I have a problem with Envy.

February 15, 2016 by Daniela Medina

No, you know what, fuck calling it Envy. Let me really name it: Jealousy. Addressed as Envy it sounds like some kind of charmingly mischievous winter sprite, who takes rainwater baths and runs naked through the woods, except she has really long hair that is always, somehow, very strategically placed over her boobs, butt, and vagina.

Jealousy is most certainly not a charmingly mischievous winter sprite. Jealousy fucking sucks. Jealousy is a no-good tramp who wears too much makeup, and skips around whispering in your ear, “Fuck that ho,” until the acid in your stomach begins to boil.

Jealousy is toxic.

My relationship with Jealousy is complicated, because it involves another bitch—Inferiority Complex. Jealousy and Inferiority Complex are BFF, and they both, collectively, are the worst. They tag team each other to throw blow after blow at my self-confidence, and at their strongest and most diabolical they collaborate to hold separate ends of a curtain that blocks my view from rational thought, essentially blinding me from the idea of what it is to act like a calm and decent human being.

The oddest thing is that Jealousy and Inferiority Complex will appear in the most unexpected ways. Sure, sure, there are the twinges I feel as they run their fingers along my spine when someone I know has a good thing happen, but those instances are neutralized by the simultaneous introduction of Happiness, a natural enemy. I oft walk away from those circumstances wishing that good thing had happened to me, yet happy it befitted my acquaintance.

However, Jealousy and Inferiority Complex decide to give it their all when I have no relation to the outside party whatsoever, which goes to show what a pair of twats they are. There are mornings when I’ve left the train for work crestfallen after hearing about all the goodies the duo of models standing next to me are expected to receive after their catwalks in New York, London, Paris, and Milan fashion weeks. Or I’ll walk down the platform with knots in my stomach, envisioning the month-long Asian tour the finance bro in front me was bragging about to his coworker. I’ve even stood in line behind a wonderfully tanned and toned person at the grocery store, comparing my shopping basket to theirs, only to conclude that this miracle of a being has only fruits, vegetables, and lean proteins to buy, and the piece of shit I am is going home with tortilla chips, animal crackers, cheese, chocolate, and beer.

Because you see, at the end of the day, Jealousy and Inferiority Complex know the button to push. It’s the big, bright, bulbous red one, with the question “Why Not Me?” printed over it. I’ve made it too easy for them to access.

But I’ve also started to implement a strategy restricting them. It involves building a nice, clear, plastic, heavy-duty box around it, the kind that would protect the nuclear launch codes in an overly produced macho thriller. And the way I’ve started to build it is by spending time alone. This is a tricky solution, because the temptation of following spiraling rabbit holes can lead to awful places, but the subtraction of other actors—of anything else I could compare myself to—provides the clear stage I need to practice a monologue helping me understand why I feel and react the way I do. What I have to recite is this:

Life is not fair and most likely never will be. It wasn't built that way. What you feel doesn't make you a bad person until you begin to let it interfere with how you treat people or yourself. It's normal to want good things, why would you not? But the blessings of good things upon others does not make you less worthy, or less able. It just didn’t happen that way. Life is random. Or, as random as you will allow it to be. You may have to work harder. That might be the way it is for you. You may never get what you want. Or it could be that one day you’ll wake up and it’ll all start to fit, because the other key players got in line. It isn't entirely up to you, not in that regard. What is entirely up to you is how you feel about what you produce and contribute to the world. Are you proud of it? Has it made you happy? Has it made you better? Just you, personally; not better based on the opinions others have. If yes, then you’re okay. Because everything is layers, everything is detail. Strip away what you covet in another person and you’ll find that at the core, you and he are the same. What is going to differentiate you is whether at that core, without the layers, without the details, happiness can exist on its own.

I’ve got, like, maybe close to two-thirds of it memorized so far.

Mind/Body

February 09, 2016 by Daniela Medina

Healthy things that are easy and do not cost a lot.

(Commonly referred to as my favorite healthy things.)

Part Three of a three-part series in which I, in all my inexperience and unqualified-ness, suggest how you can integrate healthy habits into your lifestyle.

Part III: Mind/Body Healthy Things

Reading

Like everyone else, I fall victim to the blue light just before bed. Of course, this means I end up not sleeping well. So lately I’ve taken up the practice of putting the phone away and picking up a book instead, like this one that my friend Sara Wood designed the cover for. Focusing on the fictional (or nonfictional) story at hand helps put to rest all the other problems of my world rather than magnifying them, as zombie-staring at my phone while scrolling through Facebook or Instagram tends to do. The more relaxed my mind is, the better I sleep. The better I sleep, the more rested I feel. And the more rested I feel, the more energized I am to conquer the goddamn world! Conquering the world meaning I get to work on time.

Blue Glasses

Nevertheless, if you just can't give up Facebook or Instagram before bed (no judgment here, I talk a good talk), there is something that can help keep your brain from going into hyperdrive. A friend of mine showed me these cool glasses from EyeBuyDirect that come with a filter to block out the blue light that radiates off our screens. Don't normally wear glasses? No problem. There's no need for a prescription: I ordered a pair of these to wear at work, and they have helped tremendously.

Meditation

There have been a lot of studies floating around suggesting that a dedicated practice of meditation daily can help rebuild brain matter, and rather quickly. For someone with chronic major depression and generalized anxiety such as myself, this is a big deal. Unchecked, those mental illnesses can actually shrink gray matter, due to the rumination of negative thoughts that do not allow the formation of fresh neural pathways (more about that here). However, increasing “mindfulness,” the new-agiest word ever, helps reintroduce balance that centers the mind, equipping it to better combat stress and the impulse of indulging negative thoughts that lead down spiraling rabbit holes. Meditation gets a bad rap as a difficult practice, but the fact is that taking a mere ten minutes of your day to check in with yourself—and I mean sitting still and quiet, and really checking in—provides tremendous benefits and shouldn’t scare anyone away. Still unsure? Check out Headspace: you can try a free starter course to help serve as your guide.

Exercise

I know you want everyone to shut up about exercise and how good it is for you, but it’s the truth. Working out sucks, but it makes you feel better. Don’t have time? Dude, I hear you. Life is for real and time is not plenty. An hour-long yoga or fitness class is really two, because you have to get there, make sure you get a spot, go through the class, and then deal with the clusterfuck of leaving. Sometimes that’s not in the cards. But while I know a lot of people are of the mentality of all in or nothing, let me assure you that a little something is better than nothing. And you will feel better for it. If you’re pressed for time, or can’t deal with working out for an hour, or just straight up do not want to deal with people, guess what: you can do all of it from home. Did you now that you can find a buttload of great fitness videos on YouTube for free? I have a few particular favorites that PopSugar offers. One is a thirty minute yoga video that gets my blood pumping yet doesn’t royally interfere with my schedule, and the other is a twenty minute body-sculpting workout that actually made me want to throw up, so I'm going to go ahead and say it was challenging because I have a delicate ego. Go do it! You’ll be glad you did.

External

January 25, 2016 by Daniela Medina

Healthy things that are easy and do not cost a lot.

(Commonly referred to as my favorite healthy things.)

Part Two of a three-part series in which I, in all my inexperience and unqualified-ness, suggest how you can integrate healthy habits into your lifestyle.

Part II: External Healthy Things

Olive Oil

Cook with it because that’s obviously better than canola oil, but I also like to use this as a mane booster. When my hair starts looking drab I take a generous amount of olive oil in my hands and run it through my locks, letting it soak for about 30-45 minutes. Then I shampoo, condition, dry, and a miracle! Drab hair no more.

Coconut Oil

There are two things I like to use coconut oil for besides cooking. The first is as a moisturizer. The jars of unrefined virgin coconut oil you see for sale in the supermarket for like $6? I take that and transfer the contents directly to my face. As someone who as tried and tried and tried fancy and overpriced moisturizers, let me tell you that nothing has worked better. The second thing I like to use it for is something called oil pulling. If you’re not familiar with this practice, it involves taking a spoonful of coconut oil first thing in the morning—making sure not to ingest anything else beforehand, not water, not anything—and swishing it around in your mouth for twenty minutes, after which you spit the oil out into the trash, rinse your mouth with salt water, and scrape your tongue clean. Is it super grody? Yes, a little. But what this routine is supposed to help with is drawing out the bacteria in your gums and teeth, thus improving your overall health. Is this true? How the hell should I know, I’m not a doctor. What I can attest to is the fact that ever since I started doing this two years ago, I haven’t spent more than five minutes with a dental hygienist. There is virtually no plaque, no nothing, in my mouth. Which is a big deal, because the closer I get to thirty, the more cleanings feel like someone’s taking an ice pick to my enamel.

Castor Oil

If you were a 90s kid you may, like me, have partaken in the popular look of chola brows. That was peachy keen at the time, but now that I’m older and my eyebrows have begun to thin out and have weird patches in them, it’s turned into an “oh shit” situation. To help ameliorate this problem, I take a dab of castor oil and spread it over my eyebrows, and using a clean wand, sweep my eyelashes with it as well. Whether the oil helps regenerate hairs is up for debate, but it does make them nice and plump so that they fill in patches better.

Raw Honey/Buf-Puf

Exfoliate, exfoliate, exfoliate! An action that does not require expensive scrubs. Two easy solutions: raw honey or Buf-Puf sponges. The coarseness of raw honey lends itself to great exfoliation, yet is still kind to the skin. Or if you’re concerned with allergens, the gentlest version of a Buf-Puf sponge is a viable alternative, and available for purchase at most drugstores. I like to use it with Mario Badescu's Glycolic Foaming Cleanser. At $16 it's a tad bit on the pricier side, but completely worth it: it lasts a long time and works marvelously. Just remember to moisturize everything afterwards, and don't over do it! Go easy easy easy on your skin: it's actually doesn't take much to slough off dead cells, so there's no need to sandblast your visage. Plus, even though it gets a bad rap, you don't want to strip your skin of oil. A weekly facial treatment should be fine. Also, don’t forget your lips! Gently brushing them with a dry toothbrush will help rid them of flaky skin, that in turn can help you avoid overly chapped lips. Again, just remember to moisturize after.

Jergens

Don’t laugh. As a born and raised Texan I am a natural sun worshipper, but I’ve come to realize that cancer kills, and the UV rays from the sun don’t seem to help much in preventing that. Nevertheless, I’m not a fan of the plague-ridden look, so I use a bronzer. Jergens has a really great one that is very affordable, smells very good, and does not make you look weird. As in, you look like you actually have a tan, and did not trip and fall into orange paint.

Internal

January 19, 2016 by Daniela Medina

Healthy things that are easy and do not cost a lot.

(Commonly referred to as my favorite healthy things.)

Part One of a three-part series in which I, in all my inexperience and unqualified-ness, suggest how you can integrate healthy habits into your lifestyle.

Part I: Internal Healthy Things

Water, Lime, Apple Cider Vinegar, and Liquid Chlorophyll

Do you like drinking scary green stuff? No? Too bad! Because this tonic is very good for you. All it involves is taking half a lime and squeezing it into eight ounces of lukewarm water, adding a tablespoon of apple cider vinegar, a tablespoon of liquid chlorophyll, and drinking it. Why limes and not lemons? Because limes are cheaper and similar in nutritional value: hella vitamin C. Apple cider vinegar is antimicrobial and promotes pH balance, making you feel reallll good (make sure you buy organic). And chlorophyll: man, that just does all kinds of super duper shit. All kinds. I don’t know exactly what, which is why I’m generalizing so much, I just know it’s good.

Blackstrap Molasses

I ran NCAA Division I Cross Country in college (I’m trying to impress you, but I walked on and was the slowest team member), which means iron intake was no joke. Blackstrap molasses is very rich in the mineral and an incredible value; just make sure you purchase it unsulphured. As someone prone to anemia, taking one tablespoon a day is of great assistance in making sure I don’t set up residence in fatigueville.

Salmon

Gotta get them Omega 3’s, homies! They help you feel happy! Which is muy importante! Cold water fatty fishes are great for that. Of course buying fresh is always best, but if you’re a semi-poor person like me, you can get very good deals on frozen, farm-raised fish. For example, I like to buy pre-cut and individually packaged salmon at Whole Foods. For $20 I can get a package of six, which is nearly an entire week’s worth of dinner! Protein wise, at least. And, if you’re not a fan of seafood, Cod Liver Oil pills are a great alternative. Just pop and roll.

Cucumber and Tomato Salad

This salad literally takes five minutes to prepare and is a nice deviation from the run of the mill leafy shit we normally eat (although I do love leafy shit). I like to take half a tomato, a quarter of a long cucumber, and dice both of them up finely. Then I drizzle some olive oil, maybe give a squeeze of lemon, sprinkle some salt, and voila: salad. That is not leaves.

Hummus

Hummus is a great alternative to other dips (duh). While incomplete, chickpeas do have a lot of protein, and pairing hummus with carrots or celery makes a healthy substitute for chips and salsa.

Popcorn

Popcorn is incredibly cheap and full of antioxidants. HOWEVER, I am not referring to microwave popcorn or movie theater popcorn. SORRY, GUYS, nice try. I’m talking about old school stovetop popcorn. Which is very easy to make and tasty. Plus you can season it as you please, and so long as you don’t put a pound of butter in it—although maybe that’ll satisfy your daily calcium requirements, who knows—you’ll be doing your body good.

Apples

Just wash and eat. They’re amazing for you. They’re easy to carry around. They taste good. They curb hunger. I don’t know what else to say.

NutriBullet

I bit the bougie bullet and bought a NutriBullet. While technically not a food, it does help me make fruit and vegetable smoothies, which are a food, and, that's right: very good for me. I bought mine on discount from Boxed for about $80, and considered it both a deal and an investment. It beats paying $10 everyday for a beverage I could make at home. Since the NutriBullet comes with portable containers, I make my drink the night before and chuck it in my bag on the way to work. I like to make mine extra bougie and add superfood powders like maca, green coffee, and chia, while using unsweetened almond milk and coconut water. I’m sorry.

Super Super Dark Chocolate

I inherited a sweet tooth from my father, and it is intense. Like, wake up in the morning and have no problem eating a Kit Kat intense. Not that I’ve done this . . .

Because of course that’s not very healthy. Yet, that sugar craving is a for real thing, and it has to be taken care of. Therefore, what I do to quell the beast is feed it squares of 90% cocoa chocolate. Does it taste like bittersweet dirt? Yes, a little. But very fancy, extra delicious and nutritious, smooth dirt loaded with antioxidants.

Reading for people who can't pay attention.

January 11, 2016 by Daniela Medina

Also suitable for those who have no time.

One of the things I've come to terms with in my adulthood is the fact that I cannot pay attention. To anything. Remember the dog in UP? That's me. But instead of squirrels, it's everything; everything is a distraction. There's a good chance it'll take me two days to finish this post, because I might spot something shiny on the floor that I'll need to examine, and as I do it'll remind me of a blingy necklace I bought recently. All of the sudden I'll think of an outfit I want to build around said necklace, but as I go to fish everything out I'll realize I need sheer black tights for this particular outfit, all of mine which currently have runs in them. So I'll make moves to head out, grabbing my coat and purse as I walk out the door, but oh shit: I'm out of gum. Now I also need to get gum while I'm out shopping for my tights, but since I'll be getting off at Union Square and passing by Whole Foods, wouldn't it be a good idea to get to get the granola I need as well? Oh look: whey protein is on sale. I really need to start working out more, I've been slacking. But my workout clothes are getting so ratty. Oh wait, the Adidas store is on my way to H&M, I can swing by there first. OH FUCK! Crate and Barrel across the street is having a sale, let me check that out. I really need to get my apartment organized: I keep finding shit on the floor.

Oh.

Now this problem very often manifests when I'm reading, which is frustrating because I love to read. I love books. I love the feel of them, the smell of them, the weight of them. Hell, I spend all day designing their pretty covers (you can check out an interview I did about the particulars of that here), so let me tell you that I am fucking dedicated. But I can't finish them. Which is why short stories and essays are such a wonderful compromise. They're usually brief enough that I can finish one in a single sitting, get a sense of completion or closure, and feel as though I've accomplished something.

And then I can get back to the novel I've been trying to finish for the past two years.

Here are some of my favorite collections of short stories and essays:

CivilWarLand in Bad Decline by George Saunders

Vampires in the Lemon Grove by Karen Russell

Exile and the Kingdom by Albert Camus

This Is How You Lose Her by Junot Diaz

Changing My Mind by Zadie Smith

Nine Stories by J. D. Salinger

Goodbye, Columbus by Philip Roth

Selected Non-Fictions by Jorge Luis Borges

The Berlin Stories by Christopher Isherwood

Sketches from a Hunter's Album by Ivan Turgenev

The Best American Series published by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

The Fun of It: Stories from The Talk of the Town, edited by Lillian Ross

So, my dears, there you have it: reading for people who can't pay atten—oh shit, what's that shiny thing on the foor?

I mean, I tried.

December 02, 2015 by Daniela Medina

Aw snap! It's the most wonderful time of the year: With the shop merchants selling, and everyone yelling, you need sixteen beers—it's the most wonderful time of the year.

That's right, guys: the season of needless yet somehow obligatory shopping is upon us. Are you stressing about what gifts you should max your credit cards on? Don't! Here are some suggestions to help you avoid both a brain aneurysm and debtors' prison, because I obviously think we still live in Dickensian times.

1. Ethnic Vintage (Etsy)

I searched for "ethnic vintage" on Etsy once, and it gave me a litany of everything that is wonderful on the Internet. If you have no idea what to buy a person, I recommend trying this. The results are random and assorted enough that something is bound to pop out at you, and chances are it will be affordable. Unless the vendor is a dick and selling an artisanal thimble for two thousand dollars.

To clarify: I have yet to find said dick, I'm just assuming he or she exists in the world somewhere.

2. Make something (Darby Smart, For the Makers)

DIY! It's scary, I know! But don't worry: I fuck shit up all the time and just say the end result was intentional, and you can do the same. Besides, people appreciate handmade gifts because they are costly in time, which is invaluable. Unless, of course, you are me and have loads of it reserved for couch sitting and wall staring. I know I joke about those activities persistently, but that's only because they're the truest characteristics of my life.

3. Fancy cookbooks/cocktail books (Strand Book Store, Half Price Books)

Guys, let me tell you: EVERYONE loves fancy cookbooks. Everyone. I have about five on my bookshelf that I have yet to use, but I like to believe one day I will. Plus, when people come over, they see my fancy cookbooks and think to themselves, "Oh! Fancy cookbooks: You in turn must be fancy as well, despite the fact that there are currently six empty family-sized bags of Cheetos in your trashcan." Not only are these books gorgeous inside and out (that photography! swoon), but they also don't really cost that much, especially if you buy them from places like Strand Book Store or Half Price Books. Or . . . Amazon, if you must. Insert extreme side-eye emoji here.

4. Night-In Package. (Astor Wines, Spec's Liquor, Murray's Cheese, Trader Joes)

I'm not quite sure what to tell all you party-goers because I don't usually partake in that lifestyle, but I sure as heck am a pro at staying walled up in my apartment. If you have a homebody in your life, put together a nice assortment of wines, cheeses, and crackers—maybe throw in some chocolate and an iTunes giftcard—and wrap it up nicely in a basket or something. They'll love you forever. And if they don't, don't come yelling at me, you probably did something to make them mad.

5. Sentimental/Silly/Weird (Society 6)

There are usually three ways the reaction to a gift like this can go: weepy, hilarious, or annoyed. It tends to be a game of roulette. All I'm saying is that I wish someone would buy me this Nick Cage portrait already.

6. Practical (Target?)

You know that one person who is always like, "Man I need some rainboots," but for the past six years has walked around in wet, squishy shoes every time it storms? Get that person some rainboots. Or whatever practical thing it is they refuse to buy themselves.

Also, I say this with no judgment, as there are currently five bajillion things I refuse to invest in even though they would make my life easier.

7. Magazine Subscription (Zinio)

Magazines are a pretty solid way to go, because if you know the person relatively well you can gift them something they'll not only enjoy, but look forward to every month. Plus, if you get them a subscription through Zinio, you not only get first-time subscriber discounts, but the person receiving your gift will have the ability to carry all of their magazines around with them all the time! Everyone wins!

Good luck and happy shopping! Don't worry, it'll be over soon. Unless you're dating someone who demands you go all out for Valentine's Day, and all I can say to that is godspeed.

We are all made of stars because science said so. And Moby.

November 13, 2015 by Daniela Medina

Every morning I ride the train with people I don’t know, and will probably never know. Yet I think about them: who they are, what their life is like, do they have a cat, do they wish they had a dog instead, are they trying to remember if they put deodorant on, are they regretting not taking a shower, are they going on an extreme adventure and why.

Most of the passengers get off at Union Square, dispersing to jobs, school, appointments, stores, or other trains. But for about ten minutes of the day we all head in the same general direction, with the same general destination of Manhattan. Sometimes I wonder if the person I’m looking at across the subway pole is headed where he or she wants to be; I wonder if they're happy with where they're going. I’m sure most of the time the answer is no. New York both gives birth to and executes dreams. I don’t know what the hell Alicia Keys was smoking when she sang, “There’s nothing you can’t do,” because I can think of about fifty things I can’t do here, off the top of my head, quite easily. That is often the heartbreak of this city: to be surrounded by magnificence so far removed.

In fact, New York can beat me into such a pulp that the victory of getting a seat on my commute instantly makes me think, “FINALLY: REDEMPTION.” Until the person I’m sitting next to begins primping herself. Or rehearsing his latest single very loudly. Or lets her head fall onto my shoulder to catch a quick snooze. And when this happens I’ll clench my fists and start breathing so furiously it sounds like there’s a stovepipe in my throat, and I'll begin rage muttering to the subway gods, “DON’T THEY KNOW I’M TRYING TO DO THINGS HERE? DON’T THEY KNOW I HAVE GOALS? THAT I’M TRYING TO BE SOMEONE?”

But don’t I know that the primping girl is on her way to her second interview that morning? Or that the songbird guy is on his way to record a demo before his shift starts? Or that the sleepyhead woman is on her way back to work after four hours of sleep and two jobs? Don’t I know?

Everyone has that Facebook friend who posts inspirational quotes that look like they were typewritten, xeroxed, and scanned into the computer, and every once in a while that Facebook friend is me. Which means that one day, a long time ago, I posted something that said this:

"The iron in our blood was formed in stars, billions of years ago, trillions of miles away."

Apparently it’s a quote from a bench in Dallas.

Sometimes when I see a celebrity—or as we call them, a star—on the street, I’m taken aback by how ordinary they look. Or, ordinary in the sense that they are a unique human being in the world. That they, also, are plagued by blemishes, wrinkles, gray hair, under-eye bags, fat, etcetera, etcetera. In other words, sometimes I’m taken aback by how much they look like me. That we are both made of skin, flesh, and bone; that our blood was formed by the same stars, billions of years ago, trillions of miles away. It’s a welcome sense of shock. I can consider more easily, then, that perhaps they also once took gratification in the achievement of getting a train seat on a morning commute, as they were on their way to do things, for the goals they had, while they were trying to be someone.

So you're tired and want to give up, eh?

That's cool, I get it, but maybe don't do that just yet.

Maybe smile and shine on.

Sometimes when you're beaten, and tired, and down for the count, is when inspiration strikes.

POW!

For real I had a dream like this once.

It was. And then I woke up and started designing stuff.

Then you sit back and realize, "Wait: I got this."

And you do.

Zara blazer, boots, and jumpsuit. H&M collar.

And that's about it. So remember, guys:

Don't worry about Moby, he's just a little starstruck by your presence.

On behalf of being basic.

November 06, 2015 by Daniela Medina

One of the things I hate most is when girls refer to each other as "basic bitches," because ninety-nine percent of the time a lot of the qualities that categorize a girl as a "basic bitch" can also be found in me.

So let me go ahead and clear up some things.

UGGs are comfortable. I straight up roll into work in kinda sorta pajamas, so I'm going to be the last person to sneer at a chick who chooses to go around in a shoe that simulates walking on a cloud. Do you know what kind of women wear heels all day, every day? The ones who take taxis. I have a monthly metrocard, and homies, you better believe that magnetic strip can scarcely read by year's end.

Starbucks is candy. Do you know why sugar is the main ingredient in Starbucks beverages, and not coffee? Because everyone loves sugar. In some form or another, we all crave it. Starbucks was smart and incorporated this into its business model, and "basic bitches" are simply efficient and go straight to the source. Personally I don't like Starbucks—nevertheless, trust that wherever I get my coffee, half of it is saccharin.

Everyone likes being in pictures. I mean, fucking everyone: we enjoy seeing our faces, and moreover, we prefer it when we have control over the image so it represents our best-looking selves. Validation is something all people seek, not because we crave attention, or because we're approval addicts, but because why in the hell would you not want someone to recognize your existence?

There are many weekends when I do not leave the house, and actually watch content on Netflix for eight hours straight. Go read a book, go to a museum, go to a park, you say? Obviously. Obviously and of course those are all better options. But like many people, I'm usually at my job at least ten hours a day, and then come home to focus on freelance or this blog. Therefore, on weekends the only thing I want to concern myself with is why Don Draper is so persistently disappointing.

I do not carefully construct my meals with artisanal food products, or try new zany things. Not because I don't want to, but A) I have hella student loans to pay, B) I live alone and the only person who is going to help with everything is me, and C) see above.

We can't all be fashionistas all the time. "Dafuq? Is this not a fashion blog?" I hear you all whisper-asking yourselves. It is. But I opt for it to be a realistic one. The funds, energy, and time typically required for that lifestyle are not always readily available. So many days—for me at least—it's just jeans, a tee, and sneakers. If that makes me basic, then amen hallelujah and pass the Converse and Levi's.

In the spirit of remaining basic, no fancy stuff this post. JUST LIL' OL ME.

Zara cardigan, jeans, and sneakers. Uniqlo tee. J. Crew belt. Banana Republic silver necklace. African record beads from Etsy.

Yep. Just me.

Just me sitting in these plants.

That's right: Just me sitting in these basic ol' plants.

YEUP, just me hanging around these ol' plants and doing some basic lunges, per usual.

Maybe giving them a little love.

Aww.

Or not.

Or maybe taking a ride on this basic bike that is not mine.

Or perhaps partaking in my favorite basic activity of all: snapping selfies.

Yes?

Yeeeeessssssss?

Yes I see the gray hair, don't worry about it.

And that's about it.

Ok I have to go watch Mad Men now.

The Island. Yes, there's a beach. No, Leo is not there. Actually, he might be, who knows.

October 23, 2015 by Daniela Medina

You know how it goes: you grow up in Texas dreaming of big city life in New York—even though you’re from Houston, the fourth largest city in the country—and make plans for your move after college.

You get here, you live it up, and everything is fine and dandy until one day it’s just not so fine and dandy. Spring makes an appearance for five minutes and you think to yourself, “Well this is perfect: the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, the weather is ideal, everyone is blissful and happy.” So naturally, it’s not going to last.

Summer rolls in, kicking off stoop-peeing season, and four months of consistently wondering if skin rot occurs from excessive sweat; the reason all of your clothes smell just a little musty from May to August. You install your window unit since the technology of central air hasn’t made it this far north yet, and when you get the electricity bill for the month you make a rule that if anyone touches the window unit again, he or she is sentenced to death. You opt for an electric fan and spend the rest of your summer in a chair, right in front of it.

Then comes fall, and everyone starts talking about apples and pumpkins. There are orchards and fields all over the state, and because New York is full of ambitious people who do things, everyone goes out and takes pictures in them. Except for you.

Finally, winter arrives. The most heinous of them all. The first sub-thirty degree day hits and you think you can handle it, but once you’ve dealt with January and February, you begin to seriously question if you’ll know warmth again. Every day the sun fails to heat the earth above twenty degrees fahrenheit, it takes a bit of your soul with it when it dips back down into Hades.

All the while you wake up, eat breakfast, go to work, go to the gym, come home, eat dinner, fall asleep fully clothed with every light in your apartment turned on, wake up, turn everything off, fall back asleep, and begin the day anew. Over and over again. But it starts to get easier. You start to “make it.”

And the reason you start to “make it” is because you amass a group of friends—a very solid group. They congratulate you if something good happens. They picket for you if something bad happens. They reach out when you’re sad and ask if you’ve eaten something besides canned tuna for the day. They reach out generally and ask if you’ve eaten something besides canned tuna for the day. They take care of you. Slowly you realize that although you live and work on an island, you are not one, nor do you want to be.

Because these are also the people who didn’t judge you for that Leonardo DiCaprio desktop you installed on your work computer.