remarque

Note to self:

*sit down
*eat food
*massage your butt (and calves and scalp and thighs and shoulders and maybe even splurge occasionally and pay for someone to rub these body parts for you, preferably someone with the hands of a god(dess))
*sit down
*eat food
*maybe try to sleep longer than 5 hours each night
*maybe try not to stay up until 4am watching reruns of bad reality shows so that you can get more than 5 hours of sleep each night and/or not turn your already mushy brain into an even mushier mess
*make (and keep) all of those scary appointments you've been meaning to make for, well, years
*don't let money stop you from LIVING YOUR DREAMS!!! unless your dream is to go up into space with Richard Branson cuz that shit'll cost you at least 69 million dollars. 69 million sexy dollars. dollar? but I hardly know her.
*be consistent with your capitalization and punctuation
*oh yeah, meditate. forgot about that one, the one that is probably the most important one. well, I suppose the "eat food" is the most important one.
*slow down, in pretty much every way
*stop feeling guilty -- or at least start feeling guilty about the "right" things (and then get rid of that guilt by changing your behavior -- is it really that simple?! yep.)
*keep writing, even if it's 69% of the time shit
*clean up your frickin' language, potty mouth! just shittin' you.
*connect -- with others, with yourself, with the earth. peace, brother. peace, sister. peace, mother. peace, father. what the fudge am I saying.
*hey, your intuition has time and time again proven to be pretty spot on, so perhaps now is the time to start listening to and following it.
*listen
*speak
*sit the hell down
*eat some damn food

love you

pullman

Well. I was, shall we say, slightly frantic in the previous post. We shall. We shall say that. Or I shall. And I did. I did shall. Shall we move on? New day, new post, Newsies was my favorite movie as a child and it was tied with A League of Their Own and Bill Pullman was an actor in both of those movies and so you would think that seeing or hearing about Mr. Bill Pullman now would bring back a flood of memories and a tsunami of nostalgia, but nope. Sorry, Bill. Except why am I apologizing to Bill Pullman? He won't read this, he doesn't care, it's not as if his entire existence rested on me feeling nostalgic at the sight of him. So I take back my apology and instead I say in a slightly frantic voice, "Screw you, Pullman! Screw you and your children and your children's children!" If he dies tomorrow, I am going to delete this post.

Where was I? Nowhere. And what a perfect place to be! You see, I am one who feels compelled to constantly move and change what I am doing and what I am seeing and where I am being. In other words, I can't be. I can't just be still or be nowhere. OR CAN I?! I can. I can! And I know this because I have been still, I have been (perfectly) nowhere for the past several days. Not by choice. Definitely not by choice. My body decided one morning, "That's it. I'm exhausted. You have put me through the wringer and I QUIT. Or at least I am taking a prolonged vacation." Then my body packed its bags and nearly slammed the door. Okay, wait. That makes it sound like I am now a ghost. I am not now a ghost, although hahaha sometimes I totally feel like a zombie robot ghost hahahahahaha lololololol 4ever. But I am not a ghost. I am just a physically worn out slightly frantic entirely adorable girl who was never and will never be in love with Bill Pullman. That is just who I am. And I am being forced to acknowledge and, hopefully, accept this. I am also aware that that is not all of who I am -- and I am curious who else I might be? Who is this person I'm with 24/7 and who I treat like garbage? Maybe she ain't so bad, maybe she ain't a pile of fish bones and some old banana peels. Maybe she's worth getting to know.

So get I must. I must get to know myself before I decide to destroy myself. I have a hunch the desire to destroy will vanish once I stop to listen and see, really see. My body may have gone away on vacation, but I am returning and unpacking.

It's good to be home.

back

It's been a long time, doofuses. Doofusses. Doofis? Jesus, this is how I begin a new post? After months and months away? By calling my one or two readers a mean name? Doofus isn't mean, though. Doofus is playful! Playful isn't mean! Except for playful is usually mean, huh. Like, I'm pulling your pigtails and chasing you around the playground! PLAYFUL. (No, mean! I don't care if you have a crush on me, causing my scalp pain and making me feel like prey is NOT playful.)

Let me start over.

Hi! I'm back!

I can't tell you exactly why I took a several-month break from blogging -- and writing in general. Sure, I composed witty one-liners in 140 characters or less multiple times a day. And sure, I often sent my best friend some really clever texts. But writing writing (you know, something substantial, longer than a paragraph, not about how much I loathe the rotting pumpkin "president") ceased. Suddenly. Just one morning I woke up and went, "Nah." Nah to what? Nah to rambling on and on about nothing in particular? Yes, but those ramblings served some kind of purpose, if even just to myself. They were (and are) a release. They illuminated a path I did not know existed and sometimes even created one I didn't know I needed. My "ramblings" are a way to connect with myself and, I pray to buddha, a way to connect with others.

Okay, I feel cuckoo brains right now. I am struggling with finding words and forming sentences and figuring out what it is that's inside of me that wants to get out. I am simultaneously thinking too much and not enough. I am crippling myself with doubt. I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I

am going to stop stopping myself. Starting now. Okay! So here I am! Vulnerable and unsure and pretending to be A-OK with all of it! Fake it 'till you make it, doofuses. Lovely doofuses. Brilliant, intelligent, capable, inspiring doofuses. My favorite doofuses in the world, to be quite honest.
And I am nothing if not quite honest.

My plan today was to write. I was to spend hours upon hours diving deep into my psyche, extracting all kinds of hidden gems and, yes, pearls. So far I have rambled (which is fine! yes! fine!), shopped for socks online, parted my hair in the middle, applied red lipstick three times, chewed on four trays-worth of ice cubes, read about Buddhist nuns in Nepal, did a load of wash, made my bed, browsed through a couple of cookbooks, tidied up my email, walked around in circles in the living room, and changed my outfit twice despite being home alone with no one around to impress except for my never impressed inner critic. So. I guess plans change.

And they can keep changing, so maybe my original plan that became sidetracked by other plans can be sidetracked again and placed back on the intended track. You know, two sidetracks make a track. Wait, what? I've become sidetracked again. No, not sidetracked, just confused. Typical! And that's okay! Okay. OKAY. Time to delude myself into believing this post is worthy of publishing. I am not even going to include any fun pictures right now. I am just going to hit publish and pray that my doofuses will forgive me for... well, for a lot. For disappearing for months, for reappearing with a less-than-amazing post, for playfully referring to you as doofuses, for not saving any ice cubes for you. I am sorry. I'll make it up to you. I'll buy you a sno-cone and stop chasing you on the playground. But quit my ramblings? I can't and never will make that promise.

mole

Hey! Guess which restless neurotic foggy blogger is actually sitting down right now! And in a fairly okay mood! And running off of the fuel that food has given to her as opposed to fumes and caffeine? THIS foggy neurotic! Give me a medal! Give me a sucker! Give me a pat on the bag and a bucket of ice to chew and a gallon of hot tea to drink and a yurt. Please give me a yurt. My restless neurotic foggy blogging soul yearns for a yurt; always has, always will.

Yesterday I was a MONSTER. I don't know what in the world brought out my worst side aside from, sure, lack of sleep (but that's nothing new!!!) and Mercury. Yes, Mercury. Mercury in retrograde to be exact. I'm not exactly sure what any of that means, but I am 100% willing to place the blame on anything or anyone if it means protecting my precious ego and sense of self. Is "sense of self" synonymous with ego? Aren't the ego and the self the same thing? Why do I get hungry for frozen waffles anytime I type "ego"?

Today, thankfully, Mercury is going in the right direction and so am I. Well, I'm not necessarily going in any direction, but at least I'm not spiraling downward like I was a mere 24 hours ago. I believe a part of my not-horrifically-horrible mood today is due in part to the fact that I was BRAVE and went to the doctor's to get my blood checked. I also got a flu shot, which is almost as good as getting free frozen waffles. I was productive, I took care of errands, I did not stay holed up in my head all morning or afternoon. I will, however, stay super holed up in my brilliant head tonight because that's just what I like to do on Friday nights. That and defrost waffles.

The weather. The weather is also perfect. It's the right amount of rain and the right amount of chill and the right amount of fall. Bundle up a little, grab your stupid umbrella, and head out the door. Pretend you are in Portland walking to a local coffee shop in a gentrified neighborhood. Pretend you are going there to sip your skinny chai tea latte with organic unsweetened cashew milk while you write character sketches in your Moleskine for that screenplay/masterpiece you've been working on since graduating with an English degree over six years ago. Pretend you are going to sell that screenplay and make your millions and make your mark on the world by being the first screenwriter to win both an Oscar and a National Book Award and a Nobel Peace Prize and the New York Marathon. Pretend you are glowing. Pretend you are the muse. Pretend you are invincible and visible and on the verge of levitating. You are it. You are what we've been waiting for. You are glad you grabbed your umbrella.

Now where was I? Oh right. I was and still am right here. I have to remind myself of this every 45 seconds or so. Hey! Meg! You! Are! Here! Got it, thanks. I made a note of it in my Moleskine. Maybe you should, too. Maybe we should hug, eat waffles, and worship Mercury together. Think about it and get back to me. <3

constant

Hi everyone! I've wanted to write for the past few days, but I stop before I even start because I hold myself to such impossible standards. Lower your standards, Meg! Lower your standards and up the iron in your diet. Lower the stress and up the, uh, fun? Yeah. Fun. Lower your eyes and up your chances of not slipping on a banana peel. I could continue with this lower/up thing all day, but I won't. I won't because I have some strawberries that need washing and nails that need filing and trees that need hugging. In other words, I'm too busy to entertain obsessions.

I am not sure I have anything new to say today. I suppose I always have something new to say -- we all do -- but it takes too much self-reflection and careful thought to come up with these new things. So that leaves me with... old things? Old things to talk about? Old isn't the right word. The more appropriate word would be constant. Constant things. They are the things (and people) (and places) (and probably poor ideas) that occupy most of the space in my wonderful, weary head. The constants are: food, my life's purpose, food, the eternal search for my origins, breakfast/lunch/dinner/snacks/food, books, Buddhism, burritos and/or virtually anything edible.

See. Nothing new. I've written it all before. What a chore. A chore to read, a chore to write, I joke IT'S NOT A CHORE. It just rhymed. I'm not a fan of rhymes, though. I dunno. They just seem kinda cheesy and forced. Mmmm. Cheesy. Mmmm. Forced cheese. Mmmmaybe I should go eat.

Eating has been rewarding yet challenging lately, I must admit. That's to be expected, but that doesn't make it any easier. Still, I have to eat in order to think, and, funny enough, in order to survive. So I think I'll keep it up. I have to learn how to stop fixating on food, though. The interest in and excitement for food and cooking is very welcomed, but I also want to learn how to simply make and eat a meal and then move on to other things. I guess I need a job/hobby/spouse/family/dog/cat/crossword puzzle. I guess I just need to be open.

This isn't complete. I had more to say, more to write, more to reveal. But I am tired and I want to eat a salad and I want to publish this now so that later I will feel like I accomplished something today. Okay! Okay.

adjust

Guess which neurotic blogger just sat outside for a few golden minutes? If you guessed this neurotic blogger, you'd be mostly right except I don't consider myself a blogger. And I'm probably not as neurotic as I think. Or am I?!?! I don't know! I feel so unstable, unbalanced, maladjusted! Okay, kidding. For the most part. For the most part I feel fairly balanced these days, whatever "balanced" means. To me balanced means occasionally sitting outside instead of compulsively walking for hours. It means eating a burger for lunch instead of three trays of ice cubes. It means saying "okay sure fine I guess so" to a situation instead of a firm and unwavering "NO WAY NOT A CHANCE, BUD." It means learning to fill up the glass at least a little when it has been bone dry for decades. It means those things and probably more, which I'll have to discover on my own.

Today I have felt like a robot. I guess I have to feel like a robot in order to balance out the vibrant and totally alive version of me yesterday. I don't think I "have" to feel this way, though. I just do. And that's okay, so long as Robot Meg doesn't stay too long. I don't even want her to visit, necessarily. She can stop by and stand on the welcome mat for a few minutes, but that's it. I do not want any robots to feel too comfortable in whatever house this is that I occupy.

Ways to say goodbye to Robot Meg:
*Eat. I mean, come on. It's almost an instantaneous way to shoo any and all robots. You've tried it before and it worked marvelously. Keep trying it.
*Sleep. Copy/paste what I wrote about eating here.
*Stay hydrated. Go drink a glass of water. Now. Like, right now now. Not in-five-minutes now. Good job.
*Don't forget how vital it is for you to remain connected to and in awe of nature.
*In-person contact with persons, preferably persons you enjoy being around. Be around people. Occasionally. Hermits sometimes take on the shape of robots, FYI.

FYI, I gotta get back outside. My bones call for it. Thanks for listening.

oui

I believe burgers turn me manic. Or at least the hamburger I had today (!!!) seems to have had a strange and mostly welcome effect on my mood and body. I guess that's what food does. Food kinda, you know, gives us fuel. Who knew? Apparently I didn't for 15+ years. Has it been 15 years since I first failed to remember the purpose of food? Longer? I am going to go ahead and say longer. I'm older than I realize. There have been a lot of realizations happening in my life lately, no? Yes.

Yes. Yes is a word and an action I will start saying and doing more of now. Mostly because I need to balance out all of the nos I've allowed to pile up in my life. (I guess if there's clutter, I should discard instead of balance... But maybe the yeses are housekeepers of my life? Imagine whatever I am writing right now makes sense. You'll be doing both of us a favor.)

I will say YES to the following:

*Food. Just any and all food right now. I cannot place restrictions or limits on my food choices right now until I have developed a healthy relationship to food. I have to put a stop to the food police -- in fact, it would be best if I just shut down the entire food police department. Can one seemingly quiet girl take down an entire institution? Yes. Just watch me.

*Travel. I didn't quite grasp how much of a grasp my eating disorder had on me and virtually every decision in my life I made until very recently. Bummer. It has prevented me from taking chances, from being spontaneous, from going and seeing and doing and, well, living. I ask myself what I would do if I didn't have an ED and one of the first things I think of is travel. Travel to places that might not have a Planet Fitness, places that might have rich, decadent dishes, places that might (and should) shake up my schedule and throw me headfirst into new situations. So yes, buy me that train ticket and get me outta town and outta this suffocating comfort zone.

*Relationships. Now let me be clear that I'm not talking exclusively of romantic relationships. In fact, at this point I'd rather develop strong, solid friendships before I jump into that blackhole world of dating. No longer will I isolate myself in a rigid world of pointless rituals and harmful habits. Humans need interaction with other humans in order to, well, survive. And I'm totally all about surviving these days.

OKAY! MUST GO OUTSIDE! I end every post in a panic about getting outside. I realize this. I will also not apologize for this.

<3