SEVEN. I.

1. It's not autumn yet, but oh how I wish it were. Days of temperatures over 110ºF, humidity that makes walking to the car feel more like swimming, sweat running in rivers.

I'm over it.

2. Back to the cards.

3. Vampy lips and lots of mascara, and the way it feels like another facet explored.

4. There are a lot of ways to apologize. And a lot of ways to realize sometimes you don't need to.

5. Copious amounts of hot tea, even in this heat. Masochist.

6. Still on the hunt for the perfect white tee. Sleeves need to be longer than cap sleeves, but short enough that they don't cover my whole bicep. Neckline needs to be low enough for cleavage and cage bras or high enough that it only shows my clavicle. Length has to be past my waist, but not to my hips. It can't be so flowy that I look pregnant, but not too fitted, either.

I wish I could make my own clothes.

7. September. Sept. Seven.