Emily Gould, secret Julia Allison friend and the female Paul Carr, is growing older! Like, every day, folks!
I was headed towards the cash register…when a couple cut in front of me in line. They didn’t mean to; they probably didn’t even see me… They were in their early twenties.
Any other night would surely have elicited a “Don’t you know who I am” and Street Fighter II music cueing up. But tonight, holding her dark chocolate and beer, Emily was just TOO SAD:
I went home and made myself a Greek salad and ate it out of a plastic mixing bowl and thought about how I will never be that young again.
I’ve seen her pics, and she was never very young to begin with, but poor Embo must really be feeling the bitter sting of defeat to be such a Debbie Downer.
[M]y life isn’t materially very different than it was when I was the grocery store couple’s age. All that sets me apart from them is a little bit of experience that sometimes seems like a lot and sometimes seems like not nearly enough.
Let’s forget that Emily’s blog sounds like Charlie Brown’s teacher in my head; nevermind the ungrateful, whiney tat canvas has a couple of book deals and a thousand hipster fanzies who worship her. Nope, Emily is AGING. Her life is so depressing and hard because she is doing what every other human alive does – gets older. Can nothing be done to help her???