All Women Love Colin Firth: Mr. Darcy,

I Fall Into That Nebulous, Quote-unquote, Normal American Woman Size That Legions Of Fashion Stylists Detest. For The Record, I'm A Size 8 - This Week, Anyway. Many Stylists Hate That Size Because I Think To Them, It Shows That I Lack The Discipline To Be An Ascetic; Or The Confident, Sassy Abandon To Be A Total Fatty Hedonist.

As I've Gotten Older, I Can Look At Myself More Clearly And Own The Things That I'm Good At And Work On The Things That I'm Not. Like, I Am Not Skinny. I Know That If I Were To Lose A Little Weight I'd Literally Have More Time In The Morning Because I Know Clothes Would Fit Better. And Now I Can Look At Those Things More Practically. Instead Of Being Like, "what Does That Say About Me?," Now I'm Just Like, "that Would Be Great To Sleep In An Extra Fifteen Minutes Because I Wasn't Trying On Everything In My Closet."

I Think Sometimes People Think Cheerful Is A Synonym For Dumb, So No One Is Ever Cheerful.

Is This A Generation Of Orphans Who Are Going To The Improv To Do Stand-up?

Even In My Revenge Fantasy Where All I Do Is Exercise, I Can Still Do Only Twenty-five Pull-ups. Pull-ups Are Tough, No Joke.