Blogging is stressful when you don't have a yard. It's one thing to have a boyfriend take photos of you, because you can just pretend that he thinks you're so pretty or something. But it is quite another to go out into the wild armed with a tripod and fuzzy earmuffs and start snapping photos of yourself against a half-melted dirty snowbank. I really think it's only a matter of time before someone calls the police about my strange behavior. The thing is, this road is the only place I have pretty decent privacy, but if I catch the road at the wrong time there is traffic. I think they hate me. I'm scared. I probably won't go back.
(jumper/scarf: thrifted; chambray: walmart; shoes: lulus.com; earmuffs: urban outfitters)
I'm so ready for a change. I need a new scene. And a house with a yard. And a puppy. And a purpose.