Showing posts with label metaphors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label metaphors. Show all posts

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Baggage Claim

As I get older I talk less and less.

....about my baggage.

There is some baggage that's easy to claim.  The nice stuff.  The baggage where we triumph, the baggage where we learn to become the hero.  That nice, rolling kind with the rotating 360 degree wheels.  It's easy for me to talk to strangers and to you, readers, about this kind of baggage.  Going through a year of weekly therapy sessions.  My late friend, and his accident.  It's easy to talk about things, but for some reasons, other things...'s just not.

There's some baggage I just can't fit into the overhead compartment of my life. 

I notice that, when I talk to people, there are some times when I'm omitting words.  The unsaid, the vague insinuations, an implicit lie of omission.  I rationalize, "Nobody needs to know that."

I don't know.  Maybe they do.  Maybe they really do.

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Love Is Like Bubble Gum

I.  Love is Like Bubble Gum

Love is like Bubble Gum.

At first, it's really hard.

Then it's SO SWEET.

For like, a minute.

And then it starts to break apart.

But you keep chewing it because you don't want to believe that it's already over.

And when you finally spit it out,
you can hardly believe you had something that disgusting in your mouth for so long.

It's gross to look at.
And leaves behind a bad taste.

II.  Bad Relationships are like Pizza

Bad relationships are like Pizza

When a box of fresh pizza arrives,
You want to claim a slice

So you lick your fingers and touch the best one

And you think you've won, and you're done, and it's yours.

III.  Good Relationships are like Reese's

Good relationships are like Reese's

Chocolate and Peanut Butter

Two perfectly good things coming together
To make something brilliant

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Sunday Social

This is a most unusual Sunday Social!  It's rather short (as these things go) and it's  all about purses!

I like to say that dating is like purse-shopping.  Once you start seeing all the available models and great styles, it's hard to pick one, and even harder to stick to just one purse for the rest of your life!  Ah, cynicism.  Let's not think about that, shall we?  Let's talk handbags.  HAPPY SUNDAY!

1. What is your favorite handbag you’ve ever owned?

My current one, of course!  It looks like Strategist Dalek.  I haggled it for ten dollars cheaper than asking price on the street - like a grown-ass woman!  It's bright blue!  If your current handbag is less than your favourite, maybe you're doing something wrong with your life.  Just sayin'. 

2. What is your dream handbag you lust over?

This is going to sound crazy...I'm okay with that.  There is a purse seller in Port Authority Bus Terminal who has cross-body bags in all different colours and I definitely still have them in the back of my mind.  Maybe next time I'm passing through Times Square...

3. What are the daily essentials in your purse or work bag?

I have a special area in my bag for my Metrocard and headphones, so I can find them easily.  They're really the only thing I use daily, I try to use my wallet less often, for my own good.  I also get a decent amount of use out of my re-usable shopping bag!

4. What’s in your purse (with pictures)?

Look how stained my old pink wallet is!  Time for a new one.  All the essentials - Tic Tacs, hand sanitizer, Sonic Screwdriver, compact.  The bottle of Advil has Benadryl in it.  The spray bottle is Winter Candy Apple from Bath and Body Works.  The cupcake has an iPhone charger in it.  The bright yellow square is my reusable shopping bag!  And the green stick is a mobile battery - more on that some other time!  It's the greatest!

Sunday Social

Friday, August 9, 2013

Don't Get Mad, Get A Cactus

So it would seem I have a type.  

This is George.

George is an Oreocereus celsianus, or "old man" cactus.  He's a bit abrasive and he mostly ignores me but I absolutely dote on him.  I can hold him and twist his hair in my fingers and breathe in his spicy scent and he doesn't really do much of anything in return.  He doesn't really seem to want anything to do with me. 

That's okay, though, because the upside of giving all of your love and attention to a cactus is that he can't physically leave you.  Just can't!  If he hurts you, it's only because you asked for it, by trying to get too close (and we all know you should never, ever try to get CLOSE to anyone, you silly, silly woman)!

Worst case scenario, he dies on you.  Maybe because you did something horribly wrong.  But then there's always the comfort in knowing it was in fact YOUR FAULT, and that there was something you DID or DIDNT DO, and you can accept blame and move in with your life instead of being stuck feeling completely bewildered and impotent when your heart is ripped out and thrown to the sidewalk outside Levain Bakery.

I think we'll be very happy together.

Friday, July 26, 2013


I have a theory.  On interior decorating.

My theory is that you decorate your personal space the way the inside of your head looks.



Not literally.
Let's take for example, my apartment.  My flatmate is very organized and responsible.  She is a self-described fan of modern, minimalist design.  Nothing on the walls, nothing on the floors. 

My bedroom might indicate that I have a different state of mind.

My bI'm not so much into the "neat and organized" thing.  My bedroom is like a holy shrine to me, of lush comfort and offbeat design.  I have nailed my worn-out shoes to the wall.  To the wall.  "It's art!"  I am quick to defend.  Along with the framed page from a childhood storybook and completed puzzle of Times Square.  Along with a fan a friend brought back from her travels in Spain, discarded dog collars, and my "collection" of found keys.  Along with the collage of pamphlets, business cards, and tickets decorating my closet door like a scrapbook of places I've visited and loved, a living "Yelp" page. 

Not to mention the big red curtain that blocks out almost all light (making it possible for me to sleep).  Dark and soft and dramatic.  Hmm...

Maybe the inside of my mind is a place of chaos.  As is my bedroom.  But I am comfortable there, both in my mind and in my lovely bedroom.  A head-space for a head-case!

Thursday, July 25, 2013

My Baby

So I have been working on this theory that tattoos are like babies.  They're both really delicate at first.  And both usually warrant a lot of SPF this time of year.  Well, see what I mean:

Tattooed folk?
Whaddaya think???

Saturday, July 20, 2013

Do You Believe in Ghosts?

Hey, remember that time I did ghost tours?  I do ghost tours!  AS A JOB!  It's basically super awesome.  And we talk about a lot of cool things on my tours.  But I like to ask my tour people if they believe in ghosts.  Sometimes I get really cool stories about teenage ventures to abandoned mental hospitals (seriously, I meet the COOLEST people, that is so baller and dangerous and I would NEVER break into a haunted house to explore, but I love that you guys DO!) with bloody handprints on the walls and running footsteps and the distant echo of childrens' laughter and AUUUUUGH!  SCARY!

Sometimes people ask me, "Have you ever seen a ghost?"  To which I reply:

Have you ever seen a ghost?  I won't judge.  I'm open to all possibilities.  Tell us about it!

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Requiem Maria

One of my favourite things to do on my long walks up Broadway is to spy on people eating in restaurants.  I adore Broadway from 72nd to 116th Streets, it's like a whole world unto itself, and the variety of eateries therein is vast and fascinating.  There are solemn, polite patrons of Sushi establishments.  There are solitary diners poring over newspapers in casual diners.  And there are animated groups of friends swilling alcohol and chatting loudly in the gastropubs.

Walking up the street, one could not miss Maria Bonita.  Colorful strings of lights haphazardly adorned the windows.  The tables always crowded with boisterous customers.  Waiters brightly clad, ushering steaming plates of fajitas to the table and, on the odd night, a mariachi band scooting their way betwixt the cramped-together tables, strumming loud music to drown out the laughter and conversation.

Maria Bonita captured my imagination.  I vowed one day to visit, to join the ranks of those whom I admired, and to feast on the foods whose tempting smells wafted out onto the street where I passed.

Alas, this will never be.

Maria Bonita is finito.  I walked past the other day to find it empty, gone, without explanation or notice.  Nothing but phantoms of the past nights of jubilation and the memories remained. 

In The Colossus of New York, Colson Whitehead says:

"Our old buildings still stand because we saw them, 
moved in and out of their long shadows,
were lucky enough to know them for a time.
They are part of the city we carry around."

Maria Bonita, I never got to know you.  But I know you nonetheless.  You became part of my landscape, and you reinforced a harsh lesson.  Never delay, never wait for the right moment.  The right moment could disappear before it ever comes.  Every moment is the right moment.  Gracias, Maria.

In two weeks, Google Reader goes Bye-Bye! 
I don't want to see this beautiful thing end, and neither do you. 
Let's try to make it work, baby, we can beat the odds!
Follow me on Bloglovin'!
Just click this link!  It's easy!

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Letting Go

Letting go is terrifying in trapeze and in life.

I like to plan, obsess, mull, and muse.  I keep my "Rolodex of Shame" well stocked and handy at all times.  I need to know what I'm doing.  I plan what salad dressing I'll use for dinner before I leave work!  And between this blog and my weekly therapy sessions, "gaining insight" is my hobby.  My other hobby is taking long walks.  And when I walk, I think.  And when I think...I obsess.

Much as I love this city, sometimes it feels as though it's a minefield of old emotions.  Old places, familiar feelings, long past that I still harbor feelings of guilt and sadness over.  Special places I shared with special people who are no longer in my life, or no longer with us.

As I draw near to my birthday, I wonder, "Is this getting old?  Accumulating old memories and retracting steps over and over until you cease to live in the now and live entirely in the past?  If I don't hold my memories fast like a handbag, will they slip away from me?"

But I don't have to do that.  I have to let go and trust that my past is behind me, the future is ahead, and every day I move closer and closer to being the woman I always dreamed of becoming.

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

The Five Scariest Moments in Trapeze

The scaffolding on top of the building?  That's the trapeze school!

1.  Climbing the 20 foot tall ladder to get to the platform - exacerbated by the fact that the trapeze structure sits on the roof of a building, making you three stories and 20 feet high in the air.

2.  With your toes over the edge of the platform and your right hand on the bar you're about to swing from, letting go with your left hand of the cable that is the only thing on your body holding you back from being pulled off the platform and into the air.  Trusting the girl behind you (thanks, Abby!) to hold onto you until you're ready to jump:

Scene:  Meghan's first jump


Put your left hand on the bar!


I don't think that's such a good idea, ABBY!

Thanks for holding onto me, Abby.  I owe you a fruit basket.  Like, a big one.

3.  Hearing the word "Hep!" telling you to JUMP.  I heard it like five times before I actually jumped.  There's no turning back:  certainly not down the aforementioned shaky 20 foot ladder (shudder) unless you JUMP.  Once you jump, there is free-flying and wind and sun and the rush of swaying in the breeze.  But until you jump, Abby is holding onto you waiting to release you to gravity's mercy.

This is the "greatest of ease" part.  WHEEE!

4.  Letting go with your hands.  Once your knees are up over the bar and you're hanging upside down, all you see is the net beneath you.  BUT DON'T LOOK DOWN!  Look at your knees, then release your hands and hang from your legs.  It's exhilerating to know that you can trust your body to keep you on the bar, but terrifying to have nothing to hold on to.

5.  Getting back on the ground, legs shaking, and realizing you did it all - climbed the climb, trusted someone enough to let go, made the jump, and did it all with nothing to hold onto but yourself.  Realizing that all the fears you had were unfounded, and you can really do anything you set your mind to - including pulling your knees up under your chin.  Finding out that anything is possible and then, everything that happens next.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

It's Okay Thursday #89

It's okay to...
  pee yourself laughing at this ingenious video:

I've watched it no fewer than four times and it's still downright hilarious.  Can't get enough.  And it makes me want to re-watch BSG all over again!!!

It's okay to...  start a new book before you've finished the one you're already reading.  I hope.  I'll let you know if the book police come after me for having bookmarks in the last half of Full Frontal Feminism by Jessica Valenti, How to Be a Woman by Caitlin Moran, and just having started The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon on the train.  I just don't know if my ADD can handle it!

It's okay to...  be afraid of going to the gynecologist for the first time.  Doing anything for the first time is innately nerve-wracking, isn't it?  But knowing that there is a first time for everything means that the second time will be easier. 

It's okay to...  work on yourself one step at a time. 

It's okay to...  throw away moldy old shower curtains.  Hanging onto things that are no longer useful or are damaged does not save the environment.  But I will recycle the gross old tupperware when I replace it with new.

It's okay to...  admit you don't know everything yet, and revel in the wonder of knowing there are still new things to discover and new surprises to be had.

It's okay to...  let another person lead the dance sometimes.  It doesn't mean you're losing control over the ball.

Its Ok Thursdays

Friday, September 7, 2012

POMS Link-Up: Don't Cry Over Boyfriends

I'm breaking the rules today because I have to tell you that I have lost weight.
Between work, moving, and taking vitamins, and my new positive outlook.  I'm sorry!  It wasn't intentional.  I've been sneaking candy at work and cooking enchiladas and tuna melts at home.  It's just something my body decided to do.  But I had to tell you that because now I am a size four and how do I know this?  My boyfriend told me.

My boyfriend jeans!  The ones I bought oh, say, four years ago?  I loved them and wore them to death.  When I found I could no longer get them up over my thighs, I cried.  They were my Carole King Tapestry album cover jeans.  My Freaks and Geeks wide leg faded "I Finally Found Pants Long Enough To Touch The Ground Because I Am A Tall Leggy Type Person" jeans.  I spent $8 on them secondhand and I felt like a genius.

And now, they fit again.  The denim feels like soft butter.  These are some high-quality jeans.  I heartily thank the previous owner for taking such good care of them.  The waistband is cut on the bias for stretch, the pockets are so deep they cradle my entire iPhone, and they hold tight to my hips whenever I sway back and forth.

Just like a good boyfriend should.

The moral of the story is, don't cry over boyfriends.  You never know when they might come back.

Monday, July 9, 2012

Mani Mondays - Nail Fail

Oh, ouch.

To add insult to injury, it seems I can't even paint my nails anymore.

See, I wanted to do this cool design I saw on Pinterest:

Source: via Melanie on Pinterest

Buuuuuuuuut, I didn't read the directions.  I grabbed some netting and some polish and tried to improvise:

And thanks to my haste and hubris, this is what I ended up with:

I was sticky!  I was messy!  I was angry!


Hmm, "angry."  That gives me an idea...

Ba-BLAM!  Inspiration! 

So, first attempt didn't go so well.  But I was determined not to give up, and it paid off!

The second attempt was much better!

It just goes to show, never give up, and you WILL succeed!

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

7 Things Link-Up #15!

Everyone knows it's Wednesday!
And that means it's time for the 7 Questions Link-Up with Gentri Lee!
And here's my Cheshire Cat grin:

1. If you could be any princess- which would you be and why?

I think Aladdin and Jasmine have the most authentic love story.  They get to know each other under false pretenses, sure, but they were really in love with each other, and not what they could get from each other.  Does that sound completely crazy?

2. Do you have any odd habits? (do things in order, words that you say too often, etc)

I'm always biting my lip.  Maybe it's a "hushing gesture"?

3. What's your "go to" outfit?

T-shirt and jeans!  T-shirt, jeans, and Chucks is the classic outfit!

4. Do you have any siblings? What are their genders, ages, order of age, names, etc?

I have two brothers - both younger than me.  I don't want to post their information on the internet because that's their privacy, but suffice to say I grew up with two younger brothers, and draw your own conclusions.

5. What's your favorite precious stone?

I've always loved hematite.  It's a black shiny smooth stone.  Wikipedia says that "Hematite is harder than pure iron, but much more brittle."  Which means it is tough, but fragile.  I like that metaphor.  Aren't we all tough, but fragile?

6. If you had a check in your hand for 1 million dollars, what would you do with it?

It's not exciting, but it's something I've always wished for.  Buy a house.  Or an apartment.  Or a townhouse.  I hate worrying about being able to pay the rent all the time.

7. What do you love most about yourself- physically?

I love my hair in the above picture!  I know that's shallow, but you asked!  I love my crooked bangs.  My choppy fringe!  I'm the only person allowed to trim them because everyone else does it WRONG.  They're artfully haphazard!

Friday, May 11, 2012

New York is Like a Box of Chocolates

New York City is like a patchwork quilt:
there's a little bit of everything mixed in EVERYWHERE.

Little, ancient castles squished between modern, glass office buildings.
Humble drugstores crouching in the shadow of centuries-old churches.

Bicycle rickshaws darting between slick black town cars.
Pedestrians in 5-inch heels pushing strollers through the crosswalks.

Women in pearls with papillons in the purses riding the city bus.
The homeless man wrapped in a blanket begging for change outside Tiffany & Co.

Cops breaking up fights at bars on 8th Avenue.
Limos dropping off suits at bars on 9th Avenue.

When the man jingling a cup full of change makes his way down the aisle on the subway, you avert your gaze sympathetically.
When the breakdancing kids clap their hands to the boombox on the platform, you clap along...sympathetically.

You never take a leaflet from someone on the street.
But you crowd the table when they're passing out free samples at Trader Joe's.

Love hearing me ramble about NYC?
Check out my interview with New York Cliche!
City girls got to stick together...!

Friday, March 30, 2012

The Schedule Dream

DOES ANYONE ELSE still have The Schedule Dream?

IN HIGH SCHOOL, a few weeks before the new year, you would receive a schedule with the list of all the class times, subjects, room numbers, and teachers that you would eventually commit to memory and attend in a daily manner.

IF YOU LOST your schedule, you had to go to the office, swallow your pride and plead mea culpa to a committee of unsympathetic secretaries, and hope that they could provide you with some direction.

I ALWAYS DREAM of finding myself in the hallway, aimless, corridor stretching before me in all directions.  Limitless doors, options, choices: millions of wrong ones, only one right answer.  And me without my schedule.

GUESS I BETTER head down to the office again.

curse that the hand could never fit a whole day...

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Being Barbie

People give Barbie a lot of flack.  People say she is a bad role model for children.  People don't typically have a sense of humor about things.  They like to say, "What if Barbie was a real person?"

Well, if Barbie was a real person, she'd probably be called a "slut" because she's conventionally attractive.  She would be very insecure, because all these unwarranted opinions about her body eventually convinced her to change her appearance to appease the critics.  She might regret succumbing to the pressure to change herself to make people happy.  But when she tries to make herself happy with a tattoo or a new hairstyle, the media balks and the backlash is everywhere.  Barbie feels like her body is public property, and everyone feels entitled to an opinion on it - everyone, that is, except Barbie.

She would be called a "whore" because of her split from Ken, during which time she learned to appreciate herself as a single woman and enjoyed a brief flirtation with Blaine, many years her junior.  Though she reunited with Ken in 2006, Barbie would be called a "man-eater" or a "cougar" or a "tramp" for not wanting to be tied down, for exploring her own needs, and for not wanting to be defined by her relationship with a man.

And Barbie has so many interests!  People would probably call her "fickle" for changing careers so many times, a "bitch" for choosing to work outside the home as opposed to embrace a more traditional role, and they would criticize her for being "frigid" as she has never had any children.  Whenever Barbie makes a choice and stands by her decisions, somebody finds fault with it.

Despite all this, Barbie loves kids and animals.  She sometimes makes mistakes, but she always apologizes.  She tries her best and admits when she's wrong.  She's flawed, but she means well.

So please explain to me...

...who would want to be like Barbie?

It's the shoes, right?

(Be sure to check out the amazing work of Mariel Clayton for more doll photography)

Thursday, February 23, 2012


I have a fear of losing control. I have a fear of being helpless. I have a fear of not having my feet firmly on the ground.

No, literally!  I hate being suspended, or hovering, or not being able to see my safety net.  It's terrifying! 

Gusseted by my brave friend, and the sugar high from a Sprinkles cupcake, I boarded the Roosevelt Island Tram, despite having snapped this picture while it was stopped and swinging violently to and fro:

Ah, but it was smoother than expected!  Making a huge case for conquering fears.  Sometimes it pays off to take a leap of faith and try the things that make us nervous.

The views were the ultimate payoff, and it's not that high, after all.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Broadway Beats the Blues

Petula Clark once said "when you're alone and life is making you lonely you can always go...downtown."  I've also heard them say the neon lights are bright on Broadway.  So I hit the pavement in search of adventure to shake the funk I've been in lately.

See?  This is the pavement I hit-ed.

I feel like so much of my time is spent trying to make people like me.  As a salesperson, I try to make customers like you to buy my product, or at least, to make my day tolerable.  As an actor, I have to make someone fall in love with me based on a picture and a paragraph.  And as a blogger, I feel like I'm always struggling to get people to like me:  more followers, more comments, more hits, blah blah blah.  Always putting myself out there, waving to tourists, smiling at babies, emailing off my resume, and pouring my heart out over the internet.  And never being happy with the results.

So after a few days of wallowing at home, I had an urge to get out of the house, and a peculiar yen to walk down Broadway.  Broadway kind of sucks.  It's like a touristy afterthought:  There are some nice places, but the majority of it is empty or going-out-of-business stores.  There are some billboards, the backs of some theatres, not really a lot going on. 

"Broadway is like me," I thought.  Stuck between all the great avenues of Manhattan, trying it's best to shine, making attempts and failing, but every now and then, it hits on something wonderful.  Union Square!  Madison Square!  Herald Square!  Columbus Circle!  And of course...

Times Square.  Broadway is necessary, it is important.  And from 47th - 42nd and 35th-33rd Streets, it lets tourists walk all over it.  Like me!

Broadway also happens to naturally gravitate towards Forever do I, when I'm feeling down...

MAC store, Disney Store, *gasp!* Forever 21!

Yellow is a good antidote to the blues...(and the mean reds, in case you ever get those, too).

Sometimes all it takes is stomping it out to "Bennie and the Jets" pounding in your headphones to put a new spin on things.  Like Broadway, it doesn't really matter if everyone likes me.  I like me. 

And I like these yellow pants.  Don't they make my legs look like Hi-Liters???

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Little Fish, Big Pond

I recently confessed to facebook that I harbor a secret desire to go back to my hometown and go on a date to Outback Steakhouse.

YOUGUYZ!  This is big stuff here!

Like, what's the matter with me?  I am so happy here.  I fit in.  This is my dream come true!  I think I'm suffering from a little problem I am hereby dubbing "Big Pond Syndrome."

As one friend pointed out in what may be the nicest thing anyone has ever said of me, I am used to creating big waves.  When you're in a little pond, it's easier to make waves!  Especially if you are a larger fish.

But a little pond can make for a rather uncomfortable fish.

So, if the fish has the means, he moves to a bigger pond, which is more comfortable, but it is naturally populated with other large fish.  And all of them trying to make waves.  So it's hard to make your own waves.  Exhausting!  What do you do?

Do you secretly dream of giving up treading water and getting sucked under by the waves the bigger fish are making?  Do you grow nostalgic for that tiny pond, musing on it's "coziness" relative to the expansive and intimidating pond you now call home?  Do you go back to the little pond? 


You have to become...a bigger fish.

I'm working on that one...

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