Crap, the lobster-face. I jog - not run, jog - for a minute and I start turning funny shades of red. By the time I’ve finished a normal workout of 30 mins of cardio and 30 min pilates/yoga/stretching, I’m literally fire engine red. “Nope, I’m fine, this is just how my body copes!”

I haven’t bought a colored shirt in years, probably since middle school. It can be 50* outside and I’ll sweat through a tee-shirt even if I’m not ‘feeling hot.’ I pretty much live in black tees simply because they’re harder to see gross pit sweatiness.

Oh there are a fair few of us. I got sick four weeks into my last semester of graduate school. I did finish my degree by the skin of my teeth. I haven’t held a full-time job since, and I likely never will.

They are involved in a number of really great causes - they’re the reason I found TOMS shoes, so that’s a win - and they make beer, so they can’t be all that bad!

I kind of like that they aren’t that popular anymore. They play smaller venues and the atmosphere is relaxed and happy - none of that ear-piercing shrieking noise that can only come out of 12 year old girls. I make a point of seeing them whenever they come through.

It’s in my gym playlist. Still.

You’re not the only one. I still enjoy Hanson. My husband thinks I’m crazy. But ‘Thinkin’ Bout Something’ is so fucking catchy.

They’re the only bras I buy anymore. They’re expensive, but so worth it. Mine are virtually indestructible, even after the husband puts them through the dryer on accident.

Gosh, yes. By about season three, you start realising that you feel some strange empathy towards him. I still think he’s a raging, egomaniacal turd, but in a way that makes sense.