I am not a millionaire, but I did do an interview at Z100 and that’s something, I guess.

Here’s some irony: Today, I get a facebook message from someone, telling me that he’s glad I’m “a millionaire now.”

And so, let me tell you what this millionaire went and did. Tried to buy one of those packs of men’s undershirts at Modell’s because I forgot a shirt to wear to class tonight.

And my card was denied.

Yep, just rolling in it. 

I, too, am so glad that I am finally a millionaire.

I am probably the only millionaire on the planet who cannot afford something that costs $6.99.

And before you freak out (hi, mom! hi, pop!)–don’t worry. I went to my bank and moved some money from my savings account into my regular account and so now I can once again afford men’s beater shirts. WHO WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE NOW?!

Oh, I also did an interview and played some songs on one of Z100′s podcasts, with TJ, who co-hosts with Elvis Duran for the morning show. If you wanna hear it, you can go HERE. If you wanna see what TJ and I look like when we stand next to each other under a big, neon sign that says Z100, you can go here:

And here are some random thoughts that are all vying for my attention right now: I am in love with my friends. But not, you know, in love in love. But definitely in love. My mom just texted me four little emojis at 1:24 am. A thumbs up, a smiley face, a red balloon (one of my favorite emojis, hands down), and a chinese character that I certainly don’t understand and would also bet every one of my MILLION DOLLARS that she doesn’t understand, either. I like making eye contact with people–is that strange? When I used to work at a coffee shop, it was my goal to make eye contact with every person I waited on–you know, have a real human connection. This is probably why so many strange people end up talking to me, though, I am guessing. I am hungry almost all the time, lately. My yoga teacher went 40 minutes over in class tonight. This is a gift, unless you are starving and exhausted. Guess what I was? Yep. Starving and exhausted. I wanted to take the gift back.

And buy dinner with the money I got for it.

I am also wearing my fair share of leg warmers recently. The dream of the nineties might very well be alive in Portland (as they say in Portlandia. Which is an awesome and hilarious show. Even I know this and I hardly ever watch the television, is the thing), but the dream of the eighties is alive right here in New York City.

Just look at my legs and how warm they are lately.