
Here is the point in our relationship where I confess to my closet love for the one and only Miss Taylor Swift. Or T. Swift, if you live at my house. Or if you are cool. I finally gave into my urgings a few days ago and downloaded her new, 1989, album and it’s been looping on repeat since. Taylor Swift 1989. IT’S THAT GOOD, ear worm type stuff. So what, I’m a 30-something wife and mother with decidedly more…
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