Dear Butter: I miss you already.
Dear Brother: I am so proud of you and the restaurant you run. I can’t wait to make it out to Charlotte to see it for myself!
Dear Free People London Edition: You have given me a new direction for my wardrobe and style. I can’t wait to look slightly disheveled with a red lip and tiger sweater.
Dear Election Year: So we meet again. You bring out the best in people. And by best I mean absolute worst. There is a reason we all go into a tiny little booth to mark a ballot. Let’s keep our overly pompous opinionated rants in that booth. K?
Dear Taylor Swift: We are never getting back together… like ever. Please go away already.
|adventures of newlyweds!|