Saturday, April 27, 2013


As I reminisce about when I first decided to blog for real for real, (all of one week ago!) it was scary! I was hedged in on all sides by socialites,  gourmet chefs, and the like, all of them with what seems like and endless supply of time and resources.

That, and a photographer that follows them around taking pictures of their glamorous selves.

 I've never been to the kind of party that you wear a party dress to. I don't go out dancing at night or travel to exotic places or have famous friends.  I don't even have my own car!

I mean, seriously! But really, I've realized what makes blogging cool is that fact that we get to see so many different sides of life through it. Its the same magical quality that makes crayons and jelly beens so great - we're diverse! And maybe there's a gorgeous, cultured, exciting someone out there who's honestly interested in the life of an average suburban highschool kid like me. You know, the one who nearly just ran into a light post as a result of trying to bike and blog at once?  If that's you, than here's a peek into my version of life, the little town that I've lived in and loved for over a decade.

There's the concrete mountain under a highway bridge that my brother and sister and I would climb as kids on our way downtown for the Memorial Day Parade each year. (Still do - we're still kids!)

The dresses are complemets of a gem of a boutique called Clothes Encounters.  Yes, the dressing room doors are missing any kind of lock, latch, or other security.  Yes, it's a little scary to have the 50 something man who works the counter address you from the other side of that unlocked door, earnestly wanting to assist you in any way.  But this place has some of the most unique pieces you'll find in suburbia.

The neighborhoods surrounding downtown are full of beautiful, brightly colored old houses that are everywhere from rose pink to cheery orange and yellow to bold red, white and blue. It's really such a cute little area, and its a shame that more people don't get to visit.

The commute. 

Love, Bella

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