megfowler.com

Busy week, it was.

Tired, I was.

Better now, I am.

Yoda, I’ve become.

SERIOUSLY NOW, I’m doing better with this fresh week, though the next few weeks of my life show no signs of slowing down to accommodate staring dreamily at falling leaves or sipping on cocoa or tossing on a pashmina (see our pashwall above) or anything else one might do to welcome fall. Which is almost here, you know. Fall. Autumn. The Third Season. Which startles me, since I’m not quite done with summer. COME BACK HERE. YOU’RE NOT EVEN DRY YET!

So perhaps it’s good that we’ll be having more August-y than September-y weather — sunshine, blue skies, fluffy clouds that don’t have angry, gray brows — again this weekend. I can lie outside and pretend the months aren’t cycling by like the Tour de France.

(And hurrah for the last harvest of this year’s freckle crop! It’s true that they are sweeter at the end of the season, just like grapes.)

I haven’t done much here to commemorate my creeping insanity or love of things and stuff in general, so it seemed a good time to just prattle out some odd thoughts and clear the cobwebs from my noggin.

I love…

Moonrises
An extra shot in my latte
Warm blackberries from the bushes
Adele
This American Life
My iPod Touch, which gives me hours of commusement (a new word I invented that combines commuting and amusement. You’re welcome!)
Lemon tarts
Little fake diamond studs
Salt and vinegar chips
New purse smell
Pedicures
Tiny birds that hang around outside cafes, scuffling for crumbs
Good scissors
Emergen-C powder
Jolly voice mails
Mixtapes

I miss…

When I didn’t seem too short because everyone was short as well, save for that one kid, Trevor, who looked like a telephone pole with a baseball cap.

My first taste of almond steamed milk.

When all my friends’ kids were babies and I was Auntie Meg more often.

When the above ground pool at my Auntie’s seemed big.

When one could carry off a beret without looking like a hipster, a French cartoon character, or Che.

When deadlines meant papers on Irish Lit or Italian Domestic Policy or Where The Whales Have Gone.

When I could jump my whole height on a trampoline.

When fresh bagels were around the corner.

When I used to doodle and stare out the window when I should have been doing algebra.

When the pop-skin grapes were in season.

When my grandma would cook bacon at 5 am on vacation and rouse my brother and I from sleep far too early for my mom’s liking.

I’m going to keep…

Making lists.

Making mix tapes.

Loving stuff.

Making myself lovely dinners, even if they are just for one.

Remembering to wear sunglasses to stave off the certain wrinkles that are ahead.

Squooshing my hair into a bun when my hair just won’t cooperate.

Enthusiastically recommending things.

Shaking the trees.

Trying to convince myself of the value of practical footwear in the long run.

Dreaming of road trips.

And you?

Thanks to Buzz Bishop.

Can’t say I didn’t warn you.

nataliedee.com

Hello!

I just woke up to you… and let me say, it’s nice to have you here, O Day-Before-Friday, O Day-of-Generally-Good-TV-When-I-Was-Younger…

I’ve always been a Thursday Person.

There’s something about the Day-Before-the-Day-Everyone-Else-Really-Likes that makes me want to love it, almost like an indie band that no one else has discovered but you KNOW will break big, or that little restaurant tucked away on a side street that has incredible food… but you can get right in, because the crowds are not yet lined up outside.

You can love Thursday and feel like you’re on the cusp… rather than just riding the trend.

It’s a day we’re all still working, yet a break is in sight.

It’s a day when you can’t start anything huge, but you can take on little two-day projects that will leave you feeling more than satisfied that you’ve accomplished something.

It’s a day when lots of people get paid, when the Nightly Special at the Pub is often rather tasty because it’s an Off Day, when you’re over the Hump (a phrase I hate, so I’m always happy to be over it), when you would begin to celebrate if you had a three-day-weekend, which we all know are the very best kind (well, second only to the four-day-weekend, which is both magical and somewhat mythical in this day and age of work, work, work.)

It’s a day I really like, because it’s a day that says, I Am Quietly Awesome.

A quality I love in clothes, shoes, men, music, flavours, and… Thursdays.

So thanks for coming out, Big T.

I’ll do my best to enjoy you.

With love,

Meg

If you’ve played before, you know the rules: you must choose between all the options in the list below, and then pop your answers into the comments. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like either thing… choose the lesser of the two evils. The fun part is having to resolve the conflict, not refuse it!

And as we always say, no one’s gonna hold you to it (except for the CIA — but this is one of their screening tools, so…)

Diet soda or regular?

Gold or silver?

Harrison Ford or Michael Caine?

Al Green or Marvin Gaye?

Volkswagen Beetle or Mini Cooper?

Celery or carrots?

Winding road or highway into the sunset?

“Your mom” jokes or knock knock jokes?

Sundried tomato or artichoke heart?

Kitten or puppy?

Email or phone call?

Curly or straight?

Swingset or teeter-totter?

Vintage or modern?

Wallpaper or paint?

Black and white, or colour?

Paris or Rome?

Picnic by the sea, or picnic in the park?

Road Trip or All-Inclusive Resort?

Muffin or croissant?

CNN or BBC?

Spa or camping?

Skeptic or true believer?

Popsicle or creamsicle?

Rollercoaster or waterslide?

Glasses or contacts?

1. Things that begin with “air”: “air quotes”; “Air Bud”; “airlines”; “air freshener”; “air kissing”; “air quality”; “air of superiority”

2. The scent of microwave popcorn post-pop.

3. People who call their friends “bitches” like they were Paris Hilton or ODB or just a… really annoying person.

4. Shows where people compete to become the host of a show.

5. The obsession with celebrity pregnancy, as if getting pregnant was something you needed a movie contract and an Hermes bag and Brad Pitt to do. Not that you should turn down those things if they are offered to you.

6. The monolith of failure that is an Allen Key. I swear, they should have a giant picture of one at the front doors of IKEA: “ONE KEY TO RULE THEM ALL!”

7. Blue water in toilets. I feel like I’m peeing into Blue Moon Berry ™ Kool-Aid and turning it into Kickin’ Kiwi-Lime ™.

8. Being fooled by fake flowers. Like being the only guy on earth who enjoys Pamela Anderson for her natural, womanly shape.

9. Watching people stuff magazines back into the racks by the cashier and part of the cover is squished up and AHHH FLATTEN IT OUT YOU’RE HURTING MY OCD AND I CAN’T REACH IT FROM BACK HERE IN LINE.

10. The larger the coffee you buy, the more likely you will be prevented from drinking it before it’s gross.

11. Wiglets. I mean, do you want to put something on your head that rhymes with “piglet”?

12. Microsoft Outlook. The name is really appropriate, though, because it changes your outlook considerably. Like you are looking out of a PRISON OF INEFFECTUALITY AND LDAP DIRECTORY ERRORS. DAMMIT, I WASN’T FINISHED TYPING THE ADDRESS.

13. Phone cords that twist up like DNA strands and bring you ever closer to having your head resting directly on the touchpad. And phone cords, period! Aren’t we PAST THIS?!?

14. That thing you do with your eyebrow.

15. Texting the wrong person.

16. Using a “z” instead of an “s” where “s” makes something plural. Maybe I just don’t like the letter “z”, which does not bode well for zebras, zoos, zoning bylaws or Zamfir.

17. Diaper ads, tampon ads, paper towel ads, or any form of ad that champions absorbency. If I wanted to watch something suck up a lot of unfortunate liquid all at once, I’d go to a frat party.

18. The sound a spoon makes when it enters pudding or yogurt. AAAAAAAAAAAAAA! It’s like plunging back into the primordial ooze.

19. Not having a no. 19 thing that annoys you. Or perhaps SO MANY ANNOYING things you cannot choose just one. I mean, you could always make a longer list to accommodate them all, but when does it end? When do we stop being annoyed? Though I guess Bill O’Reilly made a career of it. And Rachael Ray made a career of being annoying. So what have we learned? STOP AT 18. And that goes for wearing microminis and scrunchies and watching The Hills, too.

Yeeeeah.

I know.

I used to write every day, didn’t I?

If you look back through my archives (and you should! Have you done that? Just pretend I wrote all of them today!) you’ll see that I was pretty prolific at points. Nutty levels of prolific, really. I couldn’t STOP THE BLOGGING.

As lemmings were to cliffs, so were my words to the WYSIWYG editor.

Right now, though, I’m going through a phase where I question everything I’m putting down like I’m about to chisel it into stone. I’ve forgotten that it’s just A BLOG POST.

Not a thesis, not a permanent record, not a masterpiece, not ANYTHING that MATTERS SO MUCH YOU NEED TO KEEP THINKING ABOUT IT, FOWLER, GIVE IT A REST, MAN UP AND JUST POST SOMETHING.

Whew.

But the fact remains that the stuff I want to post is more unusual stuff for me… more serious, more wobbly, more problematic in terms of wrapping it all up in 500 words or less. Which is fine — I have written wobbly stuff here before.

I am just feeling consistently wobbly as of late. Which is actually the story of my life physically, but I’m talking about my heart.

MY HEART!

THE MUSIC OF MY HEART!

THE SHAPE OF MY HEART!

THE BEATING OF MY HEART!

Uh… yeah.

My life, and the lives of those around me, are going through big changes. Good changes, mind you, but BIG changes. Why are big changes so emotional, even if they’re good ones?

IT MAKES NO SENSE!

I MAKE NO SENSE!

THUS I MAKE NO BLOG!

Until now, as I’ve just decided that I’m going to post whatever is going on in my head… whatever I’m loving, whatever I’m thinking about… and you can stay tuned as you wish for all the randomness.

That’s what I always did. I have no idea why I stopped.

Other than the wobbling.

But yes… stick around. There will be a little bit of everything.

Kind of like watching CNN when there’s not a major election or major disaster or a major sporting event or Britney’s wearing her panties.

(Has there ever been a time like that?)