Tag Archives: life

Life… Or Some Facsimile Thereof

April 23, 2009

The Great Job Hunt of 2009 continues with very little success, but I am not discouraged. Ask me again in another week and my answer may be very different, but for now I’m trying to stay positive.

Despite how boring my life is, I’ve been a bit of an emotional wreck lately. Moving out of Boise has allowed me to get out of some emotional ruts and to actually think about some things that I had blocked out. While I think this is good, it’s also very difficult at times and I often find myself wanting to go buy a bottle of wine and a pack of cigarettes just so I can turn off my mind and block it all out again.

Years ago, as a young teenager, when my depression was in full swing, people used to tell me to “just be happy” and my response (ever the contrarian) was, “I don’t WANT to be happy.” I wasn’t lying. During those years, most of the “happy” that I knew came in plastic bottles with a child-proof lid, and the numbness, the emptiness, of it all terrified me. So instead of popping pills, I spent my teenage years bouncing between rage, inconsollable sorrow, and apathy, and when things got to be too much, I would simply get drunk or cut rather than go on prescription medications.

Now I find a very simple phrase running through my head: Choose Happy. And, more often than not, I do. It’s every bit as hard as I thought it would be. I don’t mean to imply that I am happy all the time, or that I do not experience sorrow or anger, instead it very simply means that I choose to continue to live, and live well.

If you had asked me six months ago whether I thought my life would get better I would have said “No,” unequivocally. I honestly didn’t think I would live this long, and I thought that if I did I would be so far gone by now that one wouldn’t even consider it a life. But I do believe that things will get better. I choose happy.

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You And Me Baby Ain’t Nothing But Mammals

April 18, 2009

I have a problem: I have become excruciatingly boring. Perhaps I always was. After all, I’ve never spent much time cultivating this image. I find that doing simple things like not dressing according to the latest trends, or not being up on the latest gossip, or just being a generally shy and reclusive person tends to make me pretty dull without any real effort on my part to further that image.

My friend James called me today and tried to convince me to “get all dolled up and hit the town” (his words) because he thinks I’m too boring. I have no friends, so instead of “hitting the town” with my ubiquitous, unattached, lusty, twenty-something peers I’m spending a quiet evening out with my middle-aged aunt and uncle and my thirteen-year-old cousin. Perhaps the most appalling part of this is that I’M ACTUALLY ENJOYING MYSELF. Yes, that is the true mark of a boring person.

I kind of thought that if I moved I would automatically become more daring. Ooh, look at me! I moved out of State! I don’t have a job! I’m living dangerously! But the sad reality is that I have very quickly settled into a very dull routine: I spend my days filling out endless applications, dropping off said applications, and wasting my time online. In the evening, I play with my cat, read or watch a movie, go to bed at a fairly reasonable hour (10-11), and get up and do it all over again. I have to force myself to explore different driving routes, not because I’m scared of getting lost, but because in three weeks I’ve become comfortable with the status quo.

As I have mentioned before (here) I am a naturally lazy creature. Yesterday I put on makeup for the first time since I’ve moved (including mascara) and felt that the effort was Herculean enough that it should have merited some sort of public recognition. Like, when my aunt and cousins and I went out to Red Robin in the evening, the staff really ought to have serenaded me with a rollicking and painfully off-key rendition of “I’m Too Sexy”. Instead, they kept singing “Happy Birthday” to all the tables around us, and the MOTHERFUCKING KIDS KEPT POPPING THE MOTHERFUCKING BALLOONS. But I digress. The point is that I consider the day to be a success if I am showered and clothed in something other than sweatpants or unwashed jeans. Makeup is entirely superfluous.

I began this lengthy defense of my boring nature by stating that I have a problem. I have a lot of problems, and really this is probably the one of least import (namely because it prevents my other problems from becoming too excessive), but it’s also a problem I can do something about. As I said, I don’t really care if I’m perceived as being boring, but I DO care if I’m becoming apathetic, or content with mediocrity. I didn’t relocate just to continue falling into the same rut.

I need to shake things up. Any suggestions? (Preferably nothing self-destructive, as I’ve already invested a great deal of energy into things of that nature).

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Being an Adult Sucks. No One Told Me.

March 11, 2009

Following the Great Lima Bean Debacle of ‘95, at the tender age of 7, I solemnly swore to myself that when I had reached that mythical pinnacle of human achievement (AKA “Adulthood”) I would never again eat food that I hated. This embargo generally included such categories as anything that had “-meal” in its name, like oatmeal, cornmeal, or any other plant made into a porridge-like concoction.

I remember many a meal my poor mother prepared that I turned my nose up at, but then choked down after learning that there was no other food to be had, and yes, I would starve if I refused to eat it. Where my friends were eating such nutrition-rich breakfasts as Chocolate Coco Puffs and Frosted Flakes and (for all I knew) Cheetos deep-fat fried in oil, rolled in powdered sugar and soaked in chocolate milk, I was forced to gum down tasteless oatmeal reminiscent of the toothsome texture of phlegm. Oh the injustice of it all!

Reaching adulthood, though, came with many disappointments and hardships, not the least of these my inability to eat anything sweet before noon without feeling sick for the rest of the day. Gone are my youthful dreams of donuts and Lucky Charms for breakfast, and in their place I find myself voluntarily gumming down oatmeal, and have even developed a taste for farina, so much so that I buy it in bulk at WinCo.

I’m not a health-nut, by any stretch of the imagination, but my desire for all things deep-fat-fried is definitely tempered by my desire to NOT look like a beached and bloated whale.

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It’s Still Lent and I Still Suck.

March 8, 2009

I’m quitting quitting quitting smoking (trust me, it makes sense. Mostly I just wanted to share my headache with you). Last Sunday I convinced myself that it was okay to smoke, because on Sundays Lent doesn’t count. Obviously, my actual goal is to quit permanently (except, perhaps, occasionally smoking socially), and allowing myself one day a week where all rules go out the window is NOT HELPFUL. I smoked way, way less than usual during the week (averaging about 1-2 cigarettes per day), but each time I just felt like more of a failure, which is a rotten way to feel. So, here’s to starting fresh. I haven’t smoked since Friday, and I’m officially done, always, regardless of Lent. Hopefully marijuana will be legalised soon, I could use some healthy stress relief. (I’m not just saying that to be flippant, the writing is on the wall: check out this TED talk with neurologist Dr. Dean Ornish).

The next few weeks will be so busy, I am tired just thinking about it. I have to pack, clean the house, plan several different events, apply for jobs, and hopefully make some extra money. I’m not terribly excited about it.

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Charmingly Dysfunctional… Right?

March 1, 2009

It’s a good thing I’m not trying to give up Crazy, because I seem to have a surplus of it lately. I would offer a general apology to those who I may have offended recently, but, depending on what I did, I may or may not be sorry. However, if you are seeking an apology, I will sincerely consider your request, and may or may not issue one to you (see Terms of Apology below). The reason for this caveat being that there are few things worse than an insincere apology, except, perhaps, unnecessary bitchiness.

I’m having an interesting weekend, to say the least. Had a bit of a wild night on Friday. Went to Café Olé for a friend’s going away party and had a few drinks. My best friend and I might have made out. There might be an incriminating picture. That’s all I will say on the matter. Saturday I was hungover and wondered if dying via decapitation might not be nearly as bad as most people seem to think. I went to work at 6am, and then went to a spa day my mother was hosting, which definitely helped with the hangover. In the afternoon I helped Karissa and Austin move. We had a good time with it. Today I had coffee with some friends, which was delightful and definitely relieved some stress.

In keeping with my Lent theme, here is a YouTube clip of comedian Louis CK talking about the Catholic church. Please note, it is probably extremely offensive to a lot of people. If you watch it, and you are offended, feel free to blame me, I won’t really care. As far as I’m concerned, mocking the horrible actions of horrible people is laudable.
Louis CK Learns About the Catholic Church

Cheerio!

Terms of Apology:
Megan will assign a number to your apology request and conduct a random drawing Sunday, March 8, 2009.
The winner of the drawing will receive a Certified Sincere Apology™ from Megan.
No purchase necessary.
Must be a legitimate grievance to be considered.
Megan assumes no liability for her actions.

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