I cannot stress this strongly enough: Support your local theatre, café, bookstore, bakery, and library. We breathe life into these places when we support them. They need us, and more importantly, we need them.

I cannot stress this strongly enough: Support your local theatre, café, bookstore, bakery, and library. We breathe life into these places when we support them. They need us, and more importantly, we need them.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you’re under absolutely no obligation to justify yourself to anyone if you choose to spend the entire weekend drinking tea, reading books, and eating a scandalous amount of cinnamon rolls.

I still don't have a bookshelf with a rolling ladder, so no, I'm afraid your email did not "find me well."

It may not solve all of problems currently facing the world, but I think we can all agree that bringing back gargoyles, mixtapes, and handwritten letters with wax seals would be an important first step.

If you don’t want to read Edgar Allan Poe together by candlelight whilst sharing dark chocolate cheesecake and a vintage bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon in an abandoned cottage in the Scottish Highlands during a raging storm, then please don’t tell me you’re “open to trying new things.”

I live life by the nine Cs

-Chocolate
-Coffee
-Cobblestone streets
-Cats
-Crows
-Cottages
-Cream first / jam second on Scones
-Christmas
-Commas of the Oxford variety

Someone asked me why I talk to my cats because, in their words, “It’s not like your pets understand what you are saying.”

Suffice to say, there comes a time when a friendship has simply run its course.

At the end of the day, don’t we all just want to read books in a cottage during a pouring rain in front of a crackling fire whilst enjoying a plate of emotional support cinnamon rolls?

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but your belief that a bookshelf with a rolling ladder will fix you is a valid one.

Anyone who tells you otherwise is not worthy of your friendship.

If we can’t watch Hocus Pocus together whilst carving jack-o’-lanterns and having hot apple cider by candlelight during a full moon on a cool October night with the sound of wolves in the distance, then what's the point?

Surround yourself with the kind of people who consider The Princess Bride to be one of the greatest films of all-time.

Whilst I concede that texting is “convenient”, I much prefer all correspondence to be in the form of a handwritten letter composed on an oak desk by candlelight with a quill dipped into a bottle of ink, enclosed in an envelope with a wax seal, and sent via raven.

Reading Bram Stoker’s Dracula whilst eating garlic bread feels like the height of irony.

Never give up on your dream that one day, you will finally have a bookshelf with a rolling ladder.

At the end of the day, aren't we all just working hard to give our pets a better life?

I’m regrettably not eating a pumpkin scone in the middle of a fog-laden pumpkin patch on a cool October day with the sound of crows in the distance, so no, I’m afraid your email did not “find me well."

Be a handwritten love letter in a world full of Snapchats.

I recognize that "hustle culture" is all the rage, but what about "casually perusing a quaint bookstore on a cobblestone street in Edinburgh during a pouring rain" culture?

To my new followers:

You're in for a rude awakening when you discover that 93% of my posts involve cats, scones, independent bookstores, autumn, the Scottish Highlands, Agatha Christie, and the Oxford comma.

It’s truly not too late to turn back. My advice is to save yourself whilst you can.

If we can’t read Bram Stoker's Dracula together whilst enjoying a vintage bottle of Château Margaux paired with dark chocolate tiramisu in front of a crackling fire in a Victorian mansion during a full moon on a cool October night with the sound of wolves in the distance, then what’s the point?

At the end of the day, don't we all just want to go on bookstore crawls, bakery crawls, library crawls, and museum crawls?

Sex is great but have you ever spent the day reading Agatha Christie in front of a crackling fire whilst enjoying multiple cups of tea and freshly-baked emotional support scones in a Scottish Highlands cottage during a raging thunderstorm?