Apologies.

I pulled the post I published this morning because I became concerned that it could be misconstrued as mean-spirited. I didn’t mean it that way, but sometimes it’s hard to write about experiences without saying things that could be misunderstood. I never in any way want to come across mean-hearted, even if that means not having content. If you happened to have read this morning’s post and I came across that way to you, I hope you can accept my apologies, and PLEASE know that it wasn’t my intention – only to write about the odd things that happen to me in as humorous a way as possible. This is the first time I’ve pulled a post after publishing and I’ll try not to make a habit of it.

In case you’re curious, no one objected to the post – I just felt uneasy in my heart about it.

I’ll be back soon!

This is How I Feel…

This Is How I Feel

This is how I feel about dyed armpit hair.

This is how I feel about a Facebook invite to play Dragon City.

This is how I feel about sixteen year olds wearing cut-off mom jean shorts.

This is how I feel when I realize a single Facebook friend is selling Mary Kay, Rodan + Fields, Advocare, and Young Living simultaneously.

This is how I feel about thirteen year old boys having 20,000 followers on Instagram and all they post is sultry selfies. #goodhairday #eyes #smolder

This is how I feel every time I see a beautiful, historical storefront turn into a Vape Shop.

This is how I feel when Pinterest tells me that two dozen ten-color polka dot cupcakes topped with individual Pixie Hollow icing dioramas are easy to make.

This is how I feel when I realize exactly how messy my house has gotten – and that it’s at least 25% my responsibility to fix it.

This is how I feel when I catch the first whiff of whatever is to be the fiery Facebook topic of the week.

This is how I feel when the Dead Sea Mineral Lotion Kiosk Man tries to accost me and rub things onto my arms.

This is how I feel about silk shorts trimmed in Pom-Poms.

I feel this:

What makes you feel that?

Under Lock and Key.

Ali spent an entire Saturday morning planning and creating an extraordinarily intricate blanket fort.

Like Fort Knox itself, her construction boasted of all of the necessary building components to create the highest security possible – chairs, every blanket in the house, random objects like hammocks and toys to fill in the gaps left by the blankets, and a road rug. So that if you try to crash your car into the fort, you’ll just drive up that rug road and off to the right. A perfect deterrent.

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There was even a watering can in case of emergency flower moisture needs.

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I was allowed inside the fort on a heavily curated tour once and only once – to survey the fine architecture and high security measures housed therein.

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Deep within the bowels of the fort, there was a Guard Rabbit, armed with a mighty light and aided by a Teddy Deputy. They were responsible for carefully hiding and protecting the entrance to The Vault.

To get to this most important secondary room, both guards, a pillow, and two backpacks had to be moved in just the right order so as not to set off any Indiana-Jones-style snares or trap doors into a room full of snakes (I’m assuming – although Ali has never seen Indiana Jones to glean from their wisdom.)

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Carefully, Ali moved them to allow me to visit The Sacred Vault. To feast my eyes on what lay beneath.

The most guarded and precious room in the fort was a treasure indeed.

It was a library.

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As it should be.

Have a nice weekend curled up in a fort vault somewhere.