Lovely Love

I'll just sleep in. Just until I can breathe through my nose again. Just a few more minutes...snooze button pressed. "It's okay, I can skip yoga for the day" I say to myself. Heart heavy and eyes raw, the embarrassment and hardships of the past week hit full force. The thick guilt sinking me down into the mattress feels like gasoline in the pit of my stomach...why has it come to this?

Reluctantly, I pulled myself up, imaginary strings hoisting me up from my shoulders, lifting me out of my melancholy morning. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Release it and move on.
An hour later, full of freshly squeezed juice, on my mat staring down at my sparkly pink toes - a color chosen for the very specific reason that it was a pretty color - I hear the slosh of my homemade fruit deliciousness in my stomach as I stretch, and giggled. I said....see, this is how you love yourself.

I don't go places alone. It is irrationally scary to me, so I avoid it at all costs. On this particular day, I had so much to do, and no one to do it with. Feeling anxious, letting my unnecessary panic decide the course of my day was not an option. It was up to me to get things accomplished. So I decided to set my goals. Getting up and going anyway, while my insides spin out of control. I will do it. Just like holding the pose all the way through - pushing your body to keep going when your mind teases you telling you that you can't. Staying in the uncharted, when I want so desperately to run somewhere "safe" - which is really just somewhere hidden -- these are the ways I can love myself.

I stared at the list, of my 'to-dos' - none of which included my 'to-enjoys', and while en route to check off all the items, I found myself instead at Barnes and Noble. Sitting in the isles, cranking my neck up to see what other delicious (vegan) cooking books I can get my hands on without moving. Then searching high and low for a new novel to indulge in - seeking Hemingway for words that will ground me. I walked away with Hafiz, a book of baking, and a caramel soy iced coffee. This is me loving myself. 

I told the nice woman at the check out who looked miserable that I had spent most of the day sitting on the floor painting my nails princess pink and writing my lists for the day in crayon....she cracked a smile and said she didn't like working the weekends. Not a total success, but at the very least I now revealed that I am a little odd and wanted to talk to someone. When you want to talk, talk. Tell people stories, without asking them first. When you have extra glitter, make your nails sparkly. Have glitter, in fucking general. Smile at strangers even if they don't smile back -- these are the ways I can show some love.

Not worrying about the time or checking my cell phone, I sat and I listened. I paid attention to where I was. To the old man reading the same page in the paper for 50 minutes -- which meant he wasn't reading at all, but was probably listening too. I listened with him. I wondered if he heard the same things? Ask yourself questions, even if there aren't any answers. Drink coffee because its delicious, even if it's not the healthiest choice. Wonder what a 60 year old man wearing Converse sneakers does with his days when he's not mindlessly staring at the paper. Imagine that he can fabricate a dozen hats with that one newspaper - that he used to be a middle school science teacher with a propensity for bird watching and has a collection of rare Pez dispensers. Make up funny stories in your head. These are the ways I can love for myself. 

I watched the couple that walked out holding hands, delighted with their morning together, fluttering with joy,  as they kissed by the car. It was innocent - sweet. She left - he waled back holding his bag of books. I watched him smile and thought - how lovely that I got to witness how happy he is... I wonder if she can feel him smiling. He got into his car and called someone - I could just imagine by his face what he was telling the person at the other end of the line- how delightful his day was with this wonderful woman. He was beaming. It was such a lucky moment to observe - one that I would have missed had I been texting or checking Facebook. In that fleeting moment I felt ok being out alone. These are the ways I allow myself to love alone.

Tell your friends all the details. Grin the kinda goofy infectious grin. Tell that horrible joke that puts you in stitches every time. Share those thousands of pictures of your dog because who doesn't smile at animals? Compliment that awkward adolescent cashier and smile. Feel insanely thrown off your game, then let the amount that you keep it cool be zero. Let someone in and let them make you feel completely exhilarated. - these are the ways I can love others. 

When you can walk, but feel like driving...walk. Park far away so you have to. When you have lingerie, wear it. When you find your favorite poem, read it ten times in a row out loud so you can hear your pretty feminine voice. Listen. Hear yourself the way other people do. Eat a spoon full of frosting when your making those scrumptious cupcakes. Test your guilt meter and tell it to fuck off. Make a purchase in anticipation of something. For instance, I bought the sparkiest pair of high heels, with no where to wear them. I anticipate that someday, the occasion will arise, that doesn't include cleaning the apartment.

When you want to look soft, like the girl who wants to open her heart...the girl who wants to stay up late and to talk about her reoccurring dream of her and the clouds, then whisper some of her most tender admissions....be that girl now. You don't have to wait for someones acknowledgement to unfold your tough exterior. Unfold yourself. These are the ways I can show myself love. 

When you feel like your life is wrapping its fingers around your spirit, clenching its fists around your energy, pushing its strong hands on top of your head in attempt to say "STOP GROWING" - push back. It's a test. When you wonder if you're invisible, or perhaps no one will love you or see you, or that you may have to compromise your spirit because 'that's just life'...remember that the ground beneath you will always support you - that the heart that's beating inside your chest is always going to be your steady companion and that your life is yours. That you decide to let yourself shine. That the only person who can switch your inner light on and off is you. These are the ways I will love myself - lights on

Listen to Hall & Oates, to Whitney and Sinatra. Sing out loud. Create for the sake of creating, whether anyone will ever see it or not. Dance naked, feel absolutely ridiculous and awesome at the same time. Admit you need to be held and touched and don't feel sorry about it. Tell your friends you need alone time - make less excuses and more declarations. Tell yourself you look nice today. Spend an extra ten minutes in the shower. Make silly faces at a baby. Tell someone else that you think they are beautiful if you're thinking it, even if you're at the bank, or a loud bar where everyone is trying to act cool, but everyone really needs someone to tell them they already are. Read people's name tags, look them in the eye. Siegfried at Joey's makes me super happy. What a great name.

Remember that the judgments you make towards yourself are harsh, tactless and unnecessary. That you pretty girl, are a delicate, extraordinary miracle. Speak accordingly. And love your lovely self.


My Story

My voice was quivering, stuttering even, in a strikingly fearsome cord with great melancholy—such melancholy, that rapidly transmitted the pain from inside, projecting it through my lips. The words I never dared emit densely clouded the room, as I watched them seep into his body, quaking all he had known. Just days before we were cheerfully entwined, carelessly interacting – it was the ultimate simplicity. After listening to the momentary excitement of his voice, there was a particular urge I had to continue to hide within everything that has been tearing at me to be set free. For twelve minutes, I sat in silence, hearing nothing louder than a distant noise; the casual conversing of the television, in a tone too indecipherable for interpretation.

Thirty seven more seconds went by and I had just contemplated turning away from the truth, when unexpectedly, a huge breath exhaled as it projected towards him — as the air around me became icy, as if the inexistent, present essence wanted me to freeze, to continue talking, continue with my initial intent. It was only seconds before a strain in my voice was emitted, as it broke the word "please" into three segments—three dreadfully agonizing wheezes separated each, as it revealed the sound of struggle. I couldn’t turn back now; it was time to release the ghosts for the first time. For moments I stalled, speechless; recollecting the events; reliving the moments – second by second – the sights, scents, faces, sounds – hearing every word, every noise like I was right back there again - listening to the voice of a girl as she was tolerating two potent hands, empowering and imprinting themselves on the very fragile bones she had.
I had to turn it off, and I had to shut my eyes. How could I tell him my secrets when I could hardly face them myself?



Dear husband-to-be,

I have a leaky left eye. This means I sometimes have to do my makeup twice. I don't know what causes it. It's has leaked for as long as I can remember. And because of this, I will often be late. And then other times I will show up to wherever with only one eye done.
I'll cry at the silly things. And I won't always say the right thing. Half the time I won't actually say anything at all -- chalk it up to my Irish roots -- and you have no idea what I'm thinking or feeling. But I'll work on this.
I'll dance around the house in just my socks and underwear. A lot. And I'll expect you to join in.
I'll always play in the snow. Snow fights. Snow angels.
I'll want to wake up in the middle of the night--the silent night-- when the snow is untouched. and I'll pretend that we--just the two of us-- make up the whole world.
I'll sing in the shower. The kitchen. The car. In the middle of your favorite show. And that's how you'll know I'm happy.
I'll dust and vacuum and I'll chuckle at your dirty socks under the bed or in the bathroom. But when I ask you not to leave them there I'll expect you to comply.
And I'll only hope for surprises. Silly ones. Little ones. Or flowers....for at least a little while.
Our kids will be raised near my family. It's most important to me that my parents and siblings are enormous roles in their lives.
We'll have enough room for trucks and toys. We'll go on walks with our dogs. And make friends with the neighbors. The kids will be creative. And we will teach them all about the outdoors and knot-tying. The girls can dance, and the boys will sign up for little league because their grandpa will love it. Their grades will be good. And they will be safe and we will be happy.
And maybe we'll live on a dirt road. Surrounded by trees. And we'll make our own history. And we'll make our own roots.
And we'll go riding and always make time for each others in-laws. And we'll exchange homemade gifts and start silly traditions. I love silly traditions.
And if you'd let me I'd marry you in the winter. While it's snowing. Just so long as I could see your eyes.
I'll never be the perfect wife. The put-together wife. I'll listen to corny music and watch too much t.v. And I'll eat too many M&Ms. And you'll have to eat the blue ones.
And I will bake you so many treats. And surprise you with your favorite meal every now and then. Don't expect it to be perfect. There is a big difference between cooking and baking. I will throw spaghetti at the wall because that's what my mom taught me. I probably won't cook all too often because I make a mess and forget things. So I'll need you for that.
I'll make a mean salad and help the kids make jello and the cupcakes for the school bake sale.
Oh and I have an OCD like obsession with showering. And sometimes I'll wake up at night to play solitaire. And I'll wear a blanket like a dress. I have footie pajamas. You'll have to tolerate them for a season. And please don't lay on my pillow.
I'll always want to play board games. And when we go to the beach I won't walk around for hours because there is always too many people-- I hate crowds. But that won't stop me from spending all afternoon bobbing up and down in the waves.
And at Christmas time I'll need you to drive around the suburbs with me  just to see all the lights. We'll watch 'It's A Wonderful Life' and classic children's movies. And we'll snuggle and drink hot chocolate.
And we'll kiss each other like it's the first time.

Just so you know.



Oh and for your sake, don't interrupt me when I'm writing/blogging.


thank you

So, November.

Let's think....what does November bring us? Hopefully not another nor'easter.

Ahh yes...Thanksgiving. Of course.

Wait, what's that about again? I'm having visions of turkey (and tofurkey), stuffing, mashed potatoes, and pre-school when you dressed up like a pilgrim one day, and an Indian the next (Now a Native American, but back then political correctness hadn't quite taken hold) and visiting family of course. 

What was my point...

Oh yes, so Thanksgiving has a something to do with sharing, right? Or maybe it's as easy as this... giving thanks. 

In light of Thanksgiving being around the corner, and my oddly gratuitous mood this afternoon, I want to share what I am thankful for -- and give thanks.

I am thankful....

for hitting the jackpot in the lottery of families, even if they think I am prone to make bad choices.

for the experiences I have encountered thus far in life that have convinced me to start this thing.
for Big and the fact that he makes me laugh uncontrollably and has an uncanny ability to turn me to mush.

for the sound of rain. It's my favorite thing in the world. Sometimes I'll shut all the lights off and turn on my thunderstorm noise maker and just pretend for hours.

for Daddy Considine, who's given me the tools to begin chipping away at that all consuming thing known as ego.

for my love and indulgence in verbose and historic language.

for books, books, books. Most especially those that smell old.

for magnetic poetry.

for my sisters, my side kicks, my childhood tormentors, and now my great loves from two towns over.

for Danny my (big) little brother who undoubtedly will be making millions in the next ten years.

for those few glorious years we had with Olivia.

for the small town I grew up in and all of its eccentricities. Even in the times when I wished it would disappear.

for George, the little putz who stole my heart over a decade ago.

for my huge bed. A girl could get lost in there for days. In fact, I have.

for the friends and family and few, who have always supplied the support and selective love that has made me as strong as I am today.

for the love of my family


Food for Thought...

Why is it that people feel the need to harass me--and other vegetarians/vegans alike?

Seriously, I've been "vegan" for not even 24 hours, and I'm already on the verge of exploding. 

I get it -- you don't understand why I up and decided to go vegan after 21 years of eating whatever the hell I want. Well let me shed some light for whoever wants to get on my case about what I decide to eat -- like it has anything to do with you anyways. 

I have ADPKD. Autosomal Dominant Polycystic Kidney Disease.   << Go ahead, click it. 
If you are too lazy, ADPKD is a disease in which your kidneys eventually blow up from cysts and you die. 
I also have horrendous and debilitating migraines 2-3 times a week, and outrageously high blood pressure. so much so that I was sent home from school once because I was a liability and could have had a heart attack. 

I am not effect in my day to day life by these untimely health blunders, however, it won't be very long before they do start to take a dangerous toll on my health and body. I don't know about you, but when I am urged by multiple doctors to consider these inevitable consequences, I listen.

Veganism isn't a damn nazi cult. Granted there are some muppets out there who take it way too far, that's certainly NOT me.

So what, I cut out meats and animal products. Big deal. There is ONE person who this decision effects and it's only me. I'm not going rouge and throwing out all my clothes and makeup and other possessions that may contain traces of animal by-products. I'm not protesting meat-eaters, or setting lobsters free at Wal-Mart. And I most certainly not shoving my dietary choices down ANYONE'S throat. So I'd appreciate it if people could show me the same courtesy. I eat 95% of my meals ALONE every single day. I have my own apartment, buy my own food, and really never ate any of those non-vegan foods regularly anyways. 

Being a nanny, I had to make the kids dinner tonight -- in fact they are sitting on either side of me eating right now -- chicken nuggets and mac n' cheese...then choco-tacos for dessert. And the older one feels the persistent need to intentionally wave her freaking food in my face. Laugh it up girl -- it's all fun and games until I throw it on the floor because you're antics are annoying the bitch out of me and then make you eat salad for dinner. Normally I could hold a light heart and ignore it. But I am not choosing to be vegan. I'm not trying to save the animals. Granted I love animals so super much -- but c'mon....the human race has been eating meat since the beginning of time. I'm becoming vegan for the sake of living. I'm taking an unpleasing leap for my health. For the prospects of hopefully getting married and having a healthy family, and not dying on them before my kids or nieces and nephews hit puberty. I am doing this for my body -- for my heart. To maybe prolong the commencement of negative effects brought on by things out of my control. I want to be healthy. I want to feel good and be happy. And having a vegan diet is a way to do this -- for me. 

So please, try to keep the derogatory comments to yourself. It's not helping. 


My "best friend evaa and our foolish adventures" -- Why haven't I done this yet?

Just so everyone knows....today, I vaguely -- and with a mild rhetorical undertone-- inquired facebook of my next blog post would be about. I got one plausible option about judgement (which I have brainstormed before--someday I'll do it), one deep and discovering idea, and as I can always count on her, one simply fun idea. My best friend Jess flawlessy suggested, "about your best friend evaa and our foolish adventures."...oh and "how pimpin' comes easy to smokeshows like us." This is why I love her.

Jealousy Is What Makes You A Hater

I am not going to write about how easy "pimpin" is for us --or if we even 'pimp' for that matter--but I am going to write this time about one of my favorite ladies to with with, Miss Jessica Main.

This girl is the shit. She makes me laugh; keeps it real; and when life gets to be just a little too much to handle, she's there to bring me back from the edge and surely make me crack a few smiles--and beers. She is the fun-loving carefree friend that everyone needs -- the one who you are a complete duface with and don't give two craps about what people think; the one you get in trouble with; be reckless with and is right there cheering you on while you make those crucial poor life decisions. we share the same fashion sense (clearly), the same taste in music, the same love for shoes, men, attention, drinks, humor, being 'smokeshows', and of course, the same love for ourselves. She just get's me. Knows more about me than anyone-- and not just the dirty little secrets, the gigantic filthy dirty things-you-only-read-about secrets -- and the best part is I know hers too. She's that friend who you swear is your e x a c t  twin in every way imaginable. I could go on for hours about what makes this broad my best friend evaa. But for the sake of brevity, Jessica Main is bitchin', and this is my tribute to her.

The trials and tribulations of girls in waiting.
It's almost scary how many times we've been dawning the same outfits.

I wanted you all to know about the other parts of my life -- the not so serious ones -- that make the day-to-day worth while. And I wanted you all to see her, that is for those who don't know her. I wanted to show you the fun side that I do have and who brings it out the best.

Here it is.  A glimmer of the other part of me. And there she goes again, yanking out the exciting Meaghan that habitually forgets to creep out of an almost too serious scatter-brain to just enjoy life and live.

On a side note - There have been a handful of commenters that aren't afraid to reveal their identity -- Jess being the first to ever leave a little gem under her own name (And for all others, I love you for it as well!) -- among the many other 'anonymous' blog dwellers, who I want to thank deeply for your insights on my own.
You inspire me and your generous input makes me super happy!

So for all you people out there (known and unknown, friends and family) who venture into my viral world with no promise of a post about you, I offer my thanks. Your comments give me more joy than you ever may know. I love comments, I love getting them, and I invite more people to leave them. I think getting a blog comment is kind of like being five years old and getting an unexpected letter from somewhere you've never been. And I'm even gonna put an end to my own blog-lurking ways and leave comments...who knows, you may find one coming your way soon (I hope so, or else I have yet to discover your gift of a blog--but no worries I'll get there eventually).

Love, love, love to lurkers and best friends and brave commenters alike,

Mount Monadnock 

Enjoy our car aerobics!



Today it is raining--and as I hear, it's snowing too.
Per usual, the facebook community has a cornucopia of choice words for the current precipitation situation--how dare it rain...it's ruining the entire day...shocking.

I however am enjoying this weather. I'm so very thankful for it.
For the clouds, and the grayness, and even the bit of looming gloom.
There is something magical about a rainy day. And while I'd love nothing more than to just stay in bed with some hot tea, warm socks, and a new book -- it's just not in the cards.

Instead, the cards today forecast day-old-dirty-hair and a grocery list of thing I've been putting off--of thins I should probably do to keep my little bubbly self afloat. Like go to the bank. Go for a run. Do my laundry. Clean my apartment--hell, just finish unpacking. And maybe even head to the kitchen tonight to actually make myself something to nourish the body and give my oven a workout.

Today, despite the rain--I am happy.
Plain-old-fashion-straight-from-the-heart happy.
Happy with myself. Happy with the life I've made. And happy to have the greatest most supportive friends and family members to share this with.

The day is half over, but whatever I end up accomplishing -- or not even attempting, I'm going to do it wearing the biggest smile. I love people who smile when it's raining.
So off I go, to share some smiles.