when i graduated from college i never expected that i'd begin a blog. (secret? sometimes i still cringe at the word: blog. it's such an odd word, isn't it?). but here i am. here we are. nearly three years later (nearly, not quite). and i have a blog. and i am a blogger. and the thing is...i love it. unabashedly, i love it.
and i've learned so much. and i'm still just beginning. the story is new but long.
i couldn't have done it without all of you. you who read this thing and send me lovely words of encouragement. you who know just what a girl needs to hear and just when she needs to hear it.
so, thank you.
truly, deeply i offer up my thanks. for reading and responding and lurking and following and filling my story with wonder.
tonight at midnight i will randomly choose one follower to receive a little handmade piece of goodness by mail. if i could send one to each person out there i would, please know that. but money is little and time is short and let's be honest...i'm no oprah. so. there you have it.
my humble gratitude is yours. do with it what you will.
here's to the rest of the story,
meg
dear husband-to-be,
here's the thing: i want the cake smash.
dear God in heaven above, i want the cake smash.
i simply don't understand why it's no longer popular--why not everyone would opt for this little slice of whimsy.
because if you can't have a food fight on the day you pledge your life to someone, well then... what's the point?
love, love,
yours with a sugar tooth and cherry on top
(ps: my parent's did it and they've had a pretty good run. plus, i'm gonna need my own picture like this).
sometimes, late at night, i don't want to go to bed.
because life is too short and life is too sweet and i could cry for all the moments missed.
in quotes
if you hold onto the handle, she said, it's easier to maintain the illusion of control. but it's more fun if you just let the wind carry you.
brian andreas
you want to know what i like most about writing?
suddenly everything is art.
and there is scribble everywhere. scrawled on backs of receipts and torn envelopes. on the inside of book covers and discarded note cards.
and much of it is just that: scribble.
but some of it.
well some of it, be it a word or a phrase or a thought that was nearly not mine--fills me. topples me. undoes all i ever claimed to know or be. and it is love. and i am in love. with the world and myself and all that is yet to come.