Colorado. Runner. Yogi. Fucking hilarious, like, 17% of the time.

mrs. peel, we're needed

Do you want to know how I got my name? Right now, everyone knows a little girl named Emma. Going to Target gives me a persecution complex because angry moms and dads are screaming "EMMA, PUT THAT DOWN" every five minutes.

Emma was already on the upswing (as you can see) when Rachel and Ross decided to name their new daughter Emma (fuck you again, writers of Friends). When I was born, it was #413 in popularity. I was frequently asked if it's short for something. Like what? Emily? I actually have a distinct memory of telling my mom I wanted to go by Emily because my name was stupid, or something to that effect. I could never find it on personalized license plates or keychains, and as a little girl who even then was obsessed with personal branding, that was a serious crisis. Little girl Emmas today can find anything they want with their name on it, those lil brats.

You know what I have that the little baby Emmas of the world don't, though?

A bitchin namesake.

That's right. No Jane Austen roots to my name, y'all - I was named after a secret agent.

When someone says to me 'oh, my niece/daughter/cousin's husband's unborn baby is named Emma!' I nod and smile and say 'it's a great name'.

And then I think 'Gloat all you like. But just remember... I'm the star of this picture'.

Who were YOU named after?

all these things that I've done

I am a culinary genius