Goodness. Gracious.

I've been getting ready for my England trip and although I've got loads of  things to do, I need to tackle the mess that is my room first. I can't believe I still had eighth grade Hollister t-shirts, and what's even more unbelievable is that Hollister hasn't changed their style a bit since eighth grade, so I gave them to my sister and they're still acceptable in the middle school realm.

The weather is colder in England, so I'm trying to bring key warm pieces like sweaters and jackets with me; In an effort to pack said warm pieces, I bought a light blue and orange argyle Lacoste sweater vest(on sale!)Wednesday, which is perfect for playing tennis(or just looking I still play tennis). 

I still really need to buy some warm clothes, because well, vests don't have sleeves, which is normally a crucial point in the warmth department, but I'm not sure where I can buy sweaters in the heat of the summer, in a place that rarely sees snow.

I had my hair done last Wednesday by Danielle at Arcs, and although I normally love the styles she gives me, this one is less than desirable. There I was, just sitting on the chopping block(I mean, in the stylists chair), getting a normal trim when all of the sudden I blink and then see my bangs falling on the floor like wrapping paper on Christmas morning(quickly and in abundance). So I now grit my teeth when accidently catching a glance in the mirror at the horror which lives on my forehead; my brand new choppy, piecey, yucky, emo-teen bangs. Dear bangs, please, please,  grow out before I see too many people I know...