camptown races

                             Hat: Nordstrom BP // Flannel: Forever21, old (love this one.) // shorts: UO (also cute -- these + these) 

First of all: that hat, man. Light of my wardrobe's life this week. I think it may just take the cake for most complimented piece of clothing I've ever worn. Also, protects me little nose from that Denver sun. Five stars for you, floppy hat!

And now, let's talk about July. It always seems to me that July -- no matter what is or is not scheduled -- is a month of pure & total insanity. It is the Great Enigma of my life how this happens, but it does. Who's with me! It's not totally awful, though. It's weirdly good. That said...I'd, for one, be fine if all water fountains just abandoned their offering in lieu of unending streams of espresso for the month of July. It all started with the summer I went away to orchestra camp. We can discuss the comparable nerdiness of orchestra camp to other camps if you'd like. I was also a big-time fan of drama camp, but there are other, rich stories there for another time. Ok, but point of story: I don't really remember anything from that particular July of my tenth year except adjusting my glasses, clutching my violin like a madwoman, and playing Camptown Races on and on and on and on. Camptown Races -- in all its syncopated hyperbole (at least when children are playing) is the perfect soundtrack and metaphor for the entropy that is July, every year, forever. 

This is one of the many things that gazing back upon childhood has taught me. But more on that later, I think.