05/08/2026
Life update from your favorite former Yale burnout:
I somehow became an actual adult. I work at the New York Times, own multiple blazers, and say things like “circle back” without irony. Emily Gilmore would be thrilled. Lorelai Gilmore is deeply concerned.
Mia is six now and has already mastered three important life skills:
1. Avoiding bedtime
2. Ordering fries directly from Luke without asking me first
3. Emotionally manipulating me with “but mommyyyyy, I’m just a little girl with dreams”
She recently asked me what a fax machine was, and honestly? Fair question. I worked on a story about international politics all day and then came home to explain why she cannot bring seventeen library books into the bathtub “for emotional support.”
Stars Hollow remains unwell. Taylor recently started a petition against “excessive squirrel activity,” Kirk is somehow teaching a self-defense class, and Babette still knows my business before I do.
Meanwhile, my mom continues to come to me at midnight with sentences that begin with, “Okay, don’t panic, but—”
Anyway, life is chaotic, caffeinated, and covered in Goldfish crackers. Which, honestly, feels pretty on brand for a Gilmore.
