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2.28.2011

just a thought.

a little grimy

once upon a time not so very long ago i dated a man who should have made me very happy.

and he did.

sometimes.

but sometimes in the cool darkness of another day done i felt a low, rolling sadness.

deep and soft.

it was my friend angela who pointed out what a big thing that was. i would go on and on about all the reasons i should like him and all the reasons i was struggling in the relationship and she'd kinda look at me from out the corner of her eye and say: but you're sad when you're with him.

and that would be that.

the end of the discussion.

sometimes i wonder if that's what this city has become for me. a place i should love. a place i work hard each day to convince myself that i could love. when truth be told, the city makes me sad. a low, rolling sadness.

deep and soft.




2.24.2011

because my to-do list extends several feet today, another video it is (but a really good one).

on saturday night when connor (my brother) and i headed to the concert we had no real intention of staying for the main act, dr. dog. 

but here's the thing: they were pretty darn great.

so today i leave you with this, the video for my favorite dr. dog song of saturday night:



i just can't get over how fun the whole thing was.

i really need to get out of the house more.

2.23.2011

because enough people asked...

the food in the pictures from yesterday was from parish cafe on boylston street. its menu is comprised mostly of sandwiches, each one created by a different local and acclaimed chefs.

my brother and i ordered corn cakes to begin. and from there i got the portobello sandwich and well, i can't remember what he got, but i'm pretty sure he liked it.

it was there on saturday afternoon that my brother explained his theory that all females are crazy (i do not disagree) and how a man's tolerance for said crazy is related to her level of attractiveness (though they are not directly proportional because the correlative line curves {or something like that...remember it's been a really long time since i've taken a math class--i don't remember how to talk about it all}).

parish cafe

lunch

menu: parish cafe

chart

my chart

that top line reads: meg's uncertainty zone. from there connor's broken the chart into three sections: (1) too crazy (2) good and (3) marry now (or as he said, lock it down). i do think my brother has overestimated my level of crazy, but live and let live...who knows, maybe he's right.

2.22.2011

my christmas gift to my brother (and to myself...just a little bit).

just two days before this last christmas my family collected in new york where we spent our first night at the new leaf cafe (arguably, my favorite place in all of the city). there we talked and drank and ate and somewhere in the conversation i mentioned this indie band from seattle i had taken a liking to and my brother said something along the lines of oh yeah, i've heard them. i really like them. 


that night when i got home inspiration struck. i looked up tour dates, found a concert in boston (where my brother now lives, and where i had yet to visit him) and booked us two tickets.

(there are times when procrastination pays).

on christmas morning i passed him the gift, which he unraveled to the tune of: who are these people?


me: but we just talked about them two days ago. you said you liked them.


him: oh. did i?


such is life. the good news is that the thought was not lost and in two months time i'd take a trip up north for a little quality time.

on this saturday night we hopped in cab to the paradise rock club and stood in line where we were met by the smell of herbal such-and-suchs and a group of people far grungier than ourselves.

i could have cared less. the whole thing was bliss. and my brother having boned up on his the head and the heart knowledge since december was well prepared.

there's nothing like live music is there? the communion between artist and audience. the feel of the drums in the body. the dimensions and layering that few recordings can really illuminate.

they were so good.

they were so, so good.

in this age of over-processed music where artists can rarely match what we hear on their cds--they were brilliant.

when they finished their set my brother turned to me and said: yeah, that was a good christmas gift. 


(my brother wouldn't let me take a full video of the band, but in this age of instant media, i pulled one off of youtube from the very night we were there. and since it's connor's favorite song...)



ps: when we were leaving i totally recognized two members of the band just outside the door and in a moment of rare (really rare) social prowess i turned to them and told them just how brilliant we thought they were. and since we were a little star-struck (and crushing on just about every member of the band) just getting to talk to them for a moment was surreal. it was only later that we kicked ourselves for missing out on the photo opportunity. oh well, next time.

if you can get yourselves to a head and the heart concert do it. by all means. run to one.

and my favorite song? rivers and roads. heaven. absolute heaven.

2.21.2011

weekend in boston.

i apologize for the dearth of posting around here. i've hit the winter-has-gone-on-far-too-long-funk. 

that's it.

that's the whole of the explanation i can offer up.

but this weekend i've been in boston visiting my brother and attempting to overcome the winter blues. and i must say what a difference it has made...it certainly doesn't hurt that we saw a brilliant concert by my personal favorite, the head and the heart and then drove to new hampshire sunday morning for a day of skiing.

my camera powered off about two minutes into sunday, but for now i'll leave you with these.

church

in the living room

back bay windows

mantel

corn cakes

connor at parish cafe

lunch

loving on scout

blue skies

berry wreath

2.17.2011

i've been thinking a lot about this lately...



all changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another


anatole frances

2.15.2011

book club: the first meeting


book club

it started to snow saturday afternoon. for just a moment. and for the first time since that first fateful snowfall following christmas i found myself willing the sky to really open up. i figured a blanketing of the city would be a perfectly valid excuse to postpone the next day's book club meeting.

i was scared.

utterly terrified.

i knew no one. but nor did anyone else.

and then a little gift of the universe: an ice-breaker in the form of a room change. our pre-assigned room--room 401 had been re-assigned for none other than...wait for it...stripperexpertease (yes, please do note how that word is spelled).

i figured if that didn't scare people away, well then, by golly, we were gonna be okay.

the whole thing was lovely. truly, lovely (there was a really good energy in the room {does that sound new age-y and weird?}). and i felt so incredibly lucky to be surrounded by smart, out-spoken women (and one man!).

discussion of the book led to discussion of writing and blogging and our own lives and what brought us to new york and on and on. the two hours flew by but we followed it up with a late lunch at a corner diner and more discussion.

i feel so very lucky to have met such good, brave people and i can't wait until next month. the book has yet to be decided but our tentative date is sunday, march 20 (probably around 3 pm this time) and newcomers are of course welcome and encouraged.

a tremendous thank you to those who came and anyone who read along (please do tell what you thought of the book!)...and until next time.

2.14.2011

a not-such-a-valentine's-day-story.

she sat in the cool, dark theatre. surrounded by strangers. a book on her lap, waiting for the play to begin.

she had come to see him. in the play, on the stage. come to see him, tell a story.

but she was sitting so close. and wanted so desperately to move, just a little. wanted to be further away--wanted to make it harder for his eyes to light upon her during some great scene or important moment. didn't want to be privy to a moment in which the fourth wall broke.

perhaps it was that she knew they were breaking. maybe that was the real impulse to move, to run, to escape to the light beyond the theatre.

but she stayed, marveled as the words of the playwright tumbled around in the actors' mouths, and then  sat across from him at dinner.

and when things were good, there was nothing she liked more than sitting across from him, sharing his space, being close enough that his laughter could land on her--she had forgotten that all these many months later--she had thought she had nothing nice to say. and that that was the real tragedy. that she had fallen for the markers of a man and not the man himself. but she had forgotten that without him ever even looking her way she could feel his awareness, his enrapture. total and complete. and it felt good.

life and its many shades of grey.

because for all the warmth he aroused, he also stirred something deep and sad within her. and he didn't want to know that. to touch that. to taste that. so he'd flirt with the bartender as she sat quietly on the adjacent stool. or so it seemed.

in fact, it all seemed a bit ridiculous now. the few extra blocks she'd walk out of her way in those first few months after it unraveled--charged both by the dread and hope that she might see him. or the now untouched bottle of perfume in bottom drawer of her dresser. she couldn't stomach the scent; he had so liked it.

she ran into a friend recently. a friend who had sat in the same cool, dark theatre on the same winter-swept night. and watched the play with the same tumbling words. said friend asked about the guy, remarked that her own attendance at the play had sparked a series of messages between the two, culminating in their own ill-fated date.

and there it was.

she had sat in the theatre, worried that his eyes would find her too easily. what a needless worry. for in fact his eyes had found someone else that night.

yes, yes. it all seemed a bit ridiculous now.

happy valentine's day lovers!

kept.



i don't want to live. i want to love first, and live incidentally. 

zelda fitzgerald






photo by ask_alaska
on flickr.

2.12.2011

photos found...have me dreaming...

* 204

* 206

* 210

* 202

* 199

* 198

browsing through one of my favorite tumblrs i came across one photo which led to another which led to this gorgeous series of guernsey. and considering the book club book is the guernsey literary and potato peel pie society...well, perfect timing, no?

these photos, heaven.

i do feel like i'm destined for europe...

eventually.

photos by murr! on flickr

2.07.2011

FAT TALK


i love cjane's blog.

i have for quite sometime.

mostly because she's a genius writer. and even more so because, well, she's a genius writer.

so when she blogged the first in her new series of healing the body image i wanted to reach across the blogosphere and kiss the woman on the mouth. yes, the mouth--that's how ardently gratitude arose within me.

here was a woman with a huge platform publishing an article that actually said all the right things.

i lapped up each and every word.

and then i started to look through the comments.

and it was about this time that my blood began to boil.

most of the comments were supportive and lovely, but it was the ones that seemed to miss the point entirely that had me taking deep and long breaths (so as to remain calm). and between the inhales and exhales i reminded myself that janna's tenants for a healthy lifestyle are things that have taken me years to learn--things that tom (my personal version of janna {an eating and weight disorders specialist here in new york}) must have said a hundred different ways on a hundred different occasions before i ever even heard them.

the articles set off an avalanche of sorts in my mind that i'm still having a difficult time sorting through.

but let's start with fat talk. because janna mentions it on more than one occasion but never really goes into it in great detail.

i have this theory: fat talk is like second-hand smoke. far more dangerous to the person having to take in someone else's spew.

and fat-talk is everywhere.

after posting the video about it on friday afternoon i went out to dinner on friday night. and there it was, fat-talk--amongst people that i think the world of. saturday night found me at work and lo and behold:  fat talk. then again this morning, taking zoobie to nursery school: an open-faced sandwich was half as many carbs, as opposed to half as much bread--maybe it's just semantics, but words are important. we use fat talk to put others down. we use it to put ourselves down. we use it to complement another girl. another guy. we confuse our dislike of someone with the shape of their body. and we mistake it as humor.

i remember attending a party at my aunt and uncles's house just over a year ago and watching as two middle-aged-men, salt-of-the-earth guys went in to share a hug after not seeing one another for nearly a year. one remarked, well, i guess it's more of a stomach bump than a hug at this point. i heard that statement and thought, it really is everywhere isn't it? it's cultural at this point. and there is no group of people, no economic class unaffected by it's influence.

the guy i dated around this time last year would make fun of my eating issues. all the time. and i loved that about him. because in laughing about it i felt slightly more normal. but then this summer i made a joke about my arms (something silly about how tennis would work off the ice cream i was currently lapping up) and a guy i hardly knew--half the age of the man i had dated--said, nope you don't get to do that. i'm not gonna let you make that joke. this is me, looking out for you. and a part of me fell in love with him right then and there. because he showed me a new way. showed me that eliminating fat talk is far sexier than twisting it towards self-deprecation. and in that moment he illuminated a bit of what it is to be a man. a real man. and holy moly was it sexy.


i suppose the reason the (i'm going to choose to call them "unhelpful") comments regarding janna's posts so go to me is that in some ways they are a form of fat-talk. and therefore, far more damaging, far more influential than the good things people had to say. while not technically fat-talk i call them that because they were in many ways misinformed or short-sighted.

diets don't work. there are no two ways about it. they simply don't. and to combat that statement by saying they do is a flimsy comeback. perhaps they worked for one person. or another. perhaps they worked for a family member but it is the tenuousness of that "victory" that leads people to defend diets so fiercely. i want to know if in five--ten years all the weight lost remains as such-gone.

do me a favor. ask yourself something: if they did work (diets, that is) would our country really be struggling with a snowballing obesity crisis? if it really is so easy( as most programs suggest) than why do so many of us have such a difficult time?

money has to be spent to consume the extra calories that put the weight on in the first place. and then money is spent on a program or a book to lose the weight. and yes, maybe some weight is lost. but then it comes back. and then we spend more money to lose it all over again, or to try--at least to try. the diet industry is not one of charity and good-will--it is a not a non-for-profit. its ultimate goal: to make as much money as possible.

to say diets don't work is not a setback to the obesity epidemic--it is, in fact, the silver-bullet to overcoming it.

these things that janna speaks to: eliminating fat-talk, honoring the body's natural impulses--these will be the things that will end obesity. i was so impressed by jaime oliver's food revolution when it aired last spring. he never once used the word diet, never once spoke of calories. he encouraged people to learn to cook and to eat real (meaning not overly processed) foods. when i told tom about it he said those two things--cooking and consumption of real food could cut this country's obesity epidemic in half. in half!

look, i as much as anyone else understand the appeal of diet program. the built-in control and stability. but i know there's not a good one out there (despite the promise of a re-vamped weight watchers). i get it. i do. jennifer hudson looks amazing. believe you me, i understand. but of course they've changed their program!--change and the new is just as much a part of a marketing-pitch as anything else. and perhaps it really is better. but nonetheless. it doesn't allow for the fact that one month a person may need to eat more than another month. or two months, or three. our body has needs that we aren't always acutely aware of. any time we try to so strictly regulate the process it's like putting a kink in the water hose: and the water sure won't flow. because the body will sort it out on its own, if we let it. and even if we don't let it, the body still tries. and as with too many cooks in the kitchen something is sure to get burned (and it may not be those extra calories).

i recently worked on a project with a woman who had lost nearly forty pounds on weight watchers. and she looked great. but i recognized within her a terror--an absolute fear of regaining all she had lost. it was in the way she looked at food. in how she talked about it (fat talk, oh my!) and in how would quickly brush her teeth after eating--not, for the sake of dental hygiene, but to send a signal to her stomach that the time for eating was over. and she went on and on about how weight watchers is the healthiest thing out there. but here was a woman nearly three times my age living in total fear of food. and i thought, if weight-watchers is the healthiest of diets and yet it perverts the mind to this extent... no thanks. i'll pass.

there is so much work to be done in fighting obesity. and it is time we step up and take responsibility. cost of food and convenience are no longer acceptable excuses for dining out at mcdonalds. we have to make time and we have to set aside funds. we have to educate ourselves, our children, and our lawmakers. we need to create new food markets by shifting our demands to local, healthy produce. it is incumbent upon us to find new avenues. and yes, these things, all these things might be terrifying--they might be like jumping off a cliff. but at this point we just gotta try. we're failing as it is. worst thing that can happen is we fail in a new direction--but at least in more failure we gain more information.

2.04.2011

FED: feeding with information


yeti's best

it's been a sparse week around these blog parts. so i sat down last night to write a really meaty FED post. so i sat down on the couch with the computer. and then i moved to my desk. then climbed into bed.

and i came up with a lot of dribble that filled about three drafts that are now tucked away somewhere in my archives. but it just wasn't ready. the words weren't coming.

so instead i'm going to say this:

read this:

JANNA DEAN, HEALING THE BODY IMAGE (on the glorious CJANE's blog)

now this:

JANNA DEAN, HEALTHY BODY IMAGE FOR OUR CHILDREN (again, thank you CJANE)

watch this video to learn what FAT TALK is:




and let's be clear what the word diet means and how it is used (i emailed tom {my very, very smart therapist who happens to be an eating and weight disorder expert} so as we'd get this really, really right):

diet as a noun is "the food that you eat"
in our culture we use diet as a verb to describe some process designed to alter one's body through what we eat--most often this means restricting. this has led to the misuse of the word diet as a noun to mean "the food that you eat to lose weight"

so from here on out when i (or someone else) say diets don't work what is meant by diets is a specific, regimented process designed for the ultimate task of losing weight.



now for extra credit: check out mark bittman's food manifesto.

i want to know what you all think about all this. because on monday you better believe i'm gonna let you know what i think. let's hash through this...

2.01.2011

saturday night.

everything was tinged with magic.

there it was. that silly, overwrought, ill-advised word: magic.

but that's how it seemed.

the gentle, teeming snowflakes--exhausted and exhausting only days before now new again. and clear.

the passing of a guy she had known seven years before. as strangers. smiling at the near run-in, ducking her head, giving thanks for the miss.

the skateboarders on the overpass. the grinding of their frantic wheels contrasting the steady hurtling moan of the subway.

she wore no makeup. and felt beautiful. felt the eyes of the men around her.

this is happiness.

the thought didn't flicker past, didn't approach slowly. it just was. everywhere and all at once--encircling, encompassing, bone-rattling.

this is brilliant.



via

an apology. and a giveaway winner.


my mother pointed out today that i'm a bad blogger. 
i promised to announce the giveaway winner on friday
then i pushed it to monday.
and now it's tuesday.

sometimes life gets the better of you. 

but my mom's right. that's not fair. by not following through i undermine the validity of my words and i undercut the value of the giveaway itself--its worthy cause, and the enormity of the response by you all.

so i must apologize.

truly.

i was so honored to sponsor a giveaway by nakate and so excited by how you all responded. 

and i hope to do another giveaway soon. just to thank you all. for reading and responding and filling me to the brim each and every day. 



so without further ado. the necklace goes to:






email me at wilybrunette@yahoo.com with your information.