tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3949465200867762462024-03-14T02:03:46.511-07:00an adventure in reading (and occasionally writing)Kaylie. Devouring each thrift store acquired book at a time. Kayliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06684142915956676060noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-394946520086776246.post-41075680692438161622015-12-04T18:51:00.002-08:002015-12-04T18:51:56.367-08:00space zine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlSSb5fYS7dOm1cOdYSGHWJOOfF4gqvy7g24qBUbhCBvdlYvKZ-5QuG6EpAhNJ5qvSiFs9-kbN_UMH8ZI1qCTjnQos6wE5xj0kAQ1Y54RHqCs_24L1yPfwp7_OgOKCC0M6lW7m-SiZQWtF/s1600/Kaylie%2527s+SPACE+Zine+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlSSb5fYS7dOm1cOdYSGHWJOOfF4gqvy7g24qBUbhCBvdlYvKZ-5QuG6EpAhNJ5qvSiFs9-kbN_UMH8ZI1qCTjnQos6wE5xj0kAQ1Y54RHqCs_24L1yPfwp7_OgOKCC0M6lW7m-SiZQWtF/s320/Kaylie%2527s+SPACE+Zine+.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFA4hcryghB7ME1OgyXaeLQ4k0mDMs_vmHTrcdGlOKMzX8BtK9eK-YV7vpgaHUy1GzBipWr-Xhe2XgAVDYxha3d2nzfSMNzTvmuVgs7P0iibhXCR8D1vDfvxh9RixiYt0yfAzjn0-vQuvJ/s1600/Kaylie+Padgett+Zine+Scan+.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFA4hcryghB7ME1OgyXaeLQ4k0mDMs_vmHTrcdGlOKMzX8BtK9eK-YV7vpgaHUy1GzBipWr-Xhe2XgAVDYxha3d2nzfSMNzTvmuVgs7P0iibhXCR8D1vDfvxh9RixiYt0yfAzjn0-vQuvJ/s320/Kaylie+Padgett+Zine+Scan+.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />Kayliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06684142915956676060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-394946520086776246.post-58737707158757686372013-06-18T11:55:00.004-07:002013-06-18T11:55:44.515-07:00weekly reads: the diviners by libbra bray<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhajrrP6WseV7KODajeSvnXqG6NoAcBeFVEYSDI4c5x-HRCcqb8yvGoMTSv1L0z7gDn41uCawrhrRi5cXMk5GGFs5LP5IeTE-TSZVfNvS4OeJnaQZm-TfMDdvc3cQiRnuF1Q0vyPzwiKq7C/s1600/The+Diviners.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhajrrP6WseV7KODajeSvnXqG6NoAcBeFVEYSDI4c5x-HRCcqb8yvGoMTSv1L0z7gDn41uCawrhrRi5cXMk5GGFs5LP5IeTE-TSZVfNvS4OeJnaQZm-TfMDdvc3cQiRnuF1Q0vyPzwiKq7C/s1600/The+Diviners.jpg" /></a></div>
I don't usually read fantasy or young adult paranormal fiction. I am a pretty strict contemporary gal, but summer is here and what better time to branch out and read books you normally wouldn't go for? I borrowed The Diviners from my aunt because I have enjoyed Libba Bray's other works and decided I needed another summer distraction in the form of this 600-page tomb.<br />
<br />
The basics: the story is set in the late teens/early twenties of the 20th century and primarily focus on Evie, our speakesie-attending, magical-gift having, flapper girl. Evie is sent to live with her uncle in Manhattan and looks for adventure in all of the right (but also probably wrong?) places. When murders start popping up around the city and her uncle is enlisted to help, Evie believes that she can help too. Any modern girl couldn't resist a murder.<br />
<br />
At times, I was overwhelmed while reading, because we started off with about six different characters and characters without names and merely called "the stranger" and "the man in the top hat" and I was all kinds of confused. The Diviners is the first book in a series, so I understand that there was a lot of exposition to be hashed out, but all of the information made the first two hundred pages seem a little slow.<br />
<br />
As the plot started to pick up and simultaneously thicken, things got a little less confusing (yay for names!) and much more interesting.<br />
<br />
I was surprised by the amount of biblical and religious references surrounding the murder cases. I think it added a more interesting layer to the murders and the fantasy, because it was a continuous build up and something that I'm pretty sure the series will build around.<br />
<br />
I was also surprised by how much I liked Evie, even though in most cases, she was downright unlikable. She was selfish, intrusive, and inconsiderate, but as her story unwound, her actions seemed almost justifiable with her emotions and the attention she was trying to find.<br />
<br />
The plot was intense and the book did pick up, when the character's paths started to intertwine, but I do wish that the book hadn't been so slow in the beginning. I will most likely read the second book in this series, primarily because I devoted so much time to finishing the first one, but it isn't something that I would reread.Kayliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06684142915956676060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-394946520086776246.post-2890451862185045172013-06-05T10:42:00.002-07:002013-06-05T10:42:46.487-07:00movie muse: tonight you're mine (or You Instead)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga2lA-wwVc1dUNVfW4DlegfTUteyvFblC2juT5kmsvMHEDFo692PVt2DWcr6Wq4oy6nkTkwfAWk80aDJPnmpyj7Yxu42RskdKFe3XRy49Y1xeB_3m3ljwYAXEj1Fmpds17_fLLhtYFZTw6/s1600/Tonight+You're+Mine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga2lA-wwVc1dUNVfW4DlegfTUteyvFblC2juT5kmsvMHEDFo692PVt2DWcr6Wq4oy6nkTkwfAWk80aDJPnmpyj7Yxu42RskdKFe3XRy49Y1xeB_3m3ljwYAXEj1Fmpds17_fLLhtYFZTw6/s1600/Tonight+You're+Mine.jpg" /></a></div>
I've decided to watch every movie under the "Independent Comedies with a Strong Female Lead" section on Netflix. (I think.) What started out as a dare declaration while I was lamenting my lack of "culture" and "coolness" for my upcoming dive into college has maybe turned into a tangible thing. Really, it depends on how much time I have/if someone will PLEASE HIRE ME (Hot Dog on a Stick, I'm looking at you)/my desperation level. However, it's the first week of summer and I've got one movie completely finished, which is kind of a feat for me.<br />
<br />
I have a really, really hard time finishing films. It's just...if it doesn't grab me, it doesn't grab me? Books I will continuously give second and third and forty-fifth chances to, but movies kind of have one or two and if it doesn't work, back to browsing. Sorry, movies.<br />
<br />
<i>Tonight You're Mine</i> (2011) has a kind-of interesting premise; basically two kind of prattish musicians are handcuffed together after a fight and the resulting relationship that grows after.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZPELl2p-j-8gJR-Ih3D3C1jvNJVdILWzieJzQiFVsuQob1X1_rSf_cE68c64QGG2OfXAk2CB5tclMwc_1WxYrnTsOk7iqvIqLQm0Yv8hTbPVibk8b4B4v6niusUmu4AB313XP0VC50P2o/s1600/Hello+TYM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZPELl2p-j-8gJR-Ih3D3C1jvNJVdILWzieJzQiFVsuQob1X1_rSf_cE68c64QGG2OfXAk2CB5tclMwc_1WxYrnTsOk7iqvIqLQm0Yv8hTbPVibk8b4B4v6niusUmu4AB313XP0VC50P2o/s320/Hello+TYM.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The dialogue is certainly witty in some parts and the cinematography is perfect. The movie was filmed over five days at an actual music festival and it shows; the mud, the tents, the outfits, the screaming - it makes a very loud, but very lovely backdrop for this love story. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I enjoyed it, simply because it made me really want to spend tons on Coachella tickets and also because it was cute enough to draw you into another world. It didn't make any intense political statements or have really intense layers of meaning. It was a movie about two people who become attracted to one another and bond a ~connection after being forced together. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Me gusta. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihmuCs7emF4eYslOa4Y6ldiulFpVT-BOGfKg1_8EzteUa1sefWgGMrXGu_X6uBLLfv2VuM5tOhXWPSBlw0dZs0uqk4yUBsBFmtWUvrzHDis1nhnSGLSu_I5CO6yUmQuH3unvndohp6guje/s1600/Tonight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihmuCs7emF4eYslOa4Y6ldiulFpVT-BOGfKg1_8EzteUa1sefWgGMrXGu_X6uBLLfv2VuM5tOhXWPSBlw0dZs0uqk4yUBsBFmtWUvrzHDis1nhnSGLSu_I5CO6yUmQuH3unvndohp6guje/s1600/Tonight.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />Kayliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06684142915956676060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-394946520086776246.post-81649182890879255582013-06-04T23:04:00.002-07:002013-06-04T23:07:36.148-07:00French Milk is Superior to Other Milk<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj741EeExOsPWQAK3LKuA4X5V5dIrei8HPa5Uw5xFJTGc9wWYkDGngECKErvyj32JhBUrYKOlVa97EyjwrcrN0vnNhYo8ZXeivGUjvFdVSeWse-NWZBEPyFlJqB6motAZEz7M8kXwo7Pg9U/s1600/frenchmilk+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj741EeExOsPWQAK3LKuA4X5V5dIrei8HPa5Uw5xFJTGc9wWYkDGngECKErvyj32JhBUrYKOlVa97EyjwrcrN0vnNhYo8ZXeivGUjvFdVSeWse-NWZBEPyFlJqB6motAZEz7M8kXwo7Pg9U/s320/frenchmilk+(1).jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Most of the books I am devouring this summer are thrift store purchases, meaning things that have looked mildly interesting on the shelves at Savers and have since laid around in stacks, waiting to be read. Well, summer is upon us and I have no job prospects yet (fingers crossed for my two interviews on Thursday) and the books are slowly being read and digested. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><i style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">French Milk</i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"> by Lucy Knisley is actually more of a comic than a book or like, a hybrid between the two, and even though I am not usually one for comics or graphic novels (my friends are slowly trying to convert me), I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed this book. Basically, it's a drawn comic journal that spans over a month, the bulk of the diary concerning the artist's month-long vacation in Paris with her mother.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">The drawing, first and foremost, is cute and detailed and appealing and that's pretty much all I can say on that topic because I have no art skills at all. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCNSXK1xz7iNlR9U-b8_xFE2t35KLNxKI6pW6K69rDuqLMT4Ij0hzjQGVUOB_N6E1u89AIsr3IDMUIXsIdxRYlVa5ggfh-snG3k6RofB8woPDLi-90cZ6nOFyYvwZpCmIFmvRucDyx2uE/s1600/lucyknisley05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCNSXK1xz7iNlR9U-b8_xFE2t35KLNxKI6pW6K69rDuqLMT4Ij0hzjQGVUOB_N6E1u89AIsr3IDMUIXsIdxRYlVa5ggfh-snG3k6RofB8woPDLi-90cZ6nOFyYvwZpCmIFmvRucDyx2uE/s320/lucyknisley05.jpg" width="220" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">I am interested in all things French and <i>French Milk </i>was a nice little two hour dive into French culture, providing lots of dreamy drawings of food (especially foie gras) and funny little tidbits about the apartment they were staying in. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Even though nothing particularly exciting happens on this holiday (museums, shopping, cemeteries, lots and lots of food), it's perfect because of that. The realistic traveling expectations are met - kicking children in airports and slightly disappointing experiences in museums. Knisley's way of capturing the overwhelming fear of adulthood and Life After Graduation and how those feelings are crippling, even when she's in the middle of PARIS is kind of sad and heartbreaking, but in a good way, because it's a reminder that people can be in one of the best cities freaking ever, but that doesn't mean that their life and all of their other worries stop. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">My only real complaint (it isn't even really a complaint it's just something I noticed in a kind of neutral kind of man-I-want-more way) is that because this is more journal than story, sometimes character's names were thrown in and we didn't really know about them. They're real people and when writing about friends, background stories aren't always included, I totally get that, but it could be a little disconcerting when a gift was picked up for [name] and I had no idea who that was. It didn't take away from the understanding at all, because the basic people were mentioned and kind of introduced, but sometimes I would've enjoyed learning more about these super rad, gift worthy friends. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">French Milk is super enjoyable and kind of quirky and makes me wish that plane tickets could be only 10 dollars, so I could take a Parisian escape. It's a nice dive into vacationing and unmet expectations and also French milk, which is apparently superior in it's full-fat content, sweeter, amazing goodness. Seriously, I enjoyed the book, but after I was done reading it, I wanted to go milk a cow and enjoy some whole milk, French or otherwise. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">This is the first book read from my various acquired stacks and it hopefully set a nice tone for the rest of my summer reads. The comic nature made it a super fast read and I'm a little sad that it only lasted for about two hours, but that's more a qualm with my reading skills rather than the book itself. Onto the next one! </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span>Kayliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06684142915956676060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-394946520086776246.post-34570235262283134602012-10-16T20:42:00.003-07:002012-10-16T20:42:24.042-07:00<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal;">why can't i be rory gilmore?</span></h2>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijkf0sTgwS6g7_JigAwhjqcWpLLobi0SKPb_tf6chvepawyI31X6Y867noAm5XE6CndR5iJVpox-SAAfw7jG225qcS7i4fznDx41o9IYcCl3ipwD_mSlKpWkSGigTqrZhGYJAtEq9YkfO_/s1600/Rory+Gilmore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijkf0sTgwS6g7_JigAwhjqcWpLLobi0SKPb_tf6chvepawyI31X6Y867noAm5XE6CndR5iJVpox-SAAfw7jG225qcS7i4fznDx41o9IYcCl3ipwD_mSlKpWkSGigTqrZhGYJAtEq9YkfO_/s320/Rory+Gilmore.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal;">I want to be Rory Gilmore. There. I've said it. Now that I'm older and slightly more realistic (hah), the inkling has faded, but when I was younger, there was nothing I wanted more than to be Rory Gilmore. The wit, the academics, the boys...man oh man. Of course, I was only twelve when the series ended and much of the intense love I hold for Gilmore Girls spawned after the series was off air, it's still there. And it's probably always going to be there. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal;">Gilmore Girls is a safety net for me. I rewatch different seasons every year (generally during fall because sighs) and it's a ritual that I have. When I am sad or sick or tired with life, I stay in bed and watch Gilmore Girls because it's so familiar. I hum "Where You Lead" often and understand so many more cultural references because of the show. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes I want nothing more in life to find a small, quirky town to settle down in and it's primarily because of this show. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So here's to hoping. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">x</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><br /></span>Kayliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06684142915956676060noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-394946520086776246.post-80291278021359130192012-10-13T18:55:00.001-07:002012-10-13T19:07:20.505-07:00autumn wishlist<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
<div style="margin: 0 auto; width: 400px;">
<div style="position: relative;">
<a href="http://www.polyvore.com/autumn_wishlist/set?.embedder=799984&.svc=blogger&id=60995249" target="_blank"><img alt="autumn wishlist" border="0" force="1" height="400" src="http://cfc.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-set/.sig/RijBLXVeNDXw9X30Cwg/cid/60995249/id/JGXOJqH9Ssy-LcoMeENoww/size/c400x400.jpg" title="autumn wishlist" width="400" /></a></div>
</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/autumn_wishlist/set?.embedder=799984&.svc=blogger&id=60995249" target="_blank">autumn wishlist</a> by <a href="http://kayliemarie.polyvore.com/?.embedder=799984&.svc=blogger" target="_blank">kayliemarie</a> featuring <a href="http://www.polyvore.com/pink_bags/shop?query=pink+bags" target="_blank">pink bags</a></small><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes a little indulgence is good. Especially after weeks full of tension and stress and not enough sleep. Indulge, I say, and give yourself a break. After I say this I generally order a bacon cheeseburger, garlic fries, and a chocolate milkshake. And then I proceed to eat it all under like twenty minutes. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes it's also good to indulge in other things, like shoes and make up and nice smelling candles. This is a nice little collage of all the things I've been loving/wanting for fall. I'd like to be able to say I'll indulge in all of these things (ha. ha. hahahahaha.) but I'll probably just end up with the candle. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Naked palette. Ugh. The bane of my existence because I want it but don't need it and every time I go into Sephora I talk myself out of it and then every time when I don't have enough money I talk myself into it. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jumpers. This one is absurdly expensive and very soft, but all jumpers make my heart flutter. And help with the food over indulgence. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Scarves. Burgundy scarves are a plus. ("Like you need more burgundy, Kaylie." I say to myself as I buy another burgundy sweater...) And if it's a circle scarf? Gone, I am. It isn't really cold enough here for scarves, but I might just suffer through the heat anyway. Painful fashion and all that. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is more like a need, because I really do need a new backpack. I have intense Thrifter's Regret because I totally found <b>The Perfect Backpack</b> a few weeks ago, in all of it's olive with tan detailed glory, but I didn't have enough money for it and it escaped me. I will now dream and cry forever.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Combat booooooots. Brown combat boots because I'm a brown boot person. I'm not the biggest fan of taller boots, just because they never properly fit my calves and I have oddly shaped legs and the entire equation just doesn't work, so ankle-hitting combat boots are the way to go. I've been attempting to thrift some for a while now but I might just have to fold and properly buy some from a store. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The It Candle. Not that I need more candles or anything, but it's just so...attractive. And there's something to be said for hype, right? </span></li>
</ol>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So that's what I've been wanting. I'm going to go light a candle now and watch Gilmore Girls and pretend it actually feels like fall, even though it's SEVENTY FREAKING DEGREES in good ole CA. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Star stickers for reading this whole thing! </span></div>
</div>
</div>
Kayliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06684142915956676060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-394946520086776246.post-8820644960058610292012-10-07T17:29:00.000-07:002012-10-07T17:29:01.140-07:00<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large; font-weight: normal;">"Am I too old for gummy bears?"</span></h2>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhds6HAZYmnf6rqdmOmOH58-ICKQlYTAqOBiG5c0KJhiPPXovNzYHW-cXU5TokPB8pGltlx6Bvd_WF0obDG6ubRZpoCi_EJjZ9XHZCqxXQGm_PEHYj3Vjvdg-1BK8GRw0wBbAD_5EeIVBuy/s1600/Life+2012+Sept+Oct+031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhds6HAZYmnf6rqdmOmOH58-ICKQlYTAqOBiG5c0KJhiPPXovNzYHW-cXU5TokPB8pGltlx6Bvd_WF0obDG6ubRZpoCi_EJjZ9XHZCqxXQGm_PEHYj3Vjvdg-1BK8GRw0wBbAD_5EeIVBuy/s320/Life+2012+Sept+Oct+031.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My entire train of thought for the past two months has pretty much just been, "Holy shit, I'm a senior." And it still hasn't sunk in.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Does not compute.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Rejected. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It seems almost ironic, because I've spent the last three (more like 5) years of my life "prepping" for college and now that I've taken the SATs and chosen my schools and done everything else, I can't take it. The thought of college makes me want to go back to sleep. Everything about college, from applying to actually going, makes me nervous. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Whilst we all ponder the reasoning behind this reaction (um, I'm a teenager, there's your reason), I will move onto the other equally large thought looming over me: adulthood. I'm aware that 18 is the "legal" number/border for adulthood, but I dispute this, mainly because part of me pretty much already feels like an adult, and the other part of me feels like I'm going to be a mental thirteen-year-old forever. On one hand, I do all of my banking online. On the other hand, I still beg my mother to makes my lunches. Woo, half adult half teenage Kaylie. Am I ever going to strike a happy medium? And if so, how does one go about accomplishing this? Please fill me in.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Life lately has been a very tedious and scary balancing act. I won't bore you with a tightrope analogy (though I will briefly mention it so you get my point!), but sometimes I feel like I'm going to fail and fall flat on my face. Balancing and managing my time has been my biggest struggle. I can openly admit that I am over committed, but it's a bit too late to back down, so now I'm stuck with attempting to arrange my academic/theatre/leadership/college/personal duties into my schedule. It's very hard, as it's one week until Homecoming, college application time, and the middle of a theatre production. Add a sprinkle of AP classes on top and it is the most unappealing banana split ever. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxsUnB5CMGN97q6JXxD0hIwJWCuPxOUwIzbcSIS5x28mQms0aiks-sO-w18cmgNLzNVGvgnaO628CBX08p3Yk0qe6be-eiasacjkzB0NnnV9Au6jTej-5EMH3xfJQiWC9qA39O6vCv0aTh/s1600/Life+2012+Sept+Oct+051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxsUnB5CMGN97q6JXxD0hIwJWCuPxOUwIzbcSIS5x28mQms0aiks-sO-w18cmgNLzNVGvgnaO628CBX08p3Yk0qe6be-eiasacjkzB0NnnV9Au6jTej-5EMH3xfJQiWC9qA39O6vCv0aTh/s320/Life+2012+Sept+Oct+051.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Highlights of life and attempts to relax have come in the form of really cute puppies (lhsdfjshdfsd he was adorable and licked my face!!!!), cupcakes, and clothing organization. Lots of clothing organization, because I'm testing out the whole "dress for success" theory and also trying to wear all of the clothing my mother doesn't think I will. I also organize <i>everything</i> during the weekend and that makes me feel marginally better, but only marginally. My biggest stress relief generally comes in the form of a a pumpkin spice latte and Barnes & Noble browsing, but that hasn't been achieved yet this season. I'll work on it. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic60EQZyOgh6TWEY23M1fzc4gQLHFLXB4WxaO9h03wuff9QYoxd4_1U7JVfrKSpkP1w_vkPs6kZDWwyel5mBa7-lQhQU3psozssgHnNClDMvU4v_E6Epn2lRaBLdnsjeBycR94nnwtlTNB/s1600/Life+2012+Sept+Oct+030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic60EQZyOgh6TWEY23M1fzc4gQLHFLXB4WxaO9h03wuff9QYoxd4_1U7JVfrKSpkP1w_vkPs6kZDWwyel5mBa7-lQhQU3psozssgHnNClDMvU4v_E6Epn2lRaBLdnsjeBycR94nnwtlTNB/s320/Life+2012+Sept+Oct+030.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I will leave you (and this unorganized, rambly post) with a photo of my cat throwing her hands up in resignation and on the high note that tomorrow, I will be traveling up to Palo Alto for a college fair, where I will hyperventilate about the future and also meet up some some awesome people from CSSSA. If you've made it to the end of this, you deserve a cupcake (they're pumpkin spice).</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ta! </span></div>
Kayliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06684142915956676060noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-394946520086776246.post-27600356091984009192012-09-08T22:52:00.001-07:002012-09-08T22:52:52.038-07:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Talk About a Juxtaposition </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"></span></div>
<a name='more'></a><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I feel like such a typical teenager when I lament about the lack of summer and exhaustion of school and yes, I know, I should sop it up like the big baby that I am, but man oh man. The juxtaposition between the life I led this summer and the life I'm currently navigating around seems too wide of a gap to be real. The four weeks at CSSSA and the four weeks since seem to be the most linear path of my emotional growing that I've ever been able to follow. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhklZJSbRce-Oo2oQa_AS6HEviBeS8MIhQYV3V662IhJ6GJBczKkAP5kM4CRLqEGSy_ijwJliON7sr_1-xLwleZBj0tDQkeowEBD_6e_qIPSFZtvI64LZAVwBqrpMLIGZVLy2TvgaJruvdX/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhklZJSbRce-Oo2oQa_AS6HEviBeS8MIhQYV3V662IhJ6GJBczKkAP5kM4CRLqEGSy_ijwJliON7sr_1-xLwleZBj0tDQkeowEBD_6e_qIPSFZtvI64LZAVwBqrpMLIGZVLy2TvgaJruvdX/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dorm room decor snippets. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">California State Summer School for the Arts was this huge experience that took me weeks to process. It was full of sunlit dorm rooms and roommate dance parties and Sylvia Plath and weird snippets of conversation and lots of variation on the best way to make Chai tea. It made me feel involved and current and like a true artist, sans mental beret. It was very best of times and worst of times. There was a lot of self doubt and discovery and rejection and inadequacy and the joy of applause. It was less than what I expected to be in some ways and more in others. Now I generally remember the experience fondly, with thoughts of a too floral dorm room and my favorite library table, but there were some distinguishable moments there that I felt defeated. I'm glad for those moments. This summer, in its entirety, was a very large growing summer. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I came back and everything was different. I had too many inside jokes, references from books I'd never even read, and friends spread all over the state, the country, and the world. I'm so much more sure of who I am now. I had a hell of a lot of conviction before, but there's something new to the confidence this year. I know that I can do what I want to and be who I want to and accomplish something, which maybe I knew before but not in the same degree. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Coming back to home and high school has been a huge change. I have to wake up at like, six o'clock every morning, which I know is not bad at all compared to others, but I am a perpetually exhausted teenager and because it gives me another thing to whine about (though the exhaustion is getting better). Senior year is this huge thing full of decisions and stress and I'm faced with the fact that I'm over-committed and can't say no to things. I really need to work on that, but I'm trying to figure things out and so far I seem to be doing an okay job. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The change this summer was documented poorly over instagram, but this year is going to be full of much more change and sappy soul searching than ever. I kind of want to document all of that, so here we go. Hooray for upcoming iPhone pictures and run on sentences. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Change numero uno: </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN_Q5LxGRTMp52TD6ubqlcKCY6GkQ8p6qc9al8EnjPmXHe_svAlqu_wf9rVKPYV_vHOyDIDP4wxS-iYUG8CGUh11ruC9gZcpxMb0F1g7P6JoPf-OFusnuS8By-C6fiEvSRK_SyT5in2VHE/s1600/photo+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN_Q5LxGRTMp52TD6ubqlcKCY6GkQ8p6qc9al8EnjPmXHe_svAlqu_wf9rVKPYV_vHOyDIDP4wxS-iYUG8CGUh11ruC9gZcpxMb0F1g7P6JoPf-OFusnuS8By-C6fiEvSRK_SyT5in2VHE/s320/photo+(2).JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ooh, bad mirror pictures. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I put purple in my hair. Yup. I resisted the hair dye all of CSSSA, but gave in at the beginning of September. Also, I totally stained my friend's bathroom counter and ran away from the mess and it was my most rebellious teenage moment yet. Aw yeah. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Kayliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06684142915956676060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-394946520086776246.post-23005937444856476852011-06-04T21:57:00.000-07:002011-06-04T22:06:57.093-07:00Your Word is the most important thing you have.<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i>your word </i>Teen Creative Writing Residency</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlqUV0G0N_dHwt3HUQ4UfxXl_rlT_1UVpyggd28knBAqnP03VA3lGZgqG7HIftOvA6kdoxmJ5y776JDV1VnYXiNL69f8vRlBJqXlMGIJRYiZ8OhzZI6j6QdF6Qd0jzoyNaZJHV8sOQCHQ/s1600/Your+Word.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlqUV0G0N_dHwt3HUQ4UfxXl_rlT_1UVpyggd28knBAqnP03VA3lGZgqG7HIftOvA6kdoxmJ5y776JDV1VnYXiNL69f8vRlBJqXlMGIJRYiZ8OhzZI6j6QdF6Qd0jzoyNaZJHV8sOQCHQ/s320/Your+Word.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614595948275192866" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Back in April, I applied for this creative writing program in New Smyrna Beach, Florida. I applied warily, because of the thousands of applicants nationwide, only 21 people are accepted. I was grateful enough to get in, so this summer, I get to spend 14 days in Florida, surrounded by some other amazing writers and mentors. My excitement bubbles over every time that I talk about it (of course, I hold in it, because I was taught all that modesty crap). I'm so excited I could burst. I'm equally nervous, because I've experienced my roughest creative dry spell <i>ever</i> this year, but I'm working on it. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">From the pictures online, the campus looks incredible. It's actually set on a nature reserve, in the middle of the "woods", across the street from the beach. (Like my description, eh?) All I can say is that all of that nature better be inspiring, or I'm kind of screwed. At least they can't rescind my acceptance now! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The bulk of my summer will be preparing for this trip. I have to get a new ID, find a bigger suitcase, and get a few vaccines. The only sucky part is that I return on August 6th, four days before school starts up again. But hey, at least I'm going. </div>Kayliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06684142915956676060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-394946520086776246.post-79373066990213070302011-06-04T21:50:00.000-07:002011-06-04T21:55:13.760-07:00I'm really bad at this whole blogging thing.The only reason I created a blogger account was so I could keep up with my favorite blogs easily and not clog up my favorites bar. Then, somehow, I got this crazy idea that I could keep up with a blog, taking outfit photos and being active. If we're going to be honest, I'm neither comfortable enough nor talented enough in front of or behind a camera to take pictures of my outfits. It might happen eventually, but not now. <div><br /></div><div>So I'm going to rearrange the purpose of this blog. For now, it's just going to be about posting things I like an random pictures/posts about my life. And I'm incredibly happy about that. One of my biggest fears is starting an actual blog (I don't think Tumblr counts, because really it's just a bunch of reblogging). So this summer, I'm going to conquer this fear and create a virtual diary. </div><div><br /></div><div>Here goes nothing. </div>Kayliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06684142915956676060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-394946520086776246.post-76401323726149879162010-06-16T18:41:00.000-07:002010-06-16T18:51:44.738-07:00Oh, how I heart thee...<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15.9722px; ">While I gather up the courage to search my room and discover my camera battery (I was going to charge it, I swear I was) I'll provide you with some google images of things that make me very, very happy. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15.9722px; ">It's summer. Summer, to me, means Banana Boat sunscreen, the lake, and fruit. All kinds of fruit. One of the best things about living in the salad bowl of the world is that I have fresh fruit just around the corner. I love the baskets of strawberries for a dollar, and the fresh peaches. I even snagged a pineapple, which I've yet to cut up. </span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpAi9wA6kAQEnfcWAmVEORTMVDL4niNmbEaUUF2WZLZQi9s9Fo41XuHTDke7vvvcFR5c6mQ98RqwyTPp20AkBjWcZQ2hMyV4h7O-SffaOkCx0H1JbkRUDVeLhyphenhyphenGQHlVCiE2l25e3D1Jh9I/s1600/Pineapple.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpAi9wA6kAQEnfcWAmVEORTMVDL4niNmbEaUUF2WZLZQi9s9Fo41XuHTDke7vvvcFR5c6mQ98RqwyTPp20AkBjWcZQ2hMyV4h7O-SffaOkCx0H1JbkRUDVeLhyphenhyphenGQHlVCiE2l25e3D1Jh9I/s320/Pineapple.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483552279820895154" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15.9722px; ">Two of my "goals" (read: dreams) in life are to own a thrift store and to own a cottage. The cottage thing is taking over, causing me to google images and spend too much time making them on the Sims3.</span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-QcGgp3oaNtjqZxza_GfMTyyT2jtWeBpihzHAFKDHdIHblnxntnvEY-sFQKwPVLpdMhySf8ESlnTTVq0L5aeJ3pSX30jNAdVGO3Ryk_y973EwyBmBNUcaroWcs0VzPDqO7oQw2J2ASIJ/s1600/English+Cottage.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-QcGgp3oaNtjqZxza_GfMTyyT2jtWeBpihzHAFKDHdIHblnxntnvEY-sFQKwPVLpdMhySf8ESlnTTVq0L5aeJ3pSX30jNAdVGO3Ryk_y973EwyBmBNUcaroWcs0VzPDqO7oQw2J2ASIJ/s320/English+Cottage.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483552089052687442" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15.9722px; ">And lastly, matryoshka dolls. Just snagged these floral ones off of etsy. Hopefully the ladies will be here by Monday. All I have to say is that I've already cleared a shelf. </span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEY9ThzJL5VsU3YDOFDFDMZdKqc58P1hKQFsri1MVmwbGVZqxFvsUPXAb7_e2L549UipLxE8GZ7_aE7IT2gu1sf6X3lgsgN5cm1LDdE0dGB3F5095ggmCQQ50dEP9KJP-ShyPgrqO7cZoe/s1600/Dolls.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEY9ThzJL5VsU3YDOFDFDMZdKqc58P1hKQFsri1MVmwbGVZqxFvsUPXAb7_e2L549UipLxE8GZ7_aE7IT2gu1sf6X3lgsgN5cm1LDdE0dGB3F5095ggmCQQ50dEP9KJP-ShyPgrqO7cZoe/s320/Dolls.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483551980063847522" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Image from billyandwinston via etsy.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Hopefully by tomorrow I'll have gathered the camera and taken some snazzy pictures of beach-themed thrifted finds and food. Hopefully. Possibly even an outfit post, if I'm feeling spontaneous. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Cheers, </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Kaylie</div>Kayliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06684142915956676060noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-394946520086776246.post-14067180667089421382010-05-26T18:28:00.001-07:002010-05-26T18:42:42.008-07:00Little Miss Thrift<div><br /></div>I felt very direction-less with the blog for quite some time, but I think I've finally settled into posting about things I know about, such as thrifting! Thrift stores and thrifting are some of my favorite things to do. After being Savers-deprived for a few weeks, I finally got to take a quick look around the store. <div><br /></div><div>There were some Ferragamo shoes I fancied, but for eleven dollars and I size too small, I let 'em go. However, I did find a lovely Royal typewriter (right) in it's original case. The typewriter on the left was one I picked up at Savers a few weeks ago. Unfortunately, due to lack of space, they're both in their case right now.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCSLEhPntSEHiePay9W0RZhkuJifZ0BgcYVvIGwQIADAwMzMX6qwKbze4GU6JdxnpWmMm9ndNXnRa1KcBlsXKNlCRG60N_ZhUMH_GA1kZWp49KOOaWMWjlWwkv0-6eL1KI0b7jxYTurAap/s1600/Typewriter+016.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCSLEhPntSEHiePay9W0RZhkuJifZ0BgcYVvIGwQIADAwMzMX6qwKbze4GU6JdxnpWmMm9ndNXnRa1KcBlsXKNlCRG60N_ZhUMH_GA1kZWp49KOOaWMWjlWwkv0-6eL1KI0b7jxYTurAap/s320/Typewriter+016.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475757104896704946" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYA_2FlU03erEfckOy7ihqZpNuY-cSdiKHN04ZJGqvsh1Q6oseAEZxwAXe1EusqHczueLLuIn5YRGfGOSz-I-kLSKRps9v6NDD81GeSUudRNir4PrYLla73W_1nq9UF9W9tB70YcMwXRA-/s1600/Typewriter+017.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYA_2FlU03erEfckOy7ihqZpNuY-cSdiKHN04ZJGqvsh1Q6oseAEZxwAXe1EusqHczueLLuIn5YRGfGOSz-I-kLSKRps9v6NDD81GeSUudRNir4PrYLla73W_1nq9UF9W9tB70YcMwXRA-/s320/Typewriter+017.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475757023538827074" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVJHGwHew8DXplYPJiWggCpYJ9ua-diwtU0vqVUZu1Mn9pu0ajTdmM2QyWz6feMm9ydCzPfwe7sr5S527yHKcdezV6PvKmZ3v1f6I_28azrzv8_Em54qZ7-8z51kDupjUevAqx-tofGH11/s1600/Typewriter+022.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVJHGwHew8DXplYPJiWggCpYJ9ua-diwtU0vqVUZu1Mn9pu0ajTdmM2QyWz6feMm9ydCzPfwe7sr5S527yHKcdezV6PvKmZ3v1f6I_28azrzv8_Em54qZ7-8z51kDupjUevAqx-tofGH11/s320/Typewriter+022.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475756891399775890" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFZs2ZvnNabC6SiQMZyTSo4eqqKDzQ-d4ez9FE3dfMEkk_dq3UTaPhMDmFEAT1InVOgbyqHAuL_vPR8aOPG7E1VEpZKVVIxIpeTdFruzfti0kmg7SW8fHcb9jhR1TyHaPdX81VIh_eXjoV/s1600/Typewriter+037.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFZs2ZvnNabC6SiQMZyTSo4eqqKDzQ-d4ez9FE3dfMEkk_dq3UTaPhMDmFEAT1InVOgbyqHAuL_vPR8aOPG7E1VEpZKVVIxIpeTdFruzfti0kmg7SW8fHcb9jhR1TyHaPdX81VIh_eXjoV/s320/Typewriter+037.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475756751676690370" /></a><br /></div><div>The two vintage bathing suits were steals I found. It's amazing, I think, how no one ever looks at the bathing suit section in thrift stores. You find some real jewels! Though neither are for me, I hope to open an etsy shop this weekend, where they'll be posted. Links on that when it comes.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFfYXR0ddAtrAaRpg_4BOSJC1jLJkZPKVwI0N6cMKrhEqEC1FNX2whtPO187pE2Y5cxDhdsXulBroBr3hhGLj4MEhM4L_YfOhsi_iU5kVb_ZlJPRxc2h3Y6MdvpR4a3SLILT0COhJsY7vz/s1600/Typewriter+025.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFfYXR0ddAtrAaRpg_4BOSJC1jLJkZPKVwI0N6cMKrhEqEC1FNX2whtPO187pE2Y5cxDhdsXulBroBr3hhGLj4MEhM4L_YfOhsi_iU5kVb_ZlJPRxc2h3Y6MdvpR4a3SLILT0COhJsY7vz/s320/Typewriter+025.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475756577525827858" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmFIQWzbAMTuNiTn5eLT3sONIvGozYfJKSy407O-0ZzgbDTTgiwT-3D6kQOcmgAUVb475fRrDm14EQjdAb3uqWBvQ02mp1FXHzBI4kEL6DUuVYFbiQ0zQXYR0ld1Z1KFuTcHpb-CXRfDTF/s1600/Typewriter+027.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmFIQWzbAMTuNiTn5eLT3sONIvGozYfJKSy407O-0ZzgbDTTgiwT-3D6kQOcmgAUVb475fRrDm14EQjdAb3uqWBvQ02mp1FXHzBI4kEL6DUuVYFbiQ0zQXYR0ld1Z1KFuTcHpb-CXRfDTF/s320/Typewriter+027.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475756419777176642" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDKRex_NlnutR7nd-vDWECac_1M-SQEpLn-7u9GJVE6YyIF-7sQdzW_064_PjnjXwFTbmKNuN5-t8GN4lYXw70OkClQVVw45gNNQzwVFWv7sXhX28aizHtqy2daeuyzoc7qMDCasZ9lc9h/s1600/Typewriter+032.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDKRex_NlnutR7nd-vDWECac_1M-SQEpLn-7u9GJVE6YyIF-7sQdzW_064_PjnjXwFTbmKNuN5-t8GN4lYXw70OkClQVVw45gNNQzwVFWv7sXhX28aizHtqy2daeuyzoc7qMDCasZ9lc9h/s320/Typewriter+032.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475756275596154754" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ073kaOOK7jgB58d3fTHwYnLElAPyQnpZQhd3Nw5pGniGzSULhxc5T8moSSzuhwp9lg2VYcUYbwCmWYRXEvwktY9cmgmfKkqutXafewWBdixtp8XFfRbNHHjJLHPp8I4IdGpJ-7Ty-0oZ/s1600/Typewriter+033.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ073kaOOK7jgB58d3fTHwYnLElAPyQnpZQhd3Nw5pGniGzSULhxc5T8moSSzuhwp9lg2VYcUYbwCmWYRXEvwktY9cmgmfKkqutXafewWBdixtp8XFfRbNHHjJLHPp8I4IdGpJ-7Ty-0oZ/s320/Typewriter+033.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475756011811158914" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqyOsih8DwnPViIv1l7PGj7wsQL4SX96OiYsyQihCn87b8_qTMD0qzYcV7UancNXBXbnpBZeMpyLRJajQD3jJ33jaBoDFOp6amk76UquV18Qby9Ycv2dhp7p2GQui5ZZGKox9yumh438jt/s1600/Typewriter+035.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqyOsih8DwnPViIv1l7PGj7wsQL4SX96OiYsyQihCn87b8_qTMD0qzYcV7UancNXBXbnpBZeMpyLRJajQD3jJ33jaBoDFOp6amk76UquV18Qby9Ycv2dhp7p2GQui5ZZGKox9yumh438jt/s320/Typewriter+035.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475755867536654354" /></a><br /></div><div>My favorite suit is the two-piece, but I'm having a little trouble dating it. Gorgeous, either way, though. </div>Kayliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06684142915956676060noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-394946520086776246.post-35315914093138442072010-05-23T16:43:00.000-07:002010-05-23T17:00:47.785-07:00Day Vacations<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>This morning my grandma called me up and asked if I wanted to take a drive down to her past living locations, about twenty minutes south of Salinas. Though we didn't get to do everything we planned (I packed a picnic lunch only to discover that they charged ten dollars to get into the park), it was quick trip to some nearby California locations. Gonzalez, Soledad, and Greenfield are south of us, and they're only a few miles apart. My mom grew up here, but besides a few quick passes going to LA, I'd never actually visited any of these places. <div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0cZHh56fCovOMty8cuQto-ek6_1o4tVFeNxStEqRCTd8nO4R0lmPfdMV-BR23JyWS9YUXL72glfabwJSrXjD3Sh6ZSwYjFxzr8TQTd7xkLPGKExR3MuX9KgW7CV4ZVy07uhNdoeUxQW6R/s1600/Gonzales+Yellow+Building.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0cZHh56fCovOMty8cuQto-ek6_1o4tVFeNxStEqRCTd8nO4R0lmPfdMV-BR23JyWS9YUXL72glfabwJSrXjD3Sh6ZSwYjFxzr8TQTd7xkLPGKExR3MuX9KgW7CV4ZVy07uhNdoeUxQW6R/s320/Gonzales+Yellow+Building.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474617629003475090" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqSPVl48TmTAEj4fV1XApO6DrM0yJsjnQ9yk0Kn81C1gnfMHcBWvrqzbeJoTgWVeTgqQaRZK5ybbMoo586b_d9_wiOzWmOtLCCSJ-liqdLxEIxM8AM_7A8a65QfX7EMG8brSSIbUTwIL_o/s1600/Soledad+Liquor+Store.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqSPVl48TmTAEj4fV1XApO6DrM0yJsjnQ9yk0Kn81C1gnfMHcBWvrqzbeJoTgWVeTgqQaRZK5ybbMoo586b_d9_wiOzWmOtLCCSJ-liqdLxEIxM8AM_7A8a65QfX7EMG8brSSIbUTwIL_o/s320/Soledad+Liquor+Store.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474617566183431266" /></a><br /></div><div>The cemetery in Greenfield was probably the best part of the entire trip because it's where a lot of relatives on my mom's side are buried. The tombstone is of my great-aunt and uncle. Apparently, I'm almost identical personality wise to my Aunt Lizzie. This is according to my grandma. According to my uncle, it's true, because she was one tough lady.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiSq5rtra8wkZa1tMX6J_6yamr1ac3S4qK9Pqp7sjLDqDjmHQel04ef1CrEbUIZ6P3AfH06JLbcxoJyy4cp-ziYAqP-VZQ1fKiMrvCt-itiQCLNCTR3GcvxsM3PgPoH_7_obj5mqELjjUU/s1600/Greenfield+Cemetary.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiSq5rtra8wkZa1tMX6J_6yamr1ac3S4qK9Pqp7sjLDqDjmHQel04ef1CrEbUIZ6P3AfH06JLbcxoJyy4cp-ziYAqP-VZQ1fKiMrvCt-itiQCLNCTR3GcvxsM3PgPoH_7_obj5mqELjjUU/s320/Greenfield+Cemetary.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474617489508980242" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMplGwAYV95M8RDv2AfaPzE5JjxiLLlc4zvQP_cmhkZSnNI_zji-iDlrAGVgeG1Fn1SLOFJWZluWfYqj-kBl6k01_r5Td_E2v72cG6filmGEBuGu0g8tqQIdzAQjAWY2QGdyFPK_2-Vj0f/s1600/Greenfield+Tombstone.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMplGwAYV95M8RDv2AfaPzE5JjxiLLlc4zvQP_cmhkZSnNI_zji-iDlrAGVgeG1Fn1SLOFJWZluWfYqj-kBl6k01_r5Td_E2v72cG6filmGEBuGu0g8tqQIdzAQjAWY2QGdyFPK_2-Vj0f/s320/Greenfield+Tombstone.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474617413869968194" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisW7YZaF4uGqEN8zS4Msi5-ewMTPsNHxEamIKYrsetwIh6uEIGkJU1pIWdmSCz9dYfleqHKL_VZjoZkfr40V6j60ed8K8I-i9sfcO8drohRqBYLpretrYiI9XJBbTUMfwTF9lktTb6Kvkr/s1600/Greenfiled+Oxfords.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisW7YZaF4uGqEN8zS4Msi5-ewMTPsNHxEamIKYrsetwIh6uEIGkJU1pIWdmSCz9dYfleqHKL_VZjoZkfr40V6j60ed8K8I-i9sfcO8drohRqBYLpretrYiI9XJBbTUMfwTF9lktTb6Kvkr/s320/Greenfiled+Oxfords.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474617322547464610" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvbBG8tI8h2UOvYkX472eeaDIPtBwKAST_Mp6GSxa0ouUuFE-jcGdEO-wEq4qHr4npuCxZjZdZbV7kiWgAt1f8hZ8ukjawOxdSgGYzeysRNbz4Zfg4WE8Y2PAP7Nb6FxuW59nZhgDoTtoc/s1600/UO+Bag.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvbBG8tI8h2UOvYkX472eeaDIPtBwKAST_Mp6GSxa0ouUuFE-jcGdEO-wEq4qHr4npuCxZjZdZbV7kiWgAt1f8hZ8ukjawOxdSgGYzeysRNbz4Zfg4WE8Y2PAP7Nb6FxuW59nZhgDoTtoc/s320/UO+Bag.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474617238229817890" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><br /></u></span></div>The trip was casual. We didn't actually walk around much, because my grandma's in her seventies and those hips just don't move like they used to. I only took pictures of my bag and shoes because they seemed like the only notable items of the assemble. </div><div><br /></div><div>I had fun, though. There's something about driving through old country roads with the windows down that makes you happy. </div><div><br /></div><div>Shoes: Oxfords via Savers. </div><div>Bag: UO</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm getting better at this! Quite possibly no one is reading, but I'm working on it...</div>Kayliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06684142915956676060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-394946520086776246.post-89249641458719672832010-05-21T21:22:00.001-07:002010-05-21T21:34:35.846-07:00Well, improvement is the way to go.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The idea of starting a blog used to intimidate the crap out of me. Okay, let's be honest here: it still does. The blog in my head is full of romantic outfit photos and tales of great adventures. However, the blog in real life isn't quite as exciting, but I'm working on it. To be honest, I'm not one for taking pictures of myself, but I'm going to work on that too. As a little intro post ( a much better one than last time, though I'm still attempting to figure out blogger), here are some things I love: </div><div><br /></div><div><b>Traveling. </b></div><div>There is a US map taking up almost the entire length of one of my bedroom walls that can prove this. Though I haven't stuck dressmakers pins into places I've gone (I'd only need like, ten), I do have a very detailed map going through the states of places I'd like to go. It's a goal, right?</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUTMajaViHrl5WyADZzINRPaKmUosMAqM-5P5BjTLgKeoxrlavDZDaJhuGWWW1HMMocYMHKgTvuGC5BXMYl4085VFZ0P2H093yl40TXY04F_9Wm2S6yaiVG3-qH579HIJiWgu24qZ81or5/s1600/Pin+Map.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 217px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUTMajaViHrl5WyADZzINRPaKmUosMAqM-5P5BjTLgKeoxrlavDZDaJhuGWWW1HMMocYMHKgTvuGC5BXMYl4085VFZ0P2H093yl40TXY04F_9Wm2S6yaiVG3-qH579HIJiWgu24qZ81or5/s320/Pin+Map.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473945468414978514" /></a><b>Old books, especially dictionaries. </b><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Quirky little Kaylie collects dictionaries. I have something around thirty, my oldest dating back to 1912. The best I ever saw was in a little antique shop here in Salinas, over a thousand pages and a few inches tall. Ten dollars! Unfortunately, at the time, I didn't feel like lugging it around Old Town, so I let it go. When I went back, fully prepared for the trek, someone had snatched it up. Fate, perhaps?<br /></span></b><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpeFUDh3ziG0iF_BMktwUcz7CHqwqTKdV6xvp4FA5gcfdOo0Hyp37f-oHs7odLyPxUJitCKk6jvfDgES_5xAO6ZtIhGkimeRz2MOCcwJYvlD42lZMzCKKsCw0EUsBYnnJdAaIq2ZCNBp5m/s1600/Old+books.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpeFUDh3ziG0iF_BMktwUcz7CHqwqTKdV6xvp4FA5gcfdOo0Hyp37f-oHs7odLyPxUJitCKk6jvfDgES_5xAO6ZtIhGkimeRz2MOCcwJYvlD42lZMzCKKsCw0EUsBYnnJdAaIq2ZCNBp5m/s320/Old+books.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473945373075831490" /></a><b>Kittens, cats, and other animals. </b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">We have four cats in our house: the adult, two teen sisters, and a toddler, whom we found outside of our apartment building a few days ago. Originally we were going to find him a home, but I loved Studely (short for Stud Muffin. This boy is fiiine.) too much to share him with anyone else. He's about the same size as the little guy in this pic. </span><br /></b><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHWCXUH1aBStCHXZnDE_j5BpYgWKIk1Krh4CumeSZJBKaCcGfVQ8aHqgeHvc29Phq2ReFysxqoRo9KUvh6m3JjAQqJhNf7RRfuQntZ5QUV6bIsUlPQKvI_8AaymbOT3IzomXjreBBR0P-p/s1600/Cute+Kitten.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHWCXUH1aBStCHXZnDE_j5BpYgWKIk1Krh4CumeSZJBKaCcGfVQ8aHqgeHvc29Phq2ReFysxqoRo9KUvh6m3JjAQqJhNf7RRfuQntZ5QUV6bIsUlPQKvI_8AaymbOT3IzomXjreBBR0P-p/s320/Cute+Kitten.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473945241657976482" /></a><b>Thrift stores.</b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Thrift stores are all the rage these years, and for good reason. Unique clothing at an affordable price? Count me in. Also, it's modern-day treasure hunting, with some of the best prizes. </span><br /></b><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBMZ_aItcZjG5z7-K5nbQoVBkegBPS3eJAVSDl85cSlHPVjnzlD4cf-fpK6ZrlD7zT_e4yK3cH7g4IxxMUgCjlBpYlGjY42OuYGABHV_Ml9xwkcK_LYPYBZX-D11lAlC0AA6y2tmNeqbJ9/s1600/Thrift+Store.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBMZ_aItcZjG5z7-K5nbQoVBkegBPS3eJAVSDl85cSlHPVjnzlD4cf-fpK6ZrlD7zT_e4yK3cH7g4IxxMUgCjlBpYlGjY42OuYGABHV_Ml9xwkcK_LYPYBZX-D11lAlC0AA6y2tmNeqbJ9/s320/Thrift+Store.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473945117662402386" /></a><br /></div><div>All images are courtesy of google. </div><div><br /></div><div>These are just a few thing that get me smiling. Hopefully there will be more posts to come. I'm just a little intimidated by the blogging world, but I figure I should probably get over it, especially if I want to go into fashion journalism, aye? </div>Kayliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06684142915956676060noreply@blogger.com1