I'm sure y'all have discovered Instagram. Me and Instagram are bosom buddies. Besties. BFF's. Bros. My little day-to-day tidbits go there. All in their "rise" filter (what can I say, I love me some faded prettyness).
I love blogging for the sheer fact that it is the epitome of "to each their own". They have different schemes, themes, purposes, genres, some are meant to write professionally, others are for those with family far away. They are hilarious, bitter, honest, fake, mom's, singles, children, creeps.
i love mexican hat men cutouts.
And as I think about how I want mine to reflect me, I want it to be a fuller perspective. I want people to see that I drink a lot of coffee, I craft and read, I am learning (read: failing) how to sew, I live in a tiny shop/apartment with my roommate and a puppy, I love Kansas City, and I am young and have a lot to learn in EVERYTHING.
Coffee = Boyfriend
you should love KC too.
So all that to say, bear with me as things grow a little wider. I write for me. I document for me. But this is also a way to invite people into my life and it's only fair that I be a little more....normal. Or not normal. Because I'm a fool.
I don't want this to sound as if I have been fake, in fact it's the opposite, I have worked to be very honest here. I just want to be more open with the other stuff. The day-to-day, Instagram-worthy moments that stitch together my little life.
And besides....blogs are ALWAYS more interesting with pictures.