tender moments: pun intended

Metaphorically unbuttoning my jeans

One of the major benefits of living in a city like San Francisco is the culinary scene. Now, before the haters come for me and accuse me of pretending to be a foodie, let me set the record straight: I am not. My staple foods are chicken tenders, bread, and soup. Fine dining? It’s lost on me. But, what I do love is a restaurant with great ambiance. There’s something about the atmosphere—the buzz of conversation, the clinking of glasses, the families and friends gathering—that just makes a meal special.

Last night a group of girlfriends and I braved the two-hour wait at the hot new SF restaurant, Little Original Joes. Picture this: Italian-American dining nestled in a cozy neighborhood fully decked out in festive holiday decor. It couldn’t have been a more perfect scene, like something out of a movie. To make it all the better, they even had chicken tenders on the menu (which, might I add, were delicious).

It was one of the best meals I’ve had in some time. But, here’s the thing: the food was secondary. Sitting there with my three close friends sharing dishes, animatedly exchanging stories, giving updates on our lives with faces glowing, excitedly discussing plans for the future, and chatting with strangers sitting next to us filled my soul along with my belly. We were surrounded by good energy, not just good food.

While waiting for the waitress to bring our check, an elderly man who had been sitting alone next to us politely interrupted our chatter, “I don’t mean to intrude, but I’ve been watching you all from the corner of my eye while catching the Warriors game on the TV above you. You've been smiling and laughing the entire time. It’s nice to see people having this much fun.” We chatted for a while with our new pal, Stan, and left—our hearts feeling even more full.

I woke up this morning still flushed by the warmth of this evening, thinking how lucky I am to have such nourishing friendships. My eyes wandered to my 2024 vision board (a collection of symbolic photographs) that I’ve had up on the wall all year. My eyes focused on a particular picture of four girls we all know well: Carrie, Miranda, Samatha and Charlotte— laughing at a cocktail table in a scene from Sex and the City.

Call me cheesy and sentimental (I am), but one of my intentions for this year was to cultivate and deepen my female friendships. With several close friends moving out of the city, I was worried I wouldn’t feel whole and that their gaps would be too hard to fill. But what I’ve realized is that true friendships don’t fade with time or distance; they only grow stronger. And nights like last night are a reminder that, no matter where life takes us, we’ll always have each other—laughing, sharing, and filling each other’s cups in ways that no meal ever could, just like our fav TV girls.

To my incredible group of gals — I love you dearly. You make my life sparkle.

walk boldly,

Caroline