Buffalo Exchange!

Thrifting is awesome, but I think I'm a little of a thrift store cheater. My cousin is a hard-core thrifter and she finds some rad stuff, but my version of thrifting is going to Buffalo. Buffalo is like a high-end thrift store and its officially my new favorite place! They give you the option of buying AND selling. You know the term emotional eating? Well I emotional shop which quite often leaves me with buyers remorse. Not to mention I get bored of my clothes faster than I should, so Buffalo is perfect for me. I get to get rid of my old crap for new crap! This time, much to my mother's pleasure, I got rid of my pink lepoard skinnies, yes I did actually own a pair of pink lepoard pants, forgive me it was a halloween costume. Thankfully those..unique pants are gone among other things I never wore and are replaced with two pairs of super cute shoes! Ahhh good day shopping!

Brown Bear

I am the person you hate to compare your tan with. Growing up I was affectionately given the nickname brown bear. If you look at the picture to the right, the nickname becomes self-explanatory, in comparison to my friends and family I was, well DARK. I've always been the darkest one in my family, my little brother even likes to tell people I'm adopted. When I was younger I loathed being different, I wanted to look like everyone else, I wanted to be white! Now that I am older I've learned to love what makes me unique. I've been asked many times what my heritage is and some people less tactfully have asked me "what are you?". I've been told I look like many different races, people have speculated if I have Native American blood or Spanish blood. One of my best friends is convinced I am part Mexican and lovingly refers to me as a beaner. Most people are disappointed to find out I'm Dutch. They are convinced I am missing something, somewhere someone back in my heritage MUST have contributed to my skin color. I don't care though, I am an anomaly and I love it!

the beat of my day

Does anybody ever have trouble finding the music for your day? or is it just me? oh it is...ok awkward. If you've never experienced this let me explain, sometimes I get in my car look down at my ipod and just stop. What kind of day is it? Beatles..Taylor Swift..All Time Low(they're amazing) or something else entirely. Somedays you know just what you need to hear and somedays it takes a little work. Inevitably I will turn to my trustworthy shuffle option and leave it to chance and hope you find it..the soundtrack for your day. The beat of my day today is the across the universe soundtrack(thank goodness I found it!) So whats your music today? is it country? hip hop? rap? or maybe you have a little disco fever-don't judge, whatever it is good luck finding it today!

Age is just a number..right?

I am 20 years old, did you know that readers or should I say reader (love you Amanda!). I am 20 years old and according to the world at age 18 I should've been kicked out of my house and forced to fend for myself. Thankfully I was not, I was coddled and taken care of and provided for in a way that is almost shameful. As a result of my nurturing parents I have a BIG problem...

I need my mommy!!!

I am 20 years old, I am sick and I want my mommy! Why is it that I can proclaim to the highest tops of the mountians that I am an adult, but one small cold can send me running, not walking, running back to my mother's lap. And when such a time as this comes, my mom will look down on me with what can only assume is a mixture of pity and motherly love and ask me what is wrong. I will then proceede to whine about every ailment and ask my mommy to fix it. I don't know if it is because my mommy is a nurse or just because she's my mommy but she really can fix it. Even at 20 years old she will still go get my medicine when I''m too "weak" to get off the couch and bring my dinner up to my room. So you see my problem, here I am sick and separated by several states and all I want is to lay on my mommy's lap and tell her to fix it