Chelsea Fagan

Did you ever call me “crazy” after we broke up, or even while we were dating?

Pretty Facebook Girls, you are the unicorns of the social media world. Your life is a blur of candid photos that somehow come out looking like something that would win a week’s competition on America’s Next Top Model, and other girls subtly remarking on how cripplingly jealous they are of you in comments that are meant to look joking.

Okay so basically between Thanksgiving and New Year’s you’re just not going to have any money ever again because ostensibly every person you’ve ever met for more than ten minutes now requires a personalized gift from you.

You also run a high risk of looking like a dying trout flopping around on top of your amorous partner. You are likely going to be sweaty, and somewhat drooly, and generally not in great control of your limbs/movements.

The premiere yesterday was an opportunity to catch up on the utter hilarity that is Johnny’s black-felt-carpet-sample-glued-onto-his-head that he ostensibly refers to as “hair.”

Lonely is allowing this freedom from judgment to take root in your life, to become a reason to let things go.

Talking to your coworkers about how you got up at 6 a.m. this morning so you could go for a refreshing bike ride/run around the city while we were all trying to get every possible minute of sleep.

Once you conquer your surroundings, once you feel like you know every nook and cranny of what a town has to offer, there is a feeling of invincibility — even immortality.

On days like this, there is nothing better to do than curl up with some beautiful male models: in the shower, on the bed, painting your nails, leaning against a car like a shirtless-sexy-hipster-lumberjack Jesus — it’s all good.

When you go out together, you can feel it. There will always be limits to how beautiful or confident you can feel while in public with them because there is an inescapable overtone of being a loyal dog who doesn’t even need a leash to follow at the heel of its beloved-yet-distant master

Heh, heh, getting a little kissy, I see. [Scoots uncomfortably in seat.] Well, that’s to be expected, they are really in love after all — gotta seal the deal with a little lip action.

Suffice it to say, your school likely erupted into the world’s least-coordinated episode of Maury, complete with widespread speculation about who the father is, as well is what is going to happen to the mom once the kid is actually born.

5. “If only this was going to bring Will’s hair back. :(“

The thing about this is that it could really go either way: you could end up having a great time and making a ton of new friends in the process, or you could end up sitting by yourself in the corner sipping a shitty light beer and talking to the house pet.

The point is, every awesome thing we were able to do when we were kids and got together for a night of no sleeping, we can now to do the next level, because we can get crunk whilst doing it.

She can do whatever the hell she wants, and I hope she’s having a lot of really incredible sex and feeling awesome about herself because she is beautiful and she should.

Aside from the fact that Kelly Clarkson is literally all of us wrapped into one flawless human being, this ode to mending your own broken heart is a perfect jam on its own.

So I do get a ton of messages, but 90 percent of them are horrifying!