Pastels, chocolate eggs, trying to make everything bunny shaped- it doesn’t make a ton of sense to me. Granted I’m not religious and should probably be more tolerant, but also there are enough Catholics in power that I feel okay making a few off-color Easter jokes. (Was that a pun? Or a stretching pun? Should we have more categories for puns?)

The thing about holidays is they remind me of other holidays, which sends me on a roller coaster of Easters past. Take last year when I woke up in the room I shared on the Upper West Side nursing a heavy-beer-and-ex-boyfriend hangover, then tried to swear off beer and ex-boyfriends (and also cigarettes and probably sugar) and had to buy the non-name-brand Plan B so that I could also buy an almond milk latte. This year is better. I may live with my stuffed animals in the back room of my parents’ house but at least the groceries are free.