This is the end of the first week for The Hairpin and the Prisoner of Azkaban; it’s been quite the ride, hasn’t it? We cut through the Aquanet fog and discovered that Mark-Paul Gosselaar was part Indonesian and had to dye his hair to keep up Normal Blond American Male appearances (!!!), got our horoscopes read by a galactic rabbit, almost got rabies, explored the devil’s garden, read only the good parts of Vogue, learned a little French with Amour et Turbulences, traveled to distant lands with our distant boyfriends, paired literary figures with their perfumes, questioned the necessity of hygiene, and shut down the blame on celebrities in this week’s nude hacking scandal. We did good.
Behind the scenes: Haley kept it together like a goddamned goddess, I asked a lot of questions about Canada, and nobody died. We’re happy and proud of what we’ve done so far, but we want to hear from you too: email or comment or tweet or just show up at our houses, if you want, as long as you have cake.
Meanwhile, across town, in other lady news: Our genius friend Mary H.K. Choi wrote a book; the beautiful and terrifying Mallory Ortberg gave a kickass reading in Brooklyn to throngs of literary minded women in button down shirts and oversized glasses (I was one of them); Heather Havilresky wrote this wonderful, crazypants piece in the New Yorker. I have gone 14 days without a burrito and am growing weaker by the second. Some girls are stronger than others. See you Monday. Here’s a photo of my dog.