Mindy Kaling

Die in a good way, obviously.

I've found my productive-writing-to-screwing-around ratio to be one to seven. So, for every eight hour day of writing, there is only one good productive hour of work being done. The other seven hours are preparing for writing: pacing around the house, collapsing cardboard bxes for recycling, reading the DVD extras pamphlet from BBC Pride & Prejudice, getting snacks lined up for writing, and YouTubing toddlers who learned the 'Single Ladies' dance. I know. Isn't that horrible? So, basically, writing this piece took me the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Write your own part. It's the only way I've ever gotten anywhere. It is much harder work, but sometimes you have to take destiny into your own hands. It is much harder work, but sometimes you have to take destiny into your own hands. It forces you to think about what your strengths really are, and once you find them, you can showcase them, and nobody can stop you.

I think sometimes people think cheerful is a synonym for dumb, so no one is ever cheerful.

There is a certain type of greasy hair that you get only when you are writing with no breaks.

My parents were supportive of my creativity but did not have a lot of patience for whimsy with zero production value. They had stuff to do.

It__ traumatizing to think that a best friend could become just a friend. That__ because there is virtually no difference between an acquaintance and a friend. But the gulf between a friend and a best friend is enormous and profound. And if I look at it that way, I think I can see the value of a wedding. If you__e my best friend and the only way I get to have dinner with you is by traveling thousands of miles, selecting a chicken or fish option, and wearing a dress in the same shade of lavender as six other girls, I will do that. I won't love it. But I love you.

I lost my mind. I lunged at him and inhaled all of his fries standing up a foot away from the trash can. No food is as delicious as food you eat standing a foot away from a trash can. Ask any possum.

It'd be great to be so famous that if I murder someone, I will never, ever, ever serve any jail time, even if it's totally obvious to everyone that I did it.

Haley and I would talk for hours about which member of 'N Sync we'd want to marry. After long deliberation, the answer was always J. C. Chasez. JoeyFatone's last name was going to be __at One_ no matter how great he was, and even though they didn't know at theirage that Lance Bass was gay outright, they sensed he'd make a better good friend and confidante. As for Justin Timberlake, well, JT was the coolest and hottest, but too flashy, so we couldn't trust him to be faithful. J. C. Chasez was the smart compromise.

I'm the kind of person who becomes silent when I get scared, because I hope Death will not notice me if I am very still and very quiet. It has worked well so far.

This story didn't end in fireworks, because the truth is, fireworks are something from my twenties. I could have made fireworks, but I chose to make a nuanced memory of a person who is neither a hero nor a villain in my life.

What I didn't need was some hot-and-cold long-distance flake wasting my time. It hurt my feelings and made me feel like something was wrong with me.

Your girlfriend's sibling or parents might be totally nuts, but always defend them. Always. All a girl wants to do is to get along with her family and if you are on the side of making it easy, you will be loved eternally. It might be easier to condemn them - especially if she's doing that already - but, remarkably, even if they are murderers, she will find the good in them, especially if you start trashing them.

Every couple of months or so, some boundary breaking article comes out in a nationally published magazine. The article makes a big thesis statement about relationships. Like say how, women don__ need men anymore, or how if you__e a woman over thirty-five, you should just settle with whatever guy is half-way nice to you, or how monogamy is not feasible, or plausible, or enjoyable, for any human. And we should all be swingers, or a study is released that say__, you don__ have to love your kids anymore or something. They__e the kind of articles that are e-mailed everywhere and I get them forwarded to me about eight times. I will read one of these articles and immediately afterward I__ so swept up in it, I can__ help but think Yes, Yes, that is one-hundred percent right. Finally! Someone has confirmed that little voice in the back of my mind that has always not loved my kids, or I__ so happy I__ that much closer to my swinging lifestyle I__e always secretly been craving. I__ normal and now it__ a national discussion and others agree and I can feel normal now. But then, a week later I__ thinking, I hate this. I feel awful. This wretched little magazine article has helped convinced more open minded liberal arts graduates that, the nuclear family doesn__ exist without some hideous twist, like the dad is allowed to go to an S & M dungeon once a week or something. It makes me cry because it means that fewer and fewer people are believing it__ cool to want what I want, which is to be married and have kids and love each other in a monogamous, long-lasting relationship.

It's sort of my go-to stock image of my childhood, actually. I think it has something to do with knowing I'll never be able to go back to that time that makes me cry every time I listen to it.

when you__e winning, it makes them feel like they__e losing or, worse yet, that maybe they should__e tried to do something too, but now it__ too late. And since they didn__, they want to stop you. You can__ let them.

It was October 2001 and I lived in New York City. I was twenty two. I, like many of my female friends, suffered from a strange combination of post 9/11 anxiety and height of Sex and the City anxiety. They are distinct and unnerving anxieties. The questions that ran through my ming were something like this: 'Should I keep a gas mask in my kitchen? Am I supposed to be able to afford Manolo Blahnik shoes? What is Barneys New York? You're trying to tell me a place called 'Barney's' is fancy?'Where are the fabulous gay friends that I was promised? Gay guys hate me! Is this anthrax or powdered sugar? Help! Help!