fantasy, phantasmagorical, and halloween.

today i would like to go to any of these places

and not go to work. 

but just so you know...

work has been more bearable. why, you ask? because i remembered my life does not begin and end in a restaurant. there is more to me. i have other goals for myself, other hopes that extend far beyond whether someone has impeccable service. 

and in other news, i might even dress up for halloween tonight. don't get too excited, the pieces will come straight from my closet, so it's not super inventive. but i might just have some photos of my own to share!

happy halloween. may you get to travel to the land of your dreams, physically or metaphysically. 

phantasmagorical, indeed! (there's a word for you).

photos found here, here, and here.

a wish for november.

last night my friend angela came over for some very, very belated birthday sweet treats.

she lit cupcakes for me and demanded we take a picture. i was laughing so hard that one of the candles blew out just from that.

but i made a wish, nonetheless.

i won't tell you what it is. not exactly. because then it wouldn't come true.

but i will tell you, that right now,

i sure am wishing that november is a heck of a lot better than october.

that i get back in to the routine of waking up early.

that i find myself at the pool more often than not.

that i always have a good book to read. 

ps: want to know what my goal for the month of november is? learn to flirt. and then practice, practice, practice. right now i'm at the point where me flirting is me being a relatively friendly human being (as opposed to emitting an icy blast, which is what i tend to do with cute men), so i'm just a hop, skip, and a jump away.........

when all was said and done i put my books away before anything else.

and then i knew i was home.

and i started to breathe again.

i started crying tonight when mariano rivera threw that last pitch to clinch the alcs title for the yanks.

if if wasn't so highly, highly single i'd start to wonder if i'm pregnant.

i'm so emotional of late.

what gives, hormones?

ruminations on the word doppelganger.

i have a friend at work. and she makes me laugh. belly aching laughs. 

i understand her humor. she understands mine.

i didn't use to be funny. ever. and now it's only ever occasional. if that.

yesterday, after explaining my brief panic attack to Dr. Bob (the therapist), and the feeling of being without a family, as well as the million other things i felt and thought and stepped in this week, he asked,

okay, so what will you do for yourself this week.

to which i replied.

i guess i'll have to go out and buy myself a new family.

i doesn't seem that funny when i write it down. but it was. i promise. it was the funniest thing i've said in months. the timing, the delivery--it was perfect. you just must believe me.

i brag about this boorish joke only because it truly is so few and far between that i strike comic gold (as i did), and when i do, it's never, ever in the right setting. 

i mean, my therapist? he laughed and all, but that's as close as you can get to being by yourself and still having an audience. 

oh if only my humor were to become widespread--common knowledge. my sparkling and dazzling personality fails in crowds and necessary situations. and i brag out my personality because even i am beginning to question its existence?

so back to this friend. at work. it is one of my great (and only) joys of my current position to listen as said friend makes proclamations (or rather snap judgements) about each and every person we work for (our bosses). mispronounce her name once? you're a neanderthal. she's done with you. can't figure out that a cabbie won't take a $100 bill. you lose all credence (okay, so maybe that was my proclamation, but done in her spirit). so we got this new...higher up, who when he first met said friend, asked if he knew her from somewhere else, because he could swear she was this other person and so on and so on. so my friend said: i guess i have a doppelganger running around. and he said, a what? and she said, you know, a doppelganger. to which he replied, no, i don't know. what is that? 

said friend immediately shared this story. we giggled, as school girls do, and conspiratorially decided he lacked the necessary breadth of knowledge. 

imagine my chagrin when, for the next two weeks i went around telling this story, it always ended with listener asking me what in fact a doppelganger is. which then became another two weeks of me asking everyone i know if they knew the meaning of the word, and very, very few did. including my mother. and my mother knows many words. she keeps lists and looks them up. many a night was there dinner and a mirriam-webster dictionary on the table. 

and then came the final blow. i asked Dr. Bob and he said, oh it sounds familiar and i'm sure i should know it, but go ahead and tell me. and Dr. Bob is the smartest person i know.

ah. the coup de grace. 

yesterday ended up being rougher than expected. and i went to bed praying and crying. the former not a common act and the latter becoming a bit too habitual for comfort. 

you see. i do know the meaning of doppelganger. but there is so much i have to work on. 

i know, i know i'm not a great listener. and i get frustrated easily. and my face shows every ounce of that frustration and angst. i don't hide my feelings (which i think is a product of hiding them for so long) and while i really, really like this about myself--there is in fact a time and place. i have to learn to put on the mask when needed. and i need to learn to play the game. i'm not well spoken or articulate under stressful conditions. and i act like i'm ten more often than twenty-four. i hate confrontation and i hate having attention focused on me. i need to expand my tolerance for those who aren't as good at some things. or as well-versed in german venacular. 

i got home last night. and the awareness of my countless failings seeped in and the tears began. and i thought, i used to smile all the time.

after my third year of school i headed to western new york to do Albert Camus' The Just. and there's this line my character, Dora says, "I remember when I was a schoolgirl. I used to laugh. I was pretty then. I spent hours wandering around and dreaming." and i thought. i know what she means. right now. in this moment. i understand. now, i get it. 

through failure and failings comes understanding and awareness. and humility. and that will make me a better actor, a better writer, a better whatever-i-end-up-being. 

a better person? yeah, that too. for now, let's work on that, cause i got some work to do. 

and how to make my humor more accessible? that too. i gots some thinkin' to do on that fo'sho'.

this too shall pass. and it is. it's passing.

i'm feeling really lovely today. 

so much better. 

maybe its because when i get home from work tonight i get to begin reassembling my room. 

and i get to put a blanket back on my bed. 

and this will inevitably organize my mind. 

and maybe it's because i'm thinking tomorrow night, with pettitte at the helm (he's a pitcher), the yanks will win the alcs title. 

and maybe it's because i have you all with your lovely and supportive comments.

so feast your eyes on these thoughts and images which i'll carry with me today and through the weekend.

a truce to your volumes, your studies, give o'er: for books cannot teach you of love's marvelous lore.

hafiz

remember just for one minute of the day, it would be best to try looking upon yourself more as God does, for She knows your true royal nature.

hafiz

the sky where we live is no place to lose your wings so love, love, love.

hafiz

i wish i could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being.

hafiz

when no one is looking i swallow deserts and clouds and chew on mountains knowing they are sweet bones! when no one is looking and i want to kiss God, i just lift my own hand to my mouth.

hafiz

exaggeration is truth that has lost its temper.

kahil gibran

i prefer to be a dreamer among the humblest, with visions to be realized, than lord among those without dreams and desires.

kahil gibran

much of your pain is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. 

kahil gibran

love and doubt have never been on speaking terms.

kahil gibran

out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.

kahil gibran

keep me away from the wisdom which does not cry, the philosophy which does not laugh and the greatness which does now bow before children.

kahil gibran

ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets trying to find you.

hafiz

an eye for an eye and the whole world would be blind.

kahil gibran

image 1: life is beautiful

image 2 thru 6: sabino

image 7: tweexcore

image 8 thru 12: audrey hepburn complex

i left my job on tuesday, hating it so much i thought i might be sick.

i am a hostess. in a restaurant. 

enough. said.

i don't want things to be too easy. 

too easy means too comfortable and too comfortable is like some kind of small death.

but sometimes i wish certain things were just a tad easier. 

and while i'd like to quit. immediately.

i should probably wait until the exterminator comes on friday and then i get to put my room back together and for the first time in near a month live like a normal person. that will give me some perspective.

because much as i hate my job... at least it gives me the time and leeway to figure out just exactly what i might like to one day do.

i don't have to love this job. i don't have to be good at this job. i don't have to like everyone i work for or with. i just have to tolerate, persevere, and see it all as practice for inevitable domestic house-wife bliss that awaits (tongue and cheek, tongue and cheek. because i clean tables and carry dishes most of the day? and vacuum, lord knows how i love that).

brgh. this mood will end along with the bed bugs, yes? someone please say yes.

ps: ladies, ben (featured below) is taken, but don't worry, when i meet a guy, i'll let you know. 

so there are people that say socializing is good for one's health.

so my juilliard classmate (and one time prom date back in high school) ben and i hit up where the wild things are.

and then topped it off with some new york pizza. 

we joked about our current pains when it comes to paying the bills and the people we're forced to deal with. ben sells water (very expensive water) in broadway houses across the city. when asked why the water is so expensive he quickly responds, it's talent water--the same water they drink backstage. not only that, it's imported. then, with flare he throws it over the front of his arm, asking if they'd like to see the label. or when a customer asked him if he was working his way through college, and he said, he'd actually graduated, the said customer said, oh really, was this your major? and he said in all seriousness: why yes, i majored in concession management. 

bless you ben. 

when telling a guest the other day that we no longer allow strollers in the dining room because of safety reasons and  he asked if i had a PhD in that area (strollers in restaurants) i should have said, do you?

as i turns out ben is on hell of an actor. and a very good friend to share a monday night with. 

oh. of course.

i woke up this morning with a pounding headache, rolled around in bed for a few minutes, then reached for the nearest tissue to blow away this cold that's just sitting there, front of the face.

i got up, made myself a poor man's mocha (black coffee and hot cocoa pack) and put it in a bowl: coffee must always be taken in as the french do, bowl style. 

then i did ten squats to get the blood moving and cleared everything off my desk except for keys, phone, lamp, computer, and said coffee. see exhibit a.

exhibit a

and i resolved to write.

i had a split-screen panic attack last night.

i got the rolling waves of heat and relentless tears, but all the while i was aware of what was going on. and watching myself i found it all a bit funny. so it became a fight between the elements: tears or laughter. 

after not so long the laughter selflessly gave way, knowing that i needed to cry, to release and cleanse. 

it was as though those few minutes contained every thought i've ever had in all of my life.

what am i doing with my life. i'm a good actor, why am i not acting? have i failed? what is failure? will i ever meet a man that can love me? is this it? is this all i've been waiting for? calm down, this too shall pass. move on. stand still. breathe take it in. it'll be worth it. have patience. but i'm not patient. i'm not a patient person. did i screw everything up? can i go back and begin again. where's the restart button?

i really shouldn't be surprised, i've been living in bed-bug exile for going on two weeks now, a squatter in my own home. (see exhibit b)

exhibit b

i was on a break at work when it started. sitting there at the small wooden table, noshing on my squash salad, looking around at the sunday evening dinners being shared between families and wondering where my own family was and feeling the farness of them. and i thought, i am between families. which quickly became i am without a family, which is untrue, but this is how the mind works, you know?

and then i was cleaning the oreck silent vaccuum when my boss commented how everytime he looks he sees me doing this and thanks for that, which in my mind became, really, everytime you look this is what i am doing? oh brother, this is what my life is reduced to? cleaning other people's shit out of a plastic trash receptacle?

my father called me later in the evening. and he listened as i, through tears, listed all of my fears. this silly, little job and the future and work and where my life will go and what i can accomplish and what i’m capable of accomplishing and on and on and on. and somewhere in that on and on and on it came out. my greatest fear. a fear that i don’t think I’d ever even spoken aloud. a fear that while i am certain others must feel the same way, seemed the most shameful, the most unspeakable. remember last week when jasmine featured my fun with proust and i said my greatest fear was "dying before i've ever truly been loved"? well, that's not quite right. my greatest fear? my greatest fear is that i'll never fall in love with a man who will love me back. i know that i can fall in love. and i am reasonably certain that a man can fall in love with me. i just can’t imagine it happening at the same time. that the person i choose would choose me as well.

and this is when my father in his infinite wisdom said, you have to work on loving yourself. and i said, but dad, i do, i am working on it, i’ve come so far.

and then he said the next really important thing, guys are not perfect and even the right guy, won’t change everything.

and that’s when it hit me. i’ve been daydreaming of this new crush now. and I find myself dreaming of the little things—the things that would make a life—not the week-long-love-affairs-in-rome (which, don’t get me wrong, will be amazing) but the first moment he puts his hand on my pregnant stomach and realizes he’s going to be a father. or the moment in the department store when we choose a new set of sheets or a new pillow. these daydreams are different than my past daydreams of men—they’re not quite so exotic and dangerous, they’re comfortable and familiar in a really thrilling way. i thought it was this guy who was making the difference. but dad, you’re right, the daydreams are different because I am different. i can now envision a future—a life of countless important moments because I now know i deserve that. and those dreams are not contingent upon any one man. the man does not make the difference, i do. and maybe that’s truly the beginning of everything—that’s the beginning of my love story. 

turns out panic attacks can be moments of great personal growth.

go figure.

these are my suggestions. what are yours?

this morning i fell in love with this.

i found it on courtney's gorgeous blog, ka . lei . do. scope

and it was just what i needed. 

lately, though, this has been getting me through the day:

i feel like there are just so many good female singer/songwriters out there right now. any one in particular that you love? you must tell me, i'm always in search of some new (to me) music!

bronx bombers.

so after a five hour and ten minute game the yanks just took game two of the ALCS series against the angels. 

(for non baseball fans, this means they have to win two more against the angels to head to the world series--it's best of 7)

i almost lost my mind.

i promise i'll be a more consistant blogger this next week. i've got plenty to say i've just been distracted. by lots of things. like...umm...

a little october baseball magic. 

an experiment in poverty.

cutest pictures ever of jasmine and her t0-die-for-boyfriend, levi

have you seen, have you seen?

the loveliest of lovelies, jasmine, featured my fun with proust on her always delightful blog, an experiment in poverty (which also happens to be the title of the memoir i pen in my head each morning).

i couldn't be more honored or flattered.

and yes, yes indeedy, i think we would make fantastic "real-life" friends!!

oh, i'm just giddy with excitement about it all!

dear love of my life,

i've been thinking of you of late.

and been unable to bring myself to write you.

i became self-conscious.

i think around the age of eighteen someone told me of a friend who had written letters at all the major events in her life and on the day of her wedding, presented it to her husband as her gift to him.

and i thought, perfection.

and i decided, i too, will do this. and thus began my own silent letter-writing-campaign.

and then this lovely, little blog came about. and i wouldn't change a word i've written and i wouldn't give any of it up for all the gold in the leprechaun's pot. but, i fear--i fear you might find these letters before it's time--before either of us is ready.

i keep thinking of john ashberry's at north farm:

Somewhere someone is traveling furiously toward you,

At incredible speed, traveling day and night,

Through blizzards and desert heat, across torrents,

through narrow passes.

But he will know where to find you,

Recognize you when he sees you

i read it and think, of course, has a more perfect idea ever existed? it's such a beautiful and comforting idea--all our lives we are moving rapidly toward this person.

and then we find them.

and then we find them. ay, there's the rub. i think about that moment--that moment of finding them--and all i can think of is junior year of physics and newton's first law of motion:

every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it.

euf, of course.

hidden in that first law is the fact that the impact of that outside force cam be brutal.

so you've been traveling all your life in search of this person and then you find them and it's halting--that metaphorical slamming of the brakes. halting? no, not the right word. i mean the force of that stop--traumatic at best. and yes, it's thrilling and yes it's the beginning of everything, but in that moment and the immediate aftermath, i imagine it's nothing short of utterly terrifying

me too.

i'm scared too.

i mean, really scared.

it's a long time, this "till death do us part," no?

i know. me too.

but i'm asking you to be really courageous.

take the leap. okay?

i'll jump with you.

love, love, love, love,

me

pictures, as promised (it's a start).

i love weddings. 

why, you ask?

i'll tell you.

well, for the obvious reasons, of course. 

and.

because they are always tremendously enlightening experiences.

1. it really is probably for the best that i don't get married for another 30 years or so--my father was halfway to crazy by the time i arrived in rhode island with two of my cousins. and this was his niece getting married. not his daughter. 

2. do not leave the parking lot with the waterford crystal bowl sitting on top of the car. a broken bowl does not a good gift make. (good news: it made quite a thump, but did not break--just a wee of a scratch on the paper)

3. dancing makes everything better. and a good, short haircut swingin' to the beat gives even the poorest of dancers (me) the belief that they aren't half bad

evidence of any damage? hardly.

cousin mary and her lovely new husband, patrick.

my cousin brian with his fiancee, melissa and his mother. doesn't he look happy? he should, he caught a good one. 

with my aunt patti and cousin mike.

with popops.

cousin brian doing the footloose dance. goodness, i love my wacky family.

my brother (and new bostonian) with me, cousin brian and melissa.

cousin kevin (who spent the week with me in new york) and gorgeous sarah (fiancee of my cousin sean)

christmas card? check. the nuclear family and in a rare somewhat-photogenic moment.

hope you had a lovely weekend!

in a day.

on monday night i chopped all my hair off. 

i needed a change.

yesterday, i bought myself an unforgivably expensive purse (euf. thank you birthday money).

and this morning i packaged everything i own into plastic bags in preparation for the exterminator. turns out preparing for bed bug demolition is like moving (without any of the organization). 

everything can change in a day.

two weeks ago i looked in the mirror and began to cry. i saw myself. as i haven't seen myself in four years. 

you see, when ned pitches a tent and stakes a corner of my life.... well, my face is the first thing to change. it swells ever so slightly which changes the overall appearance. it's not a big change. just enough to change... everything. so i looked in the mirror and cried because i thought, oh my god, my mom's going to look at me and see her baby girl for the first time in four years. 

when this thing... this ned...first came about it took so much time to interpret him--to learn his language, and convey his meaning to those around me. so by the time everyone understood, i feared most for my mother. she thought it was her fault. she hated that she couldn't help me. if there is anything unforgivable about the time with my eating disorder, it is the pain i have put my mother through. i know because i'm tethered to her. when she is sad, i feel her sadness tenfold. i can't imagine what she has felt throughout this--this process. 

so, that's what i thought, yes, my mom's going to look at me and see her baby girl for the first time in four years. 

and then of course the bed bugs descended. and my birthday. and the impending arrival of my family (we have a wedding to go to tomorrow). and if you don't know it by now... i tend to not do so well with big events. i've dampened many an important holiday in the past (i seem to recall a very difficult thanksgiving two years ago) and with the arrival of all these things, ned crept back in. by small degrees i allowed his onset. 

this... thing that today i cannot give more of a name to than just that: thing, is a constant lesson--an experiment in humility. just as soon as i am ready to claim victory, i am reminded that there is no such thing as victory. there is only this day. and tomorrow. and an endless fight. and that's not necessarily bad. because the fight won't always be hard. but it will be. the difference between a very healthy me and a very... not healthy me is at most two inches on the battle map. 

have you ever noticed that laughing looks an awful lot like crying? and making love can resemble a fight between two people? this world is made of infinitesimally small lines that we all traverse each and every day. 

the past two weeks have been not so good. but last night when i had the impulse to cater to ned's wishes (yes, that pun was intended) i didn't. and that's all it takes. one moment of unbearable strength where you pull yourself over the cliff and begin the slowly and steady walk away from the edge. 

so whereas i was not okay yesterday, i am today. and so yes, everything can change in a day.

when i see my mother tomorrow, i may wish that my face still reflected what i saw in that mirror two weeks ago. and i may way wish i looked slightly better in my dress, but, c'est la vie. there will be time for that in the future. so for tomorrow i will smile and know that my eyes hold all the me my mother will ever need to see. 

________________________________

back in high school i listed in on a lecture by a visiting shakespearean scholar. 

this is what he said:

the average american has a vocabulary of about 3,000 words.

the most educated americans possess about 6,000.

language fails us. all the time. every day. is it any wonder people suffer from any form of mental illness--when there aren't enough words to aptly express the full gamut of human emotion?

shakespeare's vocabulary? culled from all his plays and sonnets?

36,000. 

holy moly. 36,000 words. 

the man made them up. if it didn't exist. he created it. 

so on this day i wish i had all those 36,000 words to thank you all for your kind birthday wishes. i'd like to thank each and every one of you individually (and am hoping to... eventually) but for now i leave you all with just these two words.

thank you.

my birthday was a lovely oasis in the midst of these past two weeks. it's funny, 24 has gotten off to a rocky start. but i've never been so hopeful or so positive about what's just around the bend.

thank you. all of you. this thing--this blogging community--changes my life each and every day and helps me heal in a way unlike anything else.

love and thanks to you all,

meg

_______________________________

ps: one of the best birthday gifts i received was the knowledge that president barack obama was known as "barry" back in college. 

barry.

awesome.

my gift to you:

proof of this!

_______________________________

post ps: i am a child of october. october is the month the gods of baseball reign. the yanks took down the twins 7-2 in the first game.

game two is tonight.

let's go yankees. 

who i am at 24.

this morning i woke up to a new year. 

i buttoned up my brand new, crisp-as-they-come, white blouse, took a good long look in the mirror and decided that yes, 24 felt different in the best possible way. i was different. better. immediately, i knew.

then i gave one squirt of smashbox foundation into my waiting hand and ended up with five gloriously large makeup blobs all over my brand new shirt--my never-been-worn shirt. and i was brought back to reality. this would not be the year of the immaculately clean white blouse. a new year, a new day does not a different person make. i am still the girl who gets make-up on her shirt (or food--more often food), stumbles over her words, and does not realize that the restaurant has not been serving broccoli now for a full 34 days (as my boss so kindly pointed out). 

and you know what? thank God above for my persistent little foibles. they're glorious. and i love them.

my girlfriend from high school and i were speaking on the phone today. about boys. (what all young, twenty-something women most love to discuss). and she mentioned a boy she had dated several years ago that she would be meeting up with soon. she expressed trepidation about the time elapsed and said, i'm not same person i was at fifteen. to which i replied, thank God,  whitney. thank God we're not the same people. 

okay, so i am different today. and i'll be different tomorrow. each day brings a new and exciting adventure. 

i may not be so young as i was last year. but i have a year's worth of knowledge along with a new number. and for the first time in my life i feel like i am on the precipice of... everything. 

so 24. who am i. well, here goes.

if i could have a constant supply of anything for the rest of my life it would be flowers and paper toweling. 

at the grocery store, i most love coming away with the tall, slender bottles of pellegrino. it makes me feel...french.

i hiccup any time i've had too much food or eaten too quickly. so... often. very, very often. 

there is a direct correlation between the quality of my mood and the cleanliness of my home.

laughter. above all, i need laughter. small hiccups of laughs and roaring guffaws. when i think of the man i'll marry there is so much i dream of. but the only thing i know--i mean really know--is that he'll laugh at my jokes and my constant mistakes. and himself. oh for a man who can laugh at himself! he'll make me laugh and for this i'll love him as though our lives depend on it. 

i'd like to tell you that ned isn't following me into this new year. but he is. two weeks ago i would have said, no, no way. but with the onset of bed bugs and thus a disrupted sleep cycle, he has taken taken this opportunity to creep back in. when i am healthy it's as though i've found a little pocket of air in which to breathe--and i ride it for as long as i can. it's a sweet spot where ned can't touch me. and i know that in the process of recovering it's important to fall out of the pocket so that i can figure out how to get back to it quickly. so i'm trying to give thanks for the fall out. but giving thanks isn't always so easy. nor is finding my way back in. 

back in april i gave myself a year to fail, to fall on my ass again and again. and i'm doing it and loving it. and i've still got a good six months. 

i promised myself that come 24 i would take pictures. all the time. every day. it would take work and practice, but i would make it a habit. and it would be a crushing blow to ned. but i'm not feeling very picture pretty today. so i make this promise. it will be a week late, but come this weekend i will post some photos. full length photos. photos that pretty or not will show you who i am in a way that my words cannot. 

i feel good about this age. this 24 number will be a good one. ned will end. and i will fall in love. (that's my divination for the future...i guess we'll see if my predictions are on point!). 

ps: i have a crush on a man who snaps his fingers. and when he does it's strong and clear and reminds me of my father and this inspires great confidence. 

photo via sabino.

in new york.

yesterday morning i woke up itching away. 

it was 4 am. 

and i had gone to bed wearing shoes.

all i wanted to do was take a hot shower.

and our hot water had been turned off.

this was a low point. 

a very, very, low point.

but i made the decision to have a good day.

and then learned that sometimes even making the decision does not a good day ensure.

but last night?

well, last night i slept until the gentle ding ding ding of my alarm. 

i then took a piping hot shower, drank in the autumnal air, and knew it would be a good day.

often, people here in manhattan want to know why i moved so far north. and this whole bed bug thing has increased the rapidity of those questions. 

well, to them i say this:

bed bugs and all i wouldn't change a thing. because this morning when i went for my jog, this is what i saw:

and yes. this was in new york city.