Grey Goops

"Grey goop" means a lot of text without anything to break it up. This is a bad thing in the design world. Pictures are wonderful because they are a visual element among all the words. Words are boring things. Pictures are not. Pictures are exciting, and one can digest them quickly.

I like pictures. I'm glad people take pictures. As a designer, I'm so happy pictures exist. I love designing with huge pictures.

But as a writer, and a woman, I sort of hate them.

Sometimes I'll write these long, lovely things, (at least I think they're lovely) and I think about them a lot. I think they're funny. I try to get all the grammar right. I try to be witty and funny and profound.

But when I show the finished product to someone -- whether it's a blog post or a book or a scrapbook page -- I get complemented on the picture or graphic. It's nice to be complemented on anything. But the picture was just there to draw the reader in. I know from a fact my blog posts with pictures get way more views than ones without. I'd just hope that the picture helped the reader actually find interesting content to read.

As a woman, I get fed up with the visual taking over everything. I like getting complemented on the way I look. It's nice to feel beautiful. And often people saying those nice things don't really know me, so the only thing they have to say is about how I look. But how I look isn't what is important about me. Fashion is fun, but it's not my substance. I just feel despair sometimes because I feel that's all anyone cares about. It is all anyone has to say, and I know it's because they have nothing else to say about me so they have to say something about my hair, or my outfit or my shoes. One day soon I'll be really ugly, and I might wear really ugly clothes, and then what? What will people say to me when they have nothing to say? Will they lie? I don't know.

I'd rather be complemented on my writing, or my college degree, or how I'm really hilarious or good at Scrabble or something. Or maybe not complemented at all! I love it when people just listen to me and talk to me about interesting stuff. I like when people read my "grey goop." That is the greatest complement of all.

Because it is hard to feel confident. I'm looking for a job and it is stressful. I'm trying to remain positive and hopeful, but it doesn't help when all everyone seems to talk about to me is just how I look. Because how I look doesn't help me get a job or help me feel important or useful. It's just a nice thing, like dessert. It isn't essential.

I don't even consider myself that pretty. I'm alright with that. I'm glad I have a working body and I'm content with the way I am. Most of the time I'd like to think beauty is irrelevant, but I know deep down that to the world, it's one of the most important things. I don't want to give into that shallowness, but at the same time, I have acknowledged that it's a good thing to dress up and look cute so people notice you. So that maybe, someone will be drawn in and read the grey goop: the interesting stuff that just looks boring.

So this is a test. How many people will read this post despite having no picture? (In the bloggersphere, pictureless posts are almost unheard of.) How many people care about what I think? I know not many, but I find comfort knowing that there are a few people out there, like my family and Sam, who do listen to my opinions, my thoughts, my worries, and my dreams. I think it's alright to talk about things besides muffins, parties, and cute hairdos on blogs. I want to talk about deep things, even if it's not as flashy or fun.

Thanks for reading my grey goop.

-Meg

I lose about everything except sleep

I am frustrated with myself.

I slept in until 1 p.m. Do you realize what this means? I have been up for 3 hours and it's almost 4 p.m. I mean, what can I do about that? My phone was on silent this morning, but if it hadn't been, I'm pretty sure I would have slept through it anyway. I'm the heaviest of sleepers.

I can't communicate without sounding like a blubbering bag of nonsense, because I'm not a morning person, even if it's in the afternoon. Sorry world, I'm on a different schedule than ya'll.

I'm in one of those moods where I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know what I want to eat, or what I want to watch. I did try to clean a little bit today, but I got tired, so I stopped mid dish scrub and spent an hour on Pinterest.

I lose everything important. I usually get it back, though. (Thank you dear couple who found my phone lying on the road and returned it to me.)

Yesterday was fun though. Sam and I went to the temple and watched Downton Abbey (a show we are so obsessed with. So magical) and we went to a gymnastics meet, had a spontaneous trip to Neilsen's Frozen Custard. Then we watched a scary movie, that now doesn't seem so scary now that's it's day time.

I just need to remember how happy and optimistic I was last night so I can stop being a grump today.

The end.

-Meg

p.s. Does anyone know any way I can help myself wake up at a decent time? I want to sleep in, because it's the weekend, but this 1 p.m. stuff is ridiculous. 

Observations on The Bachelor

I watched The Bachelor. Let me justify this act: So the break got the best of me. Boredom set in, and I was caught up on all the New Girl episodes. 

My observations:

First of all, the entire concept is a bit strange. Think about it--let's get a bunch of twenty-somethings who all claim they are ready to find "the one" and throw them in a house together. Let them wear more makeup than clothing. Put one attractive single guy in charge of narrowing them down, eliminating them one by one until he finds the woman he wants to marry.

If you didn't watch the first episode of that season, it's OK. The rest of the post will still make sense. It may, however, make you throw up in your mouth. Don't say I didn't warn you.

My first impression was that everything was so fake. That's a crazy way to describe reality TV, I know. This makes me doubt everything! So if love isn't like the scripted movies... is it really that awkward and shallow as reality TV and nobody notices?

All the girls (contestants?) seems so nice in their intro videos. Each one makes me say, "aww, she's so cute and unique!" They talk about their life, and then there's a wide shot of her walking the streets of her home town, in a breezy blouse and short shorts, taking in the sights and sounds of her surroundings...

But then I see them on the show and I'm so disgusted. There's so much cady drama and competition. Like really? It's a bit over my head. I know I would hate to have all that competition. You have to be loud and if you don't stand out, the bachelor won't give you a rose. (That means she gets to stay in the house longer.)

All this begs the question: What if he don't like forward, brash women? Is that a qualification to be the bachelor? 

If I wasn't in an amazing relationship filled with mutual understanding and respect, I'd find myself getting extremely self-conscious about my flirting (not to mention my own pensive strolls). Because every girl acts so weird when she flirts. Do I look so awkward? Do I endlessly comment and stroke guys' hair and recite meaningless rehearsed pick up lines? Do I throw my head back and laugh just because I want him to think I'm a funny gal?

I'd like to think no, especially since I'm not competing with anyone for Sam's affection. (And I can say that with some certainty.)

There's a lot of squealing and "sexy!"

There's a lot of crying.

There's a lot of walking. You know, the kind of strolling that humans do all the time--hands in pockets, deep thoughts about love and life bouncing around in your head, all the while looking gorgeous, completely oblivious to the camera following your every step.

One good thing:

There is a girl named Elyse, and that's my middle name. That's cool.

Back to weird things:

How long did it take them to think of their first entrance? One at a time, each girl walks out of the limo and greet the bachelor. (I think his name is Ben. You'd think I'd remember after 1 and a half hours. But I was just trying to get the girls' names down.)

Some are kind of cool, but most have these weird quirky pick up lines that try to both to attract him and make him remember something unique. For instance, the law student girl was all, "the verdict is in... you're guilty... of being hot!"

(All they talk about is how hot he is. To fair, that's all they had to go on the first day. And that's really all he said about them. Because that's all that matters.)

Another girl just walked right by... being cool. She didn't talk to him. Not a word. Guess what? She didn't get a rose. Sorry hun, you might have to study up on the grammar of body language. And before you tell me she's a just shy girl, I'd like to refute that shy girls don't give guys looks like that.

Most of the girls blended together to me, despite their clever first lines and crazy attire. I can't tell them apart because most of them look the same. Usually I do remember if they're a blonde or a brunette though. To viewers of previous seasons: Has a redhead ever been on?  Now I'm curious. I also wonder why they are all white. No Asians or Hispanics or Blacks? 

One last thing:

The model is the ugliest girl there. And she kind of looks like Ursula when she comes up onto dry land.

Photo

She kind of acts like it, too.

Oh, and before I forget, one more good thing:

A girl showed up on a horse! She was cool, too. She seemed natural, and real real, not just reality real. So far, anyway...

I don't know if I want to watch the rest of the season. But I am curious how this grandma lady fits in. (Ya, there was a grandma. I'm kind of confused.) 

Starting on Monday, I'll have school to keep me busy, so I won't have to resort to watching reality TV. Say yay!

-Meg

Sadness...

I now appreciate Steve Jobs' contribution to technology more than ever now that my iPod is gone. It was stolen today.

It was by my own folly and I took it relatively well I think. My iPod's name was Dr. Who.

I hope whoever has my beloved Dr. Who is enjoying my insanely lofty Pocket Frogs level and my mildly accomplished Angry Birds status.

Before he or she sells it on Ebay, I hope they utilize the dictionary app. to fill a crossword puzzle. I hope he or she plays some Scrabble, too.

I bet he or she finds enjoyment in Tetris and Robot Unicorn attack and reads a poem or two from my Poetry App.

And I'm certain that if he or she takes a gander at my music, he or she will be impressed at the variety and oddity of my collection. It is random and beautiful, and it took a long time to build up.

When I get a new one (notice it's WHEN not IF), I'm going to get a bigger one (Dr. Who was only an 8g). That's a plus. 

No one usually reads this blog, but I got an insane amount of traffic from a few sketchy sources. So if you're out there, iPod stealer, know this. That was an object I loved. Treat it well.

And those headphones? They were awesome. Appreciate those awesome headphones.

-Meg

Salmon Cakes

I knew I there had to be a reason I stayed up late:

I call it the Matthew Chain.

Today was a good day, full of running, gardening, organizing, and taking over the world. But today also included cooking Salmon Cakes.

Not successful.

My mom will tell you they tasted wonderful, and maybe they did. She's probably just saying that because she's my mom and she has to.

The salmon cakes I had were drenched in cilantro dressing, so I couldn't taste them, not like I can taste much anyway. I opened the new bottle of dressing, and by accident I poured too much on.
This are they. Disgusting-looking, I know. My mom makes them much more beautifully.
This is the one that fell apart. Putting it on the Harry Potter plate slightly redeemed it.
The corn was boiling. This was at the height of my anxiety. I'm trying to make cakes out of mushed up salmon, mayo, and breadcrumbs, so my hands are messy and gloppy, and the water's boiling over the pot, and I'm trying to remember which cakes have been on the pan the longest and which ones need to be turned over... [I do not like cooking].

-just little old me(g)