The Bee's Knees

Trench: Nordstrom (similar). Tunic: Aerie. Skinnies: Anthropologie (similar). Flats: Target. Glasses: vintage (similar). Tote: Madewell.

Pictures hold some craycray stories. These pictures in particular.

Just to my right in the picture was a parked car waiting for some drugs of some sort. Well, that's what Matt and I surmised anyway. I am sure I was great entertainment for them as I bent and jumped all over the place. 

Posing for pictures with an audience is slightly perplexing, especially when said audience are thugs with shaved heads and eyes that could blow a bullet through you, more so than the machinery they are packing.

No, we don't live in southeast LA, but it appears that way. The city we live in is actually really nice, but that's apartment living for you. It doesn't help we live at the end where there is a conveniently  vacant lot for drug deals to go down (that large space directly behind me in the picture).

I even made my very first bust last week -- I have the safety of a baby to worry about now! It was incredibly satisfying to watch the PoPo roll in and interrogate the wee little pothead teenagers. You might say I'm the Bee's Knees. Hey, for all I know I just prevented an innocent kid doing something stupid, which could potentially have led to a life long struggle with addiction, turning them to the streets, all while being a teen mom. I always picture a horrible domino effect situation, just like those stupid DIRECTV commercials. I wouldn't want to play Platoon with Charlie Sheen either.