Winona Dimeo-Ediger

For example, if you’re having gastrointenstinal distress, resist the urge to hashtag it with something generic like #diarrheacramps. Instead, include your first and last name and the date to make it your own: #LynnSmithDiarrheaCrampsFebruary2016.

The other day I met up with my friend Paige at a coffee shop. She went to the bathroom, came back, and said, “So, the toilet paper roll was empty, and I almost didn’t put a new roll on, but then I thought, ‘Be the change you want to see in the world,’ and I changed it.” She beamed triumphantly, and I said, “Paige, you’re a hero.”

But my God, have you read a celebrity gossip rag recently? They make Vogue and InStyle seem like forward-thinking beacons of body positivity and intersectional feminism.

Have you guys tried those “adult” Lego sets? They’re not “adult” in, like, a “build your own dildo” way (although I’m sure that’s a thing on eBay) but in a “you follow instructions that are probably too advanced for your 3-year-old nephew to follow and feel super smart and accomplished when you put the final piece on the top of your small-scale replica of the Eiffel Tower” way.

Dear bikini manufacturers: Not all short, curvy women want to channel their inner Marilyn Monroe.

Dear Winona,

Clean eating is so passe, you guys. It’s time to get on board the newest trend: dirty eating!

Obviously I’m not talking about serious travel disasters or any situation that’s dangerous or harmful, but things like missing a bus, getting hopelessly lost, or having an emotional breakdown while in line for the London Eye (been there, done that) are actually blessings in disguis

If you don’t have a pair of pixie pants, girl, you need to get a pair of pixie pants.

I call this happiness by proxy