I ended my post yesterday with complaints about bully abandonment. But like an emotionally abusive Christmas morning, when I woke up they were here! Having transformed into a hater-appreciator overnight, I reacted with kindness. 

Oh, COME ON! I tried but I will not let you ruin something as wonderful as empanadas. You can’t take that away from me. To put it in perspective, empanadas are my Kristen Stewart. How dare you.

She corrected her tweet. It’s a shame, Lauren Bino really had some bite to it. 

I admittedly got sarcastic. I felt bad about it until I realized they probably don’t know what discourse means. 

You leave my insecurity and momma out of this. Those are things that I love.

Blame me for what? And why do you care so much about her? KRISTEN STEWART DOESN’T CARE ABOUT WHITE PEOPLE!

Fine. All people.

Great. Now I can’t tell if this is a cultural barrier or if social media has destroyed your capacity for language. Call it a draw. 

I am only laughing because I’m scared and lack coping skills. Can you tell me how to get to the comfort room?

Aw, you lack coping skills too. Let’s be friends, not enemies!

I was starting to feel genuinely bad. These were just kids. I was learning that kids these days are excitable idiots, just like I was and continue to be. The only difference is I did not have a social media platform to start wars with comedians over Jonathan Taylor Thomas and the Hanson brothers. I was starting to feel legitimate sympathy for my semi-literate adversaries. It felt almost nurturing. I wanted to both comfort them and teach them how to spell. Instead I tried to get on her level.

She never responded. I used too much punctation and not enough emoticons. What an old creep.

I didn’t watch the Oscars because I haven’t seen Les Miserables and I didn’t want to spoil it. Not the plot, just my ability to dislike it for no reason. Mostly I didn’t watch because I was tired. I woke up early to indulge in some award show highlights and coffee. What I found was hilarious outrage over how bad Kristen Stewart looked. I knew little about her beyond the fact that she’s known for cheating and vampire movies, but I deduced that she’s not a likable broad. I wanted to take a shot at her, even 8 hours too late, so I tweeted, “Kristen Stewart wore crutches to the oscars just to make us hate her more.” 

Thinking she was an easy target, I assumed such a tweet would garner little attention. I’ve never been internet bullied by so many vampire nerds before 9AM in my life.

I never thought of myself as a jealous person, but jalous was another story. This was all too confusing. Why would you call me stupid then RT me? Do you know how I feel about attention? I’m loving this. 

I’ve been called worse than a low, shallow, safety hating bitch. 

I will only fuck myself if I can congratulate myself first, because this is awesome. What is everyone so angry about? Are all of her fans also on crutches? I had to respond to the prom question, but didn’t want to show my age. 

She didn’t get it.

No one got that one either. But the war was far from over. 

Da hell is wrong w YOU? Learn how to use twitter and words, dummies. 

Maybe I was becoming a bully too but it felt like a teachable moment. They unfaved me. Tough but fair, ISawWhatYouDidThere. 

But just as I was gearing up for a real war of the weirdos, they stopped at 9AM. Sure, I kind of came off like an old creep, but all this rage and then nothing? I could only assume my enemies had to get to first period. I still tried to bait them, tweeting harshly “Kristen Stewart is a slob and so are her fans” and “Kristen Stewart is my horse meat.” But even after school, I got nothing. As fast as they appeared, these teenage trolls were just gone.

Much like Kristen Stewart, I learned an important lesson today. Haters are gonna hate. But it’s worse when haters stop hating, because that means they don’t care anymore. Kristen, we care about you enough to tell you that you’re at The Oscars, not Bonnaroo. Congratulations on being hated and relevant.

We were killing another December day in a coffee shop, just happy to find a seat to do nothing in outside of our apartments. My boyfriend grabbed the drinks while I grabbed a table and bite of his donut. As two aspiring comedians with writer’s block, it was easy to deviate from creative pursuits. Today we distracted ourselves with celebrity cheat lists. This was that cliche series of concessions couples allow each other, assuming that no one will get hot enough to actually fondle fame.

Having dreamt of this scenario since seeing it play out on an episode of Friends, I struggled with the concept in the moment. My mind was blank, as if I had never heard of any male celebrities outside of Tom Selleck, Bruce Willis, and other dudes that look like my dad. My boyfriend scribbled in deep concentration, like he had just cracked some code that he needed to get on paper. He finished, sipped his coffee, and slid his list across the table. I lifted it, only to read Jennifer Lawrence’s name written down 10 times.

Out of the entertainment loop and prone to irrational jealousy, I shouted, “who is she?” He calmly informed me that she was a great actress, in a great movie, with the greatest butt. Sensing my hesitation, he swooped in with the clincher. “It’s about dancing and mental illness. Your favorites!” I was instantly scheduling a movie date with my gal pal to see what this JLaw butt was all about.

I enjoyed Silver Linings Playbook from the start but I was overcome with anxiety about the woman in question. Where was she? What will she be like? Can I convince myself I look like her even a little bit? I needed to know. And just when I could not cope with the suspense any longer, she appears in an uncomfortable dinner scene. Rattling off different pills and side effects with Bradley Cooper, they turn into two dueling banjos of psychotropic medications. Within minutes of meeting her character it is clear that Lawrence’s appeal extends far beyond the “crazy girls are hot” stereotype. Immediately entranced in her performance, I all too audibly exclaimed “I want my boyfriend to fuck her.”

I could not take my eyes off of her and my experience was not unique. Everyone in that theater felt it. I wanted to text my boyfriend “I totally get it” but did not want to risk missing one on screen moment. I didn’t even text after it was over. I was too busy engaging in a level of internet stalking that felt comparable to emotional infidelity  

JLaw’s performance off screen has been equally attractive, even when she fails. She had a joke bomb at Meryl Streep’s expense while accepting a Golden Globe with a 103 degree fever, and still had a sense of grace and humor about it. And she’s 22. When I was 22 I was temping and the only award I received with a fever was for sweating.

She has the kind of natural self confidence I only see in New York children riding the subway alone.  Amazing in every interview, she showed off enough comedic courage to even tease Letterman. Her approach to award season seems genuinely fun, suggesting that it does not matter if she wins. She’ll get the next one, or the one after that, and so on. She will be one of the greatest actresses of our generation because she serves as proof that great humor is rooted in great acting. JLaw is an important reminder that comedy can be as high of an art as drama, and that is the sexiest thing an actor can do to me.

In my search to find answers about my boyfriend’s hypothetical intimate preferences, I sure learned a lot about my own. I can’t be jealous of Jennifer Lawrence when I’m in love with Jennifer Lawrence. I support my boyfriend’s choices and only hope that her talent can be transmitted sexually.

This time we were in the comforts of my kitchen, still drinking coffee, attempting our lists of famous freebies again. More confident this time around, I playfully suggested we switch lists and draft them for each other. While I was certain mine would be returned full of football players I’ve never heard of, I had a plan. I took my time writing before giving him a folded sheet of paper and a kiss on the cheek. It simply read  JLAW circled with a giant heart.  He smiled and said, “that’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Me too, boyfriend. Me too.

Dear Prospective Employers,

I’ve been working since I was 14 and I am still qualified for nothing. That’s got to count for something. 

Please Like Me,

Lauren

Dear Weather,

I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed. 

Love,
Lauren

The smartest thing I’ve ever heard came out of a 14 yr old girl in a bed stuy laundromat: “You’re too young to have sex, look at all your pimples. Your body can’t even deal with your hormones, how can you?!”

Guy: I can’t keep dating myself.

Girl: BUT YOU LOVE HIM!

Me: You love pop songs. Who sings this?

Boyfriend: I don’t know.

Me: What kind of girl are you?

Boyfriend: I’m a bad…

Me: You almost called yourself a bad girl!

BOYFRIEND: Don’t kiss me too much, I don’t want to lose the taste of cookies in my mouth.

ME: …

BOYFRIEND: I’m a fucking child.