Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Four Years Of Marriage & An Upstate Adventure

Last Wednesday, Daniel and I celebrated our four year wedding anniversary. FOUR YEARS, folks. FOUR. That's a solid chunk of time. I mean, have you met a four-year-old before? Those things can talk and walk and count to ten and sing every verse of "You Are My Sunshine." Take any four-year-old child born on August 19, 2011, and that's basically the human embodiment of our marriage. We are growing up so fast!

To celebrate this huge achievement of still liking each other, we did the thing we love to do. We went north. 

To upstate New York, of course. Ah, upstate New York, why are you so beautiful? Why are your antique shops so cute and your people so nice and your mountains so majestic? And why is your real estate so tantalizingly reasonable, so much so that I allow myself to fantasize about buying a house in one of your charming little towns and opening a bed & breakfast even though I am not particularly hospitable and I don't like strangers in my home?

Needless to say, we love going upstate. Over the years, cabin trips have sort of become our thing. We do them maybe more than we should, or maybe we don't do them enough, I can't decide. When we travel upstate (usually just 2 hours north to the Catskills Mountains), I become a different person. I am Catskill Christy, if you will. Catskill Christy doesn't wear a stitch of makeup. She eats a lot of cheese and drinks a lot of red wine. She can't stop singing Dixie Chicks songs, particularly the song "Wide Open Spaces." She only briefly logs onto Instagram to post a picture of a river or something, but then after that, she turns her phone on airplane mode and is totally engaged in the world around her. Once an hour, she looks at a mountain and she sighs and says something like, "Just look at this place. God is so good," and then she eats more cheese. Catskill Christy eats so much GD cheese.

Also, ice cream.
On this particular occasion, Catskill Christy and Daniel (he's the same good-natured person wherever he goes, so he doesn't need a Catskill persona) went to a little town called Narrowsburg. Back in November, we traveled to this very same place for Thanksgiving. Since we drove up during a terrifying blizzard, we remember that trip as the time we narrowly cheated death. I'll never forget driving up a hill of ice, certain that I was about to meet Jesus. Honestly, though, our near-death experience was totally worth it because THIS is what greeted us upon our arrival:

Meet The Cutest Little House in Narrowsburg (it's actual title on Airbnb). We loved our stay at this place so much that we agreed we would have to come back and see what it was like in the summer. We'd heard there was a swimming hole nearby, and given the fact that neither of us could even picture what a swimming hole was (we assumed it was a hole filled with water, but how deep? how wide? how many snakes?), we figured we'd need to see it for ourselves. For the record, in the summer, The Cutest Little House in Narrowsburg looks like this:

I've got a hunch it's cute in any season.

While in Narrowsburg, we did some antiquing and for a moment I genuinely considered creating an Instagram store with all of my favorite vintage clothing and oddities (jk lol no but srsly would you buy things from me? I have good taste maybeeeee).

We also did some mountain-hiking, some river-splashing, some steak-cooking, some fire sitting-bying, some premixed margarita-drinking, a hefty amount of cheese-eating, and some boggle-playing (and for me, specifically, some boggle-dominating).

On our way back home, we stopped at Storm King Art Center, which is a huge -- no, I mean, HUGE -- sculpture park. Actually, scrap whatever mental image you've conjured up after hearing the words "huge sculpture park" because I promise you it's not good enough, and just feast your eyeballs on all of THIS:

Seriously, Storm King had me at hello. While we were there, I actually discovered that I had a TICK on my arm, sucking all of the life force out of me, and even so I still could not stop feeling like the luckiest kid in the world (We removed the tick. Everything is fine). I can't wait to return to take pictures that don't include my frightening tan lines. 

While I love so many things about these little getaways, the best part by far is getting to spend them with my favorite travel buddy, Daniel. Did I mention he and I have been married for four years? Well, we have, and they've been four of the coolest years I could imagine, full of adventure and friendship and laughter.

Four years ago, before we got married, I remember mentally preparing for hard times. It's what a lot of well-intentioned people warn you about as you enter into marriage. And sure, those times creep up every once in a while because life is life and life is tough. But honestly, at it's best, I think marriage can just be easy. It's something I feel like Daniel has always understood. When he proposed to me, I remember very little about what he actually said because, well, my brain was exploding, but one thing I do remember him saying was this: "I can't wait to sing in the car with you for the rest of my life." On these trips upstate, that's exactly what we do. We crank up some 90s country music, we sing, we laugh, we eat chips. Easy. 

So here's to vacations, A+ husbands, and easy, easy love!

Four more years! Four more years!

Friday, August 14, 2015

7 Things I Liked On The Internet This Week

As a person who regularly creates things for the Internet and expects people to respond by saying, "Brava! Well done! Your blog post about cat names changed my life," I thought it might be time to return the favor. I mean, believe it or not, I'm not only a producer of Internet content, but I am also a consumer. A big one. Articles, videos, blog posts, pet listings, baby name generators -- you name it, I'm distracting myself with it.

That being said, today I thought I'd share some of my favorite things from my Internet stumblings this week. Maybe I'll make this list a regular habit, who knows! Don't pressure me!

1. I've been on a big Reductress kick lately. If you're unfamiliar, Reductress is basically a lady-centric version of The Onion -- fake op-eds, ridiculous headlines, and just unfairly funny writing. This week I recommend a piece by Loretta Donelan called Which Ragged Little Child Is Hiding Under Your Maxi Dress?

2. Speaking of funny things and women and funny women who say and do funny things -- we're all reading The Daily Tay, right? She's one of the good ones. And this week, she brought some realness with her post all about staying sane in the world of blogging. Plus, this morning, she instagrammed this picture of a shrimp-garnished bloody mary, so you just know she is killing it this week.

3. This Buzzfeed post about how most women put on their bras stopped me dead in my tracks. Apparently MOST WOMEN clasp their bras in the front and turn them around? HUH?! I might have done that when I was nine-years-old (yeah, you heard right: I wore a bra at nine-years-old. It paired very nicely with my unibrow), but not no mo. Please, people, weigh in on this! I am concerned!

4. Hellogiggles posted this video of a girl who can make her voice sound like it's autotuned, but like, in a good way. Afterwards, I stalked her Instagram for roughly an hour until I realized she was in high school and then I commenced questioning all of my life choices.

5. Warning: this Clickhole video of bakers watching their beloved loaves of freshly baked bread turned into bread bowls will leave you in tears. Panera, how dare you!

6. I tend to spend a lot of time on, and admit it, so do you. This week, I discovered Alicia, and my heart will never be the same. I am convinced that the first thing a person sees when they get to the pearly gates of heaven may very well be this face:

7. Lastly, remember Wishbone? The tv-dog who taught you to be curious about history, but only insomuch as that history related to your own mundane life? Well, writer Abbey Fenbert, in a piece published in The Toast, has done the brave thing of imagining how this timeless classic was first pitched to PBS execs. Read it. Love it. Live it. (It wasn't published this week, but don't get picky. I'm broadening your horizons).

What did you find on the Internet this week?

P.S. After creating this list, I realized that I only posted content from women -- funny, brilliant, laugh-so-hard-I-cry sort of women -- which probably speaks to a slight bias that is present in my current media diet. I'll try to diversify next week, maybe.

P.P.S After I published this post and created a graphic, I realized I left something important off the list, however, it's 5:30 on Friday, so do you mind if I don't change the title? Cool. Here's the 8th thing I liked on the Internet this week:

I found this really helpful, albeit fairly new website called Workfrom. Freelancers, you'll want to get in on this. It's like Yelp for remote workspaces -- coffee shops, libraries, coworking spaces, etc. I used it this week, and thus discovered the beautiful Marlton Hotel lobby.

I worked there on Wednesday afternoon and pretended I was Hemingway even though I was writing a story about a time I threw up in a mall.


Wednesday, August 12, 2015

My Tortured Relationship With Email

Up until very recently, I had over 2,000 unopened messages in my Gmail inbox. Does that freak you out? It's okay if it does. Obviously these neglected emails weren't from family members or business contacts, and they certainly weren't declarations of unrequited love (those I make sure to open right away). No, these emails were just promotions from stores, newsletters I accidentally subscribed to, and really weird PR requests (this might be a good time to let PR reps know that I will never write an article about some former NCIS cast member who is publishing a book about salads. Not my thing).

When I've explained my inbox situation, many people usually respond, "Oh girl, that's a lot," or "OH GIRL, I've got 5,000 emails in mine!" There are others, however, who've nearly started convulsing at the mere thought of the unopened emails I've accumulated. You would have thought that instead of saying I had a crowded inbox full of emails, I had said that I had a crowded refrigerator full of human heads. "What?! Are you serious? How could you, you MONSTER?!"

And while I can't quite relate with this intense reaction, I totally get that email is a thing that stresses people out. I mean, hello, it stresses me out. Recently, I caved and decided to perform a merciless inbox purge. I used to unsubscribe from over 500 lists and I blocked the MTA from sending me updates about the B train every three minutes. As of right now, I only have one new email in my inbox.

And you know what, my life isn't any better for it.

Honestly, now my inbox is just this thing that I'm constantly having to maintain, like a garden that I never asked for or some unsightly upper lip hairs THAT I DEFINITELY DO NOT HAVE OKAY?! Every day it seems like I'm somehow added to more lists or I'm missing an important email because it ends up in my spam folder. Keeping up with the health of my inbox just feels like I'm fighting a losing battle.

But email wasn't always like this. In fact, there used to be a certain romance to the concept of email. I know this because of the film You've Got Mail, the 1998 classic wherein a highly unlikely pair -- an owner of a bookstore and an owner of a larger bookstore -- develop a romance by sending lengthy emails about bouquets of pencils and the Upper West Side and whatever else those two weirdos felt like gabbing about. I also know about the romance of email because of a string of technology-centered love songs that came out in the late 90s, the most delightful of which was certainly Britney Spears's Email My Heart (by the way, if you've not heard this song before, or if it's been a good ten years since you last heard it, treat yourself to a listen. It's pure gold).

So what happened exactly? How did email get to be so unsexy? While I can't be completely certain, I would say that the decline began with email forwards -- those chain letters that usually ended with "FORWARD THIS 2 10 PEOPLE OR ELSE UR TRU <3 WILL DIE VIOLENTLY IN A FYRE!" It got particularly bad once elderly relatives caught wind of this practice. I mean, there is nothing like an email forward to make a person realize that their Uncle Jeff is actually a racist. 

But for me, email started becoming the impossible headache that it is whenever I signed up for Gap's newsletter. Did you know that Gap owns, like, everything? Gap, Baby Gap, Gap Body, Old Navy, Old Navy Outlet, Banana Republic, Athleta, Piperlime -- these are all Gap subsidiaries. And do you know how I know that? Because ALL THESE FOOLS ARE SENDING ME EMAILS ON THE REG. LIKE, EVERY DAMN HOUR OF EVERY DAMN DAY. 

And I know I can just unsubscribe (and believe me, I have), but ugh, you get the picture: email has a lot of problems. Spam, viruses, privacy concerns -- these are just a few of the most common things that suck about it. But there's also the embarrassment of accidentally hitting "Reply All" or that feeling in the pit of your stomach when you wake up at 3 AM realizing you forgot to respond to that urgent email and now you're probably fired. It's all just rough.

But email is a necessary evil. I know this. Without it, I wouldn't receive super helpful newsletters from The Nectar Collective or amazing memes from my sister, such as this gem:

So sure, there are definitely upsides. But still, I sometimes reminisce about the days when I didn't have an email account. It was a time in which I was just a little less accessible. I was, like, ten-years-old, but whatever, you catch my drift: I was a freer person back then. There wasn't some strange place on the Internet where Gap could send me targeted ads about stretchy denim. When someone sent me mail, it was usually my grandma, and I never felt rushed to respond to it. And as far as I knew at that time, spam was just some terrible meat my dad was always eating straight out of the can. Life was simpler then.

But I'm not ten-years-old anymore. I'm a grown ass lady with grown ass responsibilities and a grown ass inbox to prove it. And for the most part, I'm fine with it. But just, like, back up off me, Gap. 

How about you? On a scale of 1 - 1,000, how angry does your email inbox make you?

Friday, July 31, 2015

7 Things That Define My Summer 2015

During my college days, I used to work at a summer camp in Texas. For the record, it's probably my favorite job I've ever had or ever will have. Is that sad? Maybe, but honestly, there is nothing quite like the work I did at camp. I just loved facilitating groups of kids, counseling staff members, being intensely tanned and covered in chigger bites. I loved letting thirteen-year-old girls know that it's okay to be weird, or pimpled, or bookish, or to go swimming while you're on your period. I loved working alongside the best people in the world and regularly making a fool of myself to the delight of children.

See? Sheer delight on these kids' faces.
For most of my life, camp was summer. Especially during those four years that I was on staff, that place and those people were my definitive picture of summer each year. It quickly became my favorite season.

But you can't be a camp counselor forever (wait, but can you?), and when I left Texas three years ago, suddenly I started having these completely different summer experiences. Summer 2012 was all about getting my feet wet in NYC. When I think back to that year, I think of hot dogs at Grey's Papaya, trips to Coney Island, and lots of job interviews. Summer 2013 was improv classes, block parties, and Prospect Park. And last year, my summer was defined by writing deadlines, beach days, and rooftop drinks.

Now that this summer is well underway (and almost over, what?!), I can definitely spot some reoccurring themes over the last few months. Here are the things that define this summer for me:

1. Big Brother

Is anyone else watching this show?! Because if so, we should talk. This is the first season I've ever watched after YEARS of avoiding it. If you've never seen Big Brother and you're totally unfamiliar with the trope of this kind of summer reality programming, the basic idea is that 16 people live in a house for 90 days, compete in competitions, and vote each other out until one person is left standing. And while I'm typically not a fan of shows in which a bunch of sexy people live in a house together (hence my initial avoidance), I have been struck by how much actual strategy exists in Big Brother.

Like, no joke, I fantasize about playing this game, guys. That being said, here is my new life plan: I go on Big Brother, lay low for the first 30 days, build a really strong alliance called like #HottiesWithBodies, betray my alliance and ultimately win. My husband, Daniel, goes on Survivor and does the same thing. Then, we play as a team on The Amazing Race, we of course win, and together we receive the reality competition triple crown. I mean, it's a fool proof plan, right? So if anyone knows anyone at CBS, be sure to give them my number.

2. Ramen

Guys, I've been eating ramen like it's my job. I'm not talking cup-o-noodles. I'm talking legit fancy ass ramen from the best ramen shops in NYC. It's the food of my summer. In fact, the above picture was taken by my waitress at a restaurant called Ramen Ya. It was posted to their Instagram account, which by the way, if you ever want to know if you have a ramen problem, being Instagrammed by a reputable ramen restaurant is a good way to find out. At least she didn't include the following hashtags in her description: #eatingalone #sadwoman #ramenaddiction #pleasehelpher

3. Berg'n


This has become my favorite summer haunt. Berg'n is a beer hall in Crown Heights with lots of unique food and really cold air conditioning. I played trivia there the other night with some friends under the team name "Titty Titty Bang Bang" and while we definitely did not win, I'd like to think we came in 1st in Immaturity.

4. Family

My mom, dad, and five-year-old niece came into town, and it was legitimately one of my favorite visits ever. It was the first time I've ever really been able to see this city through the eyes of a child. The above picture is my niece throwing herself into the water at the beach at Coney Island. I wish I could love anything as much as she loves flailing around in the ocean.

5. This crop top

This is my summer outfit. I wear it basically every other day. All hail the small sliver of skin that is my midriff.

6. Being a nerd

I've been up to some nerdy stuff lately, guys. I mean, besides playing trivia and obsessing over Big Brother, that is. Specifically, I've been to not one but TWO live podcast events in the last month. I know, Nerd City over here. Having taken a survey of the people who read this blog, I know that most of my readers don't even listen to podcasts, so it's likely that you don't super care about these events I went to, but whatever, I'm going to tell you anyway.

The first was a live performance from The Gilmore Guys, which if you aren't listening to the Gilmore Guys podcast, you should probably get on that. It's exactly what it sounds like: just two guys gabbing about Gilmore Girls, and as I'm sure you can imagine, it's everything. The second podcast event I attended was called Cast Party. It was a night featuring live performances by some of my favorite podcast superstars, the hosts of Reply All, Invisibilia, With Special Guest Lauren Lapkus, The Truth, and Radio Lab. Again, I know you don't care, but there you have it.

7. Goodbyes

This picture was actually taken last summer, but whatever, you get the idea -- I like these people.

This last week, I said goodbye to one of my very dearest friends, Clint, who is moving to LA because he's a crazy talented musician and that's where crazy talented musicians go, I guess. Actually, this month, I'll be saying goodbye to a few more close friends, and it's honestly a strange feeling. We twenty-somethings are a transient group of people, so I'm certainly no stranger to having to bid adieu to friends in this city. But this particular season of friends moving has left me questioning what the remainder of my NYC journey looks like.

Daniel and I have never been people with a five-year-plan. We've always said that when we're ready to leave, we'll know. While I'm not feeling the push to get out of New York any time soon, I have to admit that I'm a little curious what the next step will be. Seeing my friends step out into new adventures in new cities has me wondering what our next new adventure is going to look like. Will it be a career shift? Will there be a baby involved? (AAAHHH!) I don't know, but in the meantime, we'll just keep on crushing it in the best city in the world.

What are the things that define your summer?

Thursday, July 16, 2015

The Best Deals I Found On Amazon Prime Day

I spent a good part of yesterday in a state of temporary insanity. Probably the best evidence of this fact is a series of about a gagillion text messages I sent to my husband even though I knew for certain he was in a meeting. Here are just a few of them:

Are we the kind of people who could use a record player that looks like a briefcase? Yes, right?

Daniel! Daniel! Daniel! A memory foam mattress for JUST $300!!!

Do we need moscow mule mugs? There isn't much time! THE CLOCK IS TICKING!

The reason behind my momentary madness stemmed from the fact that yesterday marked the much-anticipated Amazon Prime Day. Surely, you've already heard all about this historic day. It was the 24-hour sale put on by the folks at in celebration of their 20 year anniversary. In the weeks leading up to it, it was rumored that this sale would be so big, with savings so astronomical that it would rival -- nay -- obliterate any of their Black Friday deals. The confidence and bravado with which Amazon hyped up this event sent savvy shoppers such as myself into a wild frenzy of speculation. What would be on sale? How low would these prices actually be? The world began anticipating this day as though it were the second coming of Christ, or at the very least, a grand opening of a Chick fil A.

But come the day of this momentous sale, many were left with shattered expectations. By now you've certainly seen all of the #PrimeDayFail posts on Twitter and you've read the corresponding Buzzfeed listicles that detailed the general sense of consumer dissatisfaction. By and large, shoppers were less than impressed by what Amazon had to offer. Many likened Prime Day to the clearance shelf at a Ross Dress For Less.

But personally, I think that's a little unfair. I mean, first off, what were you expecting? It's AMAZON, the same place where you can buy chairs shaped like high-heeled shoes and 113 different varieties of bubba teeth. They have never once claimed to be the tastemakers of this great nation.

Second, friends, don't pretend like you didn't buy shit on Prime Day because you SO did. Someone had to because how else do you explain the fact that I was waitlisted for two garment steamers and a neti pot?!

And third, I'm just not sure I agree with the premise that Amazon was only selling a bunch of junk yesterday. I actually found a lot of useful items. For instance, here are some of the best deals I found during my Amazon Prime Day shopping spree:

1. This incredibly necessary crystal ball:

For when you enroll in Professor Trelawney's Divination class. Duh. 

2. This pizza oven which makes the impossible possible:

Pizza? Made in the great outdoors? AND IT'S PORTABLE? I'll take 12!

3. This educational program that DEFINITELY doesn't not work:

If I'd had this eight years ago, I wouldn't have wasted literally thousands of dollars studying Vocal Performance at the Baylor School of Music. 

4. This Public Service Announcement of a t-shirt:

Even though the title of this listing and the actual slogan of the shirt don't seem to agree, I still sympathize with this intensely muscled creature for his inability to keep his clothing intact. Must be rough.

5. This fulfillment of all of my childhood dreams:

I mean, seriously! It only costs $400 to live out every ambition of my eight-year-old self (and by every ambition, I mean only ambition because, as far as I was concerned at that age, owning a personal snow cone machine was the definitive definition of success).

6. Whatever the hell this is:

This purchase probably made someone extremely happy. Not sure who exactly, but still, I'm sure they were jazzed.

7. This sexy lingerie:

For whatever reason, I feel like I saw this image roughly 900 times while sifting through Amazon's Prime Day lightning deals. Not sure why it was never 100% claimed, but perhaps it has something to do with the fact that these bras look like they have been worn by 10,000 different women to the point that they resemble the deflated skins of a twice baked potato. But still, $17, what a steal!

8. These exact replicas of the cast of Twilight:

The designers of these dolls perfectly captured Kristen Stewart's coiffed hair, classic pencil skirt ensemble, and trademark ear-to-ear smile. 

9. This claustrophobic death trap: 

Because $800 is a small price to pay when it comes to sitting in a hot, tiny sweatbox with someone you love.

10. This perfectly marketed set of tube tops:

I can tell that these tube tops come in a pack of 2 because they are being modeled by twins. How else would I have known? HOW?!

11. This majestic work of art:

No joke: I am kicking myself for not buying this. I genuinely think it's amazing. 

12. This tantalizing night gown:

For those inevitable times in life when you need to dress up as a ghost or Ophelia in Act IV of Hamlet.

13: This cup of urine: 

JK. It's just a cup. The urine is sold separately.

So there you have it, folks. In my book, Amazon Prime Day was a total success and absolutely DID NOT cause me to waste 4 hours of my life that I will never get back.

Did you score any Prime Day deals? Tell me all about it!

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

I've Found My Name-Song

While I'm happy for him, I have to admit, I've always been jealous of the fact that Elton John wrote a song about my husband, Daniel. And you know what, while we're making confessions here, I've got to say I've often felt a slight tinge of envy over the fact that Bob Dylan composed a seven-minute ballad for my sister, Johanna. Even my college roommate, Kelsey, had a band called Metro Station singing her praises on the radio a few years back.

And look, while in reality I understand that these songs weren't actually written in honor of these people I know, I still can't help but think of them every time I hear their corresponding name-songs.

♫ Daniel is traveling tonight on a plane.... ♫

♫ These visions of Johanna, they kept me up past the dawn... ♫

♫ I'd swim the ocean for you, oh, Kelsey... ♫

I've heard somewhere that everyone's favorite word is their own name, and if that narcissistic factoid is true, it explains why I got so excited when I found out that there is a song out there called "Christy". Before this, the closest I'd ever come to the whole "this song is about me!" front is probably Van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl." But let's be honest, isn't that song basically about all of us? I mean, if over half of the population has brown eyes, and half of the population is made up of women, doesn't that mean that the description applies to roughly a quarter of the entire world's population? (Is that how math works?)

Anyway, as of this week, it seems as though my luck has changed in the name-song department. My sister, Johanna (the one Bob Dylan was having all of those visions about) introduced me to a track by Natalie Prass called "Christy", and folks, it's perfect. It's this hauntingly beautiful melody set to baroque, orchestral sounds, and well, I'm just in love with it. And it's not because it has my name in it (but guys, it totally has my name in it).

Take a listen:

♫ Christy, a name that isn't too short or too sweet...

♫ There's a shadow of a smile in your eyes, Christy...♫ 

If you pay close attention, you'll note that the Christy that Prass is singing about here exactly an awesome person. It's kind of like a Jolene situation -- you know, the one where Dolly Parton pleads with a woman named Jolene: "I'm begging you, please don't take my man." (Damn, I love that song so much).

But while that characterization is not necessarily on-brand for me, I still dig my new name-song. After listening to and falling in love with it, I wanted to see if there were by chance any other Christy songs out there that I'd missed. And oh my, YouTube delivered.

♫ Christy, yeah, she's gonna break your heart again♫ 

Apparently, Christy is a name that is associated with heartbreak. Who knew? But anyway, this poppy, punky anthem from 2001 is by a group called Tina & The Total Babes, which...hang on...IS THAT NOT THE BEST BAND NAME EVER? I Wikipedia'd them and it turns out they ultimately changed their name to Trashwomen, which in my opinion, is a total downgrade, but whatever. I still dig this song. The Christy in this tune is less of a seductress with ill-intent and more of a bad ass lady who doesn't trust men, applies red lipstick at midnight, and is "too cool to care" about her torn stockings. Plus, it seems she's also a total Hottie McHotHot, so of course, this song gets my stamp of approval.

I'm sure there are other songs out there called "Christy", but as you can see, I'm quite satisfied with the ones I've got right here. I'll probably play them while giving myself positive affirmations in the mirror each morning. Kidding, I don't do that (but if I did, it would probably look a lot like this).

And since I found my name-songs, I figured I might as well pay it forward. Here's all of the songs that I can think of off the top of my head that invoke a woman's name, so if any of these apply to you, you're welcome:

If your name is April... try April by Simon & Garfunkel.

If your name is Amanda... try Amanda by Boston.

If your name is Julia... try Me and Julio Down By The Schoolyard by Simon & Garfunkel, and just pretend he's just mispronouncing your name.

If your name is Maria... try Maria from West Side Story, OR if you're feeling a bit down on yourself, try How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria? from The Sound of Music. Or I guess you could try Ave Maria, but you know, don't be weird.

If your name is Beyoncé...try Yonce by Queen Bey.

If your name is Monica, Erica, Rita, Tina, Sandra, Mary, Jessica, Angela, or Pamela...obviously you should try Mambo Number 5 by Lou Bega, and then you can proceed to curse the day that you ever heard that song because it's the worst and it stays in your head forever.

Meh, I've run out of steam on this charitable endeavor. Sorry about that. But still, I'm dying to know...

What's your name-song?


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