megfowler.com

Reconnecting with people is one of the most amazing things in life, and also one of the weirdest.

That’s why I’m not terribly good at it. I have NO idea what information is pertinent to share with someone you haven’t talked with in five, ten, or fifteen years.

Do you want to know where I went to school? Or what I took in school? Or where I’ve traveled? Or who I dated? Or what I do for a living? Or where my family lives now? Or why I chose to enter the Witness Protection Program?

Or WHY exactly we haven’t talked in five, ten, or fifteen years (see: Witness Protection Program)?

Is it kosher to talk about trauma or crises? I don’t mean as a conversation starter (”Oh my gosh! I haven’t seen you in forever! Did you know I have a disorder? Also, check this rash on my leg!”) but as part of an answer to a direct question (”No, I’m not married yet because MEN SQUISH MY HEART LIKE A BALLOON FULL OF HAIR GEL. WHERE IS MY COFFEE! MY EARS ARE ITCHY.”).

I like honest, but HOW honest?

I like information, but how MUCH information?

I overthink these things. Like I overthink everything.

Still, I’m usually safe from my own obsessiveness (in this area… we still have door locking and eyebrows and unplugging irons to keep me busy) because reconnection experiences only pop up once or twice a year.

But HELLO, FACEBOOK. WAY TO REINTRODUCE 100 PEOPLE BACK INTO MY LIFE. ALL AT ONCE. FROM EVERY PART OF MY LIFE.

It’s kind of mindbending.

Everyone wants to know different details, and who you’ve kept in touch with, and if I still have that odd twitch over my left eye when anyone mentions watermelon Bubblicious.

I guess I’m lucky in that I could just give them a URL and say, “Take a day. Catch up.”

However, a) that’s really weird and kind of artsy-dramatic and vaguely Sylvia Plath-ish (KNOW ME BY MY WORDS! BLACKBERRIES!); and b) there’s a fair amount that doesn’t get covered here; and c) my blog doesn’t explain how the hell I got to this point, really.

(How the hell DID I get to this point?)

So.

I’ve decided to create a comprehensive blog entry I can point to whenever folks aren’t satisfied with the information on my Facebook profile.

I know it’s not going to satisfy about 50% of my friends (because they’re overcurious like I am), but I do believe the other 50% will go, “Ah, there. So essentially… you drink more coffee and you still terrify the opposite sex. Nice to catch up! Say hi to your parents.”

Here goes:

The FAQ of Meg

Q: So what have you been DOING for ten years?

A: Besides heroin? Well, I finished my degree, finished working at Starbucks, ran a camp for a while, then started writing. Writing is what I do now. In lots of places. Including on bathroom walls. And on my arms with a Sharpie.

But only when the sadness is TOO MUCH TO BEAR.

***

Q: Did you ever end up dating (fill in the blank here) that you had a crush on?

A: Well, if I remembered who that was, I’m sure the answer would be no. Did I discuss wedding plans? Was he tall? Did I start to like the same bands he did? Ew. I did?

I’m sorry. I was probably insufferable. But no. Evidently, it didn’t work out and falls in line with all the other “didn’t work outs” (which is the answer to another question… yes, I probably should work out.)

I’m STILL SINGLE, BABY!

WOOOO! ON THE MARKET!

RIGHT BY THE CHECKOUT COUNTER!

NEXT TO THE HOROSCOPE BOOKLETS!

No, to your left.

Yes. Hi.

***

Q: Is it fun being single? Crazy! I got married on my twentieth birthday and have 34 gorgeous kids. I feel completely fulfilled. You?

A: Yes, it sure is fun being single. I love it. I’d hate to have some man taking up all the time I now use to comparison shop for laundry detergent and wander the aisles at Whole Foods and watchThe Bachelor (GO TESSA) and blog.

But honestly? Yeah, single is pretty good. A bit lonely at times, but then again, so is being a Justin Timberlake fan in your thirties.

If you’re waiting for me to buy a condo and a Honda Civic and loads of Ikea furniture and a hope chest, and attend singles events and date your friend who is “a hidden gem”… well, no.

I’ll be erratic and barefoot and wait for the fireworks. There IS a guy out there (or any number of them) that I could make happy (and vice versa.)

I bet he’ll come along when he… well, comes along.

And I don’t believe in the theory that mates come along “when you’re not looking” (like serial killers.)

I’m just confident because I know I have love in me to give. Tons, in fact. Want a little?

I think I have some warm gummi bears in my pocket…

***

Q: Haha, do you still never wear shoes?

A: I still never wear shoes. I’d like to think it was a sort of quirky habit, but mostly I just hate wearing them. I love the way they look, I love well-designed ones, and I love the IDEA of them, but the execution?

Yeah. No. Thanks.

I don’t go barefoot, per se, but I love my Havaianas.

And I hate what shoes cost! What a racket!

***

Q: Have you traveled?

A: Ehhhh. Not outside of North America. Isn’t that horrible? I think it’s horrible. I never saved for it or made it a priority. I think I always thought paying down school debts and working, working, working was really important.

I wouldn’t call it a regret, though. It’s easily remedied. Santorini, anyone?

***

Q: I thought you were going to be a lawyer (teacher, eternal grad student, fishmonger, swami)?

A: Nope. Just a writer. Although “rockstar” is still a possibility, or “consultant.”

***

Q: Why do you stay in Vancouver? It’s expensive there!

A: My family is around here, for the most part (within a couple hours of me), and not only that, HAVE YOU BEEN HERE? PRETTY!

But seriously: I know our gas and our coffee costs more than it should, but I’m definitely a city girl who needs city-size resources nearby (as much as I love to go to smaller and more remote places to visit.)

Vancouver is good for me right now culturally, socially and job-wise… and I think I’d have a hard time leaving the ocean behind anytime soon.

I would live somewhere else, though. And probably will eventually. But we’ll see!

***

Q: Do you own anything?

A: An iPod? An iBook? More lipgloss than you? An offshore bank account? No. The first three, yes.

Where DID all my money go, anyway? (First person to say Starbucks gets it. Hard.)

***

Q: Do you still talk to (fill in blank here)?

A: Yes. But only about YOU.

***

Q: What are your hobbies now?

A: What? People still have hobbies? But… but… the internet!

I’m just kidding. Mostly.

The fact is, I am an internet junkie, which is a sorry byproduct of writing and blogging and all the other social networky things I do online.

I think it’s partly that I am in the “building my career” phase, and partly that I have obsessive tendencies WHERE IS MY iBOOK?

I write as a hobby. And write for a living. But what would I LIKE to have as my hobbies?

Well, I dream of getting a really nice digital SLR and learning about photography. I would love to take cooking lessons (Thai, Japanese, French). I would love to start distance swimming. I would love to take voice training. I would love to take up running again (HAHAHAHAHAHAHA). And finally, I would really enjoy taking some interior design courses. But for now?

I’m a little fixated on what I’m doing. For better or for worse.

***

Q: Anything embarassing you’d like to admit?

A: I think we covered that in most of the questions above.

***

Q: Anything you’d like to add?

A: I still love hockey and coffee and lemons and sunshine and water and beauty products more than most people I know.

And still dislike Joe Francis and bees and condescension and meanness and talking on the phone more than most people I know. I have no need to provide reasons for the former, and for the latter?

Just stubborn, I guess. And Joe Francis is an asshole.

To summarize:

More a Ferris Bueller girl than a Dirty Dancing one. More an Al Green girl than a Neil Diamond one. More a What Not To Wear person than a Trading Spaces one. More peppermint than cinnamon. More windows down than air conditioning. More chair dancing than sitting still.

I still get tangled in top sheets.

Any questions?

Five shots was just right, wasn’t it?

I like it when my ears tingle when I take a sip. And when I can hear voices. And when colours blink.

You are my favourite coffee in the whole world and when you’re gone, I promise not to replace you.

For like, an hour.

Love,

M.

If you do, say a prayer for my grandpa tonight. Back in hospital, frustrated, struggling. He deserves a little peace.

Thanks.

Update: Back home, still not in great shape.

Okay then.

1. Why the weekend is always a bit cloudy and then the SUN COMES OUT MONDAY MORNING.

2. How a phone comes back from the spin cycle (yes, we have some screen “patchiness”, but otherwise? Up and functioning.)

3. Why people unsubscribe and subscribe to my blog feed almost daily… the same people.

4. Why the top of my head feels tingly.

5. When you got that freckle on my lip.

6. Why fingernails grow so damn fast when you don’t have time to do anything about them.

7. Why I can be so ridiculously extroverted at times, but at others, just want nothing more than peace and quiet.

8. How the same coffee maker can make completely different batches of coffee with the same water and the same amount of grinds.

9. What things are going to look like for me in a year.

10. What things are going to look like for me in a week.

What are you wondering this morning?

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!

You’ve been a mom for 37 years now!

Does it feel like that long?

It doesn’t to me, but that’s likely because I’ve only been there for 33 years of it.

But for the 33 years I’ve been around, I can say without hesitation that you are the best mom I’ve ever had.

Not only have you loved me every single day of those 33 years, you also made sure that I knew you loved me. And DO love me.

So you should know that I love you very much, that I am proud of you, that you’ve made me the person I am today (the good parts, not the lame parts… those are Dad’s fault) and that nothing in life makes me happier than knowing you are happy.

Thank you for being the mom my friends wished they had. And for opening your heart and life so you really WERE everyone’s mom.

And thank you especially for being mine.

Sorry about my entire thirteenth year.

Your toad,

Meg

1. Because I can’t call him to do it, what with my fluff-n-fold phone.

2. Because he is the MegFowler.com style maven.

3. Because he will beat you up if you don’t do what I say.

4. Because he will make you laugh if you talk to him for more than five minutes. Or one minute.

5. Because he is one of the smartest people I know, and you could use his help.

6. Because he is the kind of loyal that no one is anymore… which means he stands by you no matter what. This is a quality that makes life make sense.

7. Because his back is out right now, so he could use a little cheer.

8. Because he takes extraordinary photos of beautiful things, and has shared them with you, right here.

9. Because he’s turning 61, which is very, very old.

10. Because he is by far the hottest husband my mom has ever had.

11. Because he is the perfect person to sit down with when you need some wisdom to figure out an issue, or your life, or the NFL.

12. Because he has taken good care of his OWN dad, and I want to take good care of mine.

13. Because he refreshes my blog 18,000 times a day, and he will notice if there are no comments.

14. Because he might come play guitar for you, and that would probably be the most soothing moment of your whole year.

15. Because I am a Daddy’s girl from way back, and as any Daddy’s girl knows, our dads are the most thoughtful, most gentle, most longsuffering, most hilarious, most dependable, most indulgent, most faithful, most amazing men in the whole wide world.

To my dad, who would save me from all the problems I could ever face, who loves fiercely and without reserve, and who deserves every good thing, may this year bring you a sense of incredible fulfillment, many long drives with Mom, and a few extraordinary deals on Brooks Brothers suits at the Goodwill.

You are loved, you are appreciated, and most of all, you’re MY dad, and I only have to share you with Sean. And Carey, soon.

I’m SO blessed to have you in my life.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

I just put my phone through the wash. Something I have never done before in a combined 4 years of cell ownership.

So, uh, if you need to get ahold of me, email.

We’ll see how it unfolds.

Now, where did i put my scrubby old phone?

It is BEAUTIFUL outside. Almost insanely so. AND NOT RAINING!

The sunshine! The warm air (well, it will be)! The smell of lilacs blooming (right by our deck)! The glimmering ocean nearby!

And it’s FRIDAY. Which means I can spend all day tomorrow lolling about on my deck, soaking up Vitamin D, drinking juice (I think I have six kinds in my fridge right now: passionfruit, pomegranate, white grape, ruby red grapefruit, pineapple, orange), flipping idly through magazines and giving myself a pedicure.

Ahhhhh!

I’m also doing some life organization this weekend: trying to organize my ever encroaching product clutter; making a list of everything I will need to spend money on in the foreseeable future; setting some buying goals; doing some rough-edge budgeting; upending my entire bedroom to try and find my OCD self again; and planning my contribution to DECK OF LOVE ‘07.

What is DECK OF LOVE ‘07?

Well, it’s actually nothing that spectacular. I just wanted to give it a spectacular name.

I like doing that. I like to pump up the magic. I like to turn everyday things into EXTRAVAGANZAS! WOOOOOO!

But, essentially, we’re just adding some plants and other elements (hanging lanterns — maybe glass, maybe paper — perhaps a new chaise? Wicker is bad because it gets moldy nearly instantly, so I think it would need to be iron or cedar with weatherproofed cushions) and I want to do it right.

I’m thinking I’ll start a little herb garden in three sections: Italy (basil, oregano, etc.), France (herbes de Provence), and Thailand (peppers, lemongrass, etc.) I also really love peonies, but there’s no way in hell I can grow those. So maybe tomatoes?

Fun!

I love the kind of projects where, even if you make absolutely no headway, the fun of planning makes it all worthwhile.

That’s why I’ve been engaged nine times!

Kidding.

SOOOOO…

1. What’s your big weekend plan? If you could spend it anywhere, doing anything, where would you be? What would you be up to?
2. Do you have any spend-y/save-y goals right now?
3. What are your favourite plants/herbs/flowers/growy things?
4. Give us three weekend songs to rock (or chill, or swing, or freak) out to…
5. What do you do to indulge yourself? Is it a matter of time? Buying things? Doing things?
6. How ARE you, anyway?

TELL! TELL! TELL!

I always say that I’m not an anniversaries kind of person, but I think that’s changing as I get older.

Milestones seem to creep up more often now than they used to, which is contrary to how I figured life was supposed to work. Shouldn’t all the big stuff happen when you’re a kid?

I guess not.

Because I think it’s happening now.

Granted, I won’t grow another inch or lose a tooth or have my first kiss again or graduate from anything but ‘combination skin’ to ‘anti-wrinkle’ moisturizer, but my heart is changing in ways that I barely know how to express.

How do you explain letting go?

How do you explain changing your dreams?

How do you explain the battle to keep your heart from freezing over when storms pass through?

I’m not sure.

As far as I know, you just do. And you do. And you do. And then you try and get some sleep.

One year ago today, I was diagnosed with infertility.

As a single woman.

As a woman who gravitates towards children like she gravitates towards light.

It was a gut punch, an irony, a wrench, a collision, a wall of sound.

I wrote about it at the time, and stated that my only mandate was to “just keep breathing.” And I have kept breathing, though sometimes it feels like there is a weight on my chest, fighting that instinct, leaving me gasping, leaving me empty.

It hasn’t been easy.

I was and am angry about it sometimes. I was and am despairing about it sometimes. I was and am embarrassed by it sometimes.

But more than anything else, I have come to learn three things:

1. I will not be defined by my inabilities for another second.

2. My destiny as a mother remains as solid as it ever was.

3. Anything good about me is a direct result of the love that has been poured into my life by my family and friends.

I struggled with how I saw myself long before I heard that one more piece of the puzzle was out of place, truth be told. I still have fractured friendships and regrets that I don’t know how to deal with, and I still don’t make perfect choices all the time.

Or ever.

This thing was big, though. This changed me.

This turned me from someone who took linear journeys for granted to someone committed to seeing beauty in the twist of a path. Committed not because I always manage to see it, but because I will see it. I will.

There is no other option.

I don’t know what will happen. I don’t know if there will be miracles. I don’t know where my life goes from here. I don’t know what direction my health will go in from here. I don’t know how love and family and being will take shape for me.

What I do know is that in the midst of all things impossible, my biggest comfort has been gratitude.

And so:

To my mom and dad, thank you for believing in my future with a ferocity that comes from true love. When I think about how much it hurts you when I’m hurting, I feel terrible.

But then I remember how you feel when I bump up against joy or success, and I know that the good ahead will make up for all of this soon enough. I love you with all my heart, and know no greater thing on earth than the love I get from the two of you.

To my brother, who cried, I know. You would save me from everything bad in the world. This is clear. And you can’t, but your desire to try makes you pretty amazing. I love you, and I am so excited that you and Carey are starting on a journey of your own.

To my extended family — who reacted in a million different ways, all of them understandable — don’t worry… I’ll bring a child into this chaos that I’ll have to train not to walk into practical jokes or get food stolen from their plates or get beaten to death playing Rummoli.

To Catherine and Kerry, who were my roommates when the bomb first dropped. You were always there. I love you both.

And Kerry, you are one of the most compassionate listeners I have ever known. You showed me how to stay soft.

To Kristy, the once-and-satellite roommate, and Jeff, He Who Was Engaged To Kerry and Then Married Her and Took Her Away, you guys were great delights and distractions when you would come through that horrid, moldy place we used to live in.

Kris, love you, girl. When you came into town, I could always count on you to dance with me and go for coffee when I was sad.

To ALL my friends who have rushed in to love me, how do I even thank you? Half of you had barely heard from me before all of this, and have barely heard from me since. I regret that so much… I can’t even tell you. But you LOVE me. Wow, do you love me. I haven’t earned it, but I am blessed. There are too many of you to mention, but you know exactly who you are.

And to Jenn, whose baby (Edmund) was the first one I held after all hell broke loose… you brought me back into the moment from my sad little place. I will forever be grateful. For you, and for your love.

To my friends at work who gave me the room to experience things… thank you. You are totally loved and appreciated, and with more than just Friday Thai or morning coffee or Desk Candy. You should all be so lucky to work with Tara, Christina, Johanna, all the Robs, Theresa, all the Elizabeths, Liberty, Mitch, Jennifer, Curtis, Shannon, Coralynn and everyone else.

To the wee chunk of the internet that comes here, many of whom have become sweet and devoted friends, thank you for reading my words about this for the past year. I have been sad, I have been angry, I have been wry, and yet? You take it all in, and offer back only encouragement and perspective. Take a look at my “Sweet Reads” up there if you want a sense of who these amazing people are. I appreciate all of you.

Eric, Nance, Chuck, Patia, Mark, Karen, Birdie, Monty, both my Lizzes, JenB, all the Ashleys, Barbie, NotSoccer, Wood and Dutch, Rick, Phil, Dick and everyone else… wow. What an honour.

And Eric? You are a rare and amazing friend. I’m blessed. Who meets kindred spirits on the internet? That’s weird.

Finally, Catherine again. Girl, you have spent more time with me than anyone else in the past year of my life — whether hanging around our perfect apartment or taking road trips or teasing Dean (ACCCCTIC CHAAA! NETMINDER!) — and have had to experience more of my ups and downs than anyone else.

If I was ever tempted to lose faith in God’s provision in my life, all I have to do is look at my roommate, who loves me about as unconditionally as anyone ever could. I’m not easy to be around all the time, but you have stuck by me. I love you. What more can be said? You’re my hetero lifemate forever and always.

And:

To my future husband, whenever you show up: we’ll make it work. I really believe that now. I was scared to hope before. Now I don’t have much doubt in my mind that any man I’d choose would do nothing less. I love you as a forethought and as a promise.

And, finally:

To my future kids, ha ha! You are so stuck with Mommy.

You couldn’t get away if you tried.