I truly have nothing to say.

   ^^ my head, in picture form.

Most people that know me know that it is a serious rarity when I literally have nothing to say, but well, it happens. Lately I've been in a pretty huge fog, and no amounts of caffeine are seeming to shake it. The other day I was using my laptop while Jake was watching football (go Pats! - as if I have any idea what's going on, I just know that's who I cheer for. Because I was told to, and duh, Tom Brady), and I couldn't understand why it kept freezing and wasn't responding to me. It was probably due to the fact that I was touching the screen to attempt to do things, not using the mouse. I mean, I'm just as shocked as you are that my 15 year old laptop doesn't respond to my touch, really it's just offensive - doesn't it know me?! In my world, that's what my people lovingly refer to as a Britard moment - let's not get started on when that originated. Okay fine, because I love you, I'll tell you. My brother and I were at summer camp when I was maybe 9-10? FINE, I was 13. I was reading the cereal box one morning and couldn't figure out why the French version of the nutrition content had a higher percentage than the English? My wonderful brother informed me that it was because the French in fact get more vitamins than we do, he said it had something to do with their tongues (the French side is the side with milk added for nutritional value). Aaaand clearly, I believed him. I know, you guys, I KNOW. Britard was born, & it's been going strong ever since.

So anyway, enjoy these photos that have absolutely nothing to do with my fog, I just came across them again today realized they never got posted, which is silly because I was pretty happy with this outfit. It's also the day my boyfriend threw me a surprise birthday party, when about 5 hours earlier I was nagging him for not being very romantic.. Yeah, how's that for timing hey? #girlfriendFAAAIL.

Also, RIP Target, I am literally in denial. The f-ck Canada? The F-CK.  I did however buy up all the XS's in my favorite tank, so the blow is hurting slightly less. Where I'm going to put 25 assorted black, white & grey tank tops in my teeny house maintains to be a mystery.