more verdant meadows

This should come as a surprise to none of you since I imagine it's become abundantly clear, but I've recently lost, oh, 90% of my enthusiasm for blogging. It was great fun for several months, but after a year, it's just gotten old. Once in a while, I'm actually excited by the combination of clothes I've donned. Most of the time, however, I don't feel compelled to take a picture of what I'm wearing. I still love clothes, still love getting dressed, but I think I'm no longer as excited by my own style as I once was, if that makes sense. A year ago, I was still coming into my own, and each outfit was evidence of growth, was an exercise in sartorial thought, was an important moment in some narrative of personal style. Or some such nonsense. These days, it often feels self-indulgent or self-congratulatory to take outfit photos.

Beyond that, so much of blogging is about reading other people's blogs. The problem is that after spending eight hours a day staring at a computer at work and what must amount to as much during the school year, it's really hard to drum up any enthusiasm for spending more time looking at a screen, no matter how much I might otherwise enjoy what I'm reading.

So, the big idea I've been spiraling down to, in what I imagine to be be a quite obvious manner, is that I don't think I'm going to be posting on Oh So Sophi anymore. I no longer derive much enjoyment out of it, nor do I feel much excitement for it. It's kind of just become a source of unnecessary guilt--I haven't written in my blog in weeks, I never read anyone else's stuff... Who needs that?

Anyway, I still spend a lot of time browsing the Internet, reading blogs, and writing, and I'd like to keep a little home on the web for housing my discoveries, musings, and, undoubtedly, the occasional outfit. Enter Tumblr, which feels far more casual (i.e., not so grandiosely This Is My Blog) and speaks more to what I want to do, I think: write without feeling obligated to keep it illustrated and expurgated, post outfits without adding in mundane details about my day, and share music and finds without providing more context than necessary.

There's not a lot up yet, but here's where you'll find me:

I also just want to take a moment to thank everyone and anyone who's ever stopped by my blog for your readership and support. In all earnestness, the mere fact that people might be interested in what I have to say (or what I wear) has been so validating and empowering for me, so thank you for your time :)

And, a special thank you shout-out to Michal, Annebeth, Chelsea, Nnenna, Lauren, and Laurel for all of the friendship and support. I hope to stay in touch with you all! And don't be surprised if I tumbl your look!

Lots of love,
Sophi

kim's got her watermelon gun

Dressed as Dobby for HP7 last night! I was quite pleased with how my ears turned out.


Buying snacks at 7Eleven because I'm cheap and they have better selection than the theatre.


Bobby tries on a sneer as a much cuter and well-groomed version of Snape. Not pictured: the huge smile that broke across his face just after I took the photo. Angryfail! Try to be mad at someone in elf ears. Just try.


Bobby is shaping up to be quite the photographer!


Sweet patronus costumes! As we waited for the previews to start, some guys dressed as dementors came in, and the fellow in the purple robe shouted "expecto patronum," upon which the ladies dressed as patronuses ran around the theatre, chasing out the dementors. Sick!

So, as you can see, we went to go see Harry Potter at midnight last night. I'd get all gooey and wax poetic, but I already did on the ModCloth Blog!



Having a blog post up on the MC Blog is truly a dream come true, and I can't believe I got to write about one of my favorite things in the world to boot!

I was completely exhausted when I woke up this morning since Bobby and I didn't get back to his apartment until 2:30am, and when confronted with the idea of wearing a tucked-in western shirt like I'd planned all day, I felt no small sense of dread. Happily, I thought of stealing one of his sweaters, and it made for a pretty ideal groggy day outfit!


jeans: Gap clearance -- sweater: J. Crew, Bobby's -- sandals: Target

It's very nice and sunny down where I live, but it's been foggy, drizzly, and cool for at least half of the summer up in San Francisco where the office is. Sweater weather in July? Really?




Sweet koala mirror we found for Bobby's room a few weeks ago. $7 at Goodwill. It does not get old.

I've been having an absolutely wonderful time all around, and I've got lots of little snapshots to share with you. I'm planning to take a lot of photos at work sometime soon so you can get a better sense of what I do and what it's like to work there. (It's great, in case you wondered!)


New cowboy boots.


Friends Russ & Brian at A Fun Place to Eat.


Delicious fruit at the ModOffices. I was a jerk and took a bunch of it back to my desk in that sweet heart-shaped bowl.


Bobby sips the (surprisingly good) coffee at AFPTE.


Reading on the train.


More cute snacks at work.

Today's title comes from The Flaming Lips -- Kim's Watermelon Gun.

ambitious ambitions

Me, fifteen, as photographed by me, fifteen.

When I was a sophomore in high school, my grand ambition in life was to be a mother. I wanted to have three or four kids and I wanted to devote my entire existence to their care and keeping. I even wanted to have a child immediately after finishing my undergrad career. The way I saw it, the best way to make the world a better place was to add wonderful people to it one by one.

I had changed my mind by the beginning of senior year of high school, but only after enough people had told me that my maternal dreams did a disservice to my potential. It took a lot of convincing for me to believe them. I think I'd defined changing the world as either ardent, drop-everything activism or the domestic-scale one-by-one model.

These last couple of years, I haven't known what it is that I want to do. I've daydreamed about professorship, I've contemplated teaching photography, fantasized an entire career as a creative journalist. But in the last couple of months, I've gone through a whole sequence of epiphanies and eurekas. I realized not only how absurdly knowledge-driven I am but also how important it is to me that I push myself to the absolute maximum of my opportunities.

At the end of winter quarter in March, I sat writing essays in my co-op house's computer cluster for almost three days straight. One of my housemates asked what I was writing about, and I quickly launched into a breathless explanation. I'm sure I must have smiled, and I know my eyes must have taken on that stillness of focused thought. When I finished describing my project, my housemate remarked that I was one of the few people she'd met who loved learning with such an earnest curiosity and sense of personal investment. I felt flattered, but it seemed like an exaggeration to put me in that group of people.

Later that day as I put the finishing touches on my paper, I began to weep. Just a few leaky tears, but tears nonetheless. Part of the assignment required completing a supplementary reflection essay, and I sat down on my couch, laptop resting on my legs, and began to type.

There’s something deeply fulfilling about academic writing for me—the sudden flash of inspiration after hours of fruitless research, the moment when those ideas galvanize into a thesis, the incredible adrenaline rush of discovering what I’ve been trying to say and writing with an intensity and purpose that keeps me awake into the night.

It’s almost manic at times. I find myself chewing on paper ideas as I walk to class, arguing with myself in my head, clenching and unclenching my fists as I try to make sense of the article or essay or book that I read.

I am at my best when I am written on the page. All of my faults—pretentiousness, egotism, perfectionism, obsessiveness, I could go on—transform into strengths. There is real love in what I write because I write to solve the problems and answer the questions that I grapple with. I write to find solutions.

Looking back at the document, I can't help but think to myself, "well, that's certainly a bit repetitious, saying variations on 'writing' five times in as many sentences" or "what the heck did I mean by 'real love' anyway? What could I ever purport to know definitively about reality or love?" But I think the sentiment is clear, and it probably gains something from not being chained to my usual penchant for qualifiers.

I've been known to change my mind about what I want fairly frequently, and, beyond that, to declare with relative certainty that whatever it is I Want To Be is really IT this time. I see no contradiction in such claims. I know full well that I might change my mind, but my guesses are still my best bet based on all of the knowledge I've acquired up to that point and the culmination of self-interrogating thought.

I avoid saying words like "know" or "true" when I make any sort of statement to which I want to attach grand meaning, so the way that I can convey this most accurately to both my place in the world and my intended meaning is this:

I was born into unimaginable privilege, and I have thus far managed to capitalize on it to great success. However, at age nineteen (young enough to want to mention that I'm going on twenty), I can hardly claim to have achieved much at all. The opportunities I've been afforded up to this point, boundless as they are, only represent the beginning of what I believe will be an illustrious career of educated guesses, fortuitous connections, and an unwavering loyalty to accuracy. There is little reason to imagine that I would be unable to achieve the goals I set for myself; stated in the positive, a huge body of evidence, as well as logical extrapolation, suggests that I can realize my ambitions.

And I willl go forth and achieve. I'll become a museum curator or director, or maybe an academic. Perhaps a department head, someday. And at some point, I will have a child (probably just one), and he or she will better the world in his or her own way, small- or grand-scale as that might be. Mostly, though, I'm worrying about capitalizing on my own potential myself. I've already started, and I can't wait.

It seems appropriate for me to exit adolescence and begin adulthood utterly empowered. In one final, triumphant gesture toward teenage insecurities:


Me, in a swimsuit, sporting a facial expression that could not be construed as conventionally attractive. Nineteen. Having a great time.

eat plenty of lasagna until you know that you've had your fill

dress: vintage, altered by me -- vest: thrift, sleeves cut off by me :P -- scarf: thrift -- boots: thrift

I may have mentioned on here like thirty or forty times that I'm incredibly irreverent and silly. See Exhibit A above.



I had a wonderful day yesterday. Nothing that dramatically amazing happened, but the entire day was just a series of small-time awesome happenings. To start things off, I was wearing my favorite dress (seen here), and my morning train was a bit late, meaning I got to spend a few minutes sitting on the platform instead of my usual mad rushing.

Once on the train, I snagged a single seat on the upper level and enjoyed the air conditioning. When the train arrived in San Francisco, I made my way out of the station toward ModCloth only to realize that I'd left the book I'd been reading on the train. Since SF is the last stop, I could have just gone back to get it. But I realized that I felt relieved--liberated, even. See, I'd been reading Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace. And I'd only ever heard good things. And I really wanted to like it. And I enjoyed the writing itself, but just found it... boring. Tedious. Did I mention that it's 1000+ pages with what must be a good 150 pages of 8 pt font end notes? Yeah. So I just left it there. I bought it with money from a psych study anyway, and it was only $10 to start with, so. Not much of a loss.

Work was a lot of fun yesterday. I had a varied set of tasks to attend to and enjoyed the inherent interest the diversity afforded. In case you're curious, I spend my days writing copy for newsletters and contests, writing tweets, writing product descriptions, keeping up writing team output stats, and working on a couple internal projects I've initiated.

Anyway, since the vegetarian catering we had at an event last Friday ran out really quickly, leaving many vegetarian employees hungry (not me of course; I am almost always in the front of every single food line), the lovely people of ModCloth ordered vegetarian catering for the entire office! It was, without a doubt, one of the best five meals I've eaten in my entire life. I had truffle-oil-infused macaroni and cheese, penne with killer pesto, and this absolutely amazing hot eggplant Parmesan sandwich on ciabatta with pesto and red pepper and melty cheese. I went all Liz Lemon--I filled up my plate to its maximum capacity and then went back to my desk to hunker down and eat it like I meant it. So good.

And the winning didn't stop there! I met up with my dear friend Matt for dinner, and we tried a great little Indian place that we found with the Yelp app on my phone. Nice work, technology! We've known each other since I was 13 and he was 11--just coming up on seven years of friendship, actually. He's like my honorary little brother or something. Okay, so now he's 18 and I'm 19, and we're totally peers, but still. Honorary little brother.

I stopped at CVS on my way home to get a couple things, and I treated myself to a red lipstick since I've been meaning to try it for something like a year at this point. When I went to make my purchase, I used a $5 ExtraBuck coupon, which always feels good in and of itself. But then my receipt printed with $9 in ExtraBucks. Whaaat! Like I said, little moments of awesomeness. All day.

When I got to my room, I saw that my mom had not only bought me new sheets since my old ones were all pilled and scratchy but had already laundered them! And, oh, yeah, my beautiful new Seychelles from Piperlime that I scored for 50% off had arrived, and they fit like a dream.

Pretty unbeatable, right? Goodness, what a great day. Ended it with a lovely phone chat with Bobby. Nice.

In closing, here's a picture of a cat that I drew in a bedspread.


Today's title comes from Ween -- "Roses Are Free," a truly bizarre food-themed song that is Sam's and my JAM. The lyric in question is in honor of the tasty (albeit not terribly filling) lasagna I had for lunch today.

i only play it for real

blazer: Moschino via Goodwill -- jeans: Levi's -- shoes: Taryn by Taryn Rose via Goodwill

Short, sweet, and shallow today :P

My picture is a little fuzzy today because it's from my Android, which takes great close-up shots but less-than-stellar outfit-distance photos. So, I'm not diggin' my jeans. They're just $40 Levi's jeggings, and they tend to bunch up like crazy at my knees (see photo). Furthermore, being jegging-y, their wash leaves something to be desired. I'm in the market for some great high-waisted jeans, preferably in a clean dark rinse. Any suggestions?

So I've been on a huge pink kick recently, and when I saw this blazer on the rack at Goodwill on Thursday night I got really excited. And then I took it off the rack and saw that it was a freakin' MOSCHINO blazer. For $8. Winning!



I wanted to keep it really casual today since my allergies are getting me down. And pants just sounded great--it'd been a while.

Today's title comes from The Brian Jonestown Massacre -- "Anemone," my official 2011 summer jam. Check it! You want to! Seriously!

the next time you say, "I wish I had been alive in the sixties"

This was the sixties:

But this was also the sixties:











When I was younger I used to say that I wished I had been born in 1947. I would have been there when rock and roll took the world by storm. I would have been there for Beatlemania. I would have been there for Monterey Pop, for Carnaby Street, for the Factory.

But I also would have been there for the height of the Cold War. I would be living in the constant fear of sudden nuclear annihilation. Seriously. My male friends would be drafted to fight in Vietnam. Some of them would die, and most would come back with incapacitating PTSD. If I'd gone to college, it'd be an achievement if I hadn't dropped out and gotten married by the end of my undergraduate years. Only during the 1960s did it become illegal to pay women less than men for doing the exact same job. And if I wanted to have children, I'd have to do so knowing that I'd lose my status at my job if I could return at all. There were riots, assassinations, hell, it took until 1964 for the United States to even protect the human rights of people of color.

What's more, I wouldn't have been there for Monterey Pop AND Carnaby Street AND the Factory. I would have been relegated to wherever I was and whatever letters I could send or receive and pictures I could get. And god forbid someone I loved fell ill. If I was born in 1947 and my father had been born in 1916, he would have probably died by this point in my life. With today's medicine, he's been in complete remission for about two years now and has even run several marathons to boot.

Loving vintage clothing, music, and movies makes it easy to idealize the past. Look how much more creative we were! Look how much better-dressed we were! But we probably weren't. People will look back on the present with the same soft-focus lens of nostalgia that we use to look at the past. So before you write off the present, just remember that even though there's all the conflict in the Middle East, all of the unequal distribution of wealth, all of the sex scandals, and countless other atrocious goings-on, today's society is the one you want to live in. I promise.

a fun place to eat!

shorts: thrift -- blazer: thrift -- shoes: thrift -- belt: thrift -- top: stolen from my mom five years ago

Hey guys, do you see what's happening in that photo? Do you see what I'm doing? I'M SMILING! Ce n'est pas possible! Laughing, even :)

After seeing all of Kristen Wiig's adorable boyfriend blazers in Bridesmaids (which was fantastic), I was eager to bust mine out for a day of adventures with my friend Bobby. We ate brunch at this diner near my parents' house that I've always secretly longed to try and he just randomly took me to. Nice. The diner advertises itself as being "A Fun Place to Eat!" and the whole thing is covered in these absurd signs with gruesome usage errors and gag-worthy jokes. It's awesome.


My new Taylor & Ng Catbear trivet/wall hanging. $1 at this little thrift store in Felton.


Most adorbs church ever, right? And these last two photos are from my brand new smartphone!

I managed to drop my old phone in the toilet on Tuesday night (damn back pockets...), and it seemed like as good an excuse as any to finally cross over. Of course, my phone still worked once I let it dry, but after such trials as falling 30 feet off a roof, spending a night in the bushes (there was a slug on it in the morning), and a previous aqueous adventure, I figured it probably didn't need any more of my abuse.

I'd been apprehensive about getting a smartphone because I'm already in front of a computer so often that taking a break seemed like a pretty good idea. But I found myself constantly wishing I could have access to the Internet and my email when I'm on-the-go, so I just went for it. I opted for the Droid X2 because it has a giant beautiful screen perfect for perusing blogs and ModCloth and reading Wikipedia and, once I figure out how, watching movies and shows.

The last week of my life has been positively absurd--two final essays, a final exam, moving out of my dorm, shifts at my job in the photo lab, seeing friends before they leave for the summer, and going to ModCloth all day. What I'm lacking in sleep I'm making up for in fun though! Life is awesome :)

I'm working on a serious-ish post I'm really excited to share with all of you! I think you'll love it. I'm aiming for Tuesday.

do you find this happens all the time?

skirt: thrift circa 2004, stolen from my sister -- blazer: thrift -- shoes: thrift -- top: American Apparel (from the awesome days when I had 5 friends working there and got anything I wanted for 50% off...)

Bustin' out my gamine game for my last day of school stuff! It's been a crazy day, but an awesome one. I'm finally done with all of my academic commitments for the year! Yesss.



So I'm pretty obsessed with this blazer. I bought it last Wednesday at Salvation Army for a cool $3.40. I really dig the color and shrunken fit, I just wish the material were wool instead of this plastic-y polyester.


Bottlebrush forever!

Caveat: the following deals with problems in arguments (i.e., logical shortcomings), not things in my life that I experience as hardships. I'm a ponderer, and these are ponderings. Not things that actually trouble me. Just saying that in advance.


Yesterday, I showed my friend Bobby the presentation I did last quarter about thrift and vintage fashion, and he brought up an interesting hole in my argument. If I derive such a sense of worth from the uniqueness of a garment, doesn't the fact that there must be others of it (barring hand-made items) somehow detract from the sense of authenticity I feel?

I want to say "oh my goodness, of course not!" but that wouldn't be true. Don't get me wrong, most of my value of and attachment to my thrifted clothing comes from the energy I put into finding it and the joy it brings me, but there's definitely a bit of a letdown when I see someone else with that item.

Oddly enough, I've had the very rare occurrence of seeing another person in the same vintage piece (sort of) happen to me twice in the last week. I saw one of my thrifted vintage dresses on eBay (can't for the life of me find the listing, but I tried), and last Thursday, Katy from Kansas Couture sported a seventies skort that I have in a different color. Seeing what I think of as "my" clothes on other people shocked me a bit, but I don't think it actually diminished my enjoyment of my clothes. What really gets to me is seeing another woman wearing a piece from a mass-market retailer, probably because it reminds me of how terribly Unoriginal and Unspecial my garment is.

Moving out of my dorm room this week has drawn my attention to just how much goddamn clothing I have. I can't help but feel quite materialistic. I'm surrounded by stuff, and I imagine that I love it even though I know it couldn't possibly love me back. I see many of possessions as extensions of myself. I think that's why it unsettles me to see other people wearing the same thing as me--I see it as them wearing my identity. Of course, they aren't. They're just wearing clothes, and I'm making up a crazy story.

Oh, and just for fun, here's a photo of me from five years ago. I've had the same Photobucket for six years, and it's organized by month and year. It's pretty cool to be able to see me and my life change with nice precise dates.


This was in my midi skirt, Converse Chuck Taylors, and pearls phase. Oh geez.

Today's title comes from New Order -- "Age of Consent," a song that invariably puts me in a great mood.

Thank You (Falettin Me Blog Mice Elf Agin)

First, an outfit, and then on to more important matters.



I wish the weather were still as summery as it was the day I took these photos! I'm in at the office on my lunch break right now, and rather dreary outside. But hey, at least the fact I can see that means that there are lots of windows in said office, right?



I absolutely adore this little camera necklace I bought from Forever 21. Isn't it the cutest? Perfect for a film camera enthusiast like myself.





Life is so good right now--new people, new job, incipient summer weather. This is only my third day working at ModCloth, but I know I'm going to love it. The office has a great open layout, and all of the employees have adorable dogs sitting beside their desks.

As I'd imagine many of you have noticed, my blog has been rather terse and inactive in recent months. I've provided a bevy of excuses along the way, all of which have been true. It's been one of the busiest times in my life.

But, beyond that, I realized yesterday that my silence may have had a lot more to do with my emerging ambivalence about blogging. Here's the thing: I am an incredibly opinionated, strong-willed, intellectually-minded, outgoing, and frank person. The fashion blog world encourages us to be inoffensive, apolitical, non-religious (well, it's more that nobody ever talks about not believing in God), lighthearted, and unfailingly positive. Yet poke around on IFB enough and you're sure to come upon a whole host of  posts encouraging new bloggers to Be Themselves and Bring Out Their Unique Individual Personalities.

The longer I blogged, the more clear it became to me that my readers' views did not necessarily line up with my own. Since I wanted to grow my readership, I tried to keep things as un-alienating as possible. In the very first days of my blog, it was almost painful for me to not comment on blogs I didn't like.  I'd add dozens of blogs that didn't interest me to my Bloglovin' feed because I felt so guilty ignoring people who seemed to enjoy my content.

Lately, I've felt like my blog completely elides my personality. What do you learn about me, really? Well, I seem friendly enough. That's true; I try to be kind as much as I can, but I'm also pretty no-bullshit. I won't lie to people to make them feel better. You learn that I'm a student and a photographer. Again, fairly neutral information. This one time, I even told all of you about my experiences with Bipolar II. But even that was the expurgated, de-politicized version. I told it without the teeth.

I've justified it to myself with the excuse that a fashion blog is emphatically not a diary, not a soapbox, not "public therapy." But why not? Who decided that? Blogging allows you total control over your content, and while you certainly can tailor that content to please your readers, I don't think it makes sense to allow the audience's desires to totally eclipse your own.

From this point forward, you can expect some content changes around here. I'm sick of having nothing to write about, and I suspect that you'll all find opinions a bit more engaging than "today I went to class and then to CVS and then I sat in front of my computer and wrote this and I'm a little sick but I'm starting to feel better and it's about 67 degrees outside" anyway. Hopefully.

real guys go for real down-to-mars girls

blouse: from Empire Vintage -- pants: thrift -- shoes: target

I can't believe the school year is almost over! By June 8, I'll be completely done. What a thought. No homework for three and a half months. Goodness me!

I really like these pants, in spite of the fact that they're really similar to the color scrubs are and also kind of look like clown pants.


This is a much more accurate representation of my personality than all of these smizing pictures.


Not getting enough sleep sometimes... Always lots of reading and assignments and essays and grading and extracurriculars.

Today's title comes from OutKast--"Roses," one of my favorite dance jams.

she's a mover

shorts: thrift -- cardigan: thrift -- boots: vintage via Etsy -- top: ModCloth (oh my goodness, it's such an incredible feeling to write that and know that I'm going to be working there in just a couple of weeks! I am the luckiest girl in the world.)

So, not that you can tell given the nasty fluorescent lighting in my room, but I got my roots done and hair re-toned and it looks awesome. My hairstylist is really a champ. She spent three hours dying and cutting my hair, and her hard work really shows. The roots are seamless, and she toned everything to the most lovely blonde--not too ashy, not too yellow, just a lovely wheat color. But, like I said... fluorescent lights.

It's been cloudy and rainy for the last few days, so the weather coupled with this nasty throat bug I have seemed like as good a reason as any to dress up in my version of grungy. To be fair, I spend a lot of time in jeans and a simple top on the weekend, but if I almost never wear that to class.



Anyway... Another crazy-busy week ahead, culminating in a 6AM journey to the airport on Friday to go see my sister's college graduation from Tufts. I'm so proud of her! Here's to getting my homework done on the plane, eh?

I'm thinking of putting a pad of paper and a pencil next to my pillow tonight so I can write down all the hilariously bizarre, utterly nonsensical combinations of words and ideas I come up with after I take my codeine and before I fall asleep. But then I might not ever sleep. Hmm...

I had a really lovely weekend--a nice balance of sleep, friends, food, and, most of all, dancing! What was the highlight of your weekend?

Today's title comes from Big Star -- "She's a Mover."

they tell me of a pie up in the sky

dress: thrift -- shirt: thrift -- boots: thrift -- belt: from a vintage skirt



I write to you from a dorm computer since mine is STILL broken! Yikes! I have a lot to catch up on with all of you, so I'll devote this post to that end. It's been a real mixed bag for me in the last couple of weeks, but right now, I think I've finally worked through the bad and I'm just enjoying the good. And the good is so good!



Lots of Levi's love! Here's another outfit...




skirt: thrift -- tank: F21 -- belt: thrift -- jacket: thrift
Shoes are not pictured, but you've seen 'em before. They're those clog-style Target wedges. The jacket is one of two kids' Levi's jackets I have. They're the greatest--perfectly proportioned with nice elbow sleeves and a cropped length. They also have these adorable tags inside that say "Little Levi's." Aww.

At my school, there's a tradition of "fountain hopping" when the weather's nice. It's totally socially acceptable to just go hang out in the fountains. Lots of us wear swimsuits, some of us just roll up our pant legs. Whatever the case, it's always a ton of fun. Since it was 85 degrees out for the last few days (YESSS), we all spent a lot of time outside.


Josh - David - Lauren, some of my dearest friends. This summarizes their relationships with one another and general personalities pretty well.


Me and Josh!


Climbin' the fountain...

My friend Josh is spending some time on campus with us before he leaves for his five week marine biology research expedition. It's been great seeing him since he's been gone all quarter at the marine station down the coast.


This was a really bomb kiwi.


I should learn a cooler party trick, huh?


Josh and I went on a picnic today!


Josh eats chicken with his outraged face on!


Prettiest day and prettiest view!

Okay, and, biggest news... I am interning at ModCloth in San Francisco this summer! I'll be working as a social media marketing writer. There are no words for how excited I am for this. I heard about the possibility of internship openings back in December, and I spent the next four months obsessively checking their careers page. As soon as the listing went up, I submitted a resume, and after a few rounds of interviews, I got the job! I am so, so, so grateful and stoked for this opportunity. What a treat :)

Today's title comes from Jimmy Cliff -- "The Harder They Come," the titular song from the (amazing) soundtrack of the movie of the same name. That was a lot of prepositional phrases.