didn't know this about myself until recently. I had never really thought about them too hard in the past or perhaps I had more patience from them a few years ago when I was younger and more eager about life. Regardless, as of late I've noticed my propensity to being enraged by them sky rocket. It's two things in particular: 1) how slowly people navigate them when they are ONE WAY and it's not like another car is going to come whipping around the corner and 2) how slowly people navigate them in hopes of finding a parking spot on one of the lower levels when they know DAMN WELL that the first 2-3 floors are reserved spots and they're not going to get one so might as well book it up to the floors where you could possibly actually get a spot OMG IT MAKES ME IRATE. And the worst part is I can do not one thing about it but ride their ass to make a point and talk to myself incessantly throughout the ordeal with phrases such as: "Are you fucking kidding me???" "THEY'RE ALL RESERVED. KEEP MOVING!" "OMG. I literally." "Let's go let's go let's go!" And my favorite when I'm at a loss for anymore exasperated words: "I'm."

I CAN'T...

believe the day has finally come in which I am that girl in the office who's freezing. Never in my entire life have I ever shared this nuisance that women in the workplace have been complaining about for years. "My office is a freaking icebox!" They say. "I am seriously so cold, I wear a snuggie at my desk all day, " they lament. For as long as I've been a professional, I have never worn a trusty office-only hoodie or kept a shawl or small blanket draped over the back of my chair in case of emergency. When I put an outfit on in the morning, that's the outfit. I'm not trying to jeopardize the integrity of my look with a snuggie. But upon my company moving to a new office building this week, the sick upgrades have also included an A/C upgrade that shows no mercy. I may have to start bringing a hoodie to work and become my own nightmare.


I can't...

lie and say that participating in this week's trending hashtag of #describeyourselfin3fictionalcharacters didn't cause me great stress at first. I saw a few people post theirs with such accuracy, I broke out in an anxiety-ridden sweat. THIS WAS SO MUCH PRESSURE. The list of characters are endless — how the fuck was I suppose to choose three perfect ones? OMG. I decided I could approach this one of three ways: 1) not at all, 2) take way too much time and stress to figure it out, or 3) just close my eyes and give myself 30 seconds to decide on three characters. Since #1 clearly wasn't truly an option, I chose #3. And I think it's pretty spot-on.


I CAN'T...

like CANFUCKINGNOT deal with females who apply their daily makeup in the car. What is this. Why. Are you seriously that bad with time management? No one, and I mean NO ONE, should have to apply a full face of makeup mid-drive. What in God's name are you doing for the entire morning that you can't carve out five extra minutes to do this while standing still in your bathroom like a normal, fully-functioning human? Texting and driving is terrible, yes. Snapchat and driving is worse (which I literally do every day). But PUTTING ON PRIMER, BLENDING IN CONCEALER, APPLYING BLUSH, AND PUTTING POKEY BRUSHES NEAR YOUR EYE WHILST OPERATING A MOVING VEHICLE IS ABOUT 1000X WORSE. Literally wake up five minutes earlier. That's all you should need in order to avoid looking like an asshole on the road and causing those around you danger because you didn't have time to put on your probably-too-pink blush and way-too-light foundation at home. Also, I can't imagine what the innards of your car and work bag look like — caked in black gunk and random patches of blush, I'm sure. I CAN'T.

I can't...

decide whether or not the choker trend is for me. Part of me has PTSD from all the chokers of the 90s, but another part of me keeps seeing really adorable girls pulling it off day after day, Instagram post after Instagram post. So, last week, I decided to bite the piece of velvet material bullet and ordered one from ASOS. It arrived last night and, once again, I found myself breaking out in a cold, anxious sweat. I played around with it for a little, ultimately setting it back in the packaging and deciding I'd deal with it this morning. Well, I'm really excited to report I am currently wearing it and honestly? I don't think it looks half bad. Me. Wearing a velvet choker. WHODATHUNKIT? 


Of course, my big thing with chokers is how they can turn you real ugly, real fast. Meaning, I'm prone to making unattractive faces multiple times a day without even realizing it, so I have to commit to being on my best behavior while donning this new, exciting piece of jewelry. Otherwise, I could quickly look like this when I don't mean to:


Here's to the impending weekend, the hopes that I stop sweating sometime this year, and to Brad and Angie: may your divorce be swift, the tabloids kind, and the inevitable E! True Hollywood Story about the two of you accurate and fair (none of these things will come to fruition, but a girl can hope).



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