A two-minute slide show of all the random cats I saw in bodegas last year.
Screenshots of Hinge conversations that, in retrospect, weren’t even that weird. Saying “lolz” is not actually a disqualifying character trait. Maybe I should have gone out with some of those guys. Maybe I still could?
Screenshots of Hinge conversations that were insanely weird. I’d prefer a dick pic to a shot of the back of a man’s head, to be honest. I don’t need you to confirm your hairline—I can wait until the first date for that reveal.
All the past romantic relationships that I still constantly obsess over, but especially these photos from Josh’s birthday last year that really hammer the breakup home. Even better, they’re in collage form!
Fourteen extremely bad haircuts.
And that one time my hair looked pretty good right after a cut.
The idea that I’d actually, possibly be able to afford a home (in Idaho) if I hadn’t bought so many avocado toasts in 2014. Why did I photograph every single one of them?
So many photos taken from the airplane window.
Every salad that I’ve been proud of making.
And some that I shouldn’t be.
A few good sunsets.
The week I finally redid my apartment.
Photos of the empty apartment, two weeks later, when I discovered bedbugs and had to get rid of everything.
The selfies I took in the airport bathroom while missing my flight, forcing me to stay in Newark for an additional six hours.
A lot of photos of Newark airport.
The time I got kicked out of a silent-meditation retreat for being “too disruptive.” The first two days were so pretty, though! I should go back.
Spring break, 2015. Why won’t you let me forget? The antibiotics took care of the chlamydia, so I’m ready to let go, and iPhoto should be, too.
A selfie with a tour guide in Portugal who still invites me to his d.j. events every month. The tour was seven years ago.
The fact that Obama was President when I graduated college.
And that I didn’t need foundation when I was twenty-two.
But I do now.
A three-minute slide show of my cat, titled “Your closest friends.”
That custom sweatshirt Brian got me for my birthday three years ago. Maybe I shouldn’t have dumped him just because he said Travis was good enough for Taylor. I wonder how his marriage is going.
All the friends I’m no longer speaking to.
Blurry photos from Lindsay’s bachelorette party, at which I insisted on dancing on the pole at the strip club, and then got ejected by security. Now I’m realizing why I was not invited to her baby shower.
How I used to screenshot my mom’s suggestions that I freeze my eggs and send the screenshots to my friends with the caption “lolz.”
How I started screenshotting egg-freezing pricing information on the websites of fertility clinics. All so expensive.
Photos of the family vacation where I had a small mental breakdown about the passage of time.
Photos of the family vacation where I had a large mental breakdown about the passage of time. (More time had passed by then, so it makes sense.)
The fact that I’ve been out of college for more than ten years, and that I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.
All my nudes. O.K., some of these are pretty good. I hope they get turned into a nice collage. ♦
