Went to my first pumpkin patch this week. Was attacked by dry, cold winds and dust. Luckily I had been listening to a lot of MCR’s Danger Days and wore my Killjoy bandanna so I was somewhat prepared. Goths in rural areas, it’s as funny as it sounds. Pumpkins were a bit more expensive than at the grocery store, but I guess you’re paying extra for the experience, which is odd. I felt like so much city girl stuck on her uncle’s farm in some Hollywood rom-com. The farmer was also very insistent on me milking one of the cows. I sternly declined.
And the aftermath:
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