Today, I hosted a Bread Pop-up at Public Services with the help of Kelly Helgesen and my beyond amazing staff who volunteered to work on their day off after a long Saturday night. A truly special Sunday afternoon for the following reasons:

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I studied my first graphic design book to create this image, a collaboration between Ceci and I.

My parents came to my first pop-up. My mom saw the bar for the first time; she thinks alcohol is evil. Bread is my Siren. Dope.

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I am, even hours later, overwhelmed with gratitude to see friends, new and old, gathering to celebrate a part of me I love sharing. Friends that make changes to their travel plans to visit me in Gent, where I baked this summer; Friends who worked with me in a past career; Friends whose restaurants I frequent; Friends whose coffee shop I am well-familiar with their daily close-up song; Friends who know I love Beyoncè (where the playlist, on shuffle, with magical intention, knows to play their song when they arrive); Friends who end my evening with “Goodnight, Care Bear”; Friends that let me tell them about my even more natural than Tom’s of Maine deodorant experience; Friends that wear more plaid than I do; Friends that tell my parents they are fond of me.

At the end of the day, I felt like a host, inside her own world, doing what she loves—baking.

It’s amazing to see many people engaged in conversation with my sister today. Our lives so intertwined now that my friends are her friends. Was this event hosted by me or her? Perhaps it was the blue hair.

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She’s probably at home re-charging, like the rest of us introverts.

I slip into my covers this evening, feeling very grateful.