in which the photos don't match my insides.

<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIBXXNkI7ugantdo1oP1xzH8wZS5I-eInvHEP9C7dKEkQUKBwKDvpiyAips_Qc7JcXyC1JTrrOdVCN1oo3nPZzD-dEYQf9RBvF-RauoVeYVE7VsXcmtJPR2CjEmz7BRDnu_y3hfpahWDaH/s1600/K1britt3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIBXXNkI7ugantdo1oP1xzH8wZS5I-eInvHEP9C7dKEkQUKBwKDvpiyAips_Qc7JcXyC1JTrrOdVCN1oo3nPZzD-dEYQf9RBvF-RauoVeYVE7VsXcmtJPR2CjEmz7BRDnu_y3hfpahWDaH/s640/K1britt3.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: x-small;">shoes: don't recall. shorts: american eagle. shirt: j.crew. belt: thrifted (american eagle). bracelets: forever21. earrings: hawaii.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJFFVvidBGXT55ZzkfLLZVJhZYoHmxrDpk6dZs9S6QsoLaZMMpLgR29sWqiYppjfHjZf2x1HDuKt7351obqBZvi1GbfJakD83KW9dyqI-H1VNxHJtjhjAX4gi7QKsKBYLjqbAnhiuafuwc/s1600/K1britt1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJFFVvidBGXT55ZzkfLLZVJhZYoHmxrDpk6dZs9S6QsoLaZMMpLgR29sWqiYppjfHjZf2x1HDuKt7351obqBZvi1GbfJakD83KW9dyqI-H1VNxHJtjhjAX4gi7QKsKBYLjqbAnhiuafuwc/s400/K1britt1.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmM1SGVQZ10ZECFESxE4eLK5wMm0p0a341xEsCbiASKdhdTa2UuXUKqPoDRLbDfudpTdYuo6bppeMFzGeRGy3y55xOSDoSnJNRD3ttih1pXQC9dwy5QmSF76hlrEULp2nSxFFRSdLoJMz/s1600/K1britt2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmM1SGVQZ10ZECFESxE4eLK5wMm0p0a341xEsCbiASKdhdTa2UuXUKqPoDRLbDfudpTdYuo6bppeMFzGeRGy3y55xOSDoSnJNRD3ttih1pXQC9dwy5QmSF76hlrEULp2nSxFFRSdLoJMz/s640/K1britt2.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Traveling in Europe about 10 years ago, I was stopped and scrutinized at customs after handing them my passport. When I smile, my eyes nearly disappear into squintiness, and my smiling passport photo looked nothing like the straight-faced me. I'm sure it was for less than 10 seconds that they alternated between looking up at me and down at my photo, but it felt like an eternity. An eternity packed with crimes that I never committed but felt guilty of.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">[Epilogue: Eventually they let me through, and I proceeded to eat my weight in Italian ice cream.]</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My best friend growing up called them "happy clown eyes," because she said they turn into two rainbow-shaped arcs like what jolly clowns paint on their faces. Which is nice of her to try to say, but...really? Clowns? Yipes. Those guys are creepy, whether their eyes are painted happy or sad or dead.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I've always been surprised to see photos of when I'm smiling, because I look so different (a.k.a. weird) from how I feel (a.k.a. normal). Regardless, it's how my face is built, and I figure I've got a few pretty solid options for how to deal with it: </div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">(1) botox and/or plastic surgery. With such a face, I wouldn't physically be able to smile, which means no disappearing squint-eyes ever again! Tempting. Oh. Wait. Nope. Not tempting. At all.</div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">(2) practice and perfect a mouth-only smile. Hello teeth. And also goose-bumpy insincerity. </div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">(3) never smile again. But I find myself too funny for that option...and my husband would miss my solo hysterical laughing fits, I just know it. </div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">(4) just go with it. Done and done. Exhibit A:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSvmf7OgH6e4V4wp6EUvcQZTS_Q-aY2AZh7bd9ZVZ2q21O4s5Ssp_kVl-fiCzwnhbTpg6iuXi8T4ko66FFN_tjYf4AFD5ZZTd-Xb7npgVEZZ_yvdrHMqUz4Fl8KLXUFypF0DXd9rB7kvmi/s1600/K1britt5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSvmf7OgH6e4V4wp6EUvcQZTS_Q-aY2AZh7bd9ZVZ2q21O4s5Ssp_kVl-fiCzwnhbTpg6iuXi8T4ko66FFN_tjYf4AFD5ZZTd-Xb7npgVEZZ_yvdrHMqUz4Fl8KLXUFypF0DXd9rB7kvmi/s400/K1britt5.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Happy Friday!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Want this look? Click below...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="background: white; border-bottom: #bfbfbf 1px solid; border-left: #bfbfbf 1px solid; border-right: #bfbfbf 1px solid; border-top: #bfbfbf 1px solid; display: block; position: relative; width: 430px;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="150" scrolling="no" src="http://widget.shopstyle.com/widget?pid=uid6676-2041974-73&look=3525426&size=Small&width=6&height=1&layouttype=0&border=0&footer=0" width="430"></iframe><br /><div style="bottom: 2px; height: 18px; left: 0px; line-height: 12px; position: absolute; width: 100%;"><div style="left: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px; position: absolute;"><a href="http://www.shopstyle.com/browse/Forever-21#pid=uid6676-2041974-73" style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; color: #606060; font: 11px verdana, sans-serif; text-decoration: underline;">More Forever 21...</a></div><div style="padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 3px; position: absolute; right: 0px;"><a href="http://www.shopstyle.com/#pid=uid6676-2041974-73" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;"><img alt="ShopStyle" src="http://resources.shopstyle.com/im/widget/ShopStyleLogo_powered_small.png" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /></img></a></div></div></div></div>

in which the photos don't match my insides.

  shoes: don't recall. shorts: american eagle. shirt: j.crew. belt: thrifted (american eagle). bracelets: forever21. earrings: hawaii. T...

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Be prepared...

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3PaNJJEaQQgzJD9cP1heTkW4frMhMHyhxY0JopEXZJG1BgNbGehKTKS5aBD1rAvnRpcUyKCodGjGS2etRqnYOghUvLMxW6er0PrRZWPCS8PUFzC4ATyFc2STjzSr8rqkywEQoUO34AemJ/s1600/O1britt1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549478446851878242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3PaNJJEaQQgzJD9cP1heTkW4frMhMHyhxY0JopEXZJG1BgNbGehKTKS5aBD1rAvnRpcUyKCodGjGS2etRqnYOghUvLMxW6er0PrRZWPCS8PUFzC4ATyFc2STjzSr8rqkywEQoUO34AemJ/s400/O1britt1.jpg" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" /></a><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-G9a-qVjdJFQqDLx0XVPxY-Io5l9dg_DfUlhl4tqcCdpB22BlK72zJTcZrMP2XKSIKMCJq97eiMDStSvo7R0ZRDGVWds2loWpdSWw6Ir-e6ZL1W6SQlR2xgy45xxxUWNCOW_JwDSGFs8x/s1600/O1britt2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549478341098563794" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-G9a-qVjdJFQqDLx0XVPxY-Io5l9dg_DfUlhl4tqcCdpB22BlK72zJTcZrMP2XKSIKMCJq97eiMDStSvo7R0ZRDGVWds2loWpdSWw6Ir-e6ZL1W6SQlR2xgy45xxxUWNCOW_JwDSGFs8x/s400/O1britt2.jpg" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" /></a> I'm going to make this quick because it's Saturday. And, frankly, you have better things to do than read this all day. The same may or may not be true for myself. But either which way...</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">For me, Saturday has waaaaaay more emphasis on comfort and function than anything else. And I don't think I'm too weird to feel that way. So I wanted to keep things neutral and blend in...not trying to start an attention-grabbing "my sweats are better than your sweats" contest. (Although, truth be told, I defy you to come up with more comfy sweats than mine, which are actually my husband's, but they're also mine because I'm a firm believer and frequent proclaimer to him that "what's yours is mine and mine is yours" especially when it comes to his comfy sweats. And sometimes his socks. And maybe the munchies that he brings down to the couch. And pretty much everything that he's got that I might want. Heh. Wife of the Year, baby. Right here.)</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">AAAAAANYwee. I started with the grey sweater this morning, because it fits the bill for neutral, comfortable, and functional. And it's warm. But the neck is a little blah, so I threw on a basic button-up underneath. I wanted to wear old jeans today because...because old jeans are like a woman's best friend.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Here's the dilemma, though. These old jeans, which were calling out to me today from the depths of my closet, are bootcut, and I wasn't in the mood for that. But I ignored myself and just did a big ol' comfy-cuff at the ankle. And some canvas houndstooth slipons. Add a bright yellow nylon belt because it felt kind of industrial. Like a toolbelt. And, hey, you never know when you'll be passing by a construction site where they need some help with something and you'll be totally qualified and capable because, hey, check out the heavy-duty belt.<br /><br /></div><div align="center">Add some great messy braids (braids because my hair's too short for a cute topknot bun and messy because that's how they're going to look in 3 hours so I may as well make it look like I'm going for the look on purpose) and neutral bracelets because, actually, I really DON'T want to help out at any construction site today. I'm a girl, dangit. See these bracelets?</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Happy Saturday.</div>

Be prepared...

I'm going to make this quick because it's Saturday. And, frankly, you have better things to do than read this all day. The same may...

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