I rahther feel like expressing myself now.

Obviously, I only love Audrey Hepburn. And obviously, as a result of that I only loved this Gap ad when it came out in 2006, to the point where I asked a Gap employee in Boston if I could have or purchase one of the awesome, five foot tall posters they had hanging in the windows. When they said that wasn't allowed, I tried to pull the ol' Emerson "I Need It For My Production" card, but they wouldn't budge. ANYWAY, point is: sometimes a girl's got to dance. Audrey gets it. Lord knows I do. All the best houses have space to dance in. The von Trapp house, my grandparents' house, my parents' house, my old Beacon Hill apartment, the apartment I live in now. And sometimes you've just got to dance it out and jump around and remember how that's just what you've done all along.

Divas.

Josh says TWIST, Celine says IS MY FRINGE AT A RIGHT ANGLE YET?!

Merciful Heavens.

Being Facebook friends with 13/14/15 year old cousins and former babysittees has made me really grateful that the Internet became mainstream long after I grew some semblance of a social conscience.

Although, they're not entirely to blame. Clearly all of their friends are exactly the same, complaining via status update about how they have to go to "gay ass schoollllllllllllll" the next day or that they're "STILL single even after THIRTEEN WHOLE YEARS ON EARTH". Not their adorable little faults.

I know I'm old now. I'm old because kids whose diapers I would change for 5$ an hour are now somehow old enough to be socially networking and swearing to seem like badasses in front of their friends. I'm old because I recognize and pity the insecurity that prompts some once precious girl to use adjectives like "gay ass" to describe high school. I don't even know what they think they mean by that. To me it sounds like a positive thing I would high five one of my gay friends about. "Oh man Danielle, I scoped out the hottest piece of gay ass West of Santa Monica Boulevard at the Alley last night!" "No way, you did?! UP TOP!"

Give it ten years, little ones. Pucker up. You have no idea. "Gay ass" doesn't even BEGIN to describe. And I doubt any of you have ever even SEEN Dawson's Creek, so imagine what it's like to be me, STILL SINGLE after all these nearly twenty four years of life.* I KNOW, RIGHT?! Let me just settle something for you all right now. I did not spend the summer before my senior year of high school sailing from the Cape to the Florida keys with Joshua Jackson aboard the True Love. I spent it hmm...let's see...oh, I remember. I spent it doing this.

*Given the alternative, which of course for the sake of this argument is an unhappy arranged marriage, it's perfectly great.