the first little white dot to jump is my friend dylan. the second little white jumping dot is yours truly.
ironically enough, jumping was the easy part. it was the climb to the top that made me nervous. it was steep, slippery, and prooooobably a little dangerous considering the fact that we had been drinking tequila on the hooptie of a pontoon we rented. the climb was a little scary (yes, i totally sang the miley cyrus song the whole way up) but well worth the fun on the other side.
I jumped, fell for approximately 37 minutes (megan time, real time: 4 seconds), splashed, came up for air, checked to make sure my green polka dot bikini top was where it was supposed to be, and immediately jumped again.
i had a week. one of those groundhog day weeks where you wake up and think, "didn't i just do this?" drag yourself out of bed-go to hot yoga-have a near death experience from the heat before 9am-come home-get ready-go to the studio-dig almonds out of the bottom of your purse when you realize you haven't eaten yet-come home-wash off the makeup that is no longer serving it's purpose of covering the dark circles underneath your eyes-climb into bed-fall asleep the second before your head hits the pillow-wake up to your alarm and... repeat.
i demo'd eleven songs this week. that is a lot of band wrangling and singing, my friends. but more on that later...
the brightest part of my week came courtesy of my sweet friend and roommate heather morgan. i missed a baby shower for a friend of ours one evening in the midst of my craziness so she brought me home a surprise from the table our friends decorated.
they say it's the little things. i say it's the little hot pink things that come in bud vases.
we then sat on my bed for an hour in the middle of the night and talked about boys.
reason number 3,528 that i love her.
thank you for being a friend, sweet heather. this one's for you.
take a look at the header on my blog. take a look at the woven vases i painted and the new pillow that made its way to the giant nest i've been collecting on my bed. unfortunately for my under-decorative-construction room... this is just the beginning for me and chevron.
in april of this year i turned in my key to the yellow tile in the bathroom, leaky side door, crooked hardwood floor green hills house that i had rented for nearly 6 years and packed my bags (read: empty wine cases i snagged from the parking lot of bud's liquors) for 12 south.
i LOVE this neighborhood.
i love that you can walk everywhere. it reminds me of my college years in boston.
i love that every restaurant/coffee shop/salon/market/boutique is locally owned. not a chain in sight.
i love that my favorite coffee shop knows my order when i walk in the door.
i love that my friends live here and that i get to unexpectedly run into them.
the herringbone marble floors in my new bathroom aren't so bad either...
along with me, another new addition made it to the neighborhood this spring. the 12 south farmer's market. tuesday afternoons. 3:30pm-6:30pm. sevier park. veggies. dairy. flowers. meat. berries. honey. lemonade. straight from the farmers to you. doesn't get any better.
oh my. i might be in trouble. i found these delicious goodies at whole foods this week. turns out my new favorite human being, liz lovely, not only makes the most ridiculously yummy vegan and gluten free chocolate chip cookies of all time... she also makes a variety of other artisan recipes.
cowboy AND cowgirl cookies
chocolate moose dragons
goats a grazin'
triple chocolate mint
this woman is definitely baking a difference. on my waistline.
today i had the opportunity to join my church, crosspoint, in serving saturday. over 700 people got up at the crack of dawn to help out a variety of organizations in our community. i joined a handful of my friends and painted the interior of a house for mending hearts. this organization provides a place to live and recovery options for homeless women and their children suffering from various addictions and disorders. these women's stories are heartbreaking and incredible and it was a wonderful reminder of how blessed my life is. i am one lucky girl and am proud to be a part of a church that gives their time, love, resources, and then some...
Nope, it's not short for Margaret. Although when I'm out at a bar that is usually my go-to fake name. That or, "Charlie. My parents named me after my great grandfather who invented velcro". Depends on the mood I'm in and how good I am presently feeling about my poker face.
No unnecessary vowels. No extra consonants. No story about my parents thinking the name would sound distinguished when it followed the prefix "Madame President". Nope. Megan . Just Megan.