I get a new knife every time I feel like I’m entering a new stage in my life. It’s a tradition I’ve taken into practice since I moved out on my own around five years ago. One part empowerment, one part courage-inducing, one part great interior decor, all awesome.

My newest apparently makes my eyes glow like a total creep. But it comes with a little baby knife attached! Which is cute and endearing. Thusly distracting from that creepiness. I shall name him Carl. And the little one Carl Junior.

Lights.