Celebrate good times, come on!

Vintage Tiki Hula Girl Boob Mug from Harvey's

I've spent the morning researching PhD programs outside of California. Those non-resident fees are astronomical! Don't bother getting a PhD without getting a research or teaching assistant position, which will likely give you automatic resident status and give you a stipend or scholarship in return.

I don't want to be a "doctor" per se, but I continue to run into the reality that I think in a research/clinical way, and my work does not particularly allow me to pursue these things actively. I love to research and write. I don't necessarily want to do tests on people, or rats, or monkeys. I just want to write about the thoughts in my head. I think that's a reasonable goal for a doctoral program - Dear Dean of Admissions, I'm brilliant and I need to share it with the world. Please accept me. You won't regret it. You'll be happy you did.

I tried to do this as a seventeen-year-old applying to the honors program at my university. It didn't work out so well. It made sense to me, but I guess they diagnosed me with narcissism, and threw the essay away. I'm struggling a lot with self-doubt right now, and will be spending the next two weeks trying to work through that. I don't think I want to go back to school. I think I just want to go to Montana, and meet some lumberjack with a thick beard who will appreciate my intellect, and write poems about trees.

Actually, I'm less interested in men than I ever have been. It's pretty wonderful. I highly recommend it. I think I've dealt with some issues surrounding my feelings of inadequacy about being single. Or maybe I'm just pretending. Who knows?

Anyhoo, good to have you. Please come again :)

Green Smoothies :)

Casualware "Avocado" Green Knives - A first for me :)

I believe that there are receptors in our body that crave green nutrients, fresh raw green nutrients. I also believe that eating all raw is crazy. I had a moment a month or so ago where I found a website that told me that eating all raw would cure my Type I Diabetes, and I was consumed by guilt that I wasn't willing to do it. But I got over it when I remembered how short life is, and I think that we all have to make decisions about our health that allow us to survive and thrive. Being limited by a diet limits one's entire life. I learned this when I was initially diagnosed with diabetes, and I ended up living on lettuce and protein bars. I was miserable, and sick, and I couldn't fit in anywhere.

It took me a long time to try every diet for diabetes, and choose one that worked for me. Veganism works for me. I've figured out how to make it work, take care of myself, and not go crazy. The latter is probably the most important (see earlier comment on lettuce).

Anyhoo, the most recent way I've figured out how to flood those "raw green" receptors (maybe they're in my gut somewhere) is to make green "smoothies". You throw some green stuff in a blender with some fruit and some sort of liquid (I use water), blend it up and drink it. I know it sounds gross, but there is something about it that makes me feel really good, and that makes me want to keep doing it. It helps me eat a lot of spinach too, which I know is good for me, especially since I don't eat meat.

Anyhoo, there are a ton of rules about how to do it, which I don't follow very closely, because too many rules makes me less likely to do the thing I'm trying to do. And seriously, if you go from no spinach to a glass of green every once in a while, that can only be good, right?

The Bachelor.

Vintage boobie shirt- a real winner :)

So as we all know, I love to talk about what I think, and reality television allows me constant fodder for discussion.

This season of The Bachelor brings us much more of the same: people stuck into unrealistic situations, manipulated to produce false romantic feelings, and constant drama and tears. Private islands, diamonds, and couture, do not a real relationship make. Which is fine, I mean, loads of people meet under strange circumstances, and somehow manage to eek out reasonable relationships. But life isn't perfect, and truth is stranger than the falsehood of false celebrity. So by the time the show is over, and everyone has fallen in and out of love, the reality of true life, real ugly human life, shows up, and no amount of célébrité is going to rewind the romance back to the bright lights and giddiness of the television show.

So every time the producers interview some woman who hasn't gotten a rose, and she's asking "Why? Why? Why?" and "What is wrong with me?" and "Why does this always happen to me?", I am screaming at the screen, "There is nothing wrong with you!!!" and "This has nothing to do with who you are - you are beautiful and wonderful and this isn't real!"

Anyhoo, all y'all bachelorettes out there, keep the faith and don't accept anything less than the absolute best.

Thus endeth Megan's brief fore into romantic advice columnist-mode.

Fin.

Science Fiction.

When I was a kid, I loathed science fiction, didn't get it, thought it was dumb, etc. It just didn't interest me, and I couldn't understand how or why it interested other people. It scared me, to see aliens in movies (Signs scared the crap out of me; Star Wars was just a fad I had to be a part of). I also happen to love reality television, the delicious ridiculousness of it, the psychological assessments I get to do on the fly. The real vs. the unreal; this is my battle.

Flash forward a few years, and suddenly I'm super into The X Files. I think I even watched Zombieland recently with my teenage pals. I'm becoming more open to the unreal, to the imaginative part of life, and I think it's a good thing. I need more fantasy in my life to balance out the harsh realities I see every day. I need things to take my mind completely away from the day-to-day. I'm even reading Michael Crichton. Good stuff.

I'm avoiding life at the moment, making excuses, ignoring phone calls, hoping that nothing is waiting for me around the corner, hoping no one else will die or get some horrible disease. I just don't know if I can do this whole "getting older" thing. Because the older I get, the more people I love, and then people die. They get cancer. They get old. They get suicidal. It happens.

But I'm tired of it happening, and I'm just done for right now. So yeah, I'm not my most exuberant self, but I'm alive, and I don't have a brain tumor or epilepsy, so I'm trying to find some goodness in that. But otherwise, I'm wishing that I hadn't chosen to let myself love people so long ago, because it hurts to lose them.

So I go thrifting every day. And make apple muffins for breakfast, and hope that life will smooth itself out, because it usually does.

Peace out :)

I like to use the word 'freakishly'

I am occasionally overly optimistic, and freakishly committed to people who hurt me. It's an endearing quality in my mind, but it can put me in dangerous situations, situations that truly jeopardize my physical and emotional well-being. And then, on the flip side, is the reality that people we love will inevitably hurt us, and vice-versa!

One moment in my life that I will never forget is this awful fight (years ago) I had with my best friend. She was yelling, calling names. I was crying, begging her to stop. I was hurt, disappointed, and totally confused. She loved me. I loved her. How could something so awful happen (and it was awful)? That was a turning point for me in my ability to forgive, and in my ability to really see people three-dimensionally, and to accept that the people who love us will probably hurt us more than anyone else, and it's up to us to decide what to do about that. Do we throw away relationships after one horrible fight, or do we do the hard work of repairing?

After that fight, I've began to notice that close relationships aren't as perfect as I'd once imagined them to be (or fantasized about them being). For example, a few months ago, I had a total meltdown and yelled at a few friends in a not-so-kind way for trying to do something helpful for me. I had to get a major talking-to, and I had to eat it big time. For whatever reason, it was so difficult to admit that I was wrong. I had a right to be mad! They were wrong! But that wasn't what the situation was really about. It was about protecting relationships that mattered to me. And that was worth more than my ego.

Just something I'm chewing on today. Peace out :)

I say "oh dear lord" a lot.

Makes you wanna go outside and ride a bike, don' it?

Today was the one day a month that I wash my sheets, clean my bathroom, wash dishes, and go to estate sales. Yeah, I'm a boss like that. Anyhow, I bought nothing at the sales that I went to. High prices + houses full of grief = Ack! Get me outta here!

In one sale that I went to, they made sure I knew that they had had things appraised. They wanted me to know that as I looked through the jewelry, they knew how much it was worth, and they weren't going to let scary 'ol me cheat them out of any money they were owed. Yikes. There was a palpable feeling in the house, a feeling of anger. And I walked out the front door, I heard one woman mention her mother who had died, and whose belongings they were hawking selling.

Suddenly, it all made sense, the feeling in the house, and I was reminded of how important it is to not get yourself into situations where you're hanging on too tight to things, when what you really want to hang on to are people (or in some cases, dogs).

So yeah, life lesson of the day.

"This is my confession..."

Well, just like Usher said in that far-off, how-does-time-go-by-so-fast, year of 2004, this is my confession: I hate debt. I hate it so much. I was raised by a freakin' refugee, people. No wonder I'm so neurotic about money.

I almost didn't finish graduate school because I realized how much it was going to cost me. It felt wrong. It felt unethical. But I got a good talking-to by my parents, and recognized that money is money, and an education is priceless, and my earning potential, blah, blah, blah. I bought into it. And now I have a masters degree and I still live in a garage. Now I could probably live in a larger garage if I weren't working so hard to pay off my debt, but I really don't make that much money. I am, after all, working two jobs.

I'm figuring that it's going to take me a good five years to get out of this hole, and those are five impoverished years. Let's remember that I don't even eat meat. Frugal is my middle name. Oh the injustice of it all! But I digress. I had a freak-out today (this was earlier; obviously now I can form whole sentences), wherein I screamed at the heavens in the presence of a safe person, that life isn't fair, and sugar daddies, and selling my soul, and why-can't-the-world-not-suck-so-much. It's occasionally difficult to accept the lot of a sacrificial person, a supposedly voluntary sacrificial person. I mean, even the Apostle Paul had plenty! If or when that ever happens to me, I won't know what to do with it.

But in the meantime, I will continue to be my thrifty self, shop at discard food places (shut up haters), and recycle like nobody's business.

Peace out.

Laziness & Photographing Textiles

Vintage Vera Neumann Curtain - A Rare Find!

So I have a ridiculous procrastinating habit with photographing textiles. They're so big! So yesterday, I faced my fear and did a bunch all at once, just laid them in the driveway in the early morning light, and shot the hell out of them. Yeah, so it's not professional, but it got the job done, and in the end, that's really all that matters.

In my professional, non-eBay life, I deal a lot with the term laziness. People tell me that they don't/can't do something because they're "lazy". And in response, without fail, I say, "Bull. Laziness doesn't exist. Find another word." It's my shtick. It's my higher self speaking, because in my darker moments, I am just as likely to think those same things about myself. But I don't want to be a person that ever talks about myself that way. Would I say that to a friend in a condescending way? Would I insult them like that, or would I be understanding and acknowledge their weariness/exhaustion/pain and need for rest? Probably the latter.

Calling yourself "lazy" is a cop-out. It's the end of the sentence. Nothing can follow it. It prevents you from digging deeper and figuring out what's really going on. It prevents you from acknowledging your own humanness and forgiving yourself from being imperfect and a non-superhero.

So forgive yourself already and take a nap.

Word.

Thriftspiration.

El Vaquero Valerio Giuntoli boots - booyah :) Pretty freakin' awesome.

Do you like how big the photo is? Do ya? Do ya? You're welcome.

So in an effort to discover the origin of these freakin' awesome boots, I ended up on Italian eBay, looking at shoes, and boy was that a good time. They were all so colorful! I wish I had a ton of money to spend on shoes.

Why aren't we all buying more Italian leather shoes? I found these blue leather heels. They were unlike anything I'd ever seen, and they made me drool. What can I say? Even I, the lover of trash and all things used, can easily get drawn in to consumerist lust. Seriously, I cannot contain my glee, so I'll share it with you: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 (oh, and I can't resist - 6).

I am spending the weekend probably reading scandalous literature to my mother in the hospital. If I don't keep her adequately entertained, I imagine that she will be more prone to sexually harassing cute young male orderlies/nurses/doctors and blaming it on the morphine. I take it upon myself to be a buffer - not in a codependent way, just in an effort to have more men in my life.

Peace out mofos :)

Online Dating Update #4

Sandra Boynton mug :)

Okay, so I haven't given an online dating update because I suddenly feel very vulnerable writing about what has been going on. Suddenly I'm extra nervous about people reading my blog, and people finding my blog. A few months ago, I found out that a very unpleasant person was reading my blog and then using it to manipulate me. That was enough for me, but now this is different. This is new and scary and should I have a pen name? Should I change the name of my shop and blog so that I do a better job concealing my identity? Yikes. Ack! Anxiety! Waking up at 6:30 every morning with dark circles under my eyes!

Phew, okay. That's all you get.

Online Dating Update #3

Heath mug - looks like it needs a matching saucer.

So now I'm a roll. I have fun things to tell you.

1. I've now been matched with people I know, and that is strange in and of itself, but also interesting. Do I try to communicate with people I know and already have preconceived notions about? Or do I play it safe and stay away from what I know is not a good fit for me?
2. I didn't answer one guy's questions because I wasn't interested, and he sent me a message that said, "Why are you so thrifty?" I think he was trying to be smart, by saying in not so many words, "Why are you playing it safe?" but it didn't sound so great to me.
3. Another guy emailed me directly, saying "Hey Megan! How was your weekend? Mine was great! I went swimming and hung out with my friends! Do you have friends?..." It went on for a bit. It felt really familiar and I didn't like that.
4. Greatest passion in life? "Jesus Christ my Lord and Savior".  Where do you spend your leisure time? "At church, hanging out with Jesus". What are you most thankful for? "Jesus dying for my sins". Thing you can't live without? "My bible, the book of Jesus."

Some Heath mugs are marked with a model number; not this one :(

And then there are the actual interactions.

A. A great guy, an artist by trade, but got me to thinking that I didn't want to entertain possibilities that would take me away from home. Maybe in the future, I will move away, but right now, I am here in a community that I love, and I'm not anywhere near ready to leave or travel for a relationship.
B. A somewhat "earthy" person who lives nearby. Interesting, not pathologically obsessed with Jesus. Good vibes. Not much to say now, but positive thus far :)

I think Sunday is the day for eHarmony. It seems like a lot happens. I myself am sitting on my bed watching old SNL episodes and looking at jobs. Right now I'm wondering if I should change my profile photo. It's currently a photo I took with my computer, and I don't know if I should have one taken by one of my many friends who enjoy taking photos.

Not enough makeup

Time travel with authentic Jacobean embroidery!

So over the past five years, I have worked myself into a continual semi-conscious state by putting myself through school - by myself. I never payed a cent for tuition; unfortunately, my government loans did all of that (ack, repayment!), but I did do the rest mostly by myself (minus some dollars here and there from scholarships and loan overflow). Boo-yah.

Unfortunately, this doesn't feel like such a big deal on the flip side. Now it feels like I'm some sort of hippie dreamer who wears used clothing and got a masters degree for fun. I don't wear enough makeup to be taken seriously. I swear everyone's teeth were whiter than mine at the ceremony on Saturday. I had a weird growth on my eyebrow. And then when it was all over, I ate a burger made of beets.

It really just couldn't get any worse.

It's too bad I'm not urban.

I am so enjoying my tiny little apartment. It's really too bad that it's not ideal for a long-term solution. The space itself is okay, but not having a kitchen is clearly a problem, as is being connected to someone else's garage. I'm starting to dream about a tiny little place of my own, but I think that a small place in a good location would be difficult to find. I think that there are a lot of mother-in-law places on my street, but I don't know if that would be a good long-term solution either. I want something that I can stay in. I want to have enough space for my stuff, and a little wiggle room, but not too much. I like to feel cozy.

I used to have a one bedroom place. It was a duplex. Later I lived in a studio which was also a duplex. I preferred the one bedroom. It was small, but very well organized. My kitchen was large enough to cook, and I had a washer and dry hooked up in there as well. The trouble with that place was that the landlords were ridiculous about the lawn, but refused to put in sprinklers. So in the end, it was a battle over me not wanting to water crab grass in 110 degree weather, and them wanting the crab grass to be green. I'd come home to a threatening hose on my front porch as a warning. Ridiculous.

I have a lot to say about landlords, and some things I've been thinking about in terms of ethics and city planning. Perhaps tomorrow...

Cheers!

Ideals vs. reality

Today was not a good day for me personally, but it was a pretty good thrifting day. I spent less, which is always great. I didn't take care of myself as well as I should, though. I'm losing steam, and making unwise decisions, or maybe I'm just being thrown complex problems. Who knows?

The dog and I are not a good fit. We're just not. But I'm caught between the ideal of never going back on an agreement, and the reality of a dog who needs a different structure to thrive.

Can someone bring me some ice cream? I think that ice cream would make me feel better.

I am not an alien.

 

When I was seven or eight (or nine?), at Sunday School, we were asked to draw what our life would look like when we were 26. I wrote that I would be a professional ballerina. That was what I wanted to be; I worked like a maniac to be that person, and it didn't work out. My body didn't have what I needed to go as far with dancing as I wanted to go. Then the same thing happened with swimming. My body didn't have what it took.

So now my life is different that I thought it would be. The faces are different from the old faces. The people who were in my life at ages seven, eight, and nine, are no longer in my everyday life. Not a one. And that is strange. I don't have all the markers people commonly have that remind them who they were, and how they became who they are. That disconnect is jarring sometimes. It's normal for a person in my situation, but it's still jarring.

I talk about this stuff a lot, because it's central to my everyday functioning. Sometimes I have to remind myself daily that I'm still real, that I'm a person. I am not an alien. I am not invisible.

The Bachelor is Slovenian!

 

The ultimate reality show about throwing people away: The Bachelor. Am I excited? Yes! And the ultimate plus of this season? The Bachelor is Slovenian!

Omg. I've just started watching the first episode and David Gray's This Year's Love is being played on the piano. Ridiculously ridiculous. Has a Bachelor ever made a relationship last? Nope. Ack! Now the bachelorettes are hating eachother! Delicious drama. Oh the things I will learn!

A relational non-savant

I didn't eat a terrible lot of pie over my holiday. I only had a couple pieces on Christmas day, and they were small. Mostly, I ate a ridiculous amount of Sees's Nuts & Chews. I feel no guilt. I even ate mostly milk chocolate, because they tasted better. I even think my digestion improved, even though my diet went downhill (absence of stress perhaps?). And whilst this was happening (i.e. the eating of the chocolates), I was watching football (not by choice) mixed with television marathons, which are my absolute favorite.

I have completely stopped watching Law & Order, even though it was available on multiple channels for hours on end. I just can't stand it. I think I was able to enjoy one episode that was just about burgling houses for silver, but I didn't even get to the end of it. Give me trash, smut, meaningless reality television. Give me The Bachelor, or anything with Kardashian in it. I feel no shame.

Plus I learn so much about relationships! For example, I learned that prior to marriage (emphasis on prior), a couple should discuss the following: religion, work, where to live, how to live, how many children, how they will be raised, where they will be raised, etc. Thank you Ryan Seacrest for producing these educational materials for me, a relational non-savant.

What have the Kardashians taught you lately?

Vulnerability...the true monster

Love with your whole heart, even when there is no guarantee. Be grateful; to feel vulnerable is to feel alive. And always remember, you're enough.

Those are not easy things to do, so read that list through a few times before you walk away.

Shame in me

Shame is an awful thing. I can feel it in my chest. It's like a fist grabs my heart, and then wrenches it to the right. Ouch.

I am feeling shame at this very moment, and I am trying to talk myself through it. I feel the shame of a little kid who is tattling, something I don't directly remember doing, but imagine I did quite often. Doing the right thing is very important to me. And when I see it out there, possible, I want to grab it and make it mine. I want to own the essence of being right. I want to own it and let it define me. I want to be right. I want to be right. I want to be right. Ad infinitum...

Being right makes us feel safe. It makes us feel in control. When that is questioned, when we make small mistakes, we are struck with the uninvited wrenching fist in the chest.

I have to talk to myself often, remind myself that I am fallible, remind myself that I cannot know the right and perfect way to do everything. All I have is myself, and whatever faculties are available in that particular moment.

In all reality, I am human and flawed, and I never do the right thing. But so are you, so at least we're all in this thing together.

Nothing you can own...

"And I realised, there is nothing, anyone can really own"

That's the line that made me post the song. I get more out of it every time I listen to it.

I have a friend who is going through an unbelievably hard time right now; and it just keeps getting worse, like a Peter Sellers movie where nothing goes right (e.g. The Party). I keep thinking that life is just about holding on, that we have no control over what happens, over what other people do. All we have is how we choose to respond to the shit in our lives that falls in droves from the sky.

Oh yeah, and suicide isn't an option, because it just kills more people and keeps the death spiral going. Sucks, don't it?

Life sucks. But at least it's long, right?