boys. girls. cooties.

When did we decide we wanted to catch cooties instead of run away and vaccinate ourselves from them? I don't know that I ever fully understood any of that. I was the girl next door who played baseball and basketball and tackled the boys in football. I thought cooties were stupid and I didn't understand why my girlfriends got all grossed out when a boy touched them, or why they thought my friendship with Garrett Anderson was so weird. Maybe that's why I never got acclimated to the cootie catching stage.

I think too, that's why I identify with Peter Pan. He doesn't believe in cooties, he just thinks Wendy is wonderful, and wants her to be with him forever and tell him stories and love him...even though he's not capable of ever loving her back. That's where I differ from Peter. I would be great at loving someone back. So I guess there, I'm more like Wendy. I don't want to grow up, but I know I have to, and part of me really wants to be a mother someday. That's about where my similarities with Wendy end. I would much rather be out with Peter fighting pirates and indians than stuck in the kitchen while the boys have all the fun. I don't fit with Peter because I'm not a boy, and I can't stand to be Wendy, the "angel in the home." I don't fit in any mold. People say that's a good thing, they make movies and write books in which the hero is this unique person who never compromises their beliefs and triumphs over all the negative people and events in his life because of that. In real life? Those Unique people are trampled on and pressed to fit in a mold their friends and family understand.

Personally, I love who I am. I love to cook and bake and I like to keep things orderly (most of the time). I love people, and I have a tendency to be very protective over my closest friends and family. I love little kids, and sometimes I'm most blissfully happy when I'm babysitting or playing with my cousins.(Wendy, right?) and I mean, I like boys, I think boys are wonderful, they just don't seem to have a similar opinion of me. I'm still the athlete, I'd rather watch Syracuse Basketball than the Bachelor any night and I tend to hide my true feelings from all but a few very close friends and my family. I love camping, in a tent, with a kayak in the middle of nowhere. I love to have long meaningful conversations with people, and just sit and listen to music and read poetry and drink tea/coffee/good beer with good friends. I love the rain and the way it makes me feel new and the way it inspires me to write.

I don't like the color pink (though I'm told it looks good on me) and I'm told I shouldn't be so opposed to it because that isn't feminine. I've been called a "boy" or "too much like a boy" by my friends and I haven't been on a date, in well...6 years. (and even then, it wasn't a great date) But then I'm not sure I agree with them on what's girly, or even if what's "girly" is the way I should act.

But When I think about myself and how I view myself, I don't understand why boys aren't interested in pursuing me. And I question if I should change and become that pink wearing, nail polished, bachelor watching girl. Why, when my best guy friends have a formal, I'm not invited, but my other girlfriends are. Dad says, "they want to take girls they want to date"...and why isn't that me? and how come, they aren't just taking girls they want to date, but girls they are "just friends" with and not me? Why I've been single all of my "cootie desiring" life. But I don't want to be that pink girl. It's not me, and if there's one thing I hate, it's being fake. But still I find myself asking, Why?

And I think it boils down to this. I think Cooties are stupid. I know, everyone says that, but do they really mean it? The 7 year old girl that giggles when a boy tries to hold her hand and says "ew he's trying to give me cooties" secretly loves the attention. I was never the girl boys wanted to give their cooties to (with the exception of this one kid who proposed to me in kindergarden and 1st grade...then asked for the ring back so he could give it to someone else in fourth grade. and he was pretty gross. I just took the ring cause i thought he would leave me alone...it didn't work)

But basically I never really understood the whole coy thing, I never understood being all giggly and silly because I never was that way. and maybe that makes me less feminine but I don't think so. I look at the Proverbs 31 woman and i hardly see her as the giggly, pink wearing, bachelor watching type. She's strong, loving, knowledgeable, a strong business woman, witty (i like to think) compassionate, a perfect match to her husband. She's the kind of woman who bakes snacks for the superbowl and then sits down to watch the game, actually understanding what's going on.

The problem? Why men don't see me as that woman yet? why I'm "just a friend"? I think they are still in the cootie catching phase, it's more about the thrill of the chase, the "adventure" as my dad puts it. They're not looking for the girl to settle down with yet, they might think they are, some of them might have even been lucky enough to have found her, but the others are running around trying to hold hands and get a giggle out of a girl. I think a third stage comes later, when they stop believing in cooties, when they are happy to just be with that one person, and aren't trying to catch their cooties or vaccinate themselves against them. but for now, they're in the cootie catching stage. They know I'm not the giggly type (I must give out some "you're going to have to try harder than that to flirt with me" ferimone) and they aren't ready to bother. At least that's what I tell myself. I hope I'm right on some level and not doomed to be single because I don't fit the mold.

I could be wrong on this whole cootie thing, but I'm pretty sure my problems with men can be summed up with this lovely example of my childhood. We were at the zoo on a first grade field trip, and I asked Mark Evans if I could talk to him in private. I brought him over to this little waterfall thing, and I told him I liked him and he ran screaming and hid behind his aunt who asked what was the matter. "She likes me" he said with disgust. "So?" said his aunt smiling at me, I bet she thought I was freaking adorable. "So that's gross! She has cooties!!" needless to say I was rather embarassed. 3 years later, when we played his team in soccer, my team hadn't won a single game, (mark and I had been on the same team the years before) and I bet him that we would win. Well, that game I had to play goalie. I hated goalie. I was always afraid of the big ball hitting me in the head, and of being the reason my team lost. I much prefered to play forward or middie and be the one scoring. But anyways, I played goalie. and here comes mark evans with the ball and saved it! my only save ever! (also I never played goalie after that so I never let them in either) and we won the game. Only game we won all season. take that mark evans. ...but that's how i am, i'm the girl who makes bets i'll kick a boys butt, and follows through. I want a man to love me for that. but I havent found one yet that hasn't run screaming.

I think I'm awesome just how I am, (and humble too) but it gets to be exhausting to be last picked everytime when you know you have the skills to be first pick. (i also have this issue when playing frisbee with boys... i tend to blow them away with my talent...i hope a similar situation occurs when I get married ;) ) You wonder what you're doing wrong, if you look weird or if someone told them something about you... I hope that I can find the right man, who recognizes I'm not a boy, and while I'm a good friend, and love people, I can be an even better lover. Who sees my strengths and weaknesses and isn't repulsed by my cooties, and doesn't care that I'm not giggly and pink. Who loves that I will watch sports with him not to humor him, but because we share an interest in them. I just hope. and wait for the cootie stage to end.

Moral of the Story: Cooties are stupid.

Friends, lovers, or nothing

Oh John boy, I have been let down.
I just finished listening to the new John Mayer album "Battle Studies" and the last 5 songs on the album (starting with his cover of Crossroads) are incredible! But it took suffering through the tech ridden effects, distortions and so so lyrics of the first 6 songs, (and the distortion at the start of Crossroads which I really don't like) to get me there. Now this isn't entirely fair. I got off to a bad start with the album thanks to the first song "Heartbreak Warfare" which I really didn't like at all and that kind of set the tone for the rest of the album. But some of those first 6 had really positive points to them. But they're nothing compared to the last 5. By the end of "Friends, lovers or nothing" I'm reminded why I love John Mayer, but for a while, this was not going to be a good review...
I was going to try to force it into a good review because I had what Dylan's fans did to him when he experimented with the new direction of Rock and Roll...but one of my main issues with Mayer is that he has serious talent as a guitarist, musician and he's a pretty good writer, but sometimes that gets lost in the poppy nature some of his studio work takes on. I guess I was hoping for a more soulful album, a deeper album, and some of the later songs are deeper, but you have to suffer to get there... But I promised not to write anything until I finished listening, and even then, I'm sure some songs will grow on me, and some songs like Assassin have great guitar. Overall I thought it was way too overproduced...and just once I would like to see Mayer reach his full potential with a studio album. So far continuum is my favorite but it is nothing compared to his live work with the trio.

I really just think he fell short of his potential with this album, but every artist is gunna have one mediocre album, mediocre novel, mediocre sculpture, I just hope this album isn't a sign of his new direction because, if so, I don't like where he's headed... maybe more listening will change that, but right now I doubt it. I hope he steps it up on the next album, leaves his pop following behind and follows his heart to the true deep music.

The Life of the Tortured Artist

There is a quality of madness associated with all great artists. They may try to deny it, but there is something within them that allows them to harness their creativity while forcing the rest of humanity to keep its distance. How then can an artist get in touch with humanity to create great works that are representative of the trials and struggles faced everyday by human beings? Perhaps this is why they are referred to as tortured artists. They are fighting against their nature to create a product that will satisfy their nature. It is a constant war with self and with the society they are try to represent and save.
The thing that scares me most is letting that madness free. I have kept a strong hold on the reigns all my life and I fear what will get out or where I will go if I allow that creativity to overrun me. To allow myself to be the empty vessel that the spirit pours into and I pour out. I don't want to loose myself...
But then sometimes I wonder, who would miss me? Who knows me well enough to see that I would be becoming a shell of what I was in order to reach my full potential and isn't that an ironic statement? Who would care? Who would support me? and what is the difference between being true to art and true to my art. Should I as artist fade to the background and let the work stand alone? and can I even do that? and what does that mean for who I am? and is the road of the artist always going to be lonely? Will I ever break down the walls and let humanity in even if it hurts?
I hate these feelings of inadequacy, loneliness, anger, frustration, fear, anxiety, and yet, the dark writer in my rejoices in them, it says to me, "look to those who came before you, those who also dealt with these issues and look what masterpieces came from them, you wanted to get in touch with the dark reality of humanity and here is your chance to write something that means something." But then I wonder if I will ever get back from there...Woolf didn't, Plath didn't, Hemmingway didn't... they were brilliant, tortured artists who left a strong vivid mark on the world, and yet, the world was too much with them, or for them, they could not stand to be here, the dark reality of humanity may have become too much for them...
As I get ready to graduate college I wonder what my mark will be on the world. and I wonder if I'll have to go it alone...I don't have anyone who can look at me and say "something's wrong let's go work it out, i'm here for you no matter what" and yet I am that for so many people, I am already pouring myself out and I can't do it anymore. I'm empty. I'm tortured. and I'm not sure it's making me such a better writer, it's just leaving me in a lot of pain; frustrated and confused. Maybe if I knew that my work, my art mattered to someone, maybe that would make me feel better about it, but I don't know if it does or ever will. What if I'm only tortured and I never become anything better? In my craft or sullen art I find solace but how long will that last, and is it ever enough?

Mawwidge

Ok so I'm walking to work this morning and I hear bagpipes, so I follow the sound wondering what it is and I see this big red banner and these guys in crew cuts and suits with like red capes with big signs that say Honk if you support God's true marriage, handing out flyers. and something about it hit a nerve. I was reminded of the HJ, which may not be fair to these boys and men, but never the less, I was. I'm not gay, and I don't support Gay marriage or the Gay lifestyle. I wish it weren't an issue, I wish our society was not so fallen than we reached the point where sodomy is a-ok where it was a sin in scripture. I think all sins are the same and I think God does too, the main problem I have with the Gay lifestyle is that so many people think it's not a sin, it's not a problem, and that I'm ignorant for thinking it is. ( I got nicknamed hitler by a few kids in high school for my beliefs, not really what you want, but in the end I realized it was their ignorance of my beliefs that led them to that conclusion)

anyways so these guys are handing out pamphlets and talking up the one true marriage, btwn 1 man and 1 woman, which I believe in, so why was a so upset? I think it was the way they were doing it, all men and boys, dressed as I already described chanting the "truth" about gay marriage. I know gay people, I have friends who have chosen that lifestyle and while I don't agree or condone it, I know how hurt they would be at a demonstration like that, but then again, do some of that community take into account how I feel when they destroy my views on marriage and the family? It wasn't like they were standing out there saying they hated gays or that these people should be eliminated, I just wasn't sure if that was too far from what some of them might think. but again, I suppose I'm judging and I shouldn't.

The thing is I can't agree with people who say you aren't born that way. I've known too many people struggle with their identity and really struggle with the feelings they have for the opposite sex in much the same way I struggle with lust to think they just choose it. Do I think they sometimes choose the "easy way out" and rather than fight the urge, go along with it, and think it's ok? yeah, but then how easy is that choice really?

I guess I'm not entirely sure how I feel about those guys on the corner, I wish I could have a better understanding of it, could understand why we let ourselves let sin in to such and extent that it takes over our identity. but we're flaud and we need God, and I hope that message is portrayed in those pamphlets on the street. I hope it's spread mouth to mouth, I hope it's shown in how we live and how we love, but I don't think it is nearly as much as it should be.

coffee conglamorate

Hi, My name is Megan, and I'm a Starbucks addict.
Not sure how it happened...ok I am I have this internship 3 days a week and don't have to be in till 11 but i hitch a ride with dad at 8 so im in syracuse by 830 or so, with nothing to do but sit and read. so I go to starbucks and blow 5 bucks every monday wednesday and friday and read for two hours (i usually end up dozing off somewhere in there too). now here is the thing, across the street from starbucks is this little home town coffee shop, Freedom of Espresso, there are a couple of them in Syracuse, and it has these brilliant paintings on the walls, but honestly, I've only gone in once, with emily, and it was hot and sticky and i had no desire for coffee in a hot and sticky room about the size of my living room. and so i realized in that moment, for all my hip-trendy desires, i'm leaning to the trendy side. i like starbucks like everyone else... oh well. "do I contradict myself? very well then i contradict myself. i am large, i contain multitudes. " so i sit and read my english major books in my air conditioned starbucks and get lattes and "perfect" oatmeal.- but not hot tea bc apparently the coffee conglamorate doesnt know you don't break the tea bags and get leaves all over every time-hmmph. but it's not so bad, mostly business ppl, but there are business ppl across the street too. and the music is good, indie or jazz, and i can sit on a comfortable couch in stead of a wobbly chair and read and be ignored rather than watched by the only other person in the shop, the guy behind the counter that just made my coffee.
so i like the corporation. so what. i'm going to end up working for the man anyways, might as well jump in with both feet...

Holes in my ears

Today I bought myself 3 new pairs of earings and Beloved. I also got House of Seven Gables out of the library and will finish the Tempest tonight (?). I have to go to work in half an hour which is lame, but I feel like I accomplished a lot today, mowed the lawn, had lunch with kate, played with sidewalk paint chalk. (my new favorite kid thing to do) and I am going to work. the three new pairs of earings were 60$ total, which is a lot. but it brings my earing total up to 8, so I don't feel so bad about it. I was getting a little tired of surgical steel hoops and plain gold studs, so I splurged.
Overall, today was a very good day.

The Tempest is my favorite Shakespeare play, although Othello and Richard III are close second and third. There's just something about the language and the plot that I have always loved. I remember reading it for fun in high school and reciting from it, and my teacher being so impressed bc he didn't even read it till college. what can i say? I'm kind of a big deal...anyways re-reading it now has just re-enforced why I love it. Especially after having read and studied more shakespeare than midsummer, caesar and R&J. It has a lot of depth and the language really is some of his best. I look forward to house of seven gables (Hawthorne yay!) but I'm relishing what I have left of shakespeare. When I finish tempest and abolition of man, I'll have finished 5/12 of my books for the semester. maybe i'll even get to reading some hemingway or kerouac for fun at the end of the summer...but I doubt it. At least I'm really enjoying what I'm reading. :)

Need a moment?

This weekend, I went to women of faith in Rochester, I was the youngest one there out of our group for the weekend, which wasn't easy. And I got almost no downtime to relax and process. But honestly, those are my only complaints, and their not that important. While I really wish I had more time to sleep or just enjoy the extremely comfortable bed in our hotel room, I was pretty energenic the whole weekend, until about 12 today when I crashed. God is so good. The speakers were encouraging, and mom and I got to spend time alone together, which we've never done before. (and we didn't kill each other!)
Something I really struggle with is being single. I think that there must be something wrong with me, that this is some trial I'm going through. Well throughout the past year God has been trying to convict me that this is a season in my life I have to go to, and that I have opportunities to serve him as a single woman, that I will never have again. This weekend, Lisa Harper got up and spoke. She's 45 and single and would love to be married if God decides to put the right man in her life, but as she puts it "360 days of the year I'm happy to be single" and you know? I am too, most days I don't think about it or throw myself a pity-party, but then there are those times when I have to bury a dead goat in the middle of the night and my pants are falling down and i think, "what the heck God?" (note: i dont have a dead goat...harper does) Needless to say I bough both her books...why? not because I thought there would be some miracle answer as to how to get a man (clearly hasnt worked for her if there is) but because I want to learn how I can use this "trial" as a ministry. If I'm ever 45 and single (Please, God, don't...) I want to be Lisa Harper. up there on stage telling women how God will use us even when we're a perfect mess, or we don't have it all together or we are single and don't have kids and so on. Because, I want to be a firefly (like patsy clairmont) and no one likes a firefly that whines and mowps about, bc they don't give off a very bright or enticing light. I have joy in the Lord and I want to shine and show that joy to the world despite my circumstances...which I realized this weekend, are pretty freaking blessed. so, do I LOVE being single? not yet, will I ever? maybe, can God use me if I let him? Heck yes! and I'm pretty excited to be used because I know my worth in my father's eyes and I want to let other women know they are princesses despite what the world thinks.