Struggle.

I struggle sometimes with what to write on here.

I struggle with how honest I should be. Cuz I worry. I worry I might offend whoever is reading this thing. I worry, cuz I don't know who may find it (an ex, a long lost friend, my family and so on) and what they'll think of it...and think of me for writing what I write.

I struggle with how much I should share. How real I should be.

But I suppose you should know...

I'm probably the only girl you'll ever know to wear a motocycle jackets and pumps in the same outfit.

Outside of Brooklyn anyway.

Absolutely nothing makes me happier than sipping coffee and reading a good book.

I dream of a day where I no longer wear a uniform to work, but a dress and blazer.

A lot of people think I have a mouth like a Hallmark card. But I don't. I have a mouth like a sailor.

(Thank you, Miranda Lambert.)

Before I am a photographer, I am a writer. And to be honest, I want a job in writing more than anything.

Cooking is the only thing that truly calms me down.

I cry. A lot. Like over semi-sentimental commercials.

I'm not perfect, but this is me.

Take it or leave it.