Save yourself the heartache---and possible herpes---buy a dildo and learn who you are inside and out.

Yes, I am alive. I had my tonsils removed 3 weeks ago. You would think I would've had nothing but time to write, but I spent a majority of it in a liquid Vicodin haze. Note to people with kids---get your kids tonsils out early. Note to adults---it sucks balls!

Most of my recovery was spent on the couch with Facebook pulled up. I did a lot of stalking in that month off. I ate Jello, and checked the status updates of people I haven't spoken to in years. I couldn't help but notice some girls on my Facebook are just starving for attention. I post a lot on there, I know, but these girls are posting updates like, "Oh my God, I am so ugly" or "Look how fat I am" or "I never find a boy who cares about me." Well, maybe you should start caring about yourself, and spend some time looking within. The last boy you "loved" after 2 weeks of dating was just like the other boy you "loved" after dating for 2 weeks. It's not rocket science.

I don't get why girls are afraid of being alone. Yeah, it sucks. Who wants to go to dinner alone? Or a movie? No one! But people do it everyday. You may be thinking, "Who are you to talk? You're in a long term relationship." Yes I am, but before Nick and I got together I was single for close to 3.5 years. Yeah, I went on dates, kissed random boys, and had fun, but I learned about myself in that time. I committed to nobody but myself. I found out that I don't mind being alone. I'd rather be alone than with the wrong person. Every person you meet teaches you something--whether it's good or bad.

Girls, stop attaching yourself to douche bags just so you don't have to be alone. Save yourself the heartache---and possible herpes---buy a dildo and learn who you are inside and out. You're the best date you'll ever have. The only relationship that is GUARANTEED to last forever is the one you have with yourself.

I didn't realize that the butter mints could wait.

I will be the first to admit I like shiny things. I am like a fucking raccoon when it comes to shit like that. I'm a self proclaimed "sparkle-holic" if you will. I may not project this in my everyday life, but I am pretty girly. I was a huge tomboy back when I was younger. I blame my grandfather for this. He didn't have a lot of masculine energy around with 2 daughters and a gay son, so as soon as I came around I am pretty sure his mindset was something like this--"Vagina or not, this girl is going to like sports and have things in common with me, damnit!" While the blood in my veins still runs blue and orange for my Chicago Bears, I started to embrace the princess in myself when I was around 16. Being Dennis's pseudo-grandson or not; I still dreamed about my wedding day as little girl.

A little over a year ago, my dreams actually came one step closer to fruition. It wasn't the proposal I had pictured my whole life, but it was so us. It wasn't the proposal Nick has planned either. We were actually in the middle of arguing. I asked him to get me a Q-Tip. He was in our bathroom and yelled out that he couldn't find them. I was pissed because I didn't want to get up, so I ran in there and he was on one knee with those damn Q-Tips right by him. Nick asked me to marry him! And I said yes! He hadn't planned to ask me that day, so he had tied a bread tie in a circle with another one attached for the ruby.

The second after that "Yes" came out of my mouth, I started planning. A week after being engaged, I had my dress picked out, the "theme" planned, and the guest list started. This was all of course being done while having about $7.00 to my name and way more than that in debt. The little girl in me was all about planning this and getting it done! I didn't realize that the butter mints could wait. My maid of honor is still going to be there in 5 years if I want to wait. If I want someone to see me in a pretty dress and in love, then come see me karaoke on the weekend, because I soon realized--planning a wedding does not equal planning a marriage.

This blog was inspired by a night of me watching Sex and the City. It was one where Carrie and Aiden were dating and he buys her apartment building and moves in with her. She snoops through his bag and sees a ring and proceeds to vomit in the sink--- the only hint she needed that she wasn't ready! At the end of the episode, he asks her and she says yes anyways! Why? Because most girls are like me, self proclaimed "sparkle-holics" who have been waiting to say yes to that question their whole life. Anyways, it pissed me off! 

That's not why I said yes to getting married, and that is certainly why I am waiting to get married. I absolutely love my ring, yes it does sparkle, but that ring isn't going to mean shit if I rush things and say yes just because I finally have that opportunity to do so. I'd rather have a bread tie ring, sparkly or not, and a beautiful marriage with the love of my life.

Lord am I happy it wasn't Napa Valley--I would have become a wino!

Life is funny how it throws you curve balls. Six weeks ago, I was ready to start a new life. My brain was ready to give up on the life I have created up here in Eau Claire. Thanks to a great friend and a lot of faith, I decided to go with my heart and stay up here. Just so happens, I have started a new life anyways. I am so happy I went with my gut feelings and stayed. Nick and I sat down and came up with a plan. We were going to start thinking positively. We would no longer negatively enable each other. We were going to try our damnedest to cut out our laziness--and it was going to be today, not tomorrow. We both went at this in different ways, but the change we have seen has been tremendous.

Last week, we celebrated our 3 year anniversary. In that time, we have been through ups and downs. I swear to God, we've been riding a roller coaster. There have been twists and turns and loops and bends I never knew even existed. No one ever said love would be easy. I've heard it my whole life--life has it's peaks and valleys. It seems like in these past three years, we have spent a majority of our time in a valley. Lord am I happy it wasn't Napa Valley--I would have become a wino! Now don't think that this time has all sucked because it hasn't. In that time, I have laughed more than I ever have in my whole life. I have found out that I am worth more than I gave myself credit for. I also found out that love means you stick it out through the tough shit.

And boy oh boy has there been tough shit. We moved in with each other--that's a plus! Within a month, we both lost our jobs and our apartment got robbed---kind of a BIG minus! We got our kitties. My furry babies! That is definitely a plus. We moved up to Eau Claire. That has had its ups and downs alone. Alas---we have now gotten to the point where we have a plan--kind of. Our plan is--be adults. We have learned and continue to learn how to keep "Old Nick and Megan" in check. We still have a blast, and haven't lost our old selves by any means. We still eat cereal in our underwear and watch cartoons on the couch, but we do that before going into work now. We are never going to be normal. Thank God for that!

As Nick and I were walking back to our apartment after dinner with his folks tonight, we smelled a bonfire. We were carrying on a conversation and both stopped mid sentence. We breathed in deep and both smiled. We were both transported somewhere else if only for a second.


Ever since I can remember, I have loved the smell of burning leaves. It reminds me of my favorite time of year, Autumn-- hoodies, apple cider donuts, and going to the Pumpkin Patch as a kid. The colors of fall are beautiful--with it's rich reds, burgundies, oranges, and yellows. Nothing beats the sound of stepping on that first crunchy leaf! I can sit here and recall the many years I helped my grandparents rake their huge lawn and bring all of the leaves to the burn pile. I always used to love to watch the smoke billow out into the open field in the beginning of the fire. My favorite was watching the embers die out at the end when there was nothing else left to burn. They were a deep red-orange color, almost like lava.


Tonight as I was walking home, I was just reminded of how lucky I am. I was always taught to appreciate what I have, and I do. Sure, I have a lot of debt, and my pants don't fit the way I want to, but I do have a family who I love. I hate my huge feet and wish my skin would clear up, but I do have friends who I wouldn't change for the world, and fiance who will stand by me no matter what. Yeah, it kind of sucks that I am working a job that pays kind of shitty, but I am starting school in January because I finally know what I want to do with my life. This is a life that I just started over six weeks ago, ya know? Can't really go wrong with that!

All aboard! One ticket on the train to Uncomfortable, population--me, please!

When I was a little girl, I thought that stripes and polka dots matched. OK, I still do, but that's besides the point. There are numerous pictures of me dolled up in outfits I put together. At the age of 5, I thought I was the next Coco--had I known what Chanel was!

As I grew older, that uniqueness continued. I paired vintage jackets with superman shirts. I loved putting band tee's with frilly skirts. I was all about making a statement--whether it was good or bad-- I was me and that was that. For some reason, after high school I thought I had to grow up. I donated all of my tee shirts to the Salvation Army--hey, at least they went back home right?! I went and bought (I shudder) blouses. I stopped wearing my Converse and wore what I thought were "grown up" shoes. All aboard! One ticket on the train to Uncomfortable, population--me, please!

As I am sure you have figured out, I have been doing a lot of soul searching lately. I have come to the conclusion that if I am happy wearing Chuck Taylors and watching Fairly OddParents--then dammit I am going to do it! I am no longer ashamed that I love watching iCarly, and I literally "lol" at least 4 times during each episode. Yes, I absolutely love reality TV and the Discovery Channel, but I can almost guarantee that I am watching NickToons if I am watching TV at all. Who cares if I wear socks that don't match? Or if I shudder at the mention of the word slacks. I am a good person! I pay most of my bills. I yield to pedestrians. So I will go to work tomorrow with my Disney princess lunch box and there isn't a thing you can say about it!

Both sides of my family are about as functional as Christopher Reeves legs (what too soon?)

I got an email from a family member that I haven't spoken to since last December yesterday. It brought back a lot of memories, and felt good to know that she was thinking of me. Unfortunately, these past 10 months have been a big misunderstanding, and we could've been talking, but alas, you can't look at the bad. At least we are talking now right? This email and influx of emotions got me thinking about family and how important it truly is.

Everyone has many sides to their family. Growing up I always thought my mom's side was messed up. Who wasn't divorced on that side? Why weren't we talking to this aunt again? On the other side, my dad's family was rainbows and butterflies in my little head. You know, big Catholic family. Tons of cousins. Fun get togethers and picnics in the summer. Basically nothing better this side of heaven right? Wrong! To put it bluntly, both sides of my family are about as functional as Christopher Reeves legs (what too soon?) But I'll be damned if we don't make that work for us.

Everyone has that "crazy" aunt that no one likes to speak of but then again everyone loves to talk about when she isn't around. Right? Right, that ONE crazy aunt. My family tree is chock full of them. If I were to categorize them I would probably be hard pressed to find one I could describe as "sane." Now, as stated in my previous blog, I am not the definition of normal, nor do I want to be, but there has been some fucked up shit thrown down in my family.

Anytime you get a group of more than one person together there are going to be different opinions. Most families (at least I am under the assumption), handle this by talking it out--perhaps arguing for a bit--but then crossing over to another subject. Yeah, not so much my family. We throw punches, get the cops involved, sue each other, disown members-- the usual.

So far I have touched base on the extended portion of my family. My immediate family isn't SO bad. I grew up in a semi-normal environment--if you count my dad being in and out for most of my child hood because he was chasing his dream of becoming a rock star then only to become drug addicted and tear apart my family normal--then yeah, it was right on course. Growing up that was normal for me though. I wasn't aware that all dads didn't do that. My mom was always there for me. I never went without--in fact I often went with too much. I was spoiled by both sets of grandparents. I was the only grandchild for more than a decade, and I'm sure they bought gifts to hide the fact my dad was sucking the big one in his job description. 

After the divorce, I realized that is not how all little girls grew up. I always hid the fact that I was fine with it, but deep down it killed me. Why couldn't my dad be there for me like all the other girls in my class? I had a grandfather I absolutely (and still do) adore. I should've been happy right? Well, I guess you always want what you didnt have. I don't think that was the case with me though. I felt that I deserved a good dad. I got jipped. I held up my portion of the deal right? I was a cute as hell daughter. I never made him play dress up---that often!

Now that I am older and have had a chance to reflect on the past, I realize that yeah, while it sucked (and quite honestly still sucks sometimes now), I wouldn't be who I am without my history. Did it suck that my mom had to be both mom and dad? Yes. Did it hurt to have to make excuses for him all those years? Sure, but it taught me a lot. It has taught me what I want out of life; the type of family I want to raise. I know what I want for my family. I don't want my kids to have to go through the same things I did.

I know my mom blames herself (even still) for some of the things that happened in our past, but I am writing this for both her and me. She was the greatest (and still is) role model a messed up girl could ask for. She held herself together in times of trouble. She didnt lower herself to the childish games my dad played. She was always composed and classy. She taught me to stand up for what I believe in. She has taught me to take shit from no one. Most importantly, she has taught me the type of mom I want to be.

It's funny how rants like this can be sparked by one little email, but it really got me thinking. I am happy that she contacted me. It shows me that other people are willing to look beyond the bullshit. It means a lot that she wants to have a relationship with me regardless of the fact of another family dispute, and that's how it should be. Yes, there are some people I have chosen to cut out of my life, but that's exactly what I did--cut them out. I hope others realize that even though I don't want a relationship with that particular person; I still want contact with everyone else. It has been a tough 10 months, and I hope that with this cut in the family tie rebound, it can start to get easier.

Hello--the best thing since Gutenburg's movable type in the 1400s, remember?

I have always been a writer. My grandma has writings of mine that I wrote at age 5; then again she has things saved from her 1969 wedding to my grandfather. We are a family of pack rats but that is a WHOLE other blog topic.

At the age of 11, I was published for the first time for a poem that I wrote. You would have thought by my family's reaction that I was fucking Walt Whitman. From that moment on it was set, I wanted to be a writer. There was no doubt in my mind. No one was stopping me! I succeeded and won this contest and my family thinks I am the next Jane Eyre over here.

I excelled in all of my English and lit classes all through high school; even taking a senior writing class my junior year (hello--the best thing since Gutenburg's movable type in the 1400s, remember?) I continued to write short stories and poetry all throughout my four years at Boylan. It was my release. Looking back at the poetry now, I realize how very depressed I truly was. My breakdown right after graduation really shouldn't have been that much of a shocker had I looked inside and noticed I was that girl in all my poems. I was really that in the dark I suppose.

Post high school and mental breakdown number 1 (yes, they have numbers!), I couldn't write anymore. Literally would sit down and nothing would come out. Usually my poetry came out like diarrhea, I couldn't stop the stuff! Not anymore. Here I am, at the lowest point in my life and my only coping tool bailed on me. In enters my second coping friend, food! I was living on my own for the first time. Depressed as all hell. Smoking a lot of pot. Hiding my emotions behind a happy face and many Swiss cake roll wrappers. As someone who has suffered with her weight all her life, let's add 50 pounds to my flabby self and see how that helps the self esteem! Smart Megan!

So, this has been my life off and on for 4 years now. Mental breakdown. Therapy. Feeling good. Diet. Losing weight. Skinny(ish)-ness. Life goes good for awhile. Then the cycle of peaks and valleys starts over again. Well, I have finally come to the point in my life where that is ending! I am not saying shit isn't going to get me down anymore, because Lord knows with my genetic makeup and chemical imbalance this girl is going to be on pills forever to at least even my moods out, but I am finally ok with that. I used to self diagnose. Start feeling better and stop taking my medicine. Hmm, wonder why I spiraled down into the holes I did?!

I hid behind my disease for four years. Not anymore world! Watch out! Megan has returned, and she is a bad bitch! I have a new found confidence that yes, still has its moments of waning, but its growing daily. I have come to the conclusion that I am worth it. Who cares if I am a size 22? Who cares if my boobs are small and sort of misshapen? I love myself for who I am, and if you can't, then too bad, you are missing out. I am going places and you could've been coming with me.

Do I know what I am going to be doing in the next year? Not really, but I do have plans that I will stick out. The past four years has bogged me down with a lack of motivation, and I am not letting that happen anymore. I am taking back the attitude that I had 13 years ago. No one is going to stop me! This time there is no doubt in my mind. I have come a long way and you haven't seen anything yet!

When you come upon a brick wall.......

I've been trying out this whole positive thinking thing for about 4 weeks now. Overall, it has been going well if I were to sit down and think about it, which I forced myself to do tonight. I was down all day today. I couldn't shake it no matter what I did. I tried the whole fooling my subconscious into feeling positive by thinking, "I'm in a good mood" over and over. Well, that didn't work, as it normally does, in fact, it further progressed my anxiety until I threw up. To top it off I was at work after being sick for a week, real cool self! Thanks!

So after freaking out over nothing at work and getting through that Lifetime movie I caused myself I came home. I still couldn't shake this moodiness. Well Nick, who can read me like a book(damn him!), sat me down and wanted to talk, which is fine. I am usually all about trying to figure out why I am down and more than willing to help find a solution, but today I couldn't put a finger on WHY I was feeling like this. After talking for awhile we came to the conclusion that I want the instant gratification for the hard work I have been putting in these past few weeks. I feel that I am doing all this work and am seeing no results. Well, Nick being the man of reason he is, pointed out that while the results haven't been huge there has been a lot of progress. 

He said something that really struck a chord though---

         "You feel like you're up against a brick wall, don't you? When you feel that way, why don't you lay down and look at the brick wall from a different perspective? When you're laying down, its just a path there to HELP lead you to your goals, not something you're up AGAINST to defeat you."

So yeah, I am still feeling a little down, but that's probably down right bitchiness, missing my mom, and my extreme need(yes, need) for a brownie sundae. Nothing I don't conquer on a daily basis!