Welcome to the Circus

my mom: pat AKA trish sailing the pacific ocean 2011

My mother and I are addicted to shopping. No, not clothes like 'most' women. No, not food, although I do enjoy eating, a lot. We shop--nonstop--for home decor crap. Rather than the cute shoes that attract many, I have to try to veer myself away from the vases, the frames, and the artwork.

Anywhoo--My mother. She bought me a little decor to bring to college, as a little inspirational, kind of motivating piece toward what I am studying (Journalism, for those of you assholes who did not know that). The woodbox frame is from a Christine Mason Miller collection and says:

"every single moment you are writing the story of your life."

So here is what I'm getting at. As the first post, I want you to realize that this may look like the most mind-blowing, earthshaking, yet pointless blog ever made. but it is a moment in life in which either myself, or my roommate (not friend) Carolyn chose to write about. Before I make my next comment I want to tell you that we are not on any drugs. I often find my mind as a circus and this is your free ticket to ride the wheel (or the giant slide or the creepy caged up spinny thing or if you want to use your free circus ticket to play a lousy rip off game, go for it). Will it waste your time? Yes. Will it distract you from your studies? Definitely. Will you sometimes be pissed off for wanted to read this nonsense? You bet. But if you snicker..if you smirk..or if you give one little sense that you like it...you, my dear, are a sucker.

there will however...be-ly no clowns at this circus and I probably will be adding constant decor to the page.

no snakes are allowed either.

With wonder and awe-

Carrie