Lurrrrve my new Gray Malin (nude) beach print.
This article is an oldie, but explains virtually every argument Kendrick and I have ever had, and I bet it explains most of yours, too. (Mom, The Designated Worrier, via NY Times.)
Mer-fins are a thing? That you can buy?
Joshua Tree, California
You guys, I'm going to have to apologize in advance in the event that all of a sudden I turn into a total chakras-and-crystals person, because I don't know who it is that is in these photographs, but the Jordan that I know does not decide to spontaneously break into yoga poses while watching the sunset barefoot in the sand.
Or...jeez, I don't know. Maybe she does.
First rule of road-tripping: when you see a tiny, hand-painted sign that says "Antiques," you should definitely go wherever it's pointing, because what you might find is a half-gas station half-junk shop, and in that junk shop you might be able to find something called "Weepy The Wee-Wee."
We spent yesterday driving from Williamsburg to Asheville, and arrived about four hours later than we expected to, but that's okay: the reasons we arrived later were:
I don't have much to say about this afternoon, other than that it was a dream and that a dandelion (or two) behind the ear is always a good idea.
On Me: Eddie Bauer Flannel. (Speaking of Eddie Bauer, I'm going to be at the Union Square store this Thursday from 4-5, and will be doing a full styling session on one reader. Would love to see you before I strike out West!)
OK, so remember back when I was all "I CANNOT DO THIS THERE ARE TOO MANY LOGISTICAL ISSUES YAAAAA"?
You guys were SO helpful. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
And an extra-big thank-you to Angela, who wrote me to tell me that she'd done a cross-country move herself and had done a ton of research about moving companies, and had ultimately decided to go with U-Pack. I looked into the company, and: YES. Big yes.
