Last Saturday, as I was writing my review of Broadway by the Bay's Into the Woods, an episode of Malcolm Gladwell's Revisionist History began playing. Within seconds, I was able to summarize the entire episode in a few sentences: 

"They're going to say that Olympic silver medalists feel worse than bronze medalists, because silver medalists upward social compare ('I could have been the best in the world, but I'm not,') and bronze medalists downward social compare ('I'm so happy I got a medal!')."

While traveling in Malaysia this year, I met the most amazing woman. Vivacious, brilliant, and adventurous, this girl and I kayaked several miles of open sea in search of fish species we'd never seen before. We lay on the beach all night, watching the stars and eating watermelon infused with duty-free vodka. We trekked the python- and cobra-filled jungle in search of the elusive Penis Plant. 

"She only got in because she's an athlete."

"He only got in because he's black. I had a much higher SAT score, and I didn't get in."

"Of course she got in! She's Mexican, gay, and disabled. A triple-threat minority!"

​"Yeah, but he's a legacy student."

​Jealousy is ugly... and if you're someone who's been admitted to a prestigious prep school or university, chances are you've heard someone say something ugly about why you got in. 

They might be right. They might be wrong. They might just be spiteful. Regardless, who cares? You got in, and they didn't.

Yesterday, I wrote about how there's a difference between helping a depressed friend and enabling an abuser. My intention was to inform those whose friends suffer from mental illness to be compassionate... but remember to think critically about your actions and the effects they may have on your friend and his/her partner. 

Today, I'm writing a quick reminder to those who are, or may be, affected by mental illness:

Your partner is not your emotional slave.

Image: @TheHappyTalent on Instagram

Last night, I debuted my first-ever original Christmas song -- and, a few mistakes notwithstanding, it went pretty well! 

Which is funny, because when I decided to write a Christmas song, I thought there was about a 1% chance I'd create something that wasn't embarrassingly awful and cheesy. 

​So how did I do it?

Simple. 

​I tied a hand behind my back.

Image: @TheHappyTalent on Instagram

Last Wednesday, I was at the rock wall, waiting for my climbing partner, who was running late. Mindlessly, I started scrolling through my newsfeed... when I saw an ad for a Fleetwood Mac concert! 

I clicked the link, even though I was pretty sure I wouldn't actually go, since I'm bad at planning things in advance. But it turns out the concert was that night! In the moments before my climbing buddy arrived, I texted a friend to see if he was game, and booked our tickets. I had time for about 45 minutes of climbing before the show! 

Next thing I knew, I was in the 5th row at Fleetwood Mac, about to take a selfie during the chorus of Landslide, one of the most legendary songs of all time... when Stevie Nicks suddenly stopped singing and said, "What's happening? What happened? I lost the key!"
​

One of the most ridiculous (not rediculous) things you hear about dating is the absurd claim that "girls like jerks" and "nice guys finish last."

The reality is that, sure. Some girls like guys who are kinda jerks. But they don't like them because they're jerks. They like them in spite of it. 

Most likely because they have so much else to offer. 

From: Candytopia on Facebook

A "critic" who writes for the New York Times was recently paid to attend several (five?) ​Instagramable  museums, factories and mansions. In her own words, "They nearly broke me."

And that made my heart break a little... for her.

Something major happens on the first day of October (and, sometimes, the first day of September) every year:

The menu at your favorite coffee shop changes. Just a little. But it is a very big deal.

We've all heard dudes lament that flirting/hitting on girls/commenting on women's bodies is "only creepy when the guy is unattractive."

​Some women boldly declare the same.