Real talk.

What I wore: Boots, Target. Skirt, Charlotte Russe. Top, vintage (from my mom, ha!). 

I don't get dressed up every day. Some days I don't get dressed, period... 

at least not until after lunch. I don't always cook and we don't always
have weekends filled with exciting activities. 

Ryan and I have a great relationship, but sometimes we fight.

Sometimes he doesn't communicate well and I get oversensitive and stubborn

and we end up wasting a perfectly good Saturday afternoon 

being mad at each other.

I don't write pages upon pages of fiction every day. 

Some days I waste hours reading the news, reading blogs, stalking Facebook,
and then I stare at the little blinking Microsoft Word cursor and I wonder if it's
worth it trying to be a writer. I get discouraged.

Most of the time the pups are adorable,

but sometimes they bark their faces off at every hint of a noise outside

and I have to yell and scold them. And sometimes they poop on the floor. 

But I don't take pictures of that stuff (especially not the poop). 

And I don't always share our every day trials. They're not entertaining

and I don't want to air our dirty laundry to the entire world.

The internet is an interesting place.

It's a curious blend of authenticity and polished presentation.
Sometimes it inspires me and makes me feel connected to other people,
and sometimes it leaves me feeling like everyone else has a picture perfect life
and I'll never measure up. I have to remind myself that there are
always things behind the scenes.
The internet never tells the entire story.
Everyone else has dirty laundry (literally and figuratively), too.
I don't need to see it, but some days it certainly helps just remembering that it exists.