where do i begin to tell the story of how great a love can be

i got my hairs cut and they are quite short! tattoos on monday!!!

i've decided that the next pet i get will be named ampersand. take that, pica!!

and on a completely unrelated note, excerpts from an article in the philadelphia inquirer on stripping:

Do strippers have a First Amendment right to do that thing they do? Apparently not.
The decision came Tuesday in the case of an Atlantic City go-go bar, the Moulin Rouge, that was cited three years ago for violating New Jersey's lewdness standards.
"The courts in New Jersey have described lewdness as... 'erotic excitation,' whatever the hell that means," said Daniel A. Silver, a First Amendment lawyer from Connecticut who argued on behalf of the Moulin Rouge.
Dancers at the Moulin Rouge - like those at all New Jersey go-go bars that serve alcohol - may strip down only to a bikini. Silver noted, respectfully, that the Third Circuit had inaccurately described the Moulin Rouge as a "topless" bar."I don't consider this a strip club if they're wearing a bathing suit," Silver said yesterday before boarding his boat, the Free Speech, in the Long Island Sound.
"If a dancer in a bikini touches her breast and that's considered lewd, then she can't dance. She has to just stand there."

and i'm posting this because i find all of this highly comical. nipples! oh my good lord, cover up those nipples before the great moral fiber of our beloved country desinigrates! good sweet jebus...
i also find this hilarious for relatively obvious arrested development references

this morning i awoke to the sush nuzzling down into the covers next to me. upon entering he left the door open and i could hear my aunt's voice wafting up from the kitchen. i went downstairs to have breakfast and was talking to my mom, and i asked her what aunt terry was doing here, and she told me that she had to drop something off and mentioned something about how she wanted to travel with my mom. this is something along the lines of the conversation that ensued:
mom: since i certainly don't want to travel with your aunt, i recommended that she travel with mary fran & beth. you know about mary fran and her, you know, friend beth, right?
me: yes mom. and it's her girlfriend. they're gay mom, and you don't have to whisper the word gay.
mom: oh, yes, right, ok.

from my bed i could hear snippets of their conversation. my aunt said that she didn't want to travel with her daughter because she was uncomfortable with her daughter being gay and living with someone she's committed herself to for years. she said something like 'i do not approve of it, and i have a really hard time accepting it and her father doesn't accept it at all.' and my mom said well she's your daughter and you love her whether she's gay or a serial killer or whatever. (yes, my mother compared loving a gay son or daughter to loving a serial killer) and my aunt's reply was something like 'well it's one thing to accept them in a general sense, but it's totally different when it's your own child. i don't know what i did wrong'

my heart is a worried thing

i've been writing lately...



object & master of this not quite male gaze
my singles pay the bills of your electric sex
cut with thick smoke and thicker stares
inside my cubicle
cheap plywood walls drip
with desires of previous patrons
hands on knees that bounce
shots of anxiety chased with cheap foamy beer
slides past my lips in single-serve cups
pupils dilate
eyes roll back
as we dance
inhale your candy apple skin
& evaporate into the sweaty blue light

----------------

i've smashed you
into a thousand tiny pieces in my mind
but i can't seem to find my shoes
so these bloody footprints
follow me wherever i go
because your memory
is sharp as glass
and this tough exterior is just a facade
thinly veiling a soul
that very badly wants to forget
your bitter taste

---------------

i'm feeling rather cranky and cynical today... maybe it's the heat. maybe i just need to get the hell out of this place for good. seattle can't come soon enough.

i've also been feeling rather reclusive lately. i'm bored with casual conversations with people i have little in common with. i'm tired of listening to people talk about inane shit i don't care about just so i have someone to talk to. i want to make new friends. i'm tired of lying in bed at night waiting to fall asleep because i'm not tired. i feel like a prisoner in my house, a zombie completely devoid of emotion. i miss real connections with people i love. i want to fall in love, be heart broken, laugh until i hurt, dance in my underwear just because i feel like dancing, cry, bleed, create... all those other beautiful/painful signs that one is indeed alive. i just feel numb and i'm sick of it. equilibrium is boring. i'm terrified of stagnating. i need change.

speaking of change, i made an appointment today to be tattooed on monday which i'm quite excited about. i'm going to do the ribbon with 'i defy you, stars' on my ankle and 'veritas vos liberabit' in gotham on the back of my neck. so i'm stoked about these changes. i also need another hair cut. and i believe i'm leaving for seattle on the 28th or the 29th depending on whether anne's coming or not.

change is on the horizon. just a wee bit longer...

she

She
Beauty transcendent
Vanilla swirl soft serve
Freckled with sprinkles of Roy G. Biv

Eyes of sea and sky and star that pierce
Sing out like lighthouse beacons
Beckoning me home
Cuts through this fog of thoughts
Permeating the folds of this subconscious mind

Fragmentize
Analyze
Synthesize
Those eyes
Of pale green or blue, or is it aqua marine
The gods have yet to invent a name for a color
That is all color at once
Conducting an orchestra of smell, taste, touch, light, sound
To a crescendo of senses that ebb and swell

Redwood
I would wear each of your rings around my fingers
Beyond eternity
Scribes would spin tales of a love so epic
Chiseling our names on the walls of cathedrals

To dream of a kiss
Late summers’ blackberries
Drenched in heavy cream
The taste still whets my lips when I

Wake
Blink

On a pillow stained black
Ink blots of mascara
Tears slid sideways
Tearing ditches
Cheek bone, nose, to cheek bone
Needing stitches
And I wipe and wipe and wipe
But some stains never fade

Patient diagnosis: terminally ill
Warrior, casualty of love
Born A.D. 83
Died sometimes, somewhere far away
Awash in a sea of her own desire

And somewhere between
Wake sleep wake
A realization
Of this
Fantasy

But when one dreaming minute
Equates to lifetimes
We exist
If only in that lifetime

Blink

all good things must turn to grey

for the past week or so, i've been sleeping until about noon. yesterday i woke up to my phone ringing. it was laney. she called to say that she was sorry that we didn't get to hang out before we left school. i said i was also sorry, that i missed her. i asked her how she was doing, and she said not so well. her twin sister got in a car accident on the highway a few days ago... they didn't have a positive ID on the body, but it was her car, and they pulled a female out of the car.

everything went numb. i said i'm so sorry and i cried. we cried together. while i'd only met leslie once, laney talked about her all the time. they were twins and best friends. when someone dies, it is the living that bear the burdon of the loss. i relized that i was crying not necessarily for leslie so much as laney. when she came into the DO she was shy and withdrawn. leyla and i took her under our wing and watched her grow as both a designer and a person. we became good friends. laney used to help me with my advertising concepts. i realized i was crying because i've always wanted to protect laney. i didn't want her to have to experience a world that wouldn't be as kind, patient and understanding as the environment we tried to foster in our design office. while i lost my nonnie earlier this year, i can't even begin to imagine what she's going through right now... i've fealt numb since yesterday.

i read about the accident online. traffic had slowed down on the highway, and a logging truck slammed into 8 vehicles. leslie's was the first to be hit. laney said she just hoped that she didn't see it coming, that she didnt' feel any pain. the article said the driver hit the cars because he wasn't paying attention. i wonder if he realized when he said that that he had blood on his hands. that because he wasn't paying attention, laney lost the one person that was more important to her than anyone else in the world. in one of the articles they quoted laney:

A woman reached at the Bentz home said Leslie Bentz was her twin sister. The family was not ready to talk about the accident yesterday, she said. "She was a wonderful sister, the best sister you would ever meet in your life," she said.

laney said you can't be a twin without two... but i'll always be a twin.

i want to hug her, and protect her. i don't want her to feel this kind of pain... no one should have to feel this kind of pain.

laney said she wanted me to know that she really looked up to me, and that she learned a lot from me. that she loved me and missed me. she said that she thought of me because you never know when something like this could happen and that you have to appreciate the people that you love every day. i instantly thought of leyla and jamie.

i called jamie first. i needed to hear her voice, to know that she was ok. something about experiencing this kind of event made me super aware of the people around me, the ones that are still in my life and the relationships that have faded away. i realized life is very fragile and death is very perminent.

i didn't know if i should call leyla, but i thought that she deserved to know and i didn't know if laney would call her. her voice seemed distant. i couldn't tell if she was apathetic or if she was just uncomfortable because i'd called. i said i don't know where you are or what you're doing, and i don't know if you want to go but there's a memorial service this week. she said i would like to go but i'm kinda on the opposite side of the country, and she kind of chuckled. i thought that was really strange, but i figured it was just because she was nervous. i didn't ask what she was doing or how she was doing, and neither did she. i said ok well i'm gonna go, and she said i'll talk to you soon...

i called jared. he agreed that we should send flowers and maybe set up some kind of memorial fund in leslie's name. he sent me an email with information about the services. at the end he said: I'm sorry for every mean thing I ever did or said to you. Know that I won't remember college for a split second without you.

one night at the DO laney slammed her mouse hand in one of the windows. i gave her some ice and a stale circus peanut to make her feel better. she told me later that she still has it. when i was cleaning my room out today i found a marshmallow virgin mary statue under my desk. i'm going to bring it for her, and i hope it will at least make her giggle.

meredith, amy and i are going to go to the services on wednesday. i hope that in being there, we can help laney get through this... i don't really know what else we can do besides be there for her. this isn't the kind of pain that goes away any time soon...

it's a wonderful night, c'mon and break it on down

today kat im'd me and said that she'd looked at my facebook photos from last night, and she wasn't sure if i was intoxicated or whatever, but i looked really really happy. i told her that i was not intoxicated at all. and i realized that people have told me that a lot lately. not just people i know really well, but random friends have said 'wow you are so bubbly and happy!' and i realized that how i feel lately is sooo sooo different from the beginning of the semester. i'm not sure i've ever been this happy, actually. i go out and i don't feel socially awkward or uncomfortable... i smile more, and i find myself walking through places like the grocery store dancing and singing to myself...


i think about jamie and how she's come into my life so intensely & quickly. i know that i wouldn't have healed so quickly from all the shit i went through at the first half of the semester if she hadn't been around, and i'm so grateful for her friendship. she makes me strong and brave. and not just when i'm with her, but when she's not around too. it's amazing how i've seen such an amazingly positive change in my life since she's been around... and i love her for this and other reasons, like the excessive use of the word 'amazing' in her vocabulary, how she smiles and says the word pink after i say it, her half smile & her little giggles

i think about the future and the things that i want to accomplish and i feel invinceable & unstoppable. it's an incredible feeling that usually leads to me smiling to myself...

tito came to visit this weekend, and i took him to hang out with jamie and her room mates last night. we grilled marshmallows and burgers with her room mates and took lots of happy pictures. all of jamie's room mates are amazing and really nice to me. i feel very comfortable around them, and lee, molly and erin rock my world. then we went to this party and tito, jamie and i ended up sitting on the floor talking about the social relevence of pornography and whether it's detrimental to society. i love connections with people. i love sitting down with someone who will contemplate just about anything with me... jamie and i do that a lot. and these are the things i live for: connections.

jamie and i were talking about our most recent works, her screen prints and my final photo project. and we realized how much each of us has affected the others work. that's also been a pretty amazing realization. i don't think i ever would have been comfortable making such a bold feminist statement with the 'war' series had it not been for her. the concept was almost directly derived from her thesis on the social construction of womens bodies. and her screen prints have become much more graphic and single minded. it's pretty incredible how the people we surround ourselves with can either have such a tremendous detrimental or positive effect on one's life... amazing...

i don't think about the stuff that used to get me down anymore... my head doesn't punish me by dwelling on bad thoughts. the people i've lost cross my mind, but the grief is fading and i'm left with the happy memories and an acceptance of that loss. i understand that everything comes full circle.

i was sitting on my porch the other night by myself smoking and smiling to myself (i find that i do this a lot these days), and andy actually crossed my mind. the memory of him was, probably for the first time ever, not accompanied by a flood of malicious memories. i thought about how i could probably sit down and eat a meal with him and not want to punch him in the face for what he did to me.


i am healing
and it feels amazing

we can go our separate ways if you want to

so i woke up this morning and wrote a song. this is a big deal because i haven't written a song in a very long time. when i told tito about the song, i told him that i've always written from sadness or loss and this is the same case with this song. he asked me if i would rather have song writing or my friend back. i said song writing is nice, but i do miss my friend a whole lot more than i ever missed writing songs...
i told him that was quite a bittersweet way of looking at the situation...
and this is what i wrote



dawn breaks
and i'm staring at the ceiling tiles
thinking of you again
wondering where you have gone

i think
was it me or was it you
and i know
it's somewhere inbetween
somewhere inbetween give and take
we lost our balance
and fell in two directions

sometimes
i forget the present
and get lost in the past
thinking all this is just a temporary state
of tug of war

but i've said too much
and you not enough
though three little words are all it would take
to bring down these walls
to carry us home

so come to me
come come home to me
and i will carry you
if you will carry me
before it's too late
or is it too late

dawn breaks
and i'm staring at the ceiling tiles
and sometimes i miss you
and sometimes not at all
but today
i'm thinking of you again
wondering where you have gone

cuz i've said too much
and you not enough
and could three little words be all it would take
to bring down these walls
and carry us home

i miss you
and i love you
and i'd like you to come on home
do you miss me
do you love me
would you like me to come on home?

so come to me
come come home to me
and i will carry you
if you will carry me
before it's too late
or is it too late

this is what it means to be a woman

the other day i was riding down the street on my long board. a car full of dudes drove by and screamed 'get on the sidewalk you fucking bitch!' i responded by flipping both my middle fingers into the air and doing a little dance as i rode.

the 'you fucking bitch' part seemed pretty unnecessary to me. it seemed to allude to the fact that these guys didn't seem to think it's acceptable for a woman to be riding a skateboard.

most of you will probably stop reading several words into the next paragraph. but i suppose i challenge you to consider ideas you might not have possibly considered otherwise.

from the time we're born, everyone is told by the media, by our parents, by our social and cultural norms, how we should behave. both men and women. for women, there's a pretty specific yet rather contradictory set of rules that we're supposed to follow in order to be women. we should be simultaneously strong yet nurturing. soft and curvy yet physically fit with 6 pack abs. we should have large breasts that we're supposed to show off (but not too much cuz then you're a whore) and tiny wastes. we're expected to be monogomous but sexually knowledgeable. our magazines give us such pertinant information as '10 ways to please your man and he'll be yours forever!' we need to know how to cook, clean, be smart (but not too smart), and have a career where we will automatically make less than a man because of our gender while we raise the children.

my friend kochis and i had a debate about abortion a while ago. he argued that we use abortion as a form of birth control and that we're not responsible for the consequences of our actions, ie if you have sex you should expect children. i argued that for centuries, it has been socially acceptable for men to have sex regardless of the consequences. it was deemed natural for them to fuck whoever they wanted and weren't expected to stick around to help raise the children. biologically, men are not physically constructed to be responsible for their actions. they are not the ones with the overies and the uterus. when a women gets pregnant as a result of having sex with a man, she is the one left solely with that responsiblity: the life of another person. the advent of contraception again made it the man's choice to impregnant the woman or not. he's the one who can wear the condom or not. he has that choice. i guess you can argue that the choice the woman has is whether to engage in sex or not. but often times that doesn't seem to be the case. whether through direct pressure from the guy or from social pressures that this is what we're supposed to do, sex is something we're supposed to simultaneously want and yet abstain from. not too little, not too much. seems either way we're fucked. but i digress.

the option of abortion puts control in the womans hands. she has the final say as to whether or not she will raise a child. it levels the playing ground. it allows her to take the same stance as the man, decide why she is having sex, and have a child or not. she is in control in a game we have little control over.

my favorite matt finley cartoon was about the plan b debate. it said plan a: and had a drawing of a shark on a stick. then it said plan b: and had a drawing of a coat hanger. plan c was a noose. at the bottom there was a little asterisk that said *you're beautiful baby

we're raised to think that sex is something we should want, and something we should give men. i saw something on dateline about girls in elementary school who are giving blow jobs because it makes boys like them. parents and teachers are appauled and shocked. i'm not so shocked. it is a product of our social structure, and we have created these little girls. we have raised them to think that this is what they should do. this is what it means to be a woman.

i grew up playing with legos and dirt. i ran around in the woods and got bruises on my legs. i played with dolls, but not barbies. i played 'house' with my cousins. i was never specifically told what it was to be a woman. but late elementary school into middle school, my peers made it abundanlty clear that whatever it was that i was doing, that i'd been doing for my whole life, wasn't it. i was made fun of for not wearing a bra even though i had nothing to put in a bra until my junior year in high school. the notion of a 'training bra' amuses me to no end. 'training.' we didn't talk about sex or 'womanly' issues when i was growing up. i remember the first time i asked my mom if i could shave my legs, becuase i was the only girl in gym class with hairy blonde legs, she flipped out telling me i didn't need to shave my legs. i just wanted them to stop making fun of me.

becky told me one day in middle school a group of girls, probably the same 'popular' ones i tried so desperately to be friends with and fit in with, stuck a bunch of pads to the outside of my locker. she removed them before i could see them. to them, i was not a woman.

i remember starting to like boys, and they wanted nothing to do with me. my first boyfriend broke up with me because his friends told him i wasn't pretty enough. i was heart broken. i thought there was something wrong with me. i realize now it wasn't me, it was them. to them, i did not comply with their notions of what a girl was.

i've never been with a man who i didn't feel was objectifying me in one way or another. it's never been about me. it's always been about them. always.

there's been this wave of sexual liberation in the wake of the sex & the city thing. we exclaim, 'it's my body and i'm gonna sleep with whoever i want and have sex and that's what makes me happy!' and as a concept, that's great. the idea of a sexually liberated woman who can essentially view sex as men have for centuries is awesome. but it's practically speaking, it's impossible. no matter how much control we think we have over the situation, we are never in control. because in the end, he can walk away and we are left with the consequences of our actions, emotionally and physically. eventually, we will feel dirty and used. and we blame ourselves. i don't know if we can ever be truly sexually liberated in the same way men are.

today jamie and julia and i were talking about how biologically, we're constructed right from the start to 'not be whole'. we are literally structured to be a receptical, and we are then socially constructed to be emotionally and physically incomplete without a man. not another person, a man. because he is the only one that can fill our void.

i very recently learned about the word heteronormativity. it means: Those punitive rules (social, familial, and legal) that force us to conform to hegemonic, heterosexual standards for identity. The term is a short version of "normative heterosexuality." i listed the definition because if you try to look it up in the dictionary you won't find it. i wonder who writes the websters dictionary? so not only should we be all these things as woman, but you're automatically assumed to be straight, though that goes for women and men.

our language is extremely gendered. we call something we don't like, or something we think is stupid 'gay' because gay is bad. gay (in men) means effeminate, and the feminine is always less than the masculine. my sister says gay all the time and fails to see this, no matter how many times i try to explain this to her.

i looked feminist up in the dictionary, and mr webster told me that a feminist is an adjective and is of or relating to or advocating equal rights for women. so at least they got that one right. but socially, it's to declare ones self as a radical hater of men, and is definitely not seen as a good thing to be calling yourself.

the other day kat and i were talking about our childhoods and how cruel kids can be. i guess it's a natural product of the development of the id, the part of us that is only capable of thinking about our own worlds. can we hold these kids responsible if their behavior is directly tied to their physiological development? i don't really know. i guess it would be nurture fighting nature...

i watched cartoons with my young cousins when i was home. i realized that i didn't ejoy these cartoons nearly as much as i did the ones we watched when we were kids. they're extremely fast paced, all the kids scream and they have extremely uninteresting story lines. i can still watch the cartoons that i watched when i was a kid today. we talked about the themes we see in cartoons today: violence, super powers, and slapstick humor which i guess aren't a far cry from what cartoons have always been. none of these cartoons seemed to be saying anything of substance. i wondered what if there was a cartoon that taught kids not to be cruel to each other. what if through entertainment, we could educate them on how to be kind, caring, and generous, though i guess this is what things like sesame street try to teach. but that target audience is too young... we need something 'cooler' for older kids. i said 'kat, i smell a comm design project!' and she said she was done with those and she couldn't wait to have someone tell her what to do. she's ready to be a mac monkey for a while, and i don't blame her. but i digress...

i guess my idea kind of reminds me of the nicktoon 'doug'. he was just a normal kid with an imagination doin normal kid things. i wish the media were more socially conscious. we have this tremendous vehicle for disseminating information and instead of using it to free each other, we use it to bind and oppress. this is how you should look, act, walk, talk, wear and if you don't, you're outta the club and we're gonna laugh at you. adult-hood isn't a far cry from childhood. i want to use my knowledge of design and advertising to infiltrate the crap with good stuff!

if you've read this far, and i can assume most have stopped after the third paragraph, you're probably wondering why i'm 'bitching' about all of this. i've had a lot on my mind lately. and i hope that my words and my actions spark at least some kind of thought. challenge the stereotypes and constructs that are ingrained in us and inspire us to speak up about whatever it is that we believe in. in the end though, i think we all want the same thing: a home where we can be loved and accepted, and a greater web of a community that also accepts and loves us while accepting us as individuals as well. nothing will change if no one does anything. i guess that means you and me...

sush hates cell phones

so it wasn't even noon and these are the events that have ensued thus far:

1.) i woke up early and couldn't fall back asleep. sush was cuddled at a very aesthetically pleasing angle in my armpit so i laid in bed for a while, not wanting to rouse him. when the blinds are down and the pigeons fly through the alley, they make really amazing shadows that i see on the blinds... i would like to take a picture of this, but the pigeons aren't very reliable subjects.

2.) miss kat woke up and promptly puked in her trash can. i did not know she was doing this, so as she was exiting the front door i asked her if she was doing laundry for some reason... i think it's cuz i have a shirt that needs washing. so she told me she'd puked and i fealt stupid for asking her about the laundry.

3.) i went into the kitchen to make myself a bagel. i put the bagel in the microwave (not evil) to thaw it. as i placed it in the toaster (pure evil) i said to myself 'now megan, don't walk away and forget about this bagel because you know what happens when you forget about things in the toaster.' so i go into my room and sit down in front of my computer and decide that now is the time to make myself a photoshop droplet! so i basically completely forget abot the bagel. that is, until the smell of 'bagel' wafts into my room, and i yell 'fuck!' and run into the kitchen, continuing to yell 'fuck' through the smoke that is now burning my eyes. as i pass kat's door i hear her say 'miss meg?' thank god our fire alarrms work, and by thank god i mean thank god they didn't start making that really irritating beeping noise to warn us of our imminent death!!!

because the rule we've learned about the toaster is 'if you can smell it, it's probably burned.' (same rule applies to the poop box: if you can smell it, it probably needs to be scooped) so the good bagel smell was followed by a very foul bagel smell and a whole hell of a lot of smoke. i open the toaster and there are two small flaming brickettes inside. we don't have a fire extinguisher, so i do the first thing that comes to mind: blow. note: this is not the first time i have had to do this. we open all the windows and attempt to air out the smoke. we then proceed to remove the 'bagel' from the toaster. it is making noises and is really silly looking, so of course we find it necessary to photograph it for posterity's sake. kat declares that we will now end any bad story with the words 'and then meg lit a bagel on fire'. we will start a bagel/english muffin photo graveyard and put pictures up on the wall with little photoshopped halos on them. we giggle and continue to pose with bagel. RIP blueberry bagel...

4.) several minutes later, kat returned to the bathroom to throw up again. this time, she is also exploding from her other end as well. i think i'm going to start putting pepto bismol in all of her foods. i think there is someone, somewhere floating on a cloud that does not want her to graduate. so we're gonna take that little fucker and put him in the toaster and then i'm gonna go make myself a few photoshop droplets.
MWOOOHAHAHAHAHA!!!

and this all happened before noon.

you'll never feel the heat of this soul

i'm peacing out, she said
later, i said
i watched her out of the corner of my eye
leave her bag on the table as she walked out the door
she came back into the room
i walked up to her and asked her about her project
i couldn't help but think my photography has influenced her ideas

i wonder if she realizes this
i wonder if she'll think of me when she takes the photos
i wonder if she's trying to hold onto something she valued in me
probably not

she pulled out a cloth and wiped her glasses
i watched her hands as she spoke
small, soft
trembling
the same hands i've held
the same hands that have held me
comforted me
as i've cried so many times
a product of the sacred, unique bond we'd shared
and watched unravel

i watched her mouth as she spoke
can't bring myself to look into her eyes
those eyes, so wide
that used to sparkle into my own
and made me believe in myself
and in her
the electricity that used to flow between us is all but gone

i looked up
into her eyes
they were watery, glassy
her voice trembled as she spoke
she seemed to be holding something back
i think she had left to cry in the bathroom
so i would not see
i had cried for weeks, months
over the disintegration of our memories
mourning a loss of something that was once so beautiful
now fades to steely grey

i'm not sure what she was upset about
she won't, can't, tell me
maybe it was me, or nothing to do with me at all
maybe it was her realization of what she'd lost
maybe it was allergies
maybe it was a realization that i am happy
can be happy, without her
something i haven't been in three years

maybe she realized that i don't need her
that i can form new friendships
that i can move on
that the ties of love are strong
but can be undone

isn't this what she asked for?

maybe she realized that for once i was serious
i can not care about her anymore
can not bear my soul
to someone who neglects and mistreats that beauty
and truth
that glows like a super nova

maybe i was cold, indifferent
was i cruel?
'i want to live life and never be cruel'

we'd overturned rocks and leaves and city sidewalks
in search of what was real

i guess in the end my reality is different from hers

i wish i could say that i wanted to take her in my arms
like i've done so many times before
tell her everything is ok
that i am sorry
that i love her
that i'll never give up
and everything is ok
but i can't anymore

can't let you in
can't let you in

and i can't ask her what's wrong
can't reach out to her
she must learn to reach out herself
and to reach out to others when they are in pain
asking for help is an admittance of a fault she can not bear
i can not lose another piece of myself to this battle

i look at the pictures of us together
there must be hundreds by now
i remember the day i im'd her to tell her
i couldn't stop crying when i'd look at them
she told me well then don't look at them
and that she had to go
i couldn't stop crying
that was the day i went home
and laid my head on nonnie's pillow and watched her die
my mom said maybe her cruelty was a blessing in disguise
i wouldn't have gone home had i not been so upset about her

today, the same pictures make me smile and laugh
they are a reminder of a time past that was happy
what is done is done, what is gone is gone
but nothing can take those memories away
and hopefully they will wash away the bad memories
i will keep them somewhere safe inside

i ask her where her voice has gone
the one that sang so brilliantly
the one that drove and inspired both of us for so long
she offers no reply

and i realize that voice was mine all along
the voice i'd loved was my own

she will have to travel her own path
feel her own pain
feel her own joy
make her own mistakes
wage her own wars
and wear her own scars

i can not protect her forever

our paths have divereged
and i will go on alone
but i will stand tall
singing and dancing to my own rhythm
the drum beat of the earth, sea & streets
and she will have to find her own voice
among the stars

and maybe one day our voices will ring together
in beautiful harmony

all that we can't say is all we need to hear

she walks in my door like a burst of light
radiating, strong and bright
her eyes clear like water
deep and blue
intense like a thunderstorm
her smile matches the intensity of her gaze
i am happy

i wonder what it is that draws us to people
why we connect with some instantaneously
and others never
why some connections fade away
and some stay strong until the day we die

the other day i thought about connections
how we are all tied together
i thought about how we pass each other every day
lost inside our own shell
ignoring everyone around us
for fear we may catch a glance
and be forced to share a piece of ourselves
with a complete stranger
a risk, a chance
a fear of rejection

i thought about how our minds are capable of bending time
stretching it out
a touch, glance or exchange of words
can seem infinite in length
when processed through our minds eye

i find these are the things i remember more than anyything else
things that are the most painful to remember
that i bring out briefly
only to be carefully tucked back inside
somewhere safe, dark
your smile, laughter
the way it fealt to look you in the eye
the comfort of sitting silently for hours
exchanging thoughts wordlessly

we can no longer feel
or no longer wish to feel
what has been fealt
both unwilling to reach out
the fear takes hold, inhibits and binds

new memories are of walls being formed
bridges burned
faces and hearts turn to stone
hardened by pain
numbness has become a friend to us both

wrap me up

began an end today
gave and got given
you made a friend today
kindred soul cracked spirit
it has to end to begin

i've been hesitant to post my thoughts lately... not really sure why.

i feel like i'm completely ready for this chapter of my life to end. i need to leave this place and go somewhere new. i need to break the cycles i'm in here. i'm ready for this change.

the other day this was my away message:
hold me
wrap me up
i am small
and needy
warm me up
and breathe me

daver said that sounded like i was a burrito. a very needy burrito. i miss daver.

i got a new monitor the other day. it makes me feel as though i'm piloting a rocket ship... it seems to have cured my gnome posture though.

what is a heart worth if it's just left all alone?
leave it long enough and watch it turn into stone
why must we always be untrue?

there is a new threadless shirt that i would really like. it shows a bunch of little hand drawn stars, and each one has words next to it. it says:
wished for more time
wished my car would start
wished i could fly
wished i was happier
wished i could be invisible
wished i had a puppy
wished you'd forget me
wished i had said something more clever
wished we kept in touch
wished i had witty comebacks
i wished for you

i've wished for some of those things...

nothing's ever promised tomorrow today

i recently looked at the photos from the day nonnie died, and they are much more haunting than the first few days i shot her... i chose this one to use as part of a photo project on composite digital imagery i've been working on...

an illusion is hope born from fear

i'd like to wake up wrapped in blankets and limbs
tangled in the space between sleep and wake

i'd like to reach out and feel you next to me
feel your heart beat on my cheek

i'd like to curl my toes around your feet
blur the line where you end and i begin

i'd like to watch you breathe
feel the covers rise between us

i'd like to fall asleep with my head on your arm
knowing you'll be there when my eyes open

i'd like to trace your finger tips
and memorize them in my mind

i'd like to have an excuse to lie in bed for hours
with nothing to do but talk and touch

i'd like to run my fingers through your hair
until i fall asleep

i'd like to kiss your lips
and know the feeling is real, true

i'd like to love you
whoever you may be
wherever you may be

they said i shot a man down in reno, but that was just a lie

so i was sitting in my room last night and i had some thoughts i
figured i'd share with you...

an angie stone song came on, and i realized how long it'd been since i
heard it. i realized i haven't listened to any hip hop in a long time,
and that i'd been skipping anything that came up on my itunes... i was
curious to know if you'd stopped listening to music you associate with
me

i was sitting on the counter at work, listening to npr and some song
came on and i started wiggling back and forth on the counter. i
realized that i hadn't danced in weeks...

last night anne was supposed to call me after work and we were going
to go to mezzanotte to see division by zero. she never called. i
really wanted to see the band, but i also kind of just wanted to loaf
around my apartment, so when she didn't call i got excited that i had
a whole hour of the daily show/colbert report to watch and then
decided i was just going to chill out. i listened to angie
stone and danced by myself in my room...

when i was talking to my mom the other night, she was trying to figure
out why i've gotten to be they way i am, and why i don't feel like my
mom loves me enough. i realized i'd been placing all the blame on her,
since my dad had practically no part in my emotional upbringing. then
she said, i just feel very badly because you've gone through some
terrible things and i can't even imagine how they've affected you...

i thought about the shit that happened when i was little, and all of
the guilt and blame i associate with that part of my life. i'm sure
that has a lot to do with my issues of self worth, and my inability to
love myself. i don't know how i heal those wounds.

the other day in therapy i mentioned something about how no one has
ever been able to love me the way i've wanted, why is that? and then i
was like, oh yea that's right it's cuz i dont' know how to love
myself... got it!

i almost feel guilty, like a lot of this has been indirectly my fault,
but i know i shouldn't feel guilty either. we all carry our own demons
with us, i guess, and at least i may be able to finally put some of
them to rest, and be a better person than i was before all of this
happened.

when i started pre-school, i used to cry every time my mom dropped me
off. i would come home 'sick' just so i could be with my mom. then
when my mom went back to work after my sister was born, i would call
home 'sick' and boppie or nonnie would come and pick me up from
school. i would spend the rest of the day at their house being taken
care of...

becky talked to her therapist about my situation the other day. she
came up with an analogy that goes like this:

You are in the airport and have a shit ton of baggage. You know where
you want to go, you're not really sure how to get there, but you know
what your destination is. People come up to you and try to help you,
and some how, you end up throwing too much of your baggage onto them.
These people can't carry all of the baggage, so they run off, and
always accidentally leave one of their bags behind for you to carry.
So what you need is one of those $2 baggage carts to load all of your
baggage on. This way, when people come along, it's a little easier
for them to help you pull, and if they still find it too hard, there's
no way they can "accidentally" leave some of their baggage behind

so i'm guessing the $2 baggage cart is my own love for myself. i'm not
exactly sure where you get one of those carts though. no one seems to
be able to tell me how i do this. becky said some people never figure
it out. but i'm figuring it out slowly, one little thing at a time.
and hopefully my life will be better after i do.

i know what has happened over the past few weeks has involved both of
us. i know i have done many hurtful things to you. and i know that the
last thing i ever want to do is hurt you. but i also know you have
done many hurtful things to me as well. and i don't know if i have
forgiven you for those things yet, especially since you have not
appologized. i don't know if you think anything you did was wrong at
all, and therefore you see no need for an appology. i don't know if i
should just forget about everything. i don't know if i can just forget
everything you did, and welcome you back into my life or if that's
what i want at all. i asked nonnie for the strength to forgive you
though, and to move on, hopefully to something better and stronger for
both of us.

this song struck me the other day:

with everything ahead of us,
we left everything behind
but nothin that we needed at least
not at this time
and now the feelin that im feelin, well
is feelin like my life is finally mine
and with nothin to go back to
we just continue to drive

without you i was broken
but id rather be broke down with you by my side
said without you i was broken
but id rather be broke down with you by my side

i didnt know what i was lookin for so i
didnt know what id find
i didnt know what i was missin i guess
youd been just a little too kind
and if i find just what i need
put a little peace in my mind
maybe you been lookin too
or maybe you dont even need to try

without you i was broken
but id rather be broke down with you by my side
said without you i was broken
but id rather be broke down with you by my side

with everything in the past
fadin faster and faster until it was gone
found out i was losin so much more
than i knew all along

but everything i been workin for
only worth nickels and dimes
but if i had a minute for every hour that i wasted
id be rich and kind
id be doin fine

without you i was broken
but id rather be broke down with you by my side
said without you i was broken
but id rather be broke down with you by my side

goodbye my friend

today at nonnie's funeral i had the honor of being able to read these thoughts to family and friends. it's an amalgamation of several blog entries with more stuff added...
<3


My phone rang at 8:50 am. I knew something wasn’t right. It was my Mom calling to say that they were moving Nonnie from the ICU to the hospice unit. She said I should come home as soon as possible. I left class in a stunned daze, and as I was driving down 81, my dad called to update me on Nonnie's condition. I asked if I could talk to her in case I didn't make it home in time, and he put her on the phone.

I said, hi, Nonnie, how are you?
And she said, Ooh Megan! Her voice was happy. She remembered me.
Tears welled in my eyes.
I said, Are you scared Nonnie?
No, she said. I've led a good life, and I have a good family.
Ok Nonnie, well I love you very, very much, and I'll see you soon.
Monitors beeped in the background.
I love you too. Click. I drove faster, Nonnie's voice ringing in my head

I spent the next three days in the hospital with my camera, documenting what I thought would be the last few days of her life. I actually almost didn’t bring my camera home with me because I thought people would think it was weird that I was photographing my dying grandma. But to me, death is just another part of life. And to create an image about the process we went through is to share yet another part of the human experience with someone else, and in sharing that, connect us all together. Or maybe viewing life through a camera is just my way of making sense of everything.

When I got back to school, I sifted through the hundreds of images I had created. I saw Uncle John bent over a sleeping Nonnie, brushing her hair. Aunt Terry feeding her lemon sherbert. My Mom and Dad, Aunt Sue, Aunt Kathy, Zach, Karm, Mary Fran, Kate, and countless others all taking turns watching over her, cleaning her, holding her hand, and comforting her as she has done for us throughout our lives.

This is what I see when I look at these images. They are simultaneously sad and yet beautifully tender. I see the life of one tiny, fading person that has bound all of these other people together. And they've all come to tell her how much she has meant to them, and to say goodbye one last time. When I look back on this period in my life, it is this love and unity I will remember.

I sat by her bed and brushed her hair. Her eyes blinked open and closed.
I said, what are you thinking about Nonnie? She said, you
Days passed, and we could do nothing but wait by her side.

I went back to school, thinking I would not see my Nonnie alive again. But she wouldn’t be ready to leave us for a while.

Wednesday night my mom called to tell me that Nonnie's breathing had become erratic, and that I might want to consider coming home. She called back several minutes later to say that she'd stabilized and that I should just stay at school. I didn't sleep well afterwards, and had nightmares all night long. In my dreams, I found myself in the middle of a field, rain pouring down, screaming at the heavens to take her or leave her with us, but not to leave her like this.

When I woke up to do work before class the next morning, everything I've been dealing with lately seemed to hit me all at once. I couldn't stop crying. I called my friend Becky, and she told me that I didn't belong at school, I belonged home with my family. Waiting for a phone call to say my grandma had died was too much to deal with on top of everything else.

I packed up some stuff and drove home, planning to come back to school the next night.

When I got to the hospital, Nonnie was in worse shape than the last time I'd seen her. Her cheeks were hollow, and she was very thin. She hadn't eaten in 10 days. I said, Hi Nonnie, and kissed her head, but she didn't respond like she did last week. As I held her hand and talked to her, her eyes fluttered slightly. The nurse would later tell me that the last sense we lose before we die is our hearing.

I sat down on the couch next to my Aunt Kathy, and she asked me how things were going at school. As I started explaining everything I began crying again. She and Jenn sat with me and hugged me. We rocked back and forth and talked about my problems and they reassured me that everything would work out eventually. I believed them. I've never felt that connected to my family, but things seem to have changed over the past few weeks. I've reached out to them for help, and they've responded with tremendous love and support. I can't help but feeling like this was some sort of master plan for Nonnie. If there would be one thing she could ask before she died, I'm pretty sure it would be to bring her family closer together. Becky was right. What I really needed was to be with my family.

For as long as I can remember, Nonnie has had some sort of back or neck pain. Her doctor couldn't explain to us why after losing 5 pints of blood, she was still able to live for 15 days. One of the nurses told me that when pain is just a part of living, your body learns to compensate for it in different ways. Her body thought that this was just another thing it was going to fight its way out of.

I spent the next day at the hospital, and planned on leaving around 6. I wasn't really ready to go back to school yet, so I ended up staying longer than I'd planned. As I went back into Nonnie's room to collect my stuff, the nurse told Aunt Sue that she thought it was time.

We all stood around Nonnie's bed and held her, and each other. As I ran my fingers through her hair for the last time I thought about how she’d done the same for me as I sat in her lap as a child. I thought about how she would finally be with Boppie, which is the only place she's ever wanted to be. Some of us told her how much we loved her. Some bowed their heads in prayer. I whispered in her ear, thanking her for everything she's ever done for me, told her I loved her, and asked her to say hello to Boppie for me...

From Boppie, I carry on a love of craft, gardening, photography, tacky lawn ornamentation and fancy pants dancing. And while I may have lost a home within my grandmother, whatever burned inside of her that kept her going for all those years, through everything she's been through, through all the hard times and pain, and all of the good times too, will burn inside of me forever. Her memory brings me comfort and laughter, but above all, it brings me strength and courage. Strength that will carry me through tough times, and open my heart up to care for others. Strength to forgive those who have done me wrong. Her memory will bring me courage to speak of truth and beauty, to change the things that I can change, and to accept the things I cannot. And if I accomplish one thing in my time here on earth, I hope it is to touch as many lives as my Nonnie has.

love others as you love yourself

my cousin zach recorded an interview with nonnie a few months ago.
zach: What information is important for you to record about your family
so that it will not be forgotten in the next generation?
nonnie: Our honesty and kindness

zach: what were you like when you were younger?
nonnie: I was a whip when I was younger!

wednesday night my mom called during my drama class to tell me that nonnie's breathing had become eratic, and that i might want to consider coming home. she called back several minutes later to say that she'd stabalized and that i should just stay at school. i didn't sleep well afterwards, and had nightmares all night long. when i woke up to do work before class the next morning, everything i've been dealing with lately seemed to hit me all at once. i couldn't stop crying. i called becky, and she told me that i didn't belong at school, i belonged home with my family. waiting for a phone call to say my grandma had died was too much to deal with on top of everything else.

i packed up some stuff and drove home, and planned to come home the next night.

when i got to the hospital, nonnie was in worse shape than the last time i'd seen her. her cheek bones were much more pronounced, and she was very thin. she hadn't eaten in 10 days. i said hi nonnie and kissed her head, but she didn't respond like she did last week. as i held her hand and talked to her, her eyes fluttered slightly. the nurse would tell me later that the last sense we lose before we die is our hearing.

i sat down on the couch next to my aunt kathy, and she asked me how things were going at school. as i started explaining everything i began crying again. she and my cousin jenn sat with me and hugged me. we talked about my problems and they reassured me that everything would work out eventually. i've never fealt that connected to my family, but things seem to have changed. i've reached out to them for help, and they've helped me tremendously. i can't help but feeling like this was some sort of master plan for nonnie. if there would be one thing she could ask before she died, i'm pretty sure it would be to bring her family closer together. becky was right. what i really needed was to be with my family.

i spent the next day at the hospital, and planned on leaving around 6. i wasn't really ready to go back to school yet, so i ended up staying longer than i'd planned. as i went back into nonnie's room to collect my stuff, the nurse told my aunt that she thought it was time.

we all stood around nonnie's bed and held her. as i ran my fingers through her hair for the last time i thought about how i'd sat in her lap as a kid and she'd done the same for me. i thought about how she would finally be with boppie, which is the only place she's ever wanted to be. some of us told her how much we loved her. some said prayers. i thanked her for everything she's ever done for me, told her i loved her, and asked her to say hello to boppie for me...

for as long as i can remember, nonnie has had some sort of back or neck pain. her doctor couldn't explain to us why after losing 5 pints of blood, she was still able to live for 15 days in hospice. one of the nurses was telling me that when pain is just a part of life for some people, your body learns to compensate for it in different ways. we think that her body thought that this was just another thing it was going to fight its way out of.

her obituary ran in the paper today. it read:
she was a woman of deep faith, selfless, loving, nurturing, compassionate and wise
whose spirit not even 30 years of pain could dim.
her joe and her family were her life.
she will be missed,
but her spirit will strengthen her family and friends always.

from my boppie, i carry on a love of craft, gardening, photography, tacky lawn ornamentation and fancy pants dancing. and while i may have lost a home within my grandmother, whatever burned inside of her that made her keep going for all those years, through everything she's been through, will burn inside of me forever. her memory brings me comfort and laughter, but above all,
strength.

may angels lead you in
here you me my friend
on sleepless roads the sleepless go
may angels lead you in

love is always patient and kind


i would like to thank everyone who has been so kind and supportive over the past few weeks. in no particular order, beck, kat, justin, daver, lesley, jenn, anne, jim, mariana, my aunts & uncles, mom, dad & kate. i love you.

beauty that we left behind, how shall we tomorrow find

Battered and torn
still I can see the light
Tattered and worn
but I must kneel to fight

Friend of mine
what can't you spare
I know some times
it gets cold in there

Hope is alive
while we're apart
only tears
speak from my heart
break the chains
that hold us down
and we shall be
forever bound

Beauty that
we left behind
how shall we
tomorrow find

Set aside
our weight in sin
so that we
can live again

wrong turn

and i will wait here a while
just long enough to be
sure that you
didnt make a wrong turn
and ill wait long enough
well maybe an hour or two
before i decide
it wasnt me, it was you
it wasnt me, it was you

and i would like you to know
although it seems sad to say
this was only the worst
hour of my day
the worst hour of my day

how long has it been on your mind
and do you think about it when we laughed
i think that its a big mistake
cause i think that we could make it last
even if its just for a while

ill wait here for now
just long enough to be
sure that you
really wanna go through with it
cause i dont really wanna go through with it
and do you really wanna go through with this

they say time will make all this go away

Oh no here comes that sun again
And that means another day without you my friend
And it hurts me to look into the mirror at myself
And it hurts even more to have to be with somebody else

And it's so hard to do and so easy to say
But sometimes - sometimes
you just have to walk away - walk away

With so many people to love in my life
why do I worry about one
But you put the happy in my ness
you put the good times into my fun

And it's so hard to do and so easy to say
But sometimes - sometimes
you just have to walk away - walk away and head for the door

We've tried the goodbye so many days
We walk in the same direction so that we could never stray
They say if you love somebody than you have got to set them free
but I would rather be locked to you than live in this pain and misery
They say time will make all this go away
but it's time that has taken my tomorrows and turned them into yesterdays
And once again that rising sun is droppin' on down
And once again, you my friend, are nowhere to be found

And it's so hard to do and so easy to say
But sometimes, sometimes you just have to walk away
walk away and head for the door
You just walk away - walk away - walk away
You just walk away
walk on
turn and head for the door

and it was god telling me, everything's gonna be alright

as i was driving home, my dad called me on the phone to update me on nonnie's condition. i asked if i could talk to her in case i didn't make it home in time, and he put her on the phone.

i said
hi, nonnie, how are you?
and she said
ooh megan
her voice was happy
she remembered me
i said
are you scared nonnie?
no. i've led a good life, and i have a good family.
ok nonnie, well i love you very very much, and i'll see you soon.
i love you too
click

i drove faster with nonnie's voice ringing in my head


i sat by her bed and brushed her hair. her eyes blinked open and closed.
i said, what are you thinking about nonnie?
you


there's something really beautiful about all of the images i shot over the course of the three days i was home. sad and tender. this one person binds all of these other people together. and they've all come to say goodbye to someone who has meant a lot to them their whole life.

and there is nothing left to do but wait...