12 People Pleasing Things

So my friend posted this list the other day on his Facebook: 9 things about himself. I was intrigued, as I’ve known him forever and a day and I’ve never seen him do something like that. So I read it. His final item was a coming out. I automatically clicked “like” because I’m very happy that’s he’s comfortable with who he is, and is willing to share that part of him with the world.

I’m less happy because I neglected to read the bit that said “push like if you want me to give you a number so you can share things about yourself!” and before I could rescind my like I had a message from him.

“Megan, I miss you!  Your number is 12.” I tried to weasel out of it.   

“Haha, I totally didn’t see that part of the deal until after I liked your status.”

“Well, now you just got roped into doing it.” And because I’m a people pleaser, I’m doing it. Not as a status, because I don’t want to force any other poor unsuspecting folk into revealing between 1 and 28,475,345 things about themselves for liking a post—Aaron—but as a blog post.  Because I’ve been looking for inspiration anyway.

1. On Monday, I was tired. I had stayed up far too late on Saturday and on Sunday.  Far. Too. Late.  Even for me. Which is not news to any of you; but it’s going to be one of my things because I do that.
2. I was so tired, in fact, that during my Monday afternoon nap, I woke up realizing that I had drooled on my hand. But, my friends—this is not the end of that story. As I floated to the edge of consciousness and registered drool I thought “Ew. This needs to be gone.” I wiped the drool on my cheek, snuggled back into the cushions into a slightly less upright position, put my hand back under my face and went back to sleep.
3.  To preface this item, I’ll need you to know that 1.Mary makes awesome cranberry orange bread. 2.Mary was watching the Hobbit. 3.Mary went to the store to buy eggs for her cranberry orange bread briefly after I fell asleep.  Understood?  Good.  During another portion of this nap (I can’t really tell you whether it was before or after the drool.) I awoke suddenly to a man’s voice calling out “Hello? Is anybody home?” I jerked awake. I glanced over the kitchen, trying to chase the sleep from my heavy limbs. My heart was racing. Whatwasthatwhowasthatwhereishe? There’s a strange man in my house. DID I FORGET TO LOCK THE FRONT DOOR?   WHERE IS MARY!? DID SHE LEAVE ME ALL ALONE AND ASLEEP AND NOT LOCK THE FRONT DOOR!? WHAT IF I DIE!? I blearily glanced around and realized that Bilbo was looking for the dwarves. Gandalf and the dwarves had left him in the night. My heart calmed, I fell back onto the couch.  I blessed my Hobbit knowledge and promptly fell back asleep
4. I am not going to be able to keep up the pattern of creating progressively longer “things” for each number listed here.
5. One of the things in this world that makes me happiest is food. In fact, the Boy once told me the happiest he had ever seen me was sitting across from him eating Wendy’s chicken nuggets.   And let’s be honest—there are a lot of tastier things than chicken nuggets.   
6. I have a happy dance. When I eat food I really, really, really like with people that I really, really, really like.  I do this little dance thing.  It’s more like a bob back and forth.  It’s a little bit embarrassing. I obtained the nickname “Jiglet” for a while because of it. Or maybe “Giglet.” I’ve never ben sure how Amy J spells that in her head. Picture awkward.  Now picture delight. Personify delighted awkward in your head. Add a little bit of shameless to that delighted personified awkward. Are you picturing it? Now make it dance. Great.  That’s me doing my happy dance.
7. I have an innate ability to remember where foodstuffs are. I went to a fair a while back, and each time the Boy said “Where can we find chocolate covered cheesecake?”  I was like “Oh.  It’s over there.  Just to the left of that.  And around this.” “Turkey Legs?”  “Other side of the fairgrounds.”  “Soup?”  “Back there.  To the right.  Next to the place with frozen bananas.”  But, when trying to find the very, very, very large field used for the jousting—I was lost.  “Uhm.  Wasn’t that somewhere around the swords?  I don’t know how to get there.”  Priorities.
8. I am an ambivert. I think most people are ambiverts, but still. Sometimes I’m extroverted and sometimes I’m introverted. There are some social situations in which I thrive. The people around me give me energy, and I could hang out and talk for what feels like forever. The more interaction, the more energy I get. Other times, I feel sapped by people. I get a little bit sleepy, and a little bit tired. I run out of energy and just want to curl up on a couch somewhere—read a book, stay in bed until noon, watch a movie.
9. I think that this list is getting too long.
10. I think the second and third items are the best items, and the rest of this list could be skipped.
11. I have an embarrassing number of selfies on my phone.  It makes me wonder about myself.
12.  I like to take walks and talk to strangers. Around ponds. Around neighborhoods. Up streets. Down streets. In DC. I have met a lot of interesting people on walks. A while back, I met a lady who—within ten minutes—told me about a wine mark in the shape of a kiss on her back. She was also writing a letter to the editor of the Washington post concerning something to do with education.

There we have it folks.  More information than you ever needed to have about me. You could always write me a list of four things about yourself.  Y’know, not because you liked this and I gave you a number or anything.  Just because.

Migraine

I knew it was coming yesterday.  It wasn't there yet, but hiding just behind my temples I could feeling a distant throb.  A threat. Little spots floated across my vision for the past few days. I hoped I was wrong. Each time someone offered me a treat of some sort I thought "Yuck." And even the blonde brownie, that I know was delicious, and tasted delicious--didn't taste good. It tasted like another step closer to this. 

The throbbing pain in the center of my forehead, radiating up my head, out and down my temples and through the back of my neck.  My stomach is roiling, and complaining. I can't decide if I should feed it, or if eating might make me throw up. I have plans tonight. I'm supposed to go to a party.  Should I go?  I hate letting this get in the way of my life.  It happens often enough, and I'm going to be in pain no matter where I am.

Or maybe, i should stay home.  I can go lie on the couch and hope beyond hope that the headache goes away. Maybe I'll be able to fall asleep. I suppose I could call someone to come and keep me company.  But it's Saturday night.  That's lame.  

And it's just the beginning.  I know it's going to get worse before it's over.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow.  It'll probably be gone tomorrow.  

Charlie Horse, Clouds, and Clay

I prayed the other night night that I would wake up in a more timely fashion the next morning.  You know, wake up before the alarm, or only push the snooze once.  Nothing too extreme just a “Get the day started off on the right foot,” rather than the-- “RINSE. PANTS. TEETH.  SHIRT.  UNDERWEAR!?  OHYEAH. THAT.  THEN PANTS.  THEN SHIRT.” Thing I do before heading out the--“SHOES!?  KEYS!?  AGHK!” door. 

I vaguely recall being a little bit awake and wondering if I should get out of bed, go on a run, read my scriptures--my alarm went off and I lazily reached over and pushed “Snooze” just once can’t hurt, right?  And then boom.  Charlie Horse. I zipped out of bed, and jumped over the mess of blankets lying on the floor.  “Ah!  Ah! Ah!”  7:03. God answered my prayer. I was up before the second snooze.  I’m not sure if I’m grateful or angry yet.  But I’m pretty sure He has a sense of humor.  Because, well….Rude. 

I just really wanted to tell that story.  It doesn’t have any particular application to this post, and I actually don’t know what I’m going to write this post about. A large part of the reason I’m writing this is that last time I Skyped my family my dad turned to me at the very end and said “You know your rambles thing?” and I distantly thought…which one?  I ramble all the time.  What did I ramble about this time? Was it a special ramble? My Skype face showed my obvious confusion. “You know.  Your rambles.  Meggers, something.” 

                  “Oh!  Yeah!  The Rambles of Meggers?  My blog.”

                  “That.  You haven’t written in it in a long time.  You should update it.”

                  “….Okay. I will!”  So I did.  And this is it.

One of my summer adventures.  We hiked to a beach.  It had jellyfish.  But it also had clay!  

I also liked the clouds.  

Because I Take Myself Too Seriously

I felt the need to post something completely NOT serious.  Like this picture.  Of me curled up in the hall.  Flossing.

Yes, flossing.

No, I'm not eating-- I'm flossing.  In the hall.  I don't always get me.  That's Kristy in the background.  I don't think she liked the ground as much as I did.

Friends are Just the Bees Knees

Sometimes, friends are great. Okay, so friends are always great. But sometimes friends are really great. Over the past couple of days I’ve been in touch with some friends that I haven’t talked to for a while, and it was so nice to catch up. It’s nice to hear their hopes, their fears, their dreams, their shallow likes and dislikes. They help me to realize and redefine mine. 

Just yesterday I was sitting on a rock step, in a new skirt that was a size I am ashamed to admit that I own and need—feeling grumpy and negative about life, about myself—about everything; trying to figure out what I want and where I’m going with my life.  I was on that stair, in the sunshine because an old friend was visiting from out of town and when she asked “How do you like it here” and before I realized it “I love it” slipped out of my mouth.

I amazed myself as I continued to expound how happy I am in Washington D.C. I have wonderful friends here. I have wonderful roommates here. I love the people I work with. I can tolerate the work that I do. I have a calling that pretty much makes it my prerogative to say “HI!” to strangers at church, which leads me to do the same thing outside of church. Just last week I had the most fascinating conversation with a British man walking along Rock Creek Parkway away from the Cherry Blossoms. He ended up being a political reporter at the BBC, and was covering America’s reaction to Margaret Thatcher’s death. I mean, COOL.

Yesterday, I got a phone call from a concerned Tara. “Hey, sweetie.  I just wanted to call and see if you’re okay.” David called and recited a similar message. Amy texted me out of nowhere for no particular reason. Josiah called and made a hilariously inappropriate observation.  Susan stayed up to chat with me despite sleep calling, and Hannah talked to me in the middle of the night. My brother returned my phone call, and when I didn’t pick up texted me “Hey I had a few seconds, and I just wanted to tell you that I love you.”  I mean c’mon.  You can’t really ask for a better younger brother than that.

I’ve recently been trying to figure out how the Lord communicates with me, and while talking to Hannah last night I realized that people are a powerful part of that.  Through the love and presence of people in my life, and the times that they show up at just the right time, in just the right place, for not particular reason—I feel God’s love. For the people who love me in the good times and in the bed, when I’m a booger-snot, and when I’m happy—there is divine guidance.  Charity is the pure love of Christ, and the first and second greatest commandments are love thy Lord and Love thy neighbor.

Today, I am so grateful for the love of both.  And so grateful that the Lord loves me enough to show His love to me through my friends. 

Sometimes, it seems like life is hard. Sometimes it seems like life is always hard. Sometimes it seems like life will always be hard. But the long and the short of it is for me, right now, is…. So?  I’ve been sharing two quotes with pretty much everybody and their dog lately, and so let’s see if I can get it out to a few more everybodys. 

                  “Pain stayed so long, I said to him today,

“I will not have you with me any more,”

I stamped my foot and said, “Be on your way.”

 And paused there, startled at the look he wore.

“I, who have been your friend,” he said to me;

 “I, who have been your teacher—all you know

Of understanding love, of sympathy

 And patience I have taught you. Shall I go?”

  ~ Anonymous

I can’t say I’m grateful for pain, right now. I can’t say I’ll be grateful for pain in the future. But I am grateful for the person that pain, once recovered from—has made me. I’m grateful for the ability to feel pain, and the happiness that fully experiencing that pain allows me to attain. So while I’m not grateful for pain, I am grateful for what it does to me. 

“There are many trails in life which do not seem to come form unwisdom or folly; they are silver arrows shot from the bow of God, and fixed inextricably in the quivering heart—they are meant to be borne—they were not meant, like snow or water, to melt as soon as they strike; but the moment an ill can be patiently born it is disarmed of its poison, though not of its pain.” 

                  ~Henry Ward Beecher

I kind of loathe writing serious blog posts, but I seem to want to write this one—So I’m going to end this one by telling you I mean every word of what I said above.  And also tell you I’mma go put on a pretty dress, do my hair, put on makeup, and go to a party.

Because that’s how I roll. 

~Meggers

(SERIOUSLY. Somebody else I love and don't normally talk to just randomly texted me.  So much freakin' love.)