Thursday, December 28, 2006


hi guys...due to the fact that my family is nuts and won't stop trying to destroy my mental health i will be gone for a while.
i don't know where i'm staying so if you want to get ahold of me you'll just have to call my cell phone.

<3 MM

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

I can never call my mother annoying again...

because I am just like her.
I don't know how many times we've said the same thing at the same time (and not anything standard, stuff that I think only we could think of) or have watched a situation unfold, knowing that we were thinking the same thing about what we just saw.

But enough of that schmaltzy crap...I'mma gripe a little now.
She gets up so early. I swear I've been up at like seven every morning since she got here, and today we were up and out by nine, and done shopping by two. What the heck is that?!
I'm used to getting up at eleven, and not doing anything until seven, sometimes ten.

How dare she keep me from being lazy?!

Friday, December 22, 2006


I told a somewhat older friend of mine that I was going to try and self publish a book of my poetry and they said:
"I've read your poetry. I think you should wait until you have some good material before you spend all that money."

Whoa. Burn.

and then they said:
"It's just really obvious that you have no life experience."

I'm never speaking to them again.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

another reason to sleep with one eye (and browser) open...

I gave my friend Travis' myspace a makeover tonight...he'll be so excited when he logs on in the morning and sees it!

Check it out, before he changes something...

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

PS...I Love Me

I think I should ask all my guy friends if I give off that "I'm madly in love with you" vibe everytime they are nice to me.
Well, let's just say that as of late I seem to be misunderstood in that arena.
I hate to say this but...I pretty much am just in love with myself. It's not that I don't have the capacity to love other people (I'm over my robot stage), it's just that I have trouble with the whole being in love thing. And yes, there is a difference. I never thought there was but there really is.

Anyway...I think I deserve it. I mean, I've done the self loathing thing for such a long time and it just hurts...and it's not cute, and it frustrates the crap out of me.

So I guess one of my resolutions for next year will be to love myself as much as I can.

Hey, that's a good one!

Monday, December 18, 2006


The rosary is cold, shocking my hand as it lays in my palm like little pieces of blessed ice.

"Heavenly Father, I can take care of myself you know. You really shouldn't waste your time. You know I'm just gonna do what I wanna do. You can't stop me. Well, yes you can but you shouldn't...I want to live my life.
I want to live it how I want to and I don't care what it says in your damn...forgive me Father, darn book. You didn't even write that book did you?"

Father Callahan raises an eyebrow as he passes me, totally sure I'm doing something or saying something that I shouldn't.

"Why'd you make me Catholic anyway? Don't you know how hard it is to try and follow all these rules? No french kissing? And no fornicating?! I do that all the time!
So I'm going to hell for puttin' my tongue in someone else's mouth. That's like the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life. I hope you know you're gonna be lonely up won't be seein' me or any of my family. See you made a mistake in makin' us Catholic 'cause you also made us Irish. We can't help but sin! We get so damn...sorry Father, darn excited we just can't help it, either that or we get drunk, and know what happens next."

Some sister passes. Which one I don't know...they all look the same to me. She must know I'm not Hail Mary-ing.
I always lose count.

"...and speaking of my family, why me? I mean, they're not that bad I guess but come on! They're all insane. At least you didn't make me as crazy as you made all of them. And also, speaking of dad. What's with him and the booze? Can't you do something about that?I guess he can't die from it but it makes him such an asshole. Oops, sorry again Father. It makes him unpleasant. You should have given me more patience if you wanted me to deal with these people for the rest of my life. But I guess that goes back to the makin' me Irish thing."

I shift, my knees crying out for mercy
"And what the hell were you thinkin' giving me bad knees?!"
Another twinge, worse this time.
"Are you even listening? Are you even there?"

My rosary hasn't warmed.

Saturday, December 16, 2006


Once lying on a different plane
now all the greys cannot contain the night
as the sun moves in
and we go stepping into morning.
Your eyes are more clear now
and although they're only brown
they make me slip and make me fall
I hope that I don't end up broken.
And your voice will dance on the breeze
as you sing through the stillness and around the trees
and I'll hum along though I don't know the words,
content in this perfect place.
The sun comes up higher and it's afternoon
the night will fall again, very soon
I'll have you in the dark again
and we'll both turn into shadows.

Friday, December 15, 2006

Meg = doormat? Not really.

Do you ever just wake up and say:
"I'm not going to try so hard anymore"...and not in a bad way?

I think I try too hard to make people like me, and I've always been pretty sure that it either backfires or opens me up to being treated like a doormat. A recent encounter with a fairly new person in my life confirmed it. They seemed to lean more towards treating me like a doormat, and I just snapped. I let them know that in the grand scheme of things they just weren't that important in my life.

It was good to be honest. To admit to myself that I just didn't care as much as I thought I did. Took a huge load off my chest.
So from now on, if people like me and want to treat me as a friend and human being, I can and will reciprocate. If not, I'll treat them like as much of a pile of shit as they do me. Why the hell should I care anyway? I have my own life to live and enough friends to tide me over for the next thousand years.
I don't need to kiss your ass. Anyone's ass, for that matter.

I am really starting to feel the distance between little Meg and grown up Meg.
I like it.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

sweet to me

i love you
the way you slide into my vein
the way you're so like candy
or by your other name
the way your smoke slides down my throat
snakes through my brain finding lobes to poke
i love you
the way you're cheap and easy
the way you make me sleep
i can't wake up
just hold me
don't shake me awake
i love you
the way you make me useful
the way you make me rush
how i can finish my day in
an hour fueled by your tender touch
i love you
the way you make me run
the way you make me hide
when you're around
i always sweat out all the fears inside
i love you
the way you make me forget
the way you make me pale
they'll never see me crying
i can forget this hell
because you love me back.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Madonna's Ass: a rant

So I was doing my daily Myspace ritual when I saw an ad that said something like "Who's Butt is This?"...the prize, a new Razr phone. The cost, my dignity.

I knew who the ass belonged to.

"That's totally Madonna's ass!" I thought, in the deep dark recesses of my mind. And instantly, I was ashamed of myself.

I hope I'm not one of those people. You know, the kind that watches Entertainment Tonight to hear the latest news about crazy ass Lindsay Lohan and her drunken antics. Or crazy ass Nicole Richie and her driving problems. Or crazy ass Britney Spears and her...vagina.

What about Maya Angelou's vagina?

Wait, that's not what I meant.

I just mean, what about people that matter? What about people that have done some good in the world, or at least tried. Why don't these people get much attention?

Let's take Bono for example.
Why does anyone care what he has to say about poverty, AIDS, etc?
Because he's Bono. Not because of the genius work he's trying to do...but because he's in a band that has kicked major ass for a hella long time.
That's not necessarily a bad thing, at least he's using his celebrity to do something good but...what if he was still just Paul Hewson, a dude from Ireland. An unfamous Irish dude isn't going to get any work done.

Because as a society we have our priorities all wrong. Doing the right thing comes after looking good, being famous, making money and beating everyone else to the punch. Helping other people is just too hard and who the hell cares if a bunch of people an ocean away die of some disease? You know, that money that you spend ordering Manolo Blahnik shoes online could be sent to Africa to feed a village for a month.

Too bad you just HAVE to emulate Sarah Jessica Parker. Too bad you can't just live your own life and be yourself.

What is so bad about being a regular person and doing some good in the world?

Monday, December 11, 2006

Hi, my name is Meg and I'm a masochist *waves*

Last night was a good night.
I won't go into details because I don't know of anyone who would want to know the kind of details I usually have to give.

But it was good nonetheless.

I was finally able to admit something, to myself and to someone else (who is always open minded...thankfully)

I don't want the power that I think I want.
I just want to exist, live my life, be happy.
And sometimes...I crave that feeling of absolute helplessness that comes with being tied down, chained (literally in this case, but it applies in a figurative way as well).
There's just something about not being able to move that makes you face your situation from a new angle. When you can't run or hide and you know it's going to hurt like hell. When you face the pain and realize it's not going to kill you.

Such a feeling of pride when you make it through, still all in one piece.
And it stings.
But it's so good at the same time.
I just love it.

Such is life.

Friday, December 08, 2006


I climbed back into the house through the bedroom window, dreading having to tell my mother where I'd been. I stepped wrong, bringing my foot down on her legs.
"Watch where you're going!" she grumbled, without moving "We are talking about this tomorrow you know."
That is one of the things I hated about our apartment. When we were close it was great, being that there was only one bedroom, one bed, but we were never close that often. Her husband made sure we hated each other and that I was the odd one out. He can say that's not how it was but I know better than that.
Anyway...all I wanted was my own bed.
I think that's one thing everyone deserves. Their own bed to go to when they're sick, when they're fed up, when they want to be alone. When I made her mad or when she made me mad, there was never anywhere to go, I couldn't even dream in peace.
All that night I tossed and turned wondering what she was gonna say, who she was gonna keep me from seeing, where she was going to keep me from going. I dreamed about locks, and chains.
I woke up very early, right when the clock struck five, grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste and climbed back out the window to catch the bus to school. I could have used the front door,but he was there, awake and waiting.
I sat in the back of the bus, and tried to cover my face. My eyes were still bloodshot and throbbing, my lips felt dry, ready to fall right off. I always told myself that I wasn't going to do it anymore, that I was gonna quit, and cold turkey too. I was brave enough, I was ready enough. but everytime I tried, he was there with more.
No one was on campus when I got there at five thirty, but the sun was coming up a little. I found the highest hill on the field we never used for sports and sat down to watch. I never do that anymore, I'm never up that early. Sometimes I miss it, but nowadays there's not many things I care to do by myself. Not like that, it's not the same.
I watched the sun inch it's way into the new day, changing the sky from black, to gray, pink, red, light blue. Not one cloud in the sky that I could see...the higher it rose in the sky, the more I felt triumphant. It rose and rose until it found it's place, the best thing about the sky. It was what I wanted to be. The best, the brightest. I somehow got it into my head that as long as Iwas up to see it I had won.
It perched itself in the blue, and I started to lose the energy I woke up with. My legs stopped waggling, my hands stopped shaking, and I could hear someone coming from behind me.
Some kid. I guess I wasn't who they thought I was...they turned and scampered off, looking embarrassed. I checked my watch.

Seven thirty. The library was open.
If they still had "Howl" it would be a good day.

Thursday, December 07, 2006


"Four Generations"
Drifting by
lazy and placated
letting my hand touch the softness new flowers on the roadside
as the car meanders down the familiar dirt road
some chicken crossing...
isn't that funny?
A day that wouldn't end
and too many around speaking tongues and spitting memories
surrounded by everything I know
I feel the darkness like some familiar dream of death
and somehow i'm alone under the glittering stars
wanting to scream but tasting nothing but silence
on my carnation colored lips...
I don't want to be my mother's mother's mother anymore
the one who never lied and lost her only son
I don't want to paint lines up my legs
I don't want to ration coffee
there's so much to waste now...
Back in the car
waving to those little women old and almost gray
a little more hunched over than before
I don't want to get old...
Drifting by
talking myself back into laziness
letting my hand touch the softness of new flowers on the roadside
back down that same familiar dirt road
some chicken crossing...
to get to the other side I suppose

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

I need the strength to give to someone else...

So, I have this friend who's having a really hard time. And this time, the friend isn't me so don't even go there.

I'm really worried about them...they seem to be at the end of their rope. I know what to say, but it's really important that they listen, and I'm not sure if they're ready or willing to take my advice and hear what I have to say. I'm not sure if they're ready to hear that life is worth living and no matter how many mistakes you've made there is always a way to make things better and a new start around the corner. That there is so much ahead of you in this life, so much that you shouldn't miss.

Our lifespan is as long as it is for a reason...because there are so many things for us to see, so many people for us to meet, and so many opportunities to make our lives what we want them to be.

I just hope and pray that they listen. I hope that they're still here in the morning.

Monday, December 04, 2006

This makes me laugh.

I got an email from someone who kind of knows me but not really, and basically it was just all about how awful I am and why they think I'm a pathetic human being. The whole reason why they emailed me is because they found me on Myspace and started reading my blogs...which according to them were "rubbish" and just further proved their theory that I'm worthless and always have been.
I decided to publicly answer three of their gripes, just so they can feel special. Consider it an early Christmas present.

"You've been loafing for twenty years. Isn't that long enough?"

Loafing? First of all, who even says that anymore? And secondly, could you BE more wrong? I was working and making my own money and contributing to my household when I was 13. I missed over 50 days of school my freshman year because there were some days I just couldn't get off work. At one point, I was the only one out of me, my mother and my stepfather that was making any money...and I still feel bad that I didn't always make enough for rent and food. So excuse the crap out of me for not having a job in the past year.

"You would be almost perfect if you had any self esteem"

Obviously, you don't know me at all. Sure, sometimes I get insecure about whatever the crap doesn't look cute about my body at the time, but to say I have no self esteem is pretty far off. I have to be honest with you...I'd have sex with me.
It has been a long road to personal acceptance for me but believe it or not, I got there. I'm happy with who I am, and I'm happy with my life. Sure, there's stuff I want to do with my life still, and I still wanna lose five pounds but hey, I think that's just a girl thing. It has nothing to do with how I feel about myself. I love myself more than anyone else does.

"You try too hard."

I'll give you this one. But I don't do it for the reasons that you think. I'm not desperate, I just haven't shaken the habit. And alright, I DO want people to like me but being nice is way better than being an asshole. What's that saying about honey and vinegar...something about flies? You know what I mean.

Moral of the story:
They're in love with me but they can't find the words to tell me so they're taking their frustration out on the object of their desire (me). Classic case of projection.

Saturday, December 02, 2006

stupid pictures

Sometimes when I can't sleep and I'm afraid I'll have bad dreams I'll flip through a photo album or two. Pictures of myself when I was small, with my grandparents who were young and didn't smoke as much...and my mom who was younger, and not as hard. I pick the albums that I know only have happy pictures inside, much the same way I pick the side of my brain that only has happy memories.

One stupid picture.
When I saw it, my face got hot and my body got cold and it felt like I had Pop Rocks in my veins. Whizzing through me, fizzling their way towards my heart. And then I laughed.

My uncle. The coolest person I've ever known in my life.
He was the only one in the family that was like me. I know you don't know my family but...sometimes I think fun is not in their vocabulary. No fun, no mistakes, no crying. Suck it up an join the Marines. I love them but they can be such hardasses sometimes. My uncle and I were the only outwardly insecure and emotional members of the family...and now that he's gone all that is left is me.

The picture is of a recliner that has tipped over with us in it.
Did I say recliner? I meant rocketship.

There was this commercial when I was younger that had rocket noises in it, and everytime it came on and I was sitting in his lap, he would put his hands behind my knees, lift me up a little, and lean back in the recliner as far as he could without tipping it over...all the while making more rocket noises ("mine are cooler" he would say).
One day, I guess he leaned back too far.
We weren't hurt, in fact, we both thought it was the funniest thing that had ever happened in our lives...well, it probably was for me since I was like four.
My grandma yelled at my mom for taking the picture instead of helping us up...and then she yelled at us, of course, and told us to never do "that stupid spaceship thing" ever again.

Did we listen?
We never did.

It's been a couple of years since he died, but I'm still not used the fact that he's not going to randomly show up one day to ask if he can crash on our couch for a few days.
I've never missed anyone this bad before.

Will I ever get over this?
Stupid picture.