Chu-Chu-Choose Me!

Guess which Orem Meg MAY have a crush on Steven Chu, the United States Secretary of Energy? Well, it's THIS Orem Meg. Look at this guy! Look at that mole! Fun fact: When Steven was a boy, he taught himself how to pole vault using bamboo poles obtained from the local carpet store. Unbelievable!

sosososososososososo

You know how sometimes you will go to a party and a girl will come up to you and tell you that she is friends with so-and-so and that this particular so-and-so said really good things about you and that you are really funny and that she should be friends with you? And then you learn that so-and-so had the swine flu? And then for about four or less seconds you experience a montage of your friendship with so-and-so and remember that you and so-and-so were best friends at one point? But now you don't even have so-and-so's number nor do you even feel that concerned that so-and-so had the swine flu. well, i mean, you're concerned, but you're not rushing out to buy any "get well" mylar balloons. And then a day later you blog about this brief and relatively insignificant blast from the past and wonder why you did so. Perhaps you wanted to talk about how quickly things can change, how rapidly people come and go in your life (in everyone's life, really), how you wonder how long your current so-and-sos will be around, how to not get the H1N1 virus... You want to talk about all of these things, but find that you presently do not have the energy nor the desire, frankly, to delve into these so often discussed topics. You would rather get into bed. You would rather read Eastern philosophy (always the cure for your moments of distress and/or friendship breakups with so-and-so and so-and-so ad infinitum). You would rather not look back, you would rather not look forward. You are looking now. You are happy with your now so-and-so. Now is good. No, now is not good. Now is not bad. Now is now is now is now ad infinitum.

Next post: My recent obsession with using the phrase "ad infinitum." And also my obsession with getting rid of obsessions.

i use an old joke in here...see if you can spot it! the first person who spots it gets a tax break and/or a kitten wearing a bandana eating a banana.

Okay, maybe that post was too short. But the picture was good.

Today I went to the Arts Festival with my dad. It was fun to see/hear him talk to every photographer there. And he actually knew quite a few of them. I hope I get to a point in my life when I can casually shoot the shit with other people in my profession. I also hope my profession isn't something having to do with motorcycles or taxes. I hope my profession is that of a writer. I may write about motorcycles and taxes at some point, though, so in a roundabout way my profession MAY end up having to do with motorcycles and taxes. I will title my first book (which will be an unofficial autobiography of myself) You Can't Get Into Heaven with a Motorcycle: A Look Back at How Meghan 'Biker Babe' Wiemer Avoided Paying Taxes for Most of the '90s: The Nineties: A Decade or a State of Mind?: The Mind: More Than an Empty Bucket: The Bucket List: A Stupid Movie: Movies: Are They Really Better Than Books?: Yes.

Today my dad bought three Alan Watts books. I am proud of him. I bought an old hardback copy of The Catcher in the Rye. I am proud of myself. Pride: A SIN.

"Think of it - unchastity is second only to murder. Perhaps there is a common element in those two things - chastity and murder." -Elder Bruce C. Hafen, 'The Gospel and Romantic Love,' Tambuli, June 1983, page 23

WHAAAAAA?!?!

Anyway, here is a picture of the first motorcycle, which was built, ridden, and then destroyed all in one day, which was surprisingly 100 years ago this very night.

Not impressed?

You should be.

this kitten looks like jack

Maybe my posts need to be shorter. And include pictures.

there is a lot of love to go around, so i will say it one more time: i love you.

I have about 13 minutes to write this post, so maybe I shouldn't even be writing it in the first place... But man, I just want to WRITE. Quick-- I need something to write about. Something that will result in a witty, perhaps charming, intriguing, sexy, hilarious, heartbreaking, intellectually stimulating, visually breathtaking, sincere, and honest post.

NO! I will NOT write about anxiety!

NO! I will NOT write about depression!

NO! I will NOT write about eating disorders!

YES! I will write about how indoor lighting can drive me crazy when it's still sunny outside.

I will write about my tendency to bite my lips, crack my fingertips, and occasionally wink to make sure my right/left eye isn't failing me.

10 minutes left!!!

I will write about the lady that followed me TWICE into the bathroom today at Borders. Was she really following me? Or am I just paranoid?

I will write about how I am paranoid.

I will write about how money doesn't talk, it swears. It's obscene. It's a myth. It's not worth worrying about. So please, don't.

I will write about Woody Allen's absurdity and how it makes me both laugh out loud and want to take a nap (to rest my brain).

I will write about how I just Googled "out loud" to make sure it was two words.

I will write about how much I love the TV show Felicity. I love it so much. If anyone is up for it, I would love to have a Felicity marathon. I would love it so much.

5 minutes! I think!

I will write about my ever increasing love for flannel shirts.

I will write about my new found love for rap. RAP.

I will stop writing so I can go home and take some kava to calm me down. Wait! I wasn't supposed to write about anxiety. But I did. And there is no backspace on this keyboard. Just kidding, of course there's a backspace.

But is there a backspace in you MiNd?!?!?!?

thoughts on a saturday

*i have good friends.
*i wish i didn't have a panic attack yesterday in the newsroom because i should have stayed longer. i apologize, jennie.
*comedy: it's what unites! oh, and divides. that letterman/palin thing is a joke in and of itself.
*"in and of itself"... did i use that phrase correctly?
*i want to read thomas pynchon.
*i met matthew holland yesterday. he joked with me about shootin' hoops.
*meeting matthew holland yesterday was like meeting the bishop.
*i hope najib is feeling better.
*why does jack's throat hurt???
*today's "lunch" could have been a good idea or a very, very bad idea.
*is it possible to not think enough but at the same time think too much?
*i need buddha again.
*buddha would not want me to want him.
*this is why i want him.
*convoluted.
*remind me to buy toilet paper today.
*my hair is ugly lately.
*i can't decide if i am j.crew or tattoos.
*i really do have great people in my life.
*and i love you.

my titles have nothing to do with my posts, so... DMB is in my CD player right now. and it is so good.

I don't want to make this blog be one that I only write in when I am sad or anxious. I don't want to always complain about this and that (and without a doubt end up sounding ungrateful, selfish, and whiney). BUUUT...

Today I have been anxious.

Surprised? I didn't think so. This anxiety has been totally caused by me and me alone. I could have prevented it, but I didn't. So I shouldn't complain. Then why am I even mentioning that I feel anxious? Perhaps I want to purge myself of a little bit of my anxiety by telling all 17 of you. Maybe I think someone would benefit from reading this because they would be able to relate. But is the real reason why I am boo hooing on my blog because I want some kind of sympathy? Pity? Hug? I am guessing it's a mixture of all of these things. Also, I am just passing time.

What to say about my anxiety... Maybe just that it's real? I wonder sometimes if people think I am making it up or exaggerating just how anxious I get because let's admit it-- I can be a rather dramatic person. But I can also be a really quiet, closed off person as well. And non-confrontational (well, except for lately...). Put these things together and you've got a classic case of the "let things build up until you explode and have a hysterical breakdown" syndrome. Is that a syndrome? Well, it doesn't matter. What matters is that I need to take better care of myself. And I don't mean physically, even though that is very important. I mean emotionally, spiritually, mentally. Lately I have found myself pushing through each day, trying to be funny, cheerful, in the moment, etc. But my feet end up dragging and everything in my brain turns to static and I do all I can just to not start crying. MIND YOU that not all days are like this. I have my very peaceful, content moments; however, I fear that my emotionally exhausting days are far too often than they should be.

What am I so sad and anxious about?

This is what gets me. I feel guilty (and therefore sadder and more anxious) about feeling so gloomy. I have so much going for me. Really. SO much. There are wonderful people in my life who care deeply about me. I am doing well in school, I get to be the features editor for the newspaper, I overall have my health, although I do not currently have a job I have enough money to get me by, and the list goes on. So it should be easy enough to just say "snap out of it" and then, well, snap out of it. Then I can magically turn into a happy person 24/7. Right? To be honest, that does work sometimes. I believe that if you want to be happy, if you say you are happy (even if you are kind of lying), then you can truly be happy. And then I start thinking about what "happy" really even means and why everyone needs to be happy... But perhaps I will save that for another post. My point is... My point is that depression is sure a bitch. It's a struggle, a lifelong struggle. And damnit, so is my eating disorder (which is definitely another post, a post I have already written... probably numerous times...). I just want an understanding ear. I want a patient hearts. I want a sympathetic shoulder to cry on. I want someone to break down my walls even when I say I want to be alone (I don't, I really don't... defense mechanism at its finest). Let me just say that I DO have these things. And I want to thank all of you who are there for me. It means a lot.

I want a breath of fresh air. I want to be okay.

I want to make this post better, but the computer lab is closing. Time to publish this and then go to sleep and then wake up in the morning and feel slightly embarrassed/nervous that I published this.

Catch ya l8r, sk8rs.

and besides, i couldn't afford the bus fare

I want to post something, but my eyes are heavy and blurry-- I should just go to sleep. I was going to post the lyrics to Jenny Lewis' song "It Wasn't Me," but i decided against it. It seems like it would have been too much. But if you are at all interested, google it and read it for yourself. See ya sooner or later, kids. Probably later. Camping. You know how it goes. I need a hug.

your turn

Time for another list post:
*I've spent far too much time in front of the computer these past few days. My brain is applesauce.
*My dreams lately have been relatively controversial. And they leave me in a confused state of mind for the rest of the day.
*Sigh.
*I used to think everyone was older than me. And usually they were. But now I feel old. Everyone seems so young and silly.
*This list is yaaaawn. But if you knew what I dreamt about, you would be on the edge of your seat. You'd be sweating bullets. You'd be crying. You'd be sighing. You'd be as confused as I am.
*I'm not that confused, actually.
*This is confusing because I am being so vague.
*A little mystery never hurt anyone. UNLESS THAT MYSTERY IS THE DA VINCI CODE!!! (I'm pleased that Da Vinci Code jokes are back in vogue. I am a little saddened that swine flu jokes are now passé.)
*Grocery shopping. Tomorrow. Will buy healthy food. Will make a meal. Jack and I shall not starve.
*When you take your pill
it’s like a mine disaster.
I think of all the people
lost inside of you.
*I have people lost inside of me. Most definitely.
*And then I wake up.


I like my new hair.

you look like a monkey and you smell like one too

I found out today that I will be going here for my birthday next Saturday:

I am pretty damn excited. Of course, I am sad that Jack will be out of town for my birthday, but hopefully I can have a small get together a few days before/after my birthday with Jack and all of my friends.

I have said "birthday" too many times in this post.

Last year for my birthday I was lying on the grass in a park by the railroad tracks looking at my feet and the mountains. It was a good day.