I, like any self-respecting five year old girl, was pretty enamored with Mary Poppins from first spoonful of sugar 23 years ago.

And while you wouldn’t expect a woman in her late twenties to continue to look to a fictional nanny who flies through the sky wielding a carpet bag and a sassy parrot umbrella as a role model, I’m here to inform you: she’s the best. It’s fine.

She does not accept nonsense. She makes her own rules. She has jolly holidays and is accessorized to a T. Plus, she gets to dance with the chimney sweeps.

I spend my days working at a tech company and my nights trying my hardest to not think about working at a tech company. I love cooking and reading, and, thanks to my degrees in clothing design and visual culture, sewing and researching history of textiles. And also history of other things. I love history, team. I’ll research it all.

But I also love sharing my stories, and my current roommates 1) a fake owl affectionately named Herbert who is a bit too much of a pacifist to properly scare the chipmunks away from my patio garden like he is supposed to and 2) a four foot skeleton floor puzzle named Mabel who is still coming into her own (aren’t we all?), aren’t very good listeners or you know, human.

That’s where you come in.

I accept only the best nonsense. I make my own rules, but struggle to get others to follow them. I have jolly holi-moments, and I’m not accessorized to a T. I will say, however, my purses usually do hold everything and am pretty great at dancing sans chimney sweep.

I’m not Mary Poppins, but I do have a parrot umbrella. I vote let’s do this thing.

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