the littlest things

i realize i just used a lily allen song as this post’s title, but it just felt right. it could’ve been worse. i could’ve named it after a hilary duff song or some shit (which, BY THE WAY, can we take a moment to let it sink in that lizzie mcguire is married and has a fucking child? it feels like just yesterday she was an oddly square-shaped preteen with butterfly clips and crazy cool outfits).

Posted on 8/28/2012


before i launch into this post, i just wanted to take a second and pat myself on the back for creating this someecard and having it go viral on the ol’ pinterest:

i had no idea that sitting in my lonesome cube, randomly creating “susie the whore” (as i have now officially deemed her) would create such a stir in the cyber universe. but i’m glad it did.


now onto my actual post. i got to thinking the other week about the smallest things that set people off (mainly girls… duh). other than your typical shit like men peeing on seats, girls looking cuter than you, or not seeing results from the gym almost as soon as you walk out into broad daylight, it’s really tiny stuff you probably don’t even realize that makes you crabby as all get out.


take, for example



and i’m not just talking about when it falls out and you literally can’t find it on the ground below you. i’m talking about how they all seem to get meshed together and used on different studs and suddenly, you are without. where the FUCK did all the earring backs go??? i KNOW i had two really shiny gold ones yesterday and now i have one shiny gold one and a dulled out, old gold one. and what the hell?! how can this earring back be TOO BIG for this earring? UGH. they need to sell you earrings with an extra set of backs like how they sell you pants and tops with extra buttons. only you’ll actually USE the extra set of earring backs as opposed to just throwing away the pants and tops buttons because god, those are annoying as hell.  i may save those buttons if, say, they’re for a XXI piece since that shit falls apart pretty easily. but if i’m dropping dollars at j.crew and you feel the need to secure me with a backup button, it comes off like you’re not very confident in your product. so, are you? are you confident in these trousers?!??!?!? AHEM. anyway. earring backs. they’re annoying.





i could buy a 200 pc. pack of bobby pins, and i will have lost 197 of them by monday. i don’t know where the fuck these tiny pieces of metal plastic things go. are they all lost in my jungle of hair? if i actually took the time to sift through my locks, would i find a small army of bobby pins setting up camp in there? bobby pins are expensive, you guys. no, really. it’s like $5-6 for a pack and that’s a lot of fuggin’ money when you’re broke and could’ve used that on a beer. and the WORST is when you have your hair situated exactly how you want, you go to reach for some bobby pins to secure that shit and OH. YOU HAVE NONE. WHERE ARE THEY!!! and what’s even stupider is that we only ever use the SAME TWO PINS every time. case in point:



we should start treating these pins like they’re worldly treasures – keep them in glass jars under lock and key. i just don’t see how else we’ll ever get a handle on not losing all of them at once. all of the above goes for hair clips as well with an emphasis on them breaking off in your hair. oh. that doesn’t happen to you? the little claws don’t just SNAP! right off into your mounds of hair? well, mine do. all the time. i’m working with about 4 clips right now, each of which have maybe 2-3 remaining claws, hanging on for dear life. but i won’t give up on them. it’s not their time! not now DAMMIT!


oh and,



this rarely happens to me, but if/when it does……………. i thank the gods that my friends/acquaintances/strangers can’t read my mind or i’d be that mute who comes into work, sits down, never gets up, goes home, and sits alone in her apartment with no one to talk to. my friends will be the first to tell you – i’m weird about clothes. and weird in the sense that i don’t like when people have what i do and i am SUPER picky about who i will lend what. i don’t like to share. i put a lot of thought and money i don’t have into creating my wardrobe and weirdly “save” things to wear for “special” events (i put special into quotation marks here because there’s no telling what emma’s mind will deem as a “special” event to wear something new to. it could be a brunch for all we know). anyway, the point is, when you see a girl wearing something you, too, own it ruins life for that moment. “fuck,” you think. “there goes that. now it’s not as special and everyone will think i copied her when, really, it’s already sitting in my closet.” and it goes without saying that if this girl has a different body type than you (basically either super skinny and tall or short and squat), it makes the situation 100x worse. this is moreso an issue at my place of work because there are about 10,000 super cute and stylish girls in this office, so you have to stay on your toes with fashion. man, did this paragraph totally turn you off to me? i just like to look cute, okay? is that such a fucking crime? what do you expect when my gender is slammed with blogs and magazines and tv shows with cutely dressed celebs everywhere? not to mentionPINTEREST. ugh.


lest we forget,



i feel like the older and more mah-tour we get, the bigger our collection of daily shit becomes. we used to be able to get away with chillin’ at the mall with just ourbedazzled nokia brick phones and 20 bucks wedged into the pocket of our SUPER low-rise, bootcut jeans, but now when you go to pack up your purse for a day at the office it’s like:

“okay. wallet, check. phone, check. ID card to get into building… wait. where the fu- OOP! left it in my gym bag. okay. um, lipstick…. well, do i wanna go the pink or coral route? i guess i’ll take both. and a chapstick just in case i decide to be natural today. handheld camera, check. just in case something goofy happens at the office that i need to document. planner notebook, check. just wedge that right in there. gum. can’t forget gum. oh and mints for another option. baby pack of tissues because i’m 25 going on 67. oh shit. i might need a book if that doctor appointment takes too long. it’ll fit. i’ll make it fit. that’s what she said. HAHA, omg i’m so witty. oh and a yogurt, an apple and a bottle of water. OK! good to go!”

i have been THAT girl way too many times who has to empty out her entire bag onto the table to find what she’s looking for. and it’s honestly not even that i keep that much unecessary crap in my bag (let’s be real here – i’m OCD. homie don’t function with a crowded bag). it’s just that my bag is so damn BIG, i LITERALLY can’t find shit. it’s like how socks disappear in the wash but it’s your phone disappearing in a 9×11 leather satchel. you know some people think black holes are a myth? well us women have tangible evidence of them exisiting… and i’m not talking about our vaginas. i’m talking about our purses.

i’m sure there are thousands upon thousands of these small, everyday things that make us want to rip our hair out and scream at the top of our irrationally loud lungs, but i’ll stop here.


this has been emma: your go-to gal for representing a twisted, needy youth.

- emma



Emma is ridiculously outstanding and will be writing regularly for the site going forward. This post was originally featured on her amazing fantastic blog, Emma's Things, which you would be a crazy person not to check out and/or read in its entirety.


Emmas Things

^this. click to go to there


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