Jeans

That's a photos of me drinking coffee. If you look carefully, you should see that I'm really drinking that coffee--not just posing with a mug to my lips.
Erin and I went to Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, courtesy of the generosity of friends. Our place for the weekend was beyond nice. I completely fell in love with the house and daydreamed almost constantly about owning a house just like it ... one block away from the ocean.
Unreal.
Everything about the weekend was wonderful: the walks on the boardwalk, the video games at the arcade, the ice cream, the lobster (that I mangled like an idiot novice). We relaxed. We watched the Vans Pool competition and Poltergeist. We ate carryout Chinese food. And we both fell totally in love with the house and its surroundings.
Everything was almost perfect.
Almost.

There was one disturbing feature in the house that I (or anyone else on Earth) could've done without...

The denim upholstery.

Wow.

Not just one piece of furniture was covered in denim. 

Not two. 

BUT THREE.

In case the photos didn't capture the denim in all its glory, I took the following photo for you, dear reader, so you could see how my legs would just camouflage right into the couch.

That being said, the texture and horror of a denim couch did not prevent me from taking a delightful nap Saturday afternoon on it. I slept like a baby. 
No one could see my legs, but I slept well nonetheless.