Alex Cooper is everything I hate in a person. She's fun, blonde, confident, loud, successful, a podcast host, and doesn't immediately shower after getting off a plane. She's everything I'm not and wish I was—my inverse psychological classification—and I'm obsessed with her.
"There are two types of people in the world: dumb smart people and smart dumb people," she says to me as we make our way through LAX airport. "Which one are we?" I ask.
"Smart dumb, obviously," she replies. A dumb smart person, she goes on to explain, is someone with zero intuition about people but "knows about, like, books, and things." Smart dumb people, I conclude, are the opposite. We are flying to New York City for the weekend—a plan we made in hopes that, if we flew across the country, there would be no choice but to leave our respective homes. It was meant to be a refreshingly chilly change of scenery from Los Angeles, where we both live. Fall, I'm told by people who live with seasons. It ended up being a frightening 75 degrees and was also, unfortunately, the last weekend in October, known to some as the dreaded "Halloweekend." Not realizing this until we had already strayed 3,000 miles from our residences, we resigned to yet another weekend of sweatpants and staying in—there was simply no other option.
I knew Alex was famous, but it turns out Alex is evidently really famous.
"Smart dumb, obviously," she replies. A dumb smart person, she goes on to explain, is someone with zero intuition about people but "knows about, like, books, and things." Smart dumb people, I conclude, are the opposite. We are flying to New York City for the weekend—a plan we made in hopes that, if we flew across the country, there would be no choice but to leave our respective homes. It was meant to be a refreshingly chilly change of scenery from Los Angeles, where we both live. Fall, I'm told by people who live with seasons. It ended up being a frightening 75 degrees and was also, unfortunately, the last weekend in October, known to some as the dreaded "Halloweekend." Not realizing this until we had already strayed 3,000 miles from our residences, we resigned to yet another weekend of sweatpants and staying in—there was simply no other option.
I knew Alex was famous, but it turns out Alex is evidently really famous." title="Alex Cooper is everything I hate in a person. She's fun, blonde, confident, loud, successful, a podcast host, and doesn't immediately shower after getting off a plane. She's everything I'm not and wish I was—my inverse psychological classification—and I'm obsessed with her.
"There are two types of people in the world: dumb smart people and smart dumb people," she says to me as we make our way through LAX airport. "Which one are we?" I ask.
"Smart dumb, obviously," she replies. A dumb smart person, she goes on to explain, is someone with zero intuition about people but "knows about, like, books, and things." Smart dumb people, I conclude, are the opposite. We are flying to New York City for the weekend—a plan we made in hopes that, if we flew across the country, there would be no choice but to leave our respective homes. It was meant to be a refreshingly chilly change of scenery from Los Angeles, where we both live. Fall, I'm told by people who live with seasons. It ended up being a frightening 75 degrees and was also, unfortunately, the last weekend in October, known to some as the dreaded "Halloweekend." Not realizing this until we had already strayed 3,000 miles from our residences, we resigned to yet another weekend of sweatpants and staying in—there was simply no other option.
I knew Alex was famous, but it turns out Alex is evidently really famous."> |
Alex Cooper is everything I hate in a person. She's fun, blonde, confident, loud, successful, a podcast host, and doesn't immediately shower after getting off a plane. She's everything I'm not and wish I was—my inverse psychological classification—and I'm obsessed with her.
"There are two types of people in the world: dumb smart people and smart dumb people," she says to me as we make our way through LAX airport. "Which one are we?" I ask.
"Smart dumb, obviously," she replies. A dumb smart person, she goes on to explain, is someone with zero intuition about people but "knows about, like, books, and things." Smart dumb people, I conclude, are the opposite. We are flying to New York City for the weekend—a plan we made in hopes that, if we flew across the country, there would be no choice but to leave our respective homes. It was meant to be a refreshingly chilly change of scenery from Los Angeles, where we both live. Fall, I'm told by people who live with seasons. It ended up being a frightening 75 degrees and was also, unfortunately, the last weekend in October, known to some as the dreaded "Halloweekend." Not realizing this until we had already strayed 3,000 miles from our residences, we resigned to yet another weekend of sweatpants and staying in—there was simply no other option.
I knew Alex was famous, but it turns out Alex is evidently really famous. |
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| Your wardrobe cannot afford to miss this |
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| It's her second year hosting the big event. |
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They want the record set straight. | |
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| They had a special shared experience. |
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| But she always forgets their song. |
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