fire & reflection | 8th of november

This one's been in the works for a while now. First in a series of several. Use your imagination for the imagery, because you'll have to.

Starting in August of 2012, the idea of meeting/visiting Megan in Kansas City has had a steady spot in my travel considerations. The conversation began around cocktails and KC's glorious scene for them, but ultimately and over time and online chats, it boiled down to a simple "I've got to meet this girl." After 15 months and several failed attempts at arranging my schedule, we finally made it happen.

FRIDAY | A delayed flight had me in a frenzy. I typically do not function properly under pressure involving connecting flights. (It's because of the time in 2008 when I literally fell through the Atlanta airport after going through security AGAIN, unnecessarily. Almost missed my connecting flight to Washington, D.C., and that would have been a disaster on my very first time flying on my own.) After risking stranding myself at the airport, I heard the lady at the check-in counter assure me I'd be taken care of. I wept, quite abruptly, with joy...mostly with relief.

Did you know they offer crystallized lemon for hot tea on Southwest flights?

Only a slight delay in arrival. Megan showed up with that spunky little gem of a car and we whipped over to the Green Lady Lounge.

This. Place.  Pervasive Reds. Blacks. Golds. Excellently-curated light fixture collection. A perfect amber glow. Mark Lowry and his sultry way of playing that piano...I couldn't take my eyes away from it. Then the cocktail! *drums rolling*...Blood & Sand. The obvious choice because SCOTCH. Also, the name reminded me of a dashing and daring Persian Prince, and that was a nice mental image.

Grandly enjoyable conversation, peppered with moments of silence to take in this therapeutic night. The natural flow of things. Picking up and leaving off, thoroughly soaking up everything happening around. Practically perfect.

Winstead's for a post-jazz meal. Reliable. Onion rings on burgers. To-go.


Now, I can't even begin to tell you just how endearing that gorgeous home was. Believe me when I say that Wes Anderson would be happy here. I basically created my own scene complete with inner monologue in the bathroom brushing my teeth. It was completely believable. Margot-Tenenbaum-esque.

Megan offered me her room during my stay, which I was blown away by (both the kindness and the room). LAMPS. Again with the excellently-curated light fixtures. Central Park resides over the headboard. Carefully-placed linens, with a cigar AND matches tucked inside. Opulent robe at the ready. I was completely blown away.

/ / /

I feel I should stop here for fear of cheapening the richness and vastness of the weekend with paltry descriptions and recountings... Perhaps some snippets on the way along will suffice, in the form of future posts. I still haven't grasped the entirety of it myself.

/ / /

full. An accurate summation of the weekend's effect on me.

Megan is a gem and you would be remiss not to peruse her blog for a deep, always-poignant, and dazzlingly elegant perspective on life and the world at large.


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