It felt like spring again this week. 

It rained a little yesterday and left the smell of fresh-cut grass in the air.

[One of my favorite lines of poetry: "When the world is puddle-wonderful," from E.E. Cummings' in Just-.]

I wore a skirt with tights one day and left my jacket at home on purpose several times.

I'm not sure what's going on, but now I'm  hearing we might get snow this weekend. I'd normally be all for a nice little blizzard, but I've gotten a bit spoiled by this warmer weather, and I have exciting things planned for March. And with March comes spring. 

There's nothing I love more than the beginning of a new season. So let's just get to it.

[Photos: Scenes from around our apartment this week.]

Wishing you a mud-luscious weekend. 

Believe it or not, over the past few years of my blogging career, the question I have gotten the most is, "How do you curl your hair?" After eventually deciding that your compliments are not actually tiny slaps on the face of my writing skills, I will now finally show you exactly how I do my hair. Because you asked. And yeah, because I thought it would be fun.

I recorded a vlog for you, but almost immediately after finishing it, I decided that I hated it. As far as video tutorials go, I don't think I'm the girl for you. So I'm not going to post it. If you have twelve minutes to spare and would like to watch a video in which I mumble and struggle to treat a video camera and computer screen as a mirror, please, be my guest. Just make sure to say something really nice about me in your comments, because I still feel a little weird about it.

If you have ideas for vlogs that you'd like to see that do not include me trying to teach you how to do something, I'd love to hear them. Until then, I have a step-by-step tutorial on how to get the most perfect of Megan Curls. You're welcome.

Now go get 'em, girl.

Three years ago, a very tall boy who went to school down the road from me had my roommates let him into our apartment while I was in class. When I got home, he had already gone, but I sat down at my desk to find a little card by my computer. It displayed an old man, sitting in a rocking chair on a porch somewhere, with a bottle of soda in his hand.

"Maybe it's the soda talkin'," the printed text inside the card read, "but I'm plumb goofy over you!" And then, the sweetest handwritten note from the giver, perhaps a bit immature for a nineteen and twenty year old, but perfect nonetheless.

Will you be my valentine?

I'm so glad I said yes.

Valentine's Day came, and I was his date for a semi-formal event with his fraternity. I put on a black dress I had borrowed from my best friend Emma, curled my hair, slipped into some high heels and then twirled in the living room of that same apartment while Michele looked on and announced to our other roommates, "Hey girls come out, Megan looks hot!"

[AXE Valentine's Day Semi-Formal, February 2009]

Sometimes I forget about the beginning of my relationship with Rob. I forget that we began as complete strangers, became friends, and then dated casually and carefully before we realized that what we had together was different from before.

I didn't know that the boy who left that cute card for me would end up being the man I'm sharing my life with today. At the time, I didn't even know if he was going to be my next boyfriend or not. I didn't know that a few years down the road, we'd be eating dinner together every night in our home. I didn't know he was the person I would include in the dreams about my future. I had no idea Rob would end up being the guy that I would want to hold on to until the end. But he did.

And I'm so glad.

Happy Valentine's Day