Seven reasons why Tina Fey rocks


First of all, relax. There will be no tractors in this post. I don’t want any closet Tibetters experiencing post traumatic stress syndrome from the title. Instead, this post is an affirmation of my continual adoration of Tina Fey. After Tina’s Emmy night thanking of all the gay partners of her cast and crew, I thought it wasn’t possible to love her more. But, oh, how I was wrong. Earlier this week, she flew back from Los Angeles to New York, Emmy in tow. This picture reaffirms my adoration, and then some. How do I love Tina Fey? Let me count the ways.

1. Bi-curious Shoes. Come on. Seriously. After two beers those shoes would totally make out with you at a party.

2. Bubble Wrap: She wrapped her Emmy in bubble wrap. Oh, God, I may pass out from the cuteness.

3. Reduce, Reuse: Forget Louis Vuitton — just recycle an old shopping bag and voila: instant carry-on luggage.

4. Candid Camera: Paparazzi have clearly surprised her at the airport and yet she smiles. Me, I would be temped to undo some of the bubble wrap from that Emmy and go after them with its pointy wings.

5. No Calls: Look ma, no phone. No phone at her ear. No phone in her hand. No phone visible anywhere to remind us, “Look, I am a very important person. I need to talk with other very important people. Also, someone bring me a Starbucks.”

6. Blue Heaven: This is what blue jeans are supposed to look like. They actually sit at her waist. They aren‘t falling off her hips or exposing her whale tail. They aren’t skinny and ridiculously tapered at the ankle. This is what blue jeans are supposed to look like.

7. Her Peeps: Entourage? What entourage? No personal assistants. No bodyguard. No agent. No hangers on. No one carrying a boom box to herald her entrance into every room. What? They used to do that in the ’80s. For real.

And finally, a confession. Earlier this week I totally wore this exact same outfit. True story. Indigo-wash jeans. Navy polo. Converse All-Stars. Sunglasses. I live in California; I’ve had shades surgically implanted onto my face. OK, that last part’s not true. But the rest, spot on. Fine, I don’t have an Emmy. But, I do have an amazing amount of bubble wrap in my utility closet. You know, just in case.

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