She-The Monkees.

I know that this is technically a "Mickey song", but Davy is a total master of that tambourine.
Rest in peace, dreamboat.

xo

~sarah p.

p.s. Most of my childhood dreams involved one (or several) of The Monkees. My father was quite a fan, and there was a fair amount of memorabilia around the house. Oddly enough, Mickey was my favorite, as was my mother's when she was a girl. Gross.

Weatherman.

See, weatherman? This is why we all make fun of you.
You said it was supposed to be warming up today, and my hopes were sky-high.
You were wrong, and now everyone is sad.
Thanks a lot, asshole.

~sarah p.

p.s. Today I helped move my mom and step dad out of my second childhood home. We found a jewelery box filled with a mini silver big rig, an 'I Love Puerto Rico' charm (nobody in my family has ever been to Puerto Rico), a very large gold cross (we were not a religious family at all), and a half-eaten cookie with tiny beads pressed into the surface. They say we tend to block out the not-so-pleasant childhood memories in our pasts, and I can't help but think this was one of those specific cases.