fresh face.

nothing like a bottle of wine (or two) to make the tears come. it works everytime. even in the midst of a party that i may technically be hosting.

but sometimes the tears need to come. sometimes they are necessary. no matter the time. or date. they are needed.

so my ruffled eighties dress and i plopped down on the hard floor of my personal bathroom and let the tears come as sounds of laughter drifted up the stairs. 

tis life. and tis reality. 

now i simply must pick up the pieces and continue on.

a clean slate. an empty email inbox (yes, i finally erased almost everything... refreshing, emotional, but baggage not needed). and new horizons to reach for. 

the tears swept through the eighties makeup. but now a fresh face is set to be painted.