Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop

Well, I’ve officially survived my first round of senior midterms. Key word: survived. I didn’t say it was pretty, but hey – it’s over. In better news, round two starts next week, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. [insert extreme sarcasm – and excessive studying – here] To give you an idea of what the upcoming segment of my life looks like: project, midterm, midterm, paper, project. And that’s just the next two weeks… But all I’m thinking about right now (to get me through this academic hell) is watching The O.C. on rerun and eating some (thick and creamy) Mac and Cheese. Senioritis? Maybe. (Definitely.)

But as my crazy semester charges forward – and full steam ahead, at that – I’m thankful for all of the chaos and commotion. I don’t know how to live my life with any sort of vacant, dead space. I’m constantly hustling from A to B because I don’t know how else to do it. I’m not wired to have down time; I’m not wired to simply ‘do nothing’. Definitely sounds nice, but so does walking out of this class right now, and we all know that won’t happen (because he takes attendance).

I’m a girl on the move. I excel under pressure, time constraints and over-booking. I thrive on activity and a full schedule, and when I don’t have a stacked agenda? It’s great for all of 4.7 seconds, and then I’m more stressed, less productive and incredibly anxious.


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When all else fails: L A U G H


That doesn’t mean this crazy life filled with never-ending commitments (and far-too-little sleep) is always fun. It definitely isn’t perfect, but after 21 years, I know how I operate; I’m thankful for the ability to know myself, know my body and know my own personal needs. Now, don’t let me fool you. Meditation, (mediocre) cooking, writing and plans with friends are all in there, they’re scheduled – and written with pen, so they’re firm and nonnegotiable. I’m not a robot, and I never will (or want) to be, but I do need to be busy. Hence, I choose to scramble my way through life in survival mode and to take on (far) more than I can handle sometimes.

At times my life is one gigantic headache, but it’s uniquely mine, and it’s one that I’ve learned to function with. At some point I’ll reduce the chaos, slow my steps and increase the amount of vacant space in my Google Calendar. But as a 21-year-old with seemingly endless energy, I’m just enjoying the mayhem and embracing whatever craziness is thrown at me (or that I intentionally opt into).

And as nuts as this restless life may be (literally), I make sure to have constant reminders that this life is one to be thankful for and one worth cherishing: endless laughter, love, incredible company and an overdose of self-acceptance and respect.

I’m going a million miles a minute down the highway of life, and there’s no way I’m stopping anytime soon.

Keep doing you, as fast or as slow as that may be.

Gotta run, love…

-Megan

No Bra, No Brablems

Raise your hand if you hate wearing a bra.

[insert a bajillion emoji girls raising hands here]

They’re just not fun. They’re tight, pokey, hot, itchy, and just all around yuck. And don’t even get me started on pricey (the good ones, anyway). But before you assume I’m a total hippy and completely disconnect my life from yours (I promise, we’re not that different), let me make a disclaimer: as much as I hate to wear them, I do.

I’ll admit – they have some incredible uses (i.e. they’re great for running marathons, riding roller coasters and bumpy buses (me right now), diving into home plate (me 5 years ago), and wearing plain white tees). But they can also be incredibly cumbersome. And I often find myself wearing a bra even when I don’t need to: to bed, around the house, and under huge baggy sweatshirts as I roam Ralph’s at 10pm (I know, #sin). And as I continue to do this, the big question is: why?

Well, I feel pressured.


When you’re freeballin’ and the paparazzi catches you like…

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H E L L O


We’re constantly doing things just because everybody else is doing them. But how often do we stop and think: why am I doing this, and is it because I really want to? When I was a kid my mom used to discourage me from peer pressure (thanks, Ma) by saying “Well, if (s)he told you to jump off a bridge, would you?!” And of course, as a (sassy) child I would promptly say, “Of course not, Mom. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Yet the older I get, the more I recognize myself jumping – the more I’m giving into others’ ideas of goodness, normalcy, beauty, success, and perfection. The older I get, the more I realize that I’m just like everyone else, living in a sea of normalcy and trendiness, just trying to blend in.

But I don’t want to blend in. I don’t want to be just another one of the millions. I want to be one in a million. I want to stand up, stand out, and be different. And you should, too. Because you’re too perfect, too gorgeous, too valuable, and too you to not embrace and love yourself – all of yourself. Even the really (really) weird parts. Because remember: weird is good. And bras are (heavily) overrated.

Keep doing you and letting those girls go.

-Megan

A Note: On Missing Someone

It’s really easy. Everywhere you turn there’s something that reminds you of them and the way they’ve touched your life. From hearing that Taylor Swift song (again) on the radio, to wearing their clothes that you so graciously “borrowed,” just about everything sends you a shocking reminder that they’re no longer there. And although these constant memories are frequent, it doesn’t mean they’re bad.

Although, they feel bad. Really bad.

Some of the most influential people in my life are (sadly) no longer regulars. But that doesn’t mean that they didn’t (or don’t) matter or that I’m not (constantly) thinking about them. Because I am.

I often parallel missing someone to living by the ocean: the days all start the same – gloomy, chilly and no sign of sun. You never quite know if the fog and clouds are going to burn off. But hell, you might as well throw on that bikini, make a damn good cup of coffee (obviously in a french press), and hit the beach, because if you don’t, you might miss a killer tan. And what a waste of an opportunity.

You’ve gotta move on, you’ve gotta keep chugging, and you’ve got to stay positive. And as cliché (yet true) as it is: there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel.

[on that note: I’m blind – someone please help me find said ‘light’]

I was so incredibly lucky to have my mom and grandma in town this weekend, with a surprise guest appearance featuring: Auntie Kristie. There’s nothing quite like time with family to put a smile on your face, some (non-ramen) food in your tummy, and a little extra happiness in your heart.

There’s also nothing quite like family to help with missing someone. Missing them is easy, it’s how to live with missing them that’s hard. And when I totally figure it out, I’ll let you know. We’ve all got our $#!† (sorry, grandma) to work on.

Missing you, xo

-Megan