I'd rather be a comma, then a full stop

Tonight, after I said a witty comment, someone told me that I should have a blog.

And I was all, "I do! And I post my muffin recipes there."

Then I felt bad because I lately that is all I have ever done, so sorry. I'm going to talk about interesting things now.

Like how my tonsils got all huge and gross and I couldn't breathe or swallow, and so I had to go to the doctor. But not the doctor in Salt Lake, the doctor in freakin' Odgen because the clinic I go to here was randomly closed for staff training.

But whatev's. I got to meet my mom and she brought me egg drop soop [sic, I think it's better that way].

I did not get caught up on NaNoWriMo... not yet anyway. I want to! I have lots to write and I don't always have motivation, but I force myself and then words happen, so ya. I'm still too concise for my own good. I still let my readers fill in the blanks too often. But one thing I took from my acting class is this: you have to know everything, even if you don't use everything. So in the final product will I take out unnecessary things? Sure, but for now they're there so I'm forced to think about them.

OK, that's a lot of meta data.

I'm really tired and I'm still sick, so I'm going to bed, mmmk? Thanks.

-Megan

Thriller! And a thrilling, but mindless, account of my favorite dresses

Sam took me to see Thriller on Tuesday night. We had been looking forward to the performance for some time, because I had never seen it and Sam hadn't seen it for two years.

It was a blend of funny, strange and intriguing, drenched and dipped in every flavor of Halloween.

I wore my new pale chartreuse sweater today, and it reminded me of the time I was trying to decide between two prom dresses: one was dark green and one was chartreuse.

The one I got looked like this: (Ya, I'm on the far left, looking weird. I couldn't find the pictures of when I actually wore this to a dance. Anyway.)

Chartreuse is a color that looks like this.

found here
I think the deciding factor in the end was that chartreuse just reminded me too much of the famed "lettuce dress." I don't have a picture of this because it's kind of holy. And I mean that both ways.

Picture a flamenco dress. Not unlike this:

found here

And it belonged in our dress up box. We loved that thing and did silly dances in it, and as fun as that was... there was something inside me that could not bear to be that daring.

Being who I am now, I'd probably go for it, but then as a teenager, I was all like, "I'll take the poofy dress!" Even though my mom always said that guys like girls who wear skinny, tighter-fitting dresses better. (Mom? Why you be so cool/weird/awesome?)

But the dark green dress does have beading that somewhat resembles the White Tree from Return of the King. And I do love that big green dress...

Then it was Lindsey's turn to get formals! Yay! And she got a light green dress, which I have never had a chance to properly wear. But if I ever do, I can remember the skinny chartreuse dress I never got.

Now that I can finally (almost) spell chartreuse after writing this whole mindless torment, I'm going to get back to living my wonderful amazing existence. Please and thank you.

-Meg

Oat bran muffins, and other astonishing things

Healthy and hearty. These muffins are down to earth, lumber jack tough. I tried out the recipe on the back of the oat bran bag I got when I made last week's muffins.

Recipe found here. I used pecans instead of walnuts because I had lots of pecans. I also didn't use dates because I didn't have any.

I'm getting kind of sick of muffins... but everyone loves them and I don't want to give up my goal!


Yesterday was an amazing Sunday, as Sundays usually are. Dinner at the bishop's house, game night that was of course thrilling, and then being serenaded by Griff.

Life seriously can't get much better than this.

-Meg

Lemon Poppyseed

These muffins are so good that I was reduced to a frenzy and rendered incapable of any notion of normalcy.

They were easy to make, and I regret not doubling the recipe, which can be found here.

I keep wanting to spell "seed" as "sead." Silly me.

I have this habit of sprinkling sugar on the top of my muffins to make that gentle crystal crust. Try it! 'Tis so yummy.

I also couldn't help but show off our amazing game night treats. Game nights on Sunday have become the best part of my week. A bunch of people get together and play awkward and awesome games. Then we have treats. This is what we brought yesterday:


And I'm really tired, but also really giddy. (That's an old fashioned way of saying hyper.)

-Meg

12:59 a.m.

I know it's super late, but that is what I am famous for: late night posts.
Today I practiced one of my new goals. I try to be involved in some way at least once in every class, every day. I just make it happen.

I'll answer a question (or try, even if I'm not sure I'm right.) I read aloud in Spanish. I ask a question. Just something.

This is a secret I wish I had learned earlier! It keeps me awake and I think it will make my professors like me! My classes have suddenly become meaningful because I have invested myself in them.

One of my over-arching, almost-a-motto tag-line is to be fearless. (Yes, like T. Swift.)  If I'm afraid, I just stop being afraid. I shut up that fear inside of me and force myself to embrace whatever comes.

I'm tired and I have no energy, but courage grants me strength, even when I'm just pretending I'm brave. (Yes, like "Just Whistle a Happy Tune" from The King and I. ) I do need to figure out a way to sleep more, though. Maybe closing this post and actually doing my homework would be a good start.

Now that I've made a few embarrassing music references, I will cease prattling on. There is work to be done. Good night, all.

-Meg

Exhausted at 3:12 a.m.

I stumble in my room after getting home from work. It is three a.m. and my alarm is going off. For a moment I can't figure out why my alarm is ringing at this hour.

Then it hits me. Last Monday morning, my alarm was set at 3 a.m. so I could wake up by 3:14 a.m. for my race. I never turned it off.

It was just Monday--although it feels like so long ago--that I was racing my 10k, which is the second one I've ever done. This year was much better than last. Right now I'm so tired and brain dead that I can't remember what it feels like to be energetic and ready to pound out 6.1 miles, but earlier this week I'm sure I felt that way.

The race was fantastic for me, I finished in 52 something and was 18th in my age division. 18 is my lucky number, after all. It was hard, too. Hard and glorious.

I ran with Adriana most of the way, but she sprinted ahead during the last half mile. She pulled out at a 51 something. We were in disbelief when together we passed mile three, and according to her watch, it was faster than the fastest 5k we've ever done. The race is mostly down hill, but we still felt proud of ourselves.

Lindsey did her usual quickness. She did a 45 something. Super awesome.

Our parents didn't come down to SLC to watch us race, but that's OK. It was a great way to start the week that was to be long and stressful. They had a lot of things to do.

It's over, though. This long week of rehearsals and Chrony are finished. These wee hours are Friday, and Friday means freedom for a few short hours. Then it's back to work. I can do this. It's like the last mile of the race. Every bone and muscle in your body is screaming and sobbing and all you can do is focus on every minute aspect of your stride. You know your face is awful and red and all the people on the side of the road who are watching you are probably really glad they're not you because you look so ghastly and agonizingly winded.

But you run anyway, and push your body and find there is strength untapped in reservoirs deep within your will to survive. The pain is to be embraced, taken in and basked in.

Now I just have to gear up for the weekend. Which I expect to be equally as grueling as the days before.

-Meg

Last night

A month ago today, I was on a plane to California...

Last night must have been a page designer nightmare!

I'm really glad I wasn't working last night. I mean, imagine having the front page all laid out, possibly even sent to the printer.

And then you get the news that Osama bin Laden has been killed.

Rearranging time! No, more like destroy everything and start over. Read the New York Times' story about its front page, {here}.

It's been really slow, but if you're lucky, you can look at newseum.org to see today's front pages around the country, and the world.

Are there more important things to think about than how the page looks in the morning? Yes. Most definitely. We need to worry about security and possible retaliation.

But everyone sees the event through their own eyes, their own frame of reference. This is my frame of reference: a journalist's, because that is what I'm doing now. No, I won't be doing that in a few years down the road probably, but I still appreciate what that life is like.

And I appreciate what our servicemen and women have done for our country. I appreciate their leaders. I appreciate our soldiers' wives, children, parents, for what they go through. I am grateful to live in this country--for the freedom of the press, and freedom of religion, and so many more freedoms.

The battle isn't over, but it still feels really good that he is gone.

-Meg

Cathrine + William

I am not ashamed to say that I woke up really early to watch Kate and William's wedding! (It was actually more just staying up really late and pulling an all nighter, though.) I'm just a sucker for all the glamor and hullabaloo. I know I'm just an American, and that I shouldn't care... but seriously. Look at this dress! Look at his uniform!

{source}

And the flowergirl! So adorable!

I loved everything about the wedding. It was so grand, and yet so simple. The hats were splendid. I think we should all just start wearing hats everywhere because there's nothing quite like them.

{source}

Pretty fabulous.

I, on the other hand, was not at all fashionable. I was in my comfy clothes snuggled up in a blanket. This is me in various stages throughout the night.

There were times I cried, you guys! Pathetic? Maybe. But it is all so lovely. I really want to go to England right now. I was thinking about all the reasons why I love England. Here is the list:

Reason I am enamored with England:

1. The Royal Wedding

2. Harry Potter

3. KJV Bible

4. Doctor Who

5. The Beatles

6. Mumford & Sons

7. Jane Austin

8. The BBC

9. Peter Pan

10. Charlieissocoollike

See how many awesome things come from the UK?

OK, back to homework now. Love you all! Toodles!

-Meg

11:58 p.m.

I was just thinking about all the stuff I have to do.

There's the usual stuff. Like reading about syntax--which I barely understand. I have to write a paper and cram for Spanish. (There's no studying ahead for Spanish. It is all cramming. We do so much and in so little time.)

Then there's the unusual stuff.

I have to do an observation for Anthropology and write about it.

Today I just finished helping out throw together a Valentines FHE. It felt so good to spend this day just working on serving other people.

It reminded me about 2 Valentine's Days ago. My great-grandma was spending her first Valentine's alone since her husband had died. I never feel comfortable with Valentine's Day, whether I'm seeing anyone or not. But I didn't want to mope, so I went up and cooked dinner with her and visited for a long time.

So I think I want to start a tradition for my Valentine's Days. I want to find ways to serve people every year. Because after FHE, I was still tired. I still had tons of stuff to do. I still am behind and my room's still a mess. But I feel so much stronger, and ready to go do anything.

I'm ready for the weird and tedious and boring and complex and the hard. I love being busy. I can do this. And I have some pretty amazing people by my side. I couldn't do it without them.

-Meg

I'm not too tired for this...

Today is the fourth day in the last month of the year of two thousand ten in the year of our Lord.

Do you know what that means?

I went on my first date with Brian 1 month ago.

Mmmmm yes, I have learned a lot about myself (and about this amazing person) in the last few weeks. The main thing is that I am in love with Brian. It's a good thing to learn.

I know what some of you are wondering! But what about Elder Hill?

Well... I don't know.

Good thing I do not need to know right now. I just know that I love being with Brian, and I love him. And I feel I need to tell the world about this. Because it is so fantasical and magical. And a lot of other adjectives that have eluded my sleep depraved mind.

Good night, folks!

-Meg

My Word Count is Steadily Ascending

Good morning!

It's exactly 12:27 a.m.

You know what that means:

LATE NIGHT POST

Get ready to roll your eyes and bang your head against a palm tree, (or any type of foliage that might be nearby. I do not envy you if you live in Arizona. I hear cacti are beastly to bang up against.)

So despite taking 15 credit hours and working about 25 hours a week, I'm doing NaNoWriMo. That's National Novel Writing Month. It's absolutely crazy. I'm actually feeling quite nervous about not being able to finish, and I worry about my novel being absolute crap. I'm not worried about the homework I'm currently procrastinating.

But the pep talks and message of NaNoWriMo is to worry about quantity, not content. The point is to just get the words out there and you can fix it later. Although I'm trying to adopt that as my monthly mantra, I've found it to be quite difficult to stifle my inner editor.

I am an editor after all. First and foremost, before a writer. I am learning to be a linguist, and linguists do not write 1667 crappy words a day.

But I've taken to reminding myself that because I am an editor, I will be able to salvage the misshapen creature I'm creating. I trust myself to tighten up my word hoarding sentences and make my verbs more concise and my descriptions precise and relevant.

One issue I keep running into is that the verbosity I adopted to rack up my word count carries over into my every day writing. Which is not cool. I like to call myself the queen of concise. I'm notorious for editing a friend's paper and leaving it 100 words short of the word count requirement.

I'm mean. I know.

I do love my main character though. I think she's the only reason why I'm still writing. I took a different approach. I usually try to force my personality onto my MC, because I always assume that it will be easier to write about the person I know best.

Not the case. Caroline is completely the opposite of me, and I like writing about a girl that doesn't like to read or study, is easily distracted, has no patience. (Okay, maybe we do have some similar qualities.)

Caroline sees dead people. I call them dead people, but they're really not dead. It's more complicated than that, but I haven't found an accurate way of explaining it. Caroline's still trying to figure it out, so we'll be figuring it out together.

But I love the narrator even more. He's this omniscient figure, but he interjects with his own commentary and feels sympathy for Caroline. He's in love with her.

And that's where it gets weird. But I'm learning a lot. I love my book, even if I want to hate it.

OK. Now it's 12:41 a.m. I've wasted sufficient time telling you about my uber boring life as a writer.

You deserve a Merit Badge or something.

-M

I'm Tired, Crazy, and I think I hate Facebook.

Who needs hemp of caffeine to get creative? Sleep deprivation works fantastically. My eye is twitching, as it often does-- and this is not because I am a witch (my Hogwarts letter never came, but I PROMISE I'm no longer bitter). No, I'm just mightily tired. When you add up the total hours of unconsciousness, I'm actually not doing too shabby. I get sleeping around 1 a.m. and rise at 8-ish or 7-ish.So that's 6-7 hours, right? Not ideal, but better than those nights where I got 2-3.

Anyway, There was a point to all this. I just forgot what it was.

...

Oh yes! Facebook! Facebook: I hate you. I despise that I cannot cast you off so easily as I would like. Once I saw this Nova documentary about these African women who wear these thick stacks of coil around their necks all the time. Eventually the neck coils supported their neck, so if they took them off, their spines would collapse. So they were totally dependent on these metal neck rings to survive. The crazy part is that their necks were so long and stretched out!

Anyway, that's akin to how I'm addicted to Facebook. Perhaps my relationship with Facebook is more analogous to an abusive husband or a drug or caffeine -- a substance that has been endlessly on my mind as of late. My body thinks it necessary to stay awake. But I haven't caved! (Yet).

I would get so much more sleep if I could just stay off Facebook. I always think it will make me happy, but it never does! I (kind of) like reading about people's lives and stalking people. I kinda like knowing that all my friends are just like me... chained to a computer. Like a drug.

-Megan

P. S. I wrote this last night. I mean this morning. You know, it was like 1 a.m. (Can't you just count it as the same day as long as you haven't gone to sleep yet?) Oh, and I don't think that's an African woman. Sorry. I think she's Asian... I don't know. All I know is that that documentary scarred me for life.

[Title here] Megan

Titles I currently have:Titles I would like to have someday:

Obviously I've been thinking a lot about titles. Actually, I'm realizing that this is not a recent topic to have been dwelt upon by me. Take my obsession with names. Hmmm. What things are called is important to me. Everything must have a title, must have a label! And what is mine?

-just little old me(g)

Imagine that You're Me

You know you’ve been up too late because you start freaking out because not all your pictures are the same shade of sepia.

You realize that you’ve been staring at a computer screen for more than 12 hours today.

You realize, with some horror and dismay, that this is a typical day for you.

You try writing your essay by hand, because that’s how you like to write your first drafts.

You start wondering what the story would be like if told from the monster’s perspective, not Frankenstein’s.

You sit for a few minutes trying to remember if you’ve ever seen Young Frankenstein. Maybe once, at a party, or something.

You remember that Young Frankenstein is a Mel Brook’s movie. So is the Producers. You’ve never seen The Producers, but you’ve heard it. Once you listened in the bathroom while the boys were watching it in your room. You went in the bathroom to study grammar so you could focus, but you really ended up listening to the whole movie. From the bathroom floor.

You remember who those boys were, and decide to Facebook stalk them.

You try to switch your Facebook back to normal, US English; a language that you haven’t used for several months on that website. (UK English, then Spanish, then Pirate.) As you’re trying to find English (Why are they not in alphabetical order?) You come across Esperanto. You cannot help but wonder WHO IN THIS WORLD READS FACEBOOK IN ESPERANTO? So you do the logical thing and change your Facebook to Esperanto.

You notice that Esperanto’s a lot like Spanish. Which reminds you that you have to buy a Spanish textbook that costs $200 and is sold only brand new at the bookstore, AND NOWHERE ELSE!

You then fondly turn your thoughts to the new planner you bought at the bookstore, and the beautiful crimson 5 subject notebook with the U’s logo on it. You can’t wait for fall, because then you’ll be too busy to breathe. But you have your planner! And with a planner, all things are possible.

You rejoice because all things are possible. Like passing your English class. It can happen. You just have to write your essays! You’re half-way done with one of them, which is nice, but you remind yourself that you still really need to buckle down and get going.

You know that the only way to get going is to have a beautiful new pair of shoes on your feet to take you where you want to go! So you search the World Wide Web for the perfect pair of Mary Jane pumps. You find them.

You have to tell your sister and mom about them, and ask for advice on whether it is taking the risk to buy shoes online. You also have to ask if I should get the shoes in mustard or gray. (Two of your favorite colors.)

You decide you are almost ready to conclude this blog post, and thus begin thinking of a decent title. You struggle at this, and sarcastically remind yourself that this is why none of your headline suggestions will ever make it in print.

You have read the newspaper for years, and even now you study it with more fervor than ever before so that you can become acquainted with the subtle nuances of the art. So that you can be a good copy editor and page designer.

You suddenly realize how many incomplete sentences fill your blog post! Your soul is suddenly drenched in horror, repulsion, and trepidation. But you try to stay true to your word and not delete major things! So you leave them. Because that is what you said, even if it is wrong. Because sometimes you write things that are wrong, but you write them anyway, because they must come out of inside of you, so they don't boil and rot and corrupt you.

-Meg

p.s. Do you know what's ironic? I'm horrible at writing headlines because they aren't complete sentences, yet this post is riddled with half-formed, crippled sentences. WHAT IS THIS?

Out of Nowhere-- A Curious Declaration of Love

Oh look, it's 12:07 a.m. Not a bad time, actually, but late enough that I can write a great blog post.

So I saw Elder Hill for the last time. His farewell was amazing! He is such a good public speaker, and his testimony is so clear and simple. "God just wants to talk to us so badly! He's just waiting for us!" He loves talking about God's love. He also talked about his own father.

Ah I love that kid. I really do. But saying "I love you" seems weird, because it's more than anything romantic or twitter-pated. It's a deep, abiding love of the purest sort. It's a caring love. I want the very best for him, oh so much. I don't know how to explain how I love him... this all sounds so horribly cheesy and it just falls so short of what I really mean to say.

Let me try this way: I heard a quote once, "Anyone you truly know, you love." Well, I feel like I truly love Elder Hill because I truly know him. I know his weaknesses, his strengths, his quirks, everything... He is not perfect, he's just Paul. I mean, Elder Hill.

Holy Whoa, I did not intend to write all that about my love for him! Where did that come from? Well inside of me, I guess. And, as you have well figured out by now, I don't really delete things, even though I should. So that proclamation of devotion was unexpected... Sorry, dear readers. I try so hard not be sappy and cliche, but it just happens sometimes.

I really wanted to just tell the world that I am so happy. I am so happy. I am happy. I thought I would be upset and wallowing in a tragic pit of tears, but I'm not. Mind you, I have cried. I have been sad, and nervous. But I have been overcome with a deep sense of peace. I am sad, but it’s a happy sort of sad.

All my emotional space is filled with this peace. The sadness and fear and loneliness are still inside me, but they aren’t as real. They’re nothing more than a slight coloring of the calm inside of me.

I know it may seem strange that I’m talking about emotions like this. I can’t help it. I find it so curious that my feelings are not the center fiber of myself right now. I’m used to them consuming my whole existence.

All I can say is that I feel God's love in my life every day. I do not know the end, but I know it's going to be okay! Everything is the way it should be.

-Megan

** Story behind the picture ** I was lining up to get my picture with the popular Elder Hill. So I go to stand next to him, and before I know it, he's picking me up! Talk about lover's leap! That made me really giddy. (Ah, I'm such a girl...)

Exclamation Points, Eating, and a short list of utterances

Yay! Another really late post! Hold on to your hats! Let's hope that this is semi-good (let's face it, the last couple of posts have been LAME!)

Now that I've overused my exclamation points, we can move along to the rest of my rant.

I'm so so tired. (Duh). It is so hot. I can't believe I complained about the cold just a few weeks ago! (Crap, I just used another exclamation point.) I am blaming the heat for the reason why I cannot sleep. The heat is keeping me up, that and my homework, which isn't due until Monday, but I have a feeling I will have absolutely no desire to do it tomorrow, because tomorrow is Mr. Hill's farewell. The fact that tomorrow is his farewell and that in a just 3 days he will be embarking on a long journey to an island 6,000 miles away is NOT why I'm still awake. Because I wouldn't whine about that on my blog. How cliche would that be?

Another reason I'm still awake and it's almost 1 a.m.: I think I've had like MAYBE 700 calories today. And like half of those were from a serving of Alfredo noodles. Alfredo is my weakness! I know it is one of THE most unhealthy dishes one could eat, but I always get it! (Well, actually my mommy made it for dinner, so I didn't have a choice.) But I actually didn't feel as guilty as I normally would. I had a toaster strudel this morning and a slice of left over frozen pizza for lunch. So I was so happy when I drove all the way home from work and mom had saved me food from dinner! But even with a normal dinner, I'm still out of whack from not eating. I love eating, I just don't ever have time to eat.

Wow, that was an pathetically long paragraph about food. I'm sorry, I know it is so impolite and boring to write about food! And I'm feeling nauseated anyway, so writing about vittles was an extremely poor decision... oh well! (And there I go again with the exclamation points!)

Maybe I should only write blog posts in the wee hours of the morning. The floodgates of my creativity are so weakened by sleep deprivation that they break open all the thoughts I would keep to myself while in a rational state.

I am really going to go to sleep soon, but I have to say one more utterance! (Okay, maybe more like 3 or 4.)

1. I saw TOY STORY 3. I loved it (I mean, is there any other way to feel about that movie?) I could really hype up this show, but it really stands alone. Just see it, and if you cry, that's okay, because I cried too.

2. I love my daddy. Happy father's day dad! I suppose I should make a Dad blog post just like I did for mother's day. Well... I will ... I guess. But I just get the feeling my pops aren't as sentimental about that kind of thing. I'll still do it though.

3. There are a total of 12 exclamation points in this post alone! Not okay! (13) Using exclamation points is like laughing at your own jokes. (Name that movie!) (14). Sometimes they are necessary, I think, especially in texting and such, because how else can you convey an excited and engaged tone? This is an endless puzzlement for me.

4. Speaking of puzzles... well, I'm not going to say anything about that. Mr. Hill does not read this blog, but YOU NEVER KNOW!

5. Speaking of Mr. Hill, after tomorrow he shall be called ELDER HILL. Although I've decided that when I get letters from him, they shall be called "Epistle of Paul." Because that's just cool.

14 exclamation points later and WAY TOO MANY CAPITALIZED WORDS, I end this tremendous blog post, which exhibits the extreme insanity of me. If you have read until the end, I commend you (as I often do). You are a brave soul.

-just little old me(g)

1 a.m.

I am going crazy.

It is 1 a.m., my new favorite hour of the day.

I usually get tired around this time a night, but because this is the third night in a row that I have stayed up this late, I am no longer fazed.

I have no sanity left. I didn't have much to begin with, anyway.

My filter is gone, so I'm sure I've offended Mr. Hill and several roommates and/or coworkers.

I have abandoned all attempts at eating healthy or excersizing. I cannot spell excersizing, and my spell check doesn't understand what I mean. I mean working out!

There is a wind storm. I hate wind. I can't sleep when wind is howling. So I might as well be working on my homework. Except I'm not working on my homework. I am writing a blog post and keeping my roommate awake. Nah, she can sleep through anything. (At least I hope).

If I had better judgement, I would do a ctrl a --> ctrl x [In other words, I would delete this]. But nope. I'm going to post it. And you're going to get a sense of how burnt out Megan is.

Loves.

-Megan