Q&A

They ask me questions, from across the room.  They ask them, not with words, but with their faces and with their eyes.   

Why not a little make up?  Why not a nice blouse?  Why not a smile, Meghan?

They're wondering why I look like death.  Why I couldn't have spent a little more time, made myself bright and shiny this morning.

And I answer, I think, with my whole body.   

Because I'm the kind of person who prefers honesty.  And honestly, if I did any of that today, it would be lying.

pieces.

This weekend, I ate cake for breakfast.  

Not everyday.  Just once.

But nothing says "long weekend!" quite like cake for breakfast.

This weekend I decided that

houses that face east are the best kind of houses.

Because of all the natural light.

This weekend, I went to the mall
for the first time in ages.
I bought a candle called "Leaves."
Because I am a big supporter of ringing in the Autumn season
way too early.
Like, when it's still over 90 degrees outside.
The candle smells like apple cider and cinnamon.
Which, in fact, smell nothing like actual leaves.
But I'm willing to let that go.

This weekend, I also bought $15 lip gloss,
and I'm now realizing that that is a crap load of money
to spend on a teeny tiny tube of shiny, sticky stuff.
Actually, Drew bought it.
But he was a good sport. 
Though not exactly enthusiastic about kissing sticky lips.

This weekend, I saw my best friend.
The one heaven threw into my life with perfect timing.
We laughed and there may have been Ke$ha playing in the car
for the first time in years.
We were not ashamed.
I miss her.

This weekend, I took far too many pictures of my house. 
But only the clean, pretty parts. 
So that you all can think that my house is clean and pretty
all over the place.

This weekend, I watched my husband spray the weeds and mow the lawn.
And I thought to myself, "Hey, look, I have a husband.  And a lawn.
How idyllic."

caramel sky

I'm going to miss the summer.  Where everywhere you look is life and warmth and sunlight.  It seems like I spend all year waiting for it and then it just slips away from me.  I'll especially miss the evenings.

Outside.  Bare feet.  Warm sidewalk.  Quiet street.  As we walked by the marshy area that leads to the lake, it smelled just like tomato plants. 

The light outside this time of year from 7:30-9 pm is so deliriously beautiful.  I don't own a camera with the power to do it any justice, but it's overwhelming to take in.  All dusty and dreamy.  Like the world was drenched in a caramely glaze.  Delicious.

none.

I have only just got my head above water.  

There is still a mountain to climb.

relapse.

I've had a slight relapse.  I let envy, that old enemy, somehow slip back into my thoughts.  And after that she went on to infiltrate my whole system.

I became jealous of everything.  Silly things.

Of shorter people, of louder people, of people with clearer skin, better wardrobes. Of those people who can pull off big, cheesy smiles.  Because that's just the way their face is.  It's a big, smiley face.  I'm more of a soft, closed-lips smile sort of girl.  Not to say that I never smile with teeth, it's just that when I do it looks sort of ridiculous.  Which is fine.  But sometimes you forget it's fine.

Sometimes you forget that the standard in your mind doesn't actually exist. 

finite.

"Often with humans, both good and bad, my senses simply shut off, they get tired, I give up.  I am polite.  I pretend to understand because I don't want anybody to be hurt.  That is the one weakness that has lead me into the most trouble.  Trying to be kind to others I often get my soul shredded into a kind of spiritual pasta.  No matter.  My brain shuts off.  I listen.  I respond.  And they are too dumb to know that I am not there."**
                                                                                    
                                                                                       -Charles Bukowski

Because my perspective is nothing short of limited.  Because I lack the ability to see anything beyond right this second, in front of my face.  Because I am a finite vessel.  Because I tend to forget more often than I remember.  Because all things greater than this are simply out of my reach.  Because I am nothing more than a child.

You remind me.

At first, I'm mortified.  Because how could you?  But then, for a moment, I get a glance from a more mighty perspective.  I can see that you took a good thing to give me something greater. 

And at least I remember to say Thank You most of the time. 

**Quote ripped off via.

this week.

I feel that.

So, our old landlord found a new tenant for our old apartment.  That means that we no longer have to pay for the month of July, which is the best news I've gotten in...I don't know.  At least since the cancellation of Jersey Shore.

I lost my bra yesterday.  Somewhere along the way to our workout class, my bra went missing.  I completely forgot about this until this morning, and I was late to work after burrowing through bags of unpacked clothing to find a replacement bra.  I'm still not sure of the exact location of my preferred bra, but will keep you updated.

We put an offer in on another house.  Because the last one fell through.  Which is not a rare case by any means.  As for this house, I kind of love it.  It's quirky and has old-fashioned moldings and windows, a cool spiral staircase, windows on the roof and a reasonably updated kitchen.  But I'm realizing that it's possible for me to fall in love with an extremely wide range of houses.  So, if we don't get it, whatever.  There are always more houses.  So many houses everywhere.

I applied and interviewed for a promotion at work.  Interviews are the worst.  Sitting in a room with a stranger, talking yourself up as if that's ever socially acceptable.  As if you have so much practice talking about how awesome you are.  Nobody likes people who do that.  Except for in job interviews.  Then it's totally fine.  Anyway, I figure it was worth a try.  I also got what they're calling a second interview on Friday.  Second interview?  I feel like I spent all of my bragging juices up on the last one!

Speaking of Jersey Shore, do you know people who seem to wish that their life was like that show?  What I mean by that is, they have problems, or "beef," if you will, with a plethora of individuals.  So many individuals and problems with these individuals that you can't even keep them straight anymore.  And it puts a pretty big damper on any sort of social gathering you might want to plan in the future.  (Such as a housewarming party?  Is that wishful thinking?  Probably.) 

It's diabolical behavior, this having problems with peeps.  If someone bothers me, I just, you know, walk away from that person.  Just like I would a bush full of bees.  If this person is somewhere that I am, I don't let it ruin my whole entire night/week/LIFE.  And I definitely wouldn't get mad at the person who invited me to this gathering for not considering my current drama-related dilemma that I undeniably brought upon myself.  What is it with these people.  Having problems.  With people.

Anyway.  It feels like Friday, but it's not.  I want to have a brownie, but I don't.  And that's life, I guess.

warm nostalgia.

via *

eyes wide open 

through the night, 

never enough sunlight. 

sleeping through the morning 

most everyday.  

we greet a cloudless sky, 

make our way outside. 

we had one meeting place, 

for a few months after May.

an unlicensed drive, 

try to outrun our lives.  

perfect song on repeat.  

I couldn't tell 

what it would mean to me. 

but we kept up a decent pace, 

for those few months after May.  

you wonder if it will be this way.  

next year, the next day.  

wondering how long we'd last 

on nothing but sun rays.  

living only for the summer, 

never counting days.  

it wouldn't be this way. 

but we kept it up like no one could,

for those few months after May.

I saw a lady dance yesterday
She was easily swayed
I cannot be tossed and turned 

in this way
I'm not your tiny dancer

-LM

 

Because words are failing me.  Because my lips are dry, my skin is itchy and my allergies are back after a week in a kinder, more humid climate.  Because my thoughts refuse to organize and have been insisting on this diabolical behavior for too long now.  

Because these days are starting to blur into one in a way that I find unsettling.  Because I keep jumping back and forth between plans and I just can't seem to get a grip.  Because I'm missing people, and never know how to handle that.  Because I get myself down, and then feel guilty for it, which gets me even more down, if that's even a thing.  Because I'm still not sure how to measure my both precious and insignificant existence.

But Laura Marling's new album is out.  And I have this husband who takes my hand and tells me he loves me with words on a daily basis like he knows I need.  So I'm planning on burying myself for a while, into these good things.  And not even I know what I mean by that.

"You came here to tell me something I already know. Dark before the dawn is the darkest I can go. The calm before the storm is what leaves me here to breathe. So breathe. Us of constant banging, throwing fists against the wall. Screaming at the earth for what it's done to one and all. I came here to tell you something you already know. Just Breathe. Breathe."

-L.M.

shrill as a choir of children, urgent like the first day of May.  -C.O.

I always used to think that I'd eventually turn into the ball of light I wanted to be.  That was the plan, though I made no effort to set it in motion.  As if all of the personality traits and natural tendencies I never had would just appear in me one day.  I'd wake up with energy and perspective and the ability to light up any situation.

But the farther I travel, the less likely this appears to be.  I'm so out of reach, made my way too far down this road.  Each day the sun gives a pleasant greeting and I pull the shutters closed.

it's probably my fault.

It's coming on quick.  We're getting to it now.  The point that you've been pushing me toward.  The point where I'm going to have to tell you "No."  Where I'm sure you won't understand. 

And we'll always remember this as the moment where you and I were never the same.

a thought.

"I love the way you can fall in love with a piece of literature; how words alone can get your heart doing that."

        -Laura Marling

*found via pinterest

The longer I lived my life expecting to find magical moments like I find bulk diapers at Costco, for everyday tasks and conversations to boom with the extraordinary, for all of my comings and goings to mimic what I've read in all of my favorite published books, the more I realized....

Life is just bad writing.

a different kind of missing.

The thing is, I tried to make plans, but you only canceled again.  And I have no doubt that you really were sick and tired, like you said.

I just hope not of me.

Maybe by now we're more like two people with memories than actual friends.  Because you no longer rely on me to remind you to breathe, though I think that was the goal all along.  And this next part is selfish, I'd never deny that even once. I guess I just miss how it felt for you to need me.

circle of influence.

if you had a flavor,
it would be initial sweetness
with a lingering taste of melancholy.

I'm not chronically miserable.  
it's just never been so effortless 
for me to simply feel happy.

a hunger to understand myself, it dictated my every thought until I grew old.  and what for?  we aren't made to comprehend ourselves; we're strangers here.  unaccustomed to the ways of this world.

we're ill-equipped for lasting beauty.  we can get on without credit and fortune and applause.   we need only keep in mind, When we are in the service of our fellow beings, we are only in the service of our God.

processing

I write to write, because I can't not.  I certainly don't mean that without writing, I would literally die.  That's rather dramatic.  And the dangerous type of drama.  The kind that got Romeo and Juliet into such trouble.  That story makes me crazy.

What I mean by not being able to not write is that, without writing, my life seems to lose its quality.  My mind doesn't work as well.  Writing is my way of keeping my thoughts in check.

In the not-so-rare case that a certain idea takes root in my head, and begins to expand into my every thought, I know it's time to write it down.  It's a way of taking the power back, so to speak, from my own brain.

The great thing about writing something down is that I get to explore it completely, and give it all of the attention it's been demanding from me.  At this point, I let go.  This idea that I've been restraining and trying for so long to keep from taking me over completely finally gets to to run free from my head into words.  I write and write and take all of the time that I need to do this idea justice.

Once that's over, I own it.  That idea is mine.  I get to put it away or take it back out on my own terms.  It's no longer swimming around in my head, incessantly distracting me from anything else.  And at this point, I feel relief.  My head is once again clear and able to process what it needs to.

A picture may be worth a thousand words.
But this isn't like the chicken/egg debate -
The words were there first.