say cheese

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How fantastic is this painting of a grilled cheese?

In the grass?

On a sunny day?!

I mean, I’m *this* close to putting up my Christmas tree, but this has me pining for summer.

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Nothing really suggests any sort of joy exuded from either woman. And let’s be honest, I expect nothing less when it comes to being a forced subject of Paul Gauguin’s.

The man is simply intolerable.

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Edgar Degas takes me an ideal Saturday afternoon with his composition At the Races.

No, I’m joking. I wrote that before I started doing all this research. Spending time watching someone else nurse my child seems SUPER STRANGE. And I could not be FURTHER FROM PARENTHOOD RN.

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Roy Lichtenstein really nailed my steady stream of tears scrolling through cute puppies, triple-layer cakes I can’t bake, and cute couples walking hand-in-hand before becoming swept up in a warm embrace.

Just kidding, my nails are never done, nor is my lip color! I’m charging my phone, sitting on the edge of my bed in a towel, 20 minutes behind plans, just like every other basic chick.

sink your keith into.

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I need a tomato slice, or swiss and mushrooms, on this bad boy before I call it dinner, but DANG!, this looks delicious right now.

That and I’ve eaten about 4 pounds of Milky Way minis since Tuesday night…needin’ some meats!

one of each, please.

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I went to a wedding this past weekend, and I’m like, yeah, this works.

But why settle for a celebration when you can go buy a cake whenever you want?!

bread and cheese.

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Me, yesterday: I’m giving up bread and cheese this week.

Me, by Friday: *elbows-deep in chicken pesto pizza*

Here’s to crushin’ goals, everyone!

Behind every great woman is another woman rehearsing every word sent in a text to a man confirming a Bumble date…or grocery item…or really, just anything.

out of office

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There’s legitimately nothing I enjoy more than deleting unread emails. Especially the ones with those high-priority flags. Or deadlines. Those are really special to ignore.

progress of love, pt. 1

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Fragonard was commissioned by Madame Du Barry to do a series called “The Progress of Love.”

Madame Du Barry was the grand mistress of Louis XV (reminder: XV was the penultimate King of France before his grandson XVI ruined…well, everything royal…with the French Revolution).

Barry was also gifted the most sensational diamond necklace by same guy, who died before its ultimate finish, which sucks because she didn’t even get to keep it: She was of course banished by his grandson, Louis XVI.

Things don’t end up well for Barry: She ends up both banished by Louis XVI and without an incredible diamond necklace (it was a huge scandal, called simply “The Affair of the Necklace,” which…so boring).

Before all that bad news, however, is this gorgeous “The Lover Crowned.” I’m so obsessed. I can’t wait to drape a man in a goddamn laurel as if to say, “”I PHYSICALLY CROWN YOU WITH MY LOVE.”

What a pair we’d make…just don’t banish me without diamonds.