from 2D to 3D

This has been a funny week. I've taken to calling it media week because somehow in my life and the lives of those around me - the media has totally taken over. I've already shared about how I was going to do a little "how-to" segment for my cousin's company for a division of HGTV - that was today. Aside from having to make my way through the world's largest convention center with a tub full of water sloshing about and forgetting my powder (I think the most key piece of makeup when you're going to be filmed!) it went really well. I have a feeling they'll just show my hands and me making the kit, and then do their own voice over based on the info I provided. Either way - it should be a great thing for the company and it was fun to be a part of (and made me feel better about this really cute sweater I bought with Addy this weekend - it was perfect for my t.v. debut!).

Before I left this morning, I got an email from Allan telling me about his most recent press - a t.v. spot that I assume was filmed for a show in London. You can see it on his website here - there's a few pics of us in Montreal and surfing (though none of my videos made the cut).

Then after the convention I went to a board meeting for a non-profit a friend started, and I got to see the hard copy of a newspaper article featuring the organization that was published yesterday. I'd seen the online version - but the print version was amazing - her picture was on the front cover, and the organization (Ripple Kids) had a huge spread in the "Life" section.

Also - this Friday night I'm going to a t.v. show taping with Addy who went to university with John Ritter's son Josh, so we're going to sit in the audience for a taping of his new show, which should be fun.

Right now I'm having a little vegging out time after a crazy day and watching the final episodes of Sex and the City. I had my first big cry watching Carrie say goodbye to her girls before she moves to Paris with the Russian. I know moving is going to be hard - I'm putting it outside of my thoughts so I can focus on this time off for what it is. But every once in awhile it catches up with me and all I can do is give myself a moment to let it sink in, before I push it off again in order to get ready for it. Holy shit this is going to be hard.*




*This post did not end where it started...but I suppose sometimes you just gotta go with it...

when the universe conspires for you

So today is day 1 of the rest of my life. I got up this morning, said goodbye to one of my bestest friends who spent the weekend with me (and what fun we had!) and headed to a doctor's appointment to get stocked up on various prescriptions and antibiotics (one set for a sinus infection I've just come down with, and one to have on hand for my trip, per state department recommendations :). Really mundane stuff but all done with a total spring to my step. I got a call from work around 11:15 to answer a few quick questions and then I got to tell them my fun news - I'm going to be filming a mini how-to segment for a new product my cousin has developed at a major craft convention taking place nearby tomorrow.

Here's how it happened - I went to the convention yesterday with my friend and met another cousin there who is doing some PR for these craft kits my other cousin has developed. We stumbled upon a booth that was doing demos of silver clay (this stuff is the absolute COOLEST - if I hadn't just dropped off my memory card to hopefully be recovered I'd show you a picture of the necklace I made!) and in the middle of making this little pendant a t.v. crew that was covering the show for a division of HGTV came by with their host. They sat him down right next to me and gave him my work materials so he could look like he was doing something while they filmed the sign-off for his segment. This left me just sitting there, which made me feel more or less useless in the shot, so I got up and let the representative for the silver clay sit down so she could instruct him.

In the meantime, this led me to be standing back next to the producer and the camera people - and it occurred to me I should ask them if they were still looking for products to feature, because I happened to have a "museable" there in my bag. They were, I gave them the kit - one thing led to another and we'll be filming a how-to create a museable segment tomorrow at 3:00! Now it's not as if I have any aspirations to be on t.v. - I just think it's neat that the very fact I no longer have a job is allowing me to follow through on this for my cousin - and hopefully give her product more exposure to the world (it will air in May and we'll keep our fingers crossed that our super cool product which includes film that disappears instantly in water - seriously cool - will make it on the show).

On top of that, I finally have a few days to focus on some materials for a business idea I've had for a long time and have a friend who is actually excited about working on it with me. Oh the absolute joy of being able to focus your attention on the things that matter to you! I'm not trying to gloat - I'm really just trying to embrace these moments (hopefully the first of many) for what they are - glimses of life as I'd like to live it - where opportunities can be embraced as they come up, and ideas followed through on.

So that's that - your comments were starting to make me thing that I'd sent the message I was taking off - I'm not! Just rearranging my life a bit and of course this is one of my favorite spaces to reflect on that. I'm so thankful for the people that read this and share their own thoughts, encouragement and places that they're at along the way - seriously, thank you guys!

sunday sleepiness

Hello blogosphere - it's me Megan, writing for the first time from the confines of my bed on a Sunday night, without the impending doom of my job hanging over my head. Because, you see, I no longer have a job - and I couldn't be happier! Sure, I'm a bit freaked out about stuff like giving up my income, my insurance running out, not knowing when I'll next be paid - but honestly, it's so worth it! Because now on this Sunday night I am going to sleep and thinking only of the possibilities for what I'll do with my day tomorrow - not the hours upon hours which I will sit with my brain in a quasi-vegetative state as I chastise myself for spending too much time on the internet and wishing I were more productive.

I do want to apologize because in the next few weeks I'm going to try and distance myself from the internet for a little bit - not entirely, but I'm going to try and be a bit more purposeful in my online time - using it to follow-up on all the things that have been on hold until this moment - from job opportunities/ideas, to contacting people for research purposes, to trip planning etc. What I'm trying to say is I foresee a bit of a shift in my blogging habits - as blogging becomes a place to share my thoughts from a totally different framework. I have no idea what this means - if I'll post more frequently or less - I just feel like I should explain in case there's a noticeable difference (have I lost anyone?).

I do have a couple of things I'm processing and anxious for some feedback on, so stay tuned this week as the so-called love life comes back into play...

Now this is love

Read the back story here. More on my own dance among the stars next week. For now - I'm enjoying my last Friday at work!

As if hell hath frozen over...

Sometimes I'm just silly. I have this trip ritual that I fall into every time I have major travel coming up which involves assessing my closet and realizing that I have none of the "gear" I need to effectively take on my destination with confidence that I'm prepared for whatever mother nature or the activity gods might throw my way. Seriously, with as much as I have traveled, you'd think I would have the perfect travel purse, walking shoes, easily packable dress outfit and layers at the ready. While I do have some of the essentials that I've picked up over the years, I find myself once again (it's like clockwork), facing the reality that I have no appropriate footwear for this trip. Flip flops won't do (there are venomous snakes!) and I'm just not enough of a tennis shoe person to wear them every day, so I've been seeking out the perfect amphibious slip-on tenny. And then, in a moment of foot-zen the other night while I walked to the beach in my hand-me-down Uggs that are a full size too big, I decided, UGGS! Who wouldn't take sheepskin boots to one of the hottest places on the planet earth?! (Do you see how off-kilter my thought process is?)

But the fever had begun, and for the past 48 hours I have been obsessed with Uggs - convincing myself that as I will be there in the Autumn/winter portion of the KwaZulu Natal cycle, I might come up against some cold weather. And according to the guide books, there's no heating - so it can actually get uncomfortably chilly if you are not prepared. And as I ponder in the back of my mind living in a convent for two months, waking up super early and not being able to leave the living area at night on my own, I started to convince myself that the baby-soft comfort that Uggs might bring (Uggs that actually fit, mind you) could ease some of the unknowns swimming around my head by assuring that even if I'm sleeping with spiders the size of my fist, my feet will be living the good life.

And then, after purchasing said Uggs in a fit of shoppers frenzy as I realized once I started looking how hard they are to find in the exact color/height/size combo you would like (but there were three pairs left on Zappos!), I gently reminded myself YOU ARE GOING TO AFRICA TO HELP FEED BABIES WHO HAVE BEEN ORPHANED. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WOMAN STOP OBSESSING ABOUT SHOES. And thus the mental preparation begins.

cha-cha-changes

Yesterday I sent out a "save the date" email for the last Friday night before I leave for South Africa. While it's not for a few months (just under two), I wanted to make sure to give everyone plenty of notice because calendars fill up fast and this is a night where I really want all of my nearest and dearest to be just that, near and dear.

I started crying before I finished the email, because though I'm more excited than I can express, at the end of the six weeks I am granting myself off of work before embarking on my trip, I will be moving. Shifting the life I've built here for over eight years is something I have no way to know how to do - and the reality hasn't really set in, but it's starting to.

I've touched on my history with moving - a move following my freshman year of high school was incredibly traumatic as it separated me from my childhood home (which I am only in the past few years starting to feel like I've reclaimed, and to which I plan to return to by next Fall). This move is different as I am choosing to do it - but that means that there's a level of guilt I can apply to no one but myself. Why can't I feel at home here? Or is it ok that I feel at home here but I still desire to make a home elsewhere as well?

My friends are being incredible. They've listened to me agonize over the decisions that have brought me to this place, and now they're listening to me question those decisions and mull over all the things that could go wrong, or might have a flaw in their rationale. They're reminding me that nothing is permanent, that no decision like this is ever final if you discover that it was the wrong one, all the while assuring me that I am, in fact, doing the right thing for me. And even those who in the past held me back (though not on purpose) are sending me off with their blessing. I got an email from my ex today (in respond to the save the date) telling me he was very, very proud of me, that he knew I needed to travel and share my spirit, and that he loved me. To have someone who I was once so committed to that I came back here and stayed for years longer than I ever intended to, acknowledge why this is so important to me, was amazing.

So five full days of work to go, three this week and then a distant two after I use the remainder of my vacation time. I'm treating Friday as my last day - and as excited as I am, I know that leaving my office at the end of the day will bring a wave of emotion and a sense that this is really it, I am out on the ledge and all the choices I've made in recent months have brought me to this brand new, nameless point. Although I suppose it's not nameless - as my very soul recognizes it as "hope."

I've been memed

But I'm not sure I can rival either Zura or Sadia's responses. Plus, I am a HORRIBLE liar. Thank God I've never done anything that truly warrants a life-or-death lie because I'd never pull it off.

Here goes nothing (really, I'm just not very good at these, they make me feel very uncreative!) - three truths and a lie. Can you tell which one is a non-truth?

1) I once had an entire United airlines flight held for me because I was held up in customs due to a suspicious substance found in my bag.
2) I was once evacuated during a tsunami warning in Eastern Russia.
3) I cut off the tip of my finger doing a knife sales demonstration once.
4) I received further injury to my hand when an ocelot bit me in Costa Rica.

I greatly fear meme'ing someone who'd rather not be memed so I invite anyone who would like to carry this meme on to do so in the comments or at your own blogs!

stages

I started this blog to chronicle my first real foray into dating after earning the label of "serial monogamist" at much too young an age. Now, with about 18 months of single time to my credit, I have lost track of where I'm at in all of this. For a long time I was aware of the stages you go through coming out of a long term relationship. From the grief, the disbelief, the looking for distractions, the rebounding, the self-doubt, the rehashing of every little thing to make sure that there wasn't something you could have done to make it better. Then the freedom starts to set in, but it's a slow process as you detach yourself from the dysfunction, from the patterns that you had fallen into and now see for what they were - protection mechanisms, scape goats. So you find yourself in the stage of unlearning such things, of looking at life and situations and relationships with a fresh eye, a new perspective. As I went through these stages I was always somewhat aware of where I was at - why I was doing what I was doing. I tried to give myself free reign to simply be, to explore things and to allow myself to think/feel/dream in ways I had stopped doing with a dysfunctional relationship at the helm of my life.

At this point I think I've made it through the stages associated with recovering from a break up. Trouble is, I don't really know where that leaves me. Does that mean I'm 100% ready for whatever comes my way? I know I have claimed (or at least alluded to) this in recent posts, but when the situation presents itself, how do I know I won't drag all the baggage I think I've stored away (or unpacked, if you will) out and onto the table with someone new? How to catch myself from making the same mistakes - and how do I know when I'm really ready, and perhaps more importantly, when the situation is right?

...you answer

We joined him at the last available table in the place. I couldn't figure out if he was alone, or simply sitting out a few dances and waiting for a girlfriend to return. After a few drinks it was clear he was on his own, though he looked totally at ease and appeared to be enjoying himself. After awhile we started to chat, and though with the music and the noise of the bar I couldn't discern from where, I realized there was a bit of an accent making its way into our conversation. I asked him where he was from, "just outside Paris," he responded.

The night wore on - we danced, as a group at first, then bit by bit just the two of us. He brushed my hand, my hip - held the base of my back and moved with me. He met my smile with bright blue eyes time and time again.

We went outside for awhile to get some fresh air, sitting face to face on stools, my hands in his to keep warm as we talked. And even more than the air of romance, there was fun. Giggles and coyness and not wanting the night to end.

The lights came on, the music ended. We left the floor to walk, hand in hand, in Paris' shadow.

when Paris comes calling...

There's something drippingly romantic about meeting someone while traveling and sharing, if only for a night, the wonder of a foreign place and all its intimacies with someone who is as new to you as the soil upon which you walk.

Somehow, meeting someone at home while out on the town rarely has that same spark - nor does the moon shine just so in their eyes' reflection, or the sand feel quite as soft as when you walked hand in hand on the coast of the Mediterranean.

Still, my wandering heart is humbled from time to time when a bit of such magic falls into my lap in moments when least expected...

Me and my homegirls

I have a decade or so history with nuns. I'm not Catholic, but in high school I took a flying leap away from public school (not because I wasn't happy with the education, but because I wasn't happy with how crazy middle-school girls could be and needed a fresh start) and started my Catholic education. The school I went to freshman year was run by a traditional Catholic diocese and had a few priests on staff to teach classes they were uniquely qualified to teach, you know, like Human Sexuality*.

My second high school, which came about in a turn of events I briefly touched upon here, was run by nuns. But not just any nuns - no, these were nuns who liked to live on the wild side, meaning years previously they had broken away from their order (the rebels!) and now operated quite autonomously running our dear educational institution. The rumours abounded - but what we did know was that while they maintained the vows of chastity and devotion to God, they appeared to have given up the vow of poverty - as one of them drove an acura sports car, and they were rumored to have a condo in Pebble Beach. Of course these things had been "donated" but suffice it to say, they were a bit outside the confines of traditional habits (not that they weren't dear and devoted to our school, well except the one with the Nike airs who was more or less terrifying).

Anyway, I have no idea how traditional nuns should act - and perhaps traditional nuns don't exist anymore. Either way - I was delighted to get copied on this email from Sr. H, the main social worker The Africa Project is working with in Nkandla, and who will be hosting me when I go.

(the email was to our the TAP Director who is helping me arrange my trip):

"My best friend

I wanted all the time to say happy New but I could not, please take it as if it 23h59 Dec 2006 and you hear Sr H saying Happy New Debbie.

It seems I am always in conflict with time, as a result I leave it as it is.

What I am happy about is that Megan arrives in R'Bay so I do not need someone to collect her for me. I will do it myself. Tell her that she will see a Young Beautiful Nun and she will know that it is Me.

Goodbye.

Sr H."

I think I could learn a lot from a nun with a sense of humor in the middle of South Africa!



*I loved my teacher for this class, Father Malo, but I was reprimanded (and I think my parents called) when I challenged him once in class when he responded to a kid's question about whether a man who'd had a sex change could have a baby. Father Malo's response was, "I don't see why not?" I almost fell out of my chair I was so quick to raise my hand and ask him, increduously, to "THINK ABOUT IT." I don't think he appreciated my tone. But thank God for public school sex ed - if I'd waited until high school to learn about the birds and the bees from the likes of Father Malo I'd probably have a son of my own expecting his first child by now.

lifted

So I realize I owe the final installment of my last dating defuncto - but to be honest, I haven't really felt like dwelling on it. While I want to document this one little piece of my dating repertoire and offer a resolution to those that stop by to see how my so-called love life is going, I think if I spend too much time reflecting on it it will denote that it was somehow a bigger deal than it was.

I love that I have this blog to chronicle this process - because it really forces me to see how I am approaching things and realize when I've, perhaps, actually taken a step forward. I think this was a pivotal experience in that process - because as excited as I was to be potentially "dating" someone who on paper had so many of the things that make me tick - when it didn't work out I didn't enter the "I'm never going to find someone!" death spiral I've been known to dive into in the past.

So, since I don't feel like dwelling - the quick recap: We had a great date two comprised of a yummy brunch, a visit to his place to check movie times and hear him play Claire de Lune on his new piano which, I admit, made me SWOON, and then a trip to see 'The Pursuit of Happyness.' The movie inspired my post on whether to hand hold or not - and looking back I realize that given the circumstances, that would have been premature. In a typical dating situation, it wouldn't have been a big deal - but he'd told me when he asked me out that he'd very recently gotten out of a relationship, and he wasn't sure he was ready to date yet - but he wanted to get to know me. Of course how he ended the first date (by emphatically declaring it an official date) led me to focus less on the nature of the situation, and more on my hopes that something would work out. Still, by the end of the second date, I could tell he wasn't ready. I envisioned his mindset (one I'm extremely familiar with from my own breakup and subsequent foray into dating) - "I could hold her hand, but I haven't held anyone else's hand but the ex's in so long, that's the hand I know how to hold - that's the hand I want to hold." He dropped me off and we chatted for a bit, and we made tentative plans to hang out in the next few days since I'd be leaving for Christmas soon. The plans didn't end up working out - and he told me to call when I was back in town so we could get together after the first of the year.

I was pretty sure that when I got back from the holidays we weren't going to pick up where we left off. But even with that insight, I wanted closure - I wanted explanation since he was the one to initiate everything in he first place. So when I got back I sent him a message, told him about my Christmas and asked where we left things off and where he was at. We'd talked openly about his last relationship so it was a comfortable question, and I wasn't surprised in the least when he told me he'd hung out with the ex over Christmas and he'd realized he wasn't ready to give up on things yet. Even though he'd told me the opposite when we first went out - rather than be upset, I was honestly more relieved to realize that I was no longer at that point myself. It's so exhausting to have someone in your life that you love, that you've shared something so intense with - but for some reason or other you can't make it work. But you can't give up - so you try new tactics, you "work" on things - and maybe in a few circumstances the stars align and it works out - but for the most part, I think it's just a really long, drawn out breakup. I've been there, and I feel for him more than anything because I know he wants to be over it, but he's not.

So that's the end of that story - another experience on the proverbial road to love - a moment to collect myself and realize that I could come across a hundred fantastic guys and none of them may be the right one for me - and that's cool. Because I'm happy where I'm at, happy with who I am, and starting to really enjoy the ride - no matter lies in store.

muzac for montrealers

Hey - I know at least a few of the folks who grace my site each day are in Montreal. Well, my favorite singer isn't touring in my neck of the woods anytime soon - but she will be in YOUR lovely city in a few weeks. I will, in turn, be jealous.

Sara Bareilles with Brett Dennen
02/04/07
Green Room
5386 St. LaurentMontreal, QC
H2T 1S1Canada

This is her website. She blows her recorded stuff out of the water live - don't miss it!

throw back to the 50's

I'm starting to get a few Christmas pics from everyone who didn't have so much champagne that they erased their memory cards at the end of the night.

My family has started a new tradition where the younger generation prepares a multi-course Christmas dinner and serves it to the older generation. This was the second year of said tradition and we had a blast preparing everything - especially with Andrew Bird's "Fake Palindromes" playing in the back ground. If you haven't heard that song - look it up - it's a great soundtrack for food prep. My contribution was a dessert salad course - it's yummy, you should try it:

Layer some:
Arugula leaves
Thinly sliced fennel
Sliced Avocado
De-skinned and sliced grapefruit

To drizzle on top:
Mix Fresh squeezed OJ, Lemon juice, Olive Oil, White wine vinegar and pepper.

I'm not a food blogger so I'm not going to give you any measurements or instructions (plus I don't know the measurements as I lost the recipe and faked it this year - hope I didn't leave anything out!).

Also - if you are dying to have an apron like this of your very own, a family friend of ours makes them - you can find them here.

On the brink

I was just reading my best friend's brothers blog where he detailed his six month plan that includes a hell of a lot of travel and I thought to myself, "why am I writing about how I can't go to sleep at night when I'm about to turn my life topsy turvy and flee the country?" Point being - things are about to get exciting for me.

I have 12 full days of work left. I am more or less done on the 26th, but then I take a wee "vacation" and come back the 14th/15th of February to clean out my office and tie up any loose ends with my replacement. The time period between the 26th and the 18th of March is somewhat up in the air - but I do know this:

1) There will be some skiing which will coincide with a trip to Colorado and Texas
2) There will be the most surfing yet (unless global warming results in Cali being struck by monsoons)
3) There will be even more soul searching
4) There will be a lot of organizing - from my email account where I forward every future possibility or contact with whom I need to follow up with re: career moves, to my room and potentially preparing to move.
5) There will be preparing for South Africa - for which I depart on March 18th and return June 8th.

What have I done so far? Well I have a stack of African literature by my bed, I have zulu CDs to listen to on my way to the beach next month. I have a list of items to purchase (a nalgene and water purification tablets being near the top). I have an appointment to get a small dose of yellow fever and an updated tetanus shot tomorrow. I have a new digital camera on the way from the folks at Amazon. I have an appointment to call the nuns I will be staying with in Nkandla this weekend. I am researching a self defense class that my dear friend Lia insists I take before I go.

What do I still need to do? Plan my trip! I have done some basic planning and I have a detailed map of the country on the way from Amazon as well. I have a list of contacts and organizations I may want to meet up with - and a few potential traveler partners that may come to explore with me in April (speak now, or forever hold your peace!). I also need to line up travel insurance, order medications etc. in advance, get my budget and bills in order, etc. etc. And of course - start a trip-specific blog so I don't have to subject everyone and their mother to this here piece of work. I'm also trying to decide if I should get a new lap top (a small one) to take with. I know I'm going to want to write while I'm there and I much prefer typing - but I don't know logistically if a lap top is going to be a good travel companion for this trip.

Either way - it's so damn exciting I can barely contain myself. I think I've been waiting to write about it until it became more real - and it occurred to me - time's up. It's on the horizon - it's coming, whether I'm 100% ready or not. In just a little over two months I'll be on a dusty road, sitting alongside a nun, driving into a little village in Kwa Zulu Natal and attempting to take it all in.

A bureaucrat's bedtime

Last night I got in bed around 10:30 (later than I should have - I'm still trying to stock up on sleep to fight whatever lingering cold germs are lying around) and listened to music. I've been having a lot of trouble falling asleep lately - it's taking and hour or more when I go to bed at a reasonable hour. Of course if I go to bed around midnight, I can drift right off - but that doesn't really mesh well with my 6:00 a.m. wake up (which then gets pushed to 6:15, 6:30, a shower, back to bed for 15 minutes (the only thing that gets me to get out of the shower - the promise of my pillow), frantic bathroom time and a cobbled together lunch before sluggishly dragging myself to the car and making my way to work...late). As much as I'd like to be able to get by with six hours of sleep, I can't.

I'm in between books at the moment and also haven't yet replaced my bedside table light bulb (this is the kind of thing about myself that drives me crazy. It's an Ikea light - so it needs a special Ikea bulb, but you really need to be in a certain mindset to take on Ikea. I haven't been in that zone in quite some time, so the burnt out bulb sits on my catchall, gathering dust, and I remain in the dark). Though reading is sometimes a good tool for easing myself into a dreamstate, right now it requires getting out of bed to turn off the room's main light - which wakes me right up.

Last night I tried music - and while it didn't put me to sleep (ipod head phones are not actually all that comfortable when lying on your side) it was a nice way to end the day. I listened to a bunch of Sufjan Stevens and fell into my favorite prayer, "help me help me help me help me." In her book Traveling Mercies, Anne Lamott says her prayers go one of two ways, "help me help me help me help me" -or- "thank you thank you thank you thank you." That's my faith more or less summed up to a tee (or should it be 'T'?).

I know there are a number of reasons why I can't fall asleep when I want to - but yesterday one of them was the impending doom of the next day, and facing all the things I'd failed to do in the sun cycle coming to a close. After a truly frustrating day at work and a bout of procrastination and intimidating paperwork with no end in sight, it was kind of all I could do to throw it out there and ask for help.

Sometimes I forget that I face these paralyzing limitations of self for that very reason, so that I know no matter what, I'm never going to be able to do it on my own. I forget that when I've exhausted my own avenues for help I can throw that prayer out there, and somehow know it's going to get done.

When I finally turned off the music and felt my body settle into the moments before the inevitability of sleep, I had what I needed to get me out of bed in the morning, and take it all on again.

I did it

I switched to the new blogger. Am I the last to do so? I don't really know what it means, I did it on an impulse because the little notes blogger posts every time I sign on finally eased my concerns that something was going to happen in the switch. I hate getting used to new formats so we'll see how long it takes me to adjust.

Aside from that, I am having the worst case of procrastination I've had in, well, just about ever (at least at work). If anyone has any tips for overcoming such a bear, let me know!

Hey hey I'm a monkey!

But 2007 is not. No, 2007 is a year of the pig - and not just any pig, it's the year of the GOLDEN pig. So get your wheels in motion, because according to the Chinese (and Korean) calendar - this is a FANTASTIC year to fall in love - and if you've been there, done that - then by all means - make a baby!

Lest you doubt the significance of this opportunity, a Golden Pig Year only comes once every 600 years. How do I know this? I spent last night catching up with my wise friend Hye, who un-married (though happily co-habitating) and pushing forty is challenging every social norm held in her Korean family - and is being urged to get married once and for all this GOLDEN PIG year. Further, the future mother-in-law wouldn't mind a grandchild - and if that's in the works - then why not make it a golden-pig baby?

For anyone else contemplating such life decisions, you can get your own Korean calendar with a "friendly fatty in the Korean subconscious" here.



*I should probably stay away from pigs in my search for love - according to this Pig + Monkey in love (I think my imagination just exploded) have the undesirable affect of heightended sexual tension due to a constant need to disagree. But wait, isn't sexual tension sometimes a good thing?

a slight digression: my boobs made me do it

So date one was a great one (and I'm a poet, don't I know it?). Now, to figure out date two. I'd proposed surfing - only afterwards stopping to realize that that meant a) seeing me in a bathing suit and b) seeing me in all my surfing glory - namely ratty hair and not a smidge of makeup to accentuate the eyelashes. This wouldn't normally bother me, except this guy is a triathalete, and I'm, well, not. But no matter - surfing would be fun, so that's what we planned. Before that, however, I stopped by where he plays on Friday nights with my friend Ricky who'd taken me to his office Christmas party that night. The date had learned a new song by a guy I'd recommended which I wanted to hear (even though he'd told me he'd play it for me "anytime") and I knew I wouldn't be able to see him play again before the new year as I was leaving town shortly. To offer some insight into my neuroses, allow me to go off on a tangent about the outfit I wore that night.

A few years ago I splurged and bought a gorgeous silk skirt, top and cashmere sweater for a cousin's wedding. Let's just say while my mother has had not one, but TWO breast reductions, that while I inherited her shoulders, muscular frame and emotional issues - I didn't inherit anything by way of her boobs. I've worn this shirt maybe three times since I bought it, because while I fell in love with its pretty lace and beaded, scalloped neckline - I've got little to back it up and I end up looking, well, deflated.

Allow me to introduce my "very sexy" bra from Victoria Secret:

*(yes, this is a star, denoting a note at the end)

While I can't really believe I'm posting about this and actually posting a picture - I assure you I only do so because MY BOOBS HAVE NEVER LOOKED LIKE THIS, EVER (also my parents leave on a month long trip today and I'm hoping that they miss this post) - and it's all thanks to this bra. So, in a fit of "if you've got them, flaunt them" (which I have only said once, and it was this night while wearing this bra with this shirt), I decided to give my pricey purchase a little more time out of the closet, and wore it to the Christmas party.

Did I mention that I rarely have cleavage to deal with? You can ask Ricky - I was WILDLY uncomfortable (and not much in the conversation department, as more or less everything I said ended with, "have you seen my boobs!?!). I think I checked out my own chest more than any body else did - given that boobs to anyone else aren't really any thing new - but boobs to me, ON me, are TOTALLY NEW.

This tangent resolves here - I almost didn't stop by to see the date play because I was so self conscious. Now most girls (this is probably why I'm single) would see this as a prime opportunity to flaunt the goods. Not me. Not with someone I actually liked (who is getting a masters in Theology, I should mention). I didn't want to come across slutty - or anything other than my normal self, and this shirt - well it's not my normal self. So while we stopped by, and he played the song (I loved it), I spent the entire time talking to him with my hands up and clasped next to my cheek, attempting to disguise the boobs on their first night out. It drove Ricky crazy.

*I realize there's some weird crease action here - what can I say, small boobs were not meant to be propped up in such ways. I think it's mainly because of my lean though - lack of cleavage aside, this bra is SERIOUSLY amazing.

(What can I say? Blogging, in addition to being therapeutic, is a great place to wear the shirts you're too reserved to wear again in public!)

Hi Mom!

The only thing that could delight me more than checking my blog on Saturday afternoon and finding new comments, is finding one from my mom. You see, my mom is not what we would call "internet savvy." She has a snazzy little mac all of her own, but she still asks me to check her email for her every time I'm home. In case you missed her comment in my previous post, here it is (with my thoughts in parentheses/caps):

"Megs, I can't believe I'm doing this (YOU CAN'T BELIEVE IT? I ALMOST FELL OUT OF MY CHAIR!). We just hooked up my new flat screen monitor (SOUNDS LIKE YOU ARE COMING UP IN THE TECHNOLOGY WORLD MOMSY) and your Dad suggested I read your blog (POOR GUY, HE'S HAD TO DEAL WITH HIS DAUGHTER SHARING HER LOVE LIFE ALL OVER THE INTERNET ALL ON HIS OWN FOR MONTHS). Who are all these people who send you comments (LOVELY SOULS AROUND THE WORLD, THE VAST MAJORITY IN CANADA FOR SOME REASON)? Who is Degrassi (YOU'RE TOO CUTE MOMSY)? What is this world coming too (YOU COULD START A BLOG ABOUT THAT VERY QUESTION)? Zicam is the best for curing a cold........I just took the cure and feel much better (STARTING TO FEEL BETTER MYSELF). Love, Mom (AND I LOVE YOU MOMSY).

Isn't she darling?

I'm not sure I can quite explain this blogging business to my mom, but I will try, during our next conversation because knowing her, the next time she'll check this will be four weeks from now (about the frequency with which she checks her email).

So there you have it, lest you should wonder why I avoid any of the more "juicy" details in my posts, now you know - both my parents (now) read my blog.

Off to pick up some Zicam...mother always knows best.

sick...

...is what I am. A cold like I haven't had since the last time I had a cold, I suppose. I stayed home yesterday, watched at least 7 episodes of The Office, napped, ate a lot more than a sick person probably should (why is it that when everyone else gets sick they lose their appetite, and when I'm sick, it just grows?) and finally unpacked from Christmas. My room now has a number of new framed pictures of my ever growing family, a pile of African literature alongside my Zulu language cds and a hoard of toblerone wrappers in the trash from the world's largest box of toblerones one of my cousins gave me.

I'm off to house sit this weekend, which usually means a lot of time in the sun and some surfing, but this particular weekend will probably mean a lot of time in bed and indulging in my guilty pleasure - DeGrassi: The Next Generation. To all you Canadians who read this blog - please withhold judgment and rely on the deeper side of me I share with you by way of this blog to balance out the fact that I would willingly watch episode after episode of DeGrassi on a Saturday afternoon, sick or not. At least this weekend I have a good excuse.

Que todos tengan un buen fin de semana!

butterfly migration

Oh that I might one day actually learn how to step cautiously in the game of love. I held back on sharing about the last suitor that came up because I did what I always do, I got excited, and I told myself I wouldn't jinx it, and then, well, reality set in. The thing is, it had a lovely start. We had been trading music recommendations for awhile (I've been going to see him play for a couple of years in a local restaurant on Friday or Saturday nights from time to time), and at some point our messages (I tell ya, myspace is worth its billions) began to indicate there was a level of intrigue that extended to the individual, not just the music taste, and he asked me out. But since a happily ever after doesn't appear to be too forthcoming in my life, there was a catch. He'd recently gotten out of a relationship, and wanted to be careful. While the main breakup had happened last summer, they'd briefly reconnected this fall, and had broken up for good only about 3 weeks before. So after we saw each other briefly at a show he had encouraged me to attend, he wrote me honestly expressing his interest, but also his hesitance to jump into dating full on. His honesty was extremely refreshing, and I wrote back and told him a bit about where I was at - that I've been single for over a year now, that I'd dabbled in dating but wasn't very good at it, and would love to get to know each other in whatever way he was most comfortable.

We threw around some non-date but date-like ideas and settled on going to look at Christmas lights a couple of weeks before Christmas. At this point we'd been coming across each other for a number of years when I've gone to see him play - we've exchanged very minor pleasantries from time to time as I've requested songs or chided him for not knowing any by my favorite band (aside from that our musical tastes are almost spot on) and had one slightly more significant interaction when he and my roommate almost went out a couple of years ago. So it was funny to see this guy I'm used to watching over a glass of sparkling wine or a mojito arrive at my house, open the door for me as I got into his truck, and trundle off in search of festive lights.

It was a lovely date. I say date, because when he left at the end of the night, he said, "this was a date, wasn't it?" as if he was kind of tickled by how well it had gone, regardless of how cautious he was trying to be. We'd spent time discussing where he was at, where I was at, and everything in between - including two of the so-called untouchables, politics and religion. He sent me a note the next day saying how much fun he'd had, and how he thought it was really impressive we'd covered both bases and not ended up wanting to strangle each other in the end (even though we initially come from different viewpoints we found a lot of middle ground). I was, as I am prone to be when confronted with someone who gets my brain going like that and is cute to boot, on cloud nine.

resolve

One of the hardest parts about growing up for me has been reconciling what I thought adulthood was all about, to what it's really all about. In most ways, I don't think I really know. I simply haven't experienced enough to know I am approaching things with the wisdom of a grown up, rather than the ideology that youth so carefully caters to. Somehow in the scheme of things I have been graced with tremendous exceptions to many of life's greatest challenges. Some of these exceptions are guaranteed to expire at some point, especially the one that is most foreign and scary to me, the loss of a loved one. Others, like financial security, could hold - but with absolutely no promises. If I know anything it's that NONE of us are immune to the bottom falling out from under us in one way or another (even if we don't really believe it deep down - it happens).

While I have said I have no clear vision of my future - no clearly outlined and colored in image of a house and career and happy - it doesn't mean I'm not exceedingly future-focused. Rather, instead of seeing that final end product, I focus instead on the steps that will take me to that far off place called 'content' by always having something in the works to take me a step forward. If what I'm doing right now does not contribute to a life in which I can know I am doing what I believe I was somehow designed to do (namely live a life that recognizes the inter connectedness of our world and how my actions can contribute to the wellbeing of it all rather than the further fragmentation of people and places as a whole),* then I need to know that whatever comes next is going to do so.

I 'resolved' sometime in the last year (though not in correspondence with New Years 2006) to do better at living in the moment. To recognize the experiences I was having, the choices I had made for what they were - steps towards the future, yes, but also life RIGHT NOW. I think I have done this. I have been conscious of making choices that embrace opportunities, of taking chances, of challenging myself. I have been aware when I've slacked on this and I'm learning to make better choices. Of course no process is ever complete, but I feel like I've made a good start. So if I have any resolution for 2007 (besides being a better thank you note writer) it is to take this one step further. To let this be a year where my reliance on ideas about what will propel me forward will turn into a reliance on actions instead. I have a sense that this is going to be a year of really growing up - a year of confronting things I know are out in the world but haven't seen face to face in the way I am about to. I know Africa will play a huge role in this and even as I plan the trip and introduce myself to the opportunity, I know I am ultimately wholly unprepared for what will find me there. I actually woke up on New Year's Day with a palpable sense of grief and an unexplainable understanding that even as I dream on the fantastic adventures I am about to embark on and all the exciting unkowns, that this may also be a year of loss in one way or another. If this is the case, I hope that I can embrace whatever I confront with the knowledge that this is life being lived - that it's all a part of the bigger picture, that this is making me into a more complete and capable human being. And perhaps most importantly, reminding me that though MY world revolves around me, the rest of the world doesn't. It is out there, it is vibrant, it is heart breaking and it is about all of us as a whole. I'm trying to figure out what role I play in it all but I think 2007 is going to be a year of learning much more from others and the world itself than from myself and my own individual steps. For this reason, that sense of grief is actually something I can accept because it makes me feel like I'm taking a small step outside of myself, and perhaps that's what growing up is really all about.

2007 is here. I am here, I'm about to be somewhere else. I'm not sure I know where either spot really is, but I know that at least in the little corner of the philosophical universe I was born into, I'm living life the best way I know how, and perhaps that is actually life as it is meant to be lived.



*Please take with a grain of salt, this being a just a few seconds worth of attempting to summarize my entire life philosophy.

back, but not yet with it

It must be said - Happy New Year! I rang out 2006 with some of my absolute favorite people (will post a few pics when I receive them as my reformatted card is still being held hostage and picture free until I can send it in for the photo gods to smile upon and restore my Christmas pics). My mom, brother and two nephews and three of my best friends (and one boyfriend) were in the mountains all weekend. There were even some cameo appearances by my roommate and her boyfriend who were staying in nearby Tahoe - so it was truly a convergence of friends from every chapter of my life. I hadn't been to the mountains in about three years and as we rolled in I was flooded with memories from trips past. Skiing and snowboarding are the only two sports I've ever been any good at - and while I'm not yet good at surfing, they inspire the closest things to the rush I get in the water on dry (em, frozen) land. It was a glorious weekend - time with family, time with friends, moments to ponder the year past and moments to dream about the year to come. I was so thankful for time to wander through conversations with everyone - whether we were talking nonsense and laughing so hard my stomach was as sore as my legs were from the slopes, or delving deeper into the various crossroads we are each at and the opportunities that lay ahead - it was the type of trip that reminds you just why these are the people you share your life with, and how much more you have to look forward to sharing with them as you all grow.

I am woefully out of touch with everyone's blogs and will be catching up on reading in the next couple of days. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday and wish you all the very best in 2007 as we step forward into the new year!