speaking of jam...

a few days ago i got my own jar of jelly. and i am remiss to report that it is nearly finished. yes, already. what can i say? this girl likes her jam.

when i was in houston just a few weeks ago i got to have jalepeno jam. at a restaurant called reef helmed by james beard award nominee bryan caswell. let me just say this: this bryan fella, he knows how to make his food. i've been dreaming about that jam for days now. and not just the jam. but also the fresh beet ravioli. yes, beets! who knew?

and palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss.

she was over men. over the idea of it. or maybe just overwhelmed by the idea of it.

she was tired and exhausted and intimidated into exhaustion.

wanted nothing to do with dating or meeting or having to smile.

didn't want to feign a certain level of interest.

suddenly loneliness didn't seem quite so lonely.

but preferable. safe.

but oh how she longed to feel a boy's hand in her own. just that. that simple act. the warmth and touch. mutual touch. and innocence.

yes, that was it, she longed for the innocence.

for the time before. when fingers intertwined was enough.

more than enough.

oh to go back to a time when the holding of hands was everything.

today i am stuffed.

with the salad below. (euf, so full!)

with gratitude.

with love for friends new and old.

with undeserved kindness.

with peace.

and the knowledge and faith that life has a way of working out. (ps: remind me of this the next time i think the sky is falling, as invariably i will at some point in the near future.)

(note: ignore the strange look on my face. i think it's the product of nearly finishing the salad {yes, the ENTIRE thing}, which left me careening toward food comatose. and ignore my poor hair--that's a product of dying hair dryer.)

dear mallorie,

thanks for giving me my first cafe rio experience. and for the trip to wal-mart for a new hair dryer. my hair thanks you. let's play again soon.

xo,

meg

helloooooo, utah!

i had the loveliest afternoon. yup, the loveliest. there, i said it.

the gorgeous emily of la vie en rose treated me to gelato on provo's center street (we both had pecan) and then took me on a walking tour. she pointed out the best places for mexican food and milkshakes (diego's and sammy's {separate stops}).

i had so much fun and laughed and laughed and instantly i felt a little more at home.

oh, did i mention that when she came to pick me up she brought me a jar of jam? a jar of my very own. for the fridge. and yes, it's homemade. swoon. and yes, i've already had some on toast. and yes, perfection, it was.

thank you emily for giving me such a gorgeous welcome. (and for being patient enough to post for the obligatory picture-taking session). i can't wait to do it again!

ps: camilla of champagne bubbles posted this and it came as such a surprise. it kinda made my month. actually, no kinda about it, it did. it made my month. especially because i want to claim camilla as a real-life friend, desperately.

root bear floats. and a tangential reaching out to the makers of soda water.

yesterday after a run to the grocery store for some soda water (dear: canada dry, perrier, pellegrino, i am still waiting for you to offer me a sponsorship deal. let me give you a hint, i belong to the highest bidder--and by highest bidder i mean the company willing to offer me a lifetime supply of their product.) i stopped at sonic. i went inside. and was totally thrown by the red buttons and large display boards. ha! i had forgotten how sonic works.

i pressed the button.

and found the whole thing a bit disconcerting: like oz behind the curtain.

but in the end i got my root beer float, delivered on skates. and immediately i felt like i was twelve years old all over again driving with my mom in the car down a texas highway.