The Rules: According to Me
A guide you didn’t ask for—but probably need.
I’ve lived 31.458 gorgeous años on this planet. That makes me a qualified life-liver—and therefore, I make the rules.
These are my 31 rules. May they save you from yourself, and more importantly, from annoying me.
Tailor your clothes. Even sweatpants. Especially the sweatpants.
Don’t get a visible tattoo unless you’re extroverted and/or actually want to discuss the meaning behind it (or lack thereof).
Don’t tell someone something negative another person said about them. And if you have to say “no offense” before you speak—don’t.
Have your wedding filmed like a reality show. One cinematic highlight reel, one chaotic docu-style cut with little conversations, glances, reactions, and confessionals. You’ll want both.
Use a tongue scraper.
Put AirTags in your luggage.
Don’t bring up something someone did or said online in real life. We’re all living double lives and we reserve the right to do so in peace. Same goes for blackout behavior: if they don’t remember, it’s none of their business.
Have a BM (bad mood) depression/anxiety folder on your computer or phone: happy pics, serotonin TikToks, that breathing video you never want to search for mid-panic, the song that regulates your nervous system. Emotional CPR, ready to go.
Buy it nice or buy it twice.
Don’t put it down—put it away.
Low-maintenance is cute until it becomes self-abandonment. Ask for the lemon wedge, just don’t throw it. Don’t be a brat, but do speak up, own your quirks, laugh at your stupid preferences and take up space—without making it anyone else’s problem.
Don’t go to the grocery store when you’re hungry, and don’t go shopping for clothes when you’re having a great hair day.