Category: Nostalgia

Scouts’ Honor: A Definitive Ranking of Girl Scout Cookies

If I were to dig up my old sash from Girl Scouts, you’d find the badges still straight pinned to it. My mom never took the time to sew them on and make my hard-earned badges a permanent fixture of my childhood. I assume this is partially because who the hell wants to take the time to sew those tiny ass badges on that cheap sash, and also partially because my mom knew my time in the scouts was fleeting.

If that’s what she thought, she wasn’t wrong. Like everything else I tried as a kid, I quickly gave up on the Scouts. What my mom lacked in badge sewing, she surely made up for in making sure I took cookie sales seriously. It wasn’t hard; after all, the top prize was a stuffed animal, and I just knew it had to be mine (even the year when the theme was “wolves,” which I’m pretty sure was just residual prizes from Boy Scouts because how the hell do you figure little girls are going to bust their cookie selling asses to earn wolf merch?). This salesmanship (saleswomanship?) stuck with me, and I later went on to work in retail and outside sales, excelling at both. Today, I’ve sold you on this essay, and you’ve managed to make it to the end of paragraph two, so it’s obvious I know what I’m doing.

While the badges faded (and likely fell off; they really weren’t affixed properly) and the stuffed animal prizes were (begrudgingly) donated, what persevered is my love of Girl Scout cookies. Girl Scout cookies is a season. It means it’s time to take a break from whatever new-year, new-me bullshit I agreed to four weeks prior. It means it’s time to allow myself to have cookies for breakfast and justify it as a thing that happens only once a year (HA!). Many of you are probably sitting on a crisp $50 you have ear-marked for cookies (am I the only one with a Girl Scout cookie budget?) but are feeling lost with the plethora of choices, so I’ve taken it upon myself to rank these cookies for you (you’re welcome). In order of importance: (more…)

My Size Barbie


I was one of those weird kids who played with Barbies a little too long. Like, the age in early adolescence when parents start getting concerned thinking, “God, please don’t let my kid be the one who takes her dolls to high school with her.” Much to my parents relief, I finally packed away my giant Tupperware tub of plastic bodied blondes just shy of the eighth grade.