Toast

I was once introduced to a friend of a friend as "the one who loves toast," and I think after that the rest of my life took a sharp turn downhill.

There is absolutely nothing better than a perfectly executed piece of toast. Crunchy, warm, buttery, satisfying—what more could you want from anything? My day doesn't feel complete if I haven't had at least one piece of toast. I had to cut myself off from toast during a cleanse in the beginning of this summer and I truly was not myself that whole month.

Toast's brilliance lies in its simplicity. Nowadays kids are slathering avocado all over toast and squealing "it's a super-food" but I'll hold firm that the best kind of toast is a plain piece of white bread with butter spread on it. In a recent transgression into bougie nonsense I put goat cheese on my toast and could barely gag it down. It just wasn't the same.

Now that is true beauty: toast glistening with butter. Your fave highlight could never.

In college, friends of mine would always receive photos from home of their pets with captions like "someone misses you!" My mom would literally send me pictures of our kitchen appliances: our toaster oven and our blender.

Look at that gorgeous piece of domestic equipment.

I frickin' love toast and I'll scream it from the goddamned rooftops. I'll be eating toast on my deathbed and I want my headstone to read "Here lies Julia, the one who loves toast."