Magpie

It's just a mineral deficiency
I told myself the day he started
eating dirt.
It must be genetic;
the emotion for disgust
is common.
It helped explain the way
he could stomach
his inappropriate appetite.
But he passed up the main course
and he fled right before dessert.
Behind him he left his napkin,
ingrained stains marked the corners
where he wiped the excess mud.
He must be having an emotional breakdown
or an affair with the flower bulbs.
I tried to make it sound romantic.
But the risk of eating contaminated roads
settled into my mind like dust.
His stomach tears open,
parasites march out,
soon they'll take over
the snow and sprinkle it black,
a reverse nighttime sky,
salt and pepper to taste.
I wish he would eat stars instead,
Gemini and Orion making love
in his lower intestines,
exiting in such peculiar beauty.

burgers and pistols

Some people like sleep. OTHER people (me!!!) like waking up waaay earlier than necessary in order to drink a free Rockstar (thanks, rich people up in Sundance) and write the getting-really-old-and-tiring caffeinated blog posts before going to work. Yeah! Yeah! What did I just write? Let me reread it right now - No! If I reread it, I may never choose to write again. I joke. Writing seems to be the only thing I can do lately. Well, writing and making cat puppets. Did you know I made a cat puppet last night? Out of a paper bag? From the trash? Trash kitty. "Trash Kitty" sounds like some hipster clothing brand based out of LA. They would have a bunch of oversized and overpriced tank tops at this store and so many fuckin' leggings. And maybe even earrings that look like hamburgers or pistols. Trash Kitty: Where burgers are the new black. (But please don't eat any of the burgers because you have to fit into those $249 crushed velvet leggings, okay? Or eat the burger, but then go on a 7-day coke binge and hit up some LA nightclubs so you can dance away the 249 burger calories. Fuck you in the butthole, LA!!!)

Oh my hell.

What is in this ROCKSTAR?!

I think all of you just rolled your beautiful eyes, abruptly stopped reading this, and have gone outside to roll around in the beautiful snow. Right? I really hope so. I wouldn't be offended. Nothing offends me. THAT'S A LIE. There are definitely things that offend me, such as asswipe butthead jerkfaces that don't treat my sister the way she deserves to be treated. I also get offended when people make really mean jokes, especially when they are directed towards women and their bodies. But fuckin' swear words? Shit no. I am so so so sorry, mom! I really feel bad that I subject you to reading these filthy words! But the letters are just shapes and symbols and we assign the meaning to them.

Anyway, the snow is gorgeous. And so are burgers. Don't be afraid of either.

We String Along The Space We Take

The contours of what we were orient and cement, create.

So we set out strong and believe the map to be our home; cardinal directions become the blankets we wrap around our feet, lines of longitude a way to stretch our legs (toes almost reach another hemisphere).

Things move differently when you cross that invisible line.

And we collect lost pieces of coast. And we arrange them with clumsy fingers. And we stir up the clouds to see the stars.

We are our own broken world.

hey! it's a poem i wrote almost a year ago! (not my best) (not my worst) (it is what it is)

Skeleton Population

She is a tourist trap,
an artificial ghost town.
No mine disaster happened here,
just year after year
of renovations
to make her face look more deserted.
She sets up saloons in her chest,
the ribcage her jail.
It's a popular place for a photo opportunity;
no one can seem to resist sticking their fists
through the bars,
guilty as charged for a flash and then
they're gone, headed now down
to the feet where she keeps
the graveyard.
Names don't matter so much on the headstones,
just as long as they are covered
with the appearance of time,
perfectly chipped, pieces missing.
If you find the time,
visit the Old West Penny Arcade
where ten tickets will buy her eyes,
the top prize.
Head there now before they close;
you wouldn't want to be left
standing among abandoned facades
that block the silent sunset.

beast of burden

I want to write more fiction (and by "fiction" I usually mean "non-fiction written in pretty language with perhaps a few details changed here and there"), but for right now I will write non-fiction (and by "non-fiction" I meant to say "incoherent ramblings fueled by two pots of coffee").

*Tonight Brian, the waiter at Village Inn, made fun of me for ordering so much food. And I was like, "Hey! Fuck you, Steven!" Oh, apparently his name is Steven. I keep thinking it's Brian, but then I remember a second later that it's actually Steven. Well, whatever. I still gave Brian a big tip because I'm really just so nice.

*By far the sexiest sex sex sex sexy sex song is "Beast of Burden" by Rolling Stones. Okay, so there are probably a dozen or so sexier songs (PROVE IT!), but holy sweet mary of buddha, that song can get me hot-n-bothered in 0.0001 seconds (then again, I've never been that good at math).

*ACTUALLY, I WAS CRAZY GOOD AT MATH WHEN I TOOK IT IN COLLEGE. I'm still quite proud of this fact. IT IS A FACT, YOU CRAZY FUCKBALLS! You aren't fuckballs. I am genuinely sorry I called you "fuckballs." Look, I'm trying to be more of a lady and curb my swearing, but not really. That was a lie. Still, I apologize if I offended any of you. I am really just so nice. I would totally give you a huge tip right now if we were in person (and if you were serving me food and/or coffee noooo no more coffee).

*Give me one good reason not to post this. ONE GOOD REASON.

*Now go turn down your lights and listen to "Beast of Burden." Ohhhh!!! What a sexy Wednesday night you are about to have!!!

(me encouraging you to have sexy time)

cut cut cut (also, hyphens)

what to cut out of my life:

*people that drag me down in one way or another

*over-consumption of particular chemicals

*constant self-body-policing (i don't know how to use the hyphen)

*constant inner critic (such as "i don't know how to use the hyphen" - but i seriously don't sometimes - that was mostly just an observation)

*tumblr!!!

*biotin (weird, i know - but it's causing me to break out! i never break out! i never get out! i need to get out of the house! train of thought derailed!)

*the feeling that i need to cut things out of my life - instead I should work with what i have, change my perspective, and regard all people/places/things as teachers

greener

You know what makes me really tired? Constant complaining, gloomy guses, awesome alliteration (I joke - I love it!), woe-is-me-the-world-is-awful-I-need-someone-to-complete-me-or-maybe-just-a-new-hairstyle-or-some-really-cool-jeans-or-a-shot-of-whiskey.

It makes me tired because, of course, I see myself doing all of these things. But I really really really want to stop being so negatively affected by everything. And I am very affected by the company I keep. I absorb. I sink into their skin without the other person even realizing it. I am like a demon! But not a demon. Just a human who observes the fuck out of other humans and can't help but be super influenced by their behaviors, choices, words, and so on and so forth and so I have decided to start being quieter, to start slowing down, to "disappear" for a bit and read books and write plays and go on walks by myself SANS PHONE. I need to cut waaay back on the chemicals that mess around with my brain chemicals. Balance, you're out there somewhere and I'll find you again.

And community. I'd like a community again. I long for a group that supports, encourages, inspires, uplifts.

Dear readers of this li'l blog, I know who you are and I admire you. You do not drag me down. You have helped me more than you realize.

And I realize the grass isn't always greener on the other side. Maybe it's not even grass over there. Maybe what I need is a hell of a lot of sand or dried desert mud. But what I'm getting at is that I'm going to start putting myself first. This may translate into being "boring" or "not around very often" or "kind of a prude," but, well, I'm okay with that. More than okay.

post

Sometimes I think to myself, "I bet my readers miss me writing about Spike and caffeine and using the word 'and' way too much and complaining about how there's not enough Native American flute music in the world and so on. I bet they really miss all of these things." And then I think to myself, "Well, let me write a post!" And then I think again, "Or maybe the post will write me?" And then I'm reminded of how tiring people can be who ask stupid questions like, "Maybe the post will write me?" What in Buddha's name does that even mean? Speaking of Buddha, who here just drank some SPIKE?! Oh, and yes, I DID spell "here" as "hear" and then quickly utilized my backspace key in hopes that none of you saw that grave error. None of you saw it, right? Thank god/buddha/SPIKE.

Oh man. That above paragraph was written yesterday. I didn't finish this post because I was all sorts of manic. I give up on this post, but I'm still gonna post it post post post post toast gonna make me some toast right now with coconut oil. Have you guys and gals and gender-neutral people ever had coconut oil on toast before? So super amazingly fan-damn-tastic. Post.

listen

"Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity." - Simone Weil

This needs to be tattooed on my body somewhere - or at least written on a 3x5 card and taped to my mirror. I can't begin to tell you how important attention and the selfless act of listening is in my life. Well, I suppose I CAN begin to tell you because I am writing a post about it right now.

I refuse to be an asshole, so I shall not name names of people in my life who have been poor listeners/observers. But there are those select few who have been and it has really put me in funks. I get frustrated and wonder how they could be so selfish not to notice this, this, and this about me/my life. But then I have to take a step back and ask myself if I am just doing the same thing to them - do I know their current struggles/joys? Do I stop and give them my full attention when they are telling me about their day? In many cases, probably not. And so I am a hypocrite. And so I am really trying to change this. And so I will listen to you.

But you have to promise to start listening to me as well. I know you don't read this because I've asked you about it before - do you read my blog? Why, no, I didn't know you had a blog. But I've told you about it a couple of times before... I've even sent you the link... I want you to know what goes on in my life if you'd just take the time to put down your phone and read. Or listen. Or ask. Or react.

I don't think I'm being "too sensitive." I believe women spend too much time apologizing for and downplaying their needs. And I won't do that anymore. I have a voice and I will use it; all I ask from you is that you listen.

koala lama

So here I am, Saturday morning, scrolling through Tumblr like a damn high school kid and listening to Native American flute music like a damn aging white hippie from Massachusetts. And, yeah, so maybe I had to google "Massachusetts" in order to spell it correctly. And so what if I ate dinner AND breakfast AND a few desserts last night? And let's say I'm drinking Spike out of a straw right now. Let's just say I am. What's the big deal?! It took everything in me not to CAPS LOCK that last sentence. I still used the question-mark-exclamation-mark combo that I know must peeve a few people out. Oh good - I typed "peeve a few people out." Well, obviously I typed it because you just read it. It didn't magically appear on my screen. But maybe? As skeptical youth, we always always always question everything (authority, the existence of god, whether or not to cut bangs). Good for us! Questions! Questioning is... Uh... Time to take a sip of Spike and come up with something that questioning is... OKAY! I've got it! Questioning is like a koala bear. You think it is cute, but it will probably claw your eyes out and then take a shit on your shirt.

But remember how I said I ate a lot last night? There were reasons why I binged (but not BINGED binged in the True Life: I'm a Binge Eater kinda way - no full sheets of cake or dozens of cheeseburgers from McD's, which, I know, would probably make this much more intriguing). I should further explore those reasons because that's what it will take to get me to stop bingeing and start addressing the "deeper issues." Yes, I know. It's because certain needs aren't being met and so I cover it up with food. Or something like that. I'll explore those reasons soon, I promise. But first I want to publicly tell you and myself that it's okay for me to "binge." Not to say that I am gonna keep doing it and that it's healthy - but that the world won't come to an end because I shoveled too much food into my mouth late last night. What if I actually had the power to bring about the apocalypse simply by chewing and swallowing food? Anyway, I'm not about to "beat myself up" for any of this. I'm not going to spend the better part of my Saturday afternoon at the gym "atoning" for my "mistake." I'm not going to fret if my pants are a little snugger. Everyone likes a little junk in the trunk, right? God. And I'm not going to say "junk in the trunk" either. I am just going to put my energy and time into more important things because, wow, guess what? There's an entire world out there and it's time I start exploring it (before I DESTROY IT with my extraordinary chewing/swallowing powers). Live outside of your head, Meg.

Above is a picture of me living outside of my head, but it's actually just a picture of the Dalai Lama with the Tibetan flag's sun radiating from his skull. Hey! Check out this weird as shit photo:

i don't mention spike ONCE in this post (psych)

First of all, thank you for your anime recommendations (and King of the Hill recommendation!). I promise to respond to any/all comments in the near future. NOT LIKE THE FUTURE EVEN EXISTS. But it actually does. It does exist. My mind doesn't know what to think right now. I decided to go without caffeine today, but then a splitting headache and a possible 10-hour workday told me to drink a little teeny tiny itsy bit of Spike. And so I did. Kinda wish I didn't, but I can't keep living in the past. NOT LIKE THE PAST EVEN EXISTS. But it actually does. That's why things are so shitty/awesome for us right now - because of the past and karma and my karma ran over your dogma and ma, I really want a dog.

NOOOOO I have to get ready for work. For as much as I, a privileged Caucasian female living in suburbia, complain about work, it really ain't so bad. I mean, I get to talk about anime and mythology and infinity with my coworker AND I usually get a shit ton of samples in addition to 10% off of Spike and vegan protein powder (WHICH I bought yesterday for a cool $35). So work is fine fine fine. I need to start complaining about more important things, like banks and Rick Santorum and how I am out of dental floss.

Okay. Work time. Tool time? Hammer time? Time to take this Spike away from me. Please. Somebody. Anybody.

frankly

I should be in high school again. I think I would really make a great high school student at this point in my life. I mean, I have the whole Tumblr addiction, I'm into local bands, I have choppy short hair - I would be the raddest high school student. Instead I am a college grad approaching her 30s who buys energy drinks called "Spike" and gets excited to make boxed mac 'n' cheese. Who says growing older means growing up? Frankly, I think - let's see... I forgot what I was going to say. I got distracted by the word "frankly" and wondered if I have any friends named "Frank" and then I thought of "Hank," which reminded me of King of the Hill, which is a television program I never watched, but would like to now that I'm older and not in high school. I would also like to watch anime. Any recommendations? I've already got some great recommendations, so maybe I should just stop asking for recommendations and watch the already recommended anime.

WHAT THE HELL?! What am I doing online? I just realized that I really really really want to be reading Alan Watts right now. So much. So much that I am actually sweating. Oh wait, nope. Nope, the sweats are from the hot laptop sitting on top of my sweatpanted lap. YES, I called it a "sweatpanted lap." So? SO?

So see ya in a few. Time to zen the eff out.

lopsided

I drank enough coffee tonight to write - or at least that was the plan. I should just stop making plans because I never seem to follow through with them. Instead of writing, I stuffed my face with food and stuffed my brain with the tangled web that is the, uh, Web. I am so off-balance lately. I'm gonna do what I do best and blame, yes, caffeine for my currently lopsided life. Even though I bought energy drinks tonight specifically for tomorrow, I think I might try my damndest to not drink any caffeine whatsoever tomorrow. Maybe I will meditate tomorrow night in addition to my morning practice? Okay, and I should probably stop trying to constantly "fix" myself. I ain't so bad how I am right now... Except I DO look like this:

spike shooter (but i hardly know her) (sorry)

Daaaaammmmmmit.

I want to write so much! I have to go to work! NO! White girl problems yes yes yes, I know.

Stay tuned, though. I plan to blog from the bathroom while ON THE CLOCK. (Just kidding, if you are my boss and you are reading this.) (Not just kidding, if you are anyone else.) (Which one is it? Am I kidding or not kidding?)

Okay, good morning and good luck and eat a banana today. Or at least call someone on your Banana Phone. Let's open the lines of communication, shall we?

v day, but not that v day (not the vagina day)

In one week it will be Valentine's Day. If I was cool enough to have a valentine, I would send them this card:

nitrous technology and dickwads and self-love

Good morning, dears.

I am taking time to respond to any of the comments that you may have left on my blog. I really do love any and all comments that I receive - I'm just terrible at responding to them. Well, NOT ANYMORE!

Dudes, I have bad habits. I'm trying to break them or change them (or maybe I should just accept them?) and for the most part I am doing well. One bad habit that hasn't changed much: My caffeine consumption. I know I am about 10,347 times less anxious without it and that it does nothing but turn me into an a$$wipe, but there's that quick boost of confidence and speediness that is so damn attractive to me. I should stop and say that this is in no way a habit but in every way an addiction. Okay, now let me go on and talk about caffeine some more. Just kidding. This topic is EXHAUSTED. But I'm not! Nope. Not after downing an extra strength energy drink that uses "nitrous technology." Really? Sold. (Tomorrow: Not giving up caffeine, but I'll consider it. The day after tomorrow: Yes, caffeine is GONE. The day after the day after tomorrow: Eh, one little can of Spike won't do me any harm. The day after the day after the day after tomorrow: Spike hangover. Dammit.)

I woke up early this morning so I could caffeinate myself, write, and listen to Native American flute music before work. I cherish time with myself. Despite the moments I have with feelings of self-dislike (not hatred, just dislike), for the most part I think I am the shit. I really can be my own BFF, you know? It's a wise thing to do (making friends with yourself) because we are kinda sorta stuck with ourselves so we kinda sorta should totally make the best of it.

THIS NITROUS TECHNOLOGY IS MAKING ME ROCK BACK AND FORTH.

Right now I'm thinking about all of the shitty things boys have said to me. Why am I thinking these things? It's okay to think about them - can't ignore them, but won't dwell on them. Hey, boys: Most of you bored me anyway.

Last night I freaked myself out because I kind of freaked out. I was backing out in the the parking lot at the gym and two cars were being kinda dicks and not giving me enough space. I calmly manuvered around the dickwads, but then as I was driving away I LAID ON MY HORN and sped away. Ha! What? That is really unlike me and I felt momentarily INSANE. So, yeah, don't be a dick to me in a parking lot? I don't know. I'm a wimp. But such a cool ass wimp that's ready for some...

...BREAKFAST!!!!!!!! Some nitrous oxide breakfast.

buddha bra beer

Hey, sweethearts. I am in love with all of you.

Why do I feel almost euphoric right now? I have felt this way the past few days, actually. There are moments, however, that I get pretty blue and/or self-conscious, but it doesn't usually last too long and then I go back to being super hippie buddha love love love Meg. Is this attitude annoying? Nah. I mean, it probably is to some people, but it's probably because those people are just going through a tough time and what they don't like in others is either what they don't like in themselves or it is something they wish they had in themselves... And they DO have it in themselves; we contain the universe.

Speaking of universe, you know what word sounds an awful lot like "universe"? University. And speaking of universities, I was at one this afternoon. The Utah Valley one, to be specific. What a trip, man/dude/lady/child of buddha. I haven't been on campus for quite some time - it feels like a different place and blah blah blah and people are scary yada yada yada. Why was I there? I met up with a friend (who teaches Ethics & Values at UVU) to discuss Buddhism. It was a wonderful conversation and showed me how very little I know about Buddhism. Whoops? Or perhaps hooray? It means I still have a beginner's mind and that I will always have something to do - I should never be bored because I could always always always learn more (or unlearn?) about Buddhism and religion in general and General Conference and kidding I don't want to learn too much about GC even though, you know, whatever.

We all have short attention spans. So instead of blabbing on and on in tangential sentences, I will just say quickly what I want to say. Lists! We all know how much I love the list.

*I emailed Susan Piver today about volunteering at a Shambhala Center this summer and she very promptly emailed me back with such exciting news - more details to come later, but basically it made me weep. WEEP.

*I'm digging not wearing any makeup or bras lately. Sorry, boys/mom! I don't really care to look like the standard "pretty" anymore. I just want to let go of that pressure and start spending my time and energy on what I consider to be far more important (i.e. Buddhism, reading, veganism, writing, making zines, relationships). So... yeah. That's all.

*Scott Carrier saw me today and said hello. He was really friendly and we talked for a few minutes. He said I look like a professor. Guess professors don't like makeup or bras, either! Of course, I was awkward and thought of all of the things I should have/should not have said to Scott immediately after we parted ways, but that's just the normal human thing to do - overanalyze every interaction you have and every situation you are in. I caught myself doing this and decided to just let it go and to "give myself a break."

*I could have been upset that I had to park at least 20 minutes away from the school, but I wasn't. I was actually really happy about it because it is a damn nice day outside. I got to spend time outside walking (the outdoors and walks - two of my most favorite things). Simple as that.

*Last night was a lot of fun. I spent it up in Salt Lake at Bryan & Cassie's place with a few great friends (Bryan, Cassie, Joey, Justin, Ned in spirit). We watched a little bit of the PUPPY BOWL, Snuff Box (so fucking funny), and then Akira (which blew my MIND). Cassie made very delicious mac 'n' cheese and brownies, which we all ate, and then we all washed it down with too many Sessions and PBRs. I loved it. I loved how casual it was and how comfortable I felt with them. Cheers, you weirdos.

*So much more to write. But I'm gonna eat lunch now. I'm always ending my posts talking about how I'm going to go eat, aren't I? Good for me.

Photo of me sans makeup and bra (also wearing my "professor" sweater):

puppies and lamen and maniacs

Spike, you aren't doing your job! I don't have any desire to blog! What is going on!

Maybe I shouldn't FORCE the blog posts. Maybe the blog posts will just come to me, like in a dream or in the form of a fisherman. A fisherman? What am I talking about? And for about three seconds I thought they were called "fishmen." But I'm pretty sure "fishmen" are characters in some future badass M. Night Shama Llama movie. What's his name? M. Night Shaman Lamen? If Lamen and Lemuel were alive today, they would either be the coolest guys or the biggest dicks. I want to believe that they would be really cool and into air hockey. They are brothers, right? And what did they do? Cut off someone's head? I feel like the Spike just went straight to my head. Like, right now. RIGHT NOW. It's like 10,000 puppy bowls are happening in my brain this very second. And yes, I too was just reminded of 10,000 Maniacs. What a brilliant band name! Really.

The word "really" has been used only twice so far in this post. Really? That's maybe a new record for me, really.

Did you know "vocabulary" spelled backwards is "I don't give a shit"?

Guys, the PUPPY BOWL.

There's something missing in my life right now... And it's breakfast! Gotcha! You thought I was going to start talking about something serious and depressing, huh? Like, I was gonna get all existential on your nicely shaped ass. Nope. I mean, I COULD, but I won't. We always have shit missing in our lives, but we just keep rollin' with the punches. God. I just said "rollin' with the punches." Turns out THAT phrase was missing in my life. You know what's NOT missing in my life? My constant need to CAPITALIZE every OTHER word.

So anyway, time to eat. It's always, always time to eat. Don't forget!

sitars and mommies

read and witness the caffeine/taurine/panax ginseng extract kick in...

*all i want to listen to lately is sitar music - i have said this before (i almost typed "i have sexed this before"! what a fun/telling mistake!), so i apologize if inside you are screaming, "shut up about the sitar music, meg! we know! WE KNOW WE KNOW WE KNOW!" stop screaming at me.

my blog is just a place for me to list things, now isn't it? "is not it"? <-- this has never made sense to me.

my blog is also a place for me to tell saaad stories about my eating disorder and social anxieties.

my blog is also slowly transitioning into a... MOMMY BLOG!!! SURPRISE!!! BIG NEWS!!! totally fucking kidding. god. that would be scary shit.

not that there's anything wrong with mommy blogs (even though there is). if that's your thing, then that's your thing. don't let me stop you (i'm super passive anyway). you probably hate my blog with all of your heart (because i say swears and talk constantly about sitar music).

breakfast, i miss you. time to eat you.