20-somethings, Abraham Lincoln, advice, Bird, California, Carbohydrate, coffee, dreams, exercise, friendship, funny, hollywood, humor, London, Los Angeles, relationships, romance, thanksgiving, writing
Running and juking around homeless people like a spy on a mission to destroy the carbs I ate at 2 AM Saturday morning. Carbohydrate, the spy. Seek and destroy. Mission FEEL THE BURN. Ok. I’m done.
Like any good multi-tasker, I used this time to think about important things in my life. For example: the other day I read that pigeons have a large memory and actually remember if you scare them and if you attempt to approach them again will run away from you in fear. Or fly I guess. Because they are birds and have wings. You understand.
At first I instantly believed this because whoa cool, pigeons are actually smart who knew that..? But then the more I think about this I’m like ok, really? This can’t be true. Where did I read this? Uber facts on Twitter? I think that account should be audited for factual accuracy. Because in this case– IF ANYTHING is coming at you full-speed and thus, potentially risking your life, you instinctively move. Even a pigeon brain could figure that one out. This logic seems flawed. You know? Just hypothesizing. But hey…your move, Bill Nye.
Anyway, I’m running thinking oh these pigeons know me as fast-running-empress-with-awesome-hair (apparently, I have a native american tribal name) who will kill me if I get in her way. And I’m like that’s right pigeon peasants. Move yourselves. I am a powerful human who will crush you.
And this is a feeling that I wish carried me throughout the rest of my day. I wish certain situations and people and decisions were pigeons. I wish they would just get out of my way and bow to my power. But alas, life isn’t always the sidewalk of empowerment we hoped for and people aren’t pigeons and honestly thank god, because pigeons are pretty much rats with wings and gross.
Anyway– among other things I think about on my morning run–
Want to know what I did for Thanksgiving last year?
Well first, I ate my face off.
Like all of America.
Because that’s what we do.
But then, despite my food triplets (Curly, Moe and Larry respectfully) , I ended up going over to see this guy I liked at the time. He was cat-sitting at his extremely religious newlywed co-workers house and invited me over to “chill”.
This is the part where I should have been like, chill huh?? OH HEY GIANT RED FLAG…. But of course instead, I agreed because he was hot and I was weak.
And so somehow, in a strange yet also (let’s be honest) unsurprising chain of events, I found myself making out with him while also subsequently watching Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter (which I confess, I personally brought over to defuse the very situation I was now in) AND ALSO while this is happening– found myself being stared down by several extremely grotesque (no offense God) Jesus’s dying on the cross while ALSO being observed by the cat whom I was quite sure was magical/evil and could talk and was going to tell on us to it’s disapproving and guilt-tripping from a far distance wherever they are-parents.
Not that I really need to explain much more, but this was pretty much the height and extent of our relationship as it ended shortly after, something I will always blame on the cat.
…I’m still at a place in my life where I look at engagement and marriage of my peers with wonder and awe. Oh, you are going to spend THE REST OF ETERNITY TOGETHER? Wow. That’s really nice. What’s that even feel like? I made out with a guy who was cat-sitting for Jesus last Thanksgiving. Yep. And right now, it’s still in the winning for MOST ROMANTIC THING TO HAPPEN TO ME SINCE 2012. Things are going a-ok! Hold on, let me distract you with this picture of a sunset on the beach! Anyway, love right? Swell. Gotta get back to my big gulp. See ya later!
I’ve kind of adopted a live-on-the-fly lifestyle. Stretching my paycheck as far as it can go. Work with what I have, until I figure out something better. Can’t find a tissue in my car, so blow my nose into my Triple A membership papers. (Note: It was an emergency, and I had no other choice. Sorry Dad.) Moving 6 times in 2 years, 5 times specifically within the confines of Los Angeles, California.
I know you guys. You’re thinking 6 times? Holy cow Meg, you’re nuts. Chill out. You sound like an unstable gypsy! Someone put that girl on a leash. Stop shouting. I assure you all, I simultaneously have also held down a 9-5 job in a reputable company for almost 2 years (Humble Brag/Pregnant Sigh)– so it’s not exactly like I’m living out of my car (which for the record, I could totally do as Honda Elements are extremely roomy and versatile creatures, perfect for the modern-day box-car child)
Still though, it can be exhausting. Did I plan to move this much since August 2011? Would I prefer to be in a more stable, more settled, this is my house these are my things part of my life? Sure. I mean do pigeons fly away when you run full-force at their faces? Absolutely. But it’s also probably because they’re scared of the alternative, not because they’re smart enough to know better.
So I’d be lying if I didn’t say, I didn’t envy the other side of the stable fence sometimes. The side where you are an accountant, and you know how to appropriately wear J-Crew accessories (a skill I’ve never been able to master as every time I try any jewelry from that store on, I just end up looking like a plastic lawn gnome) and where you watch hit tv shows on your west elm couch with your boyfriend and both drink wine and don’t spill on yourself once and talk about marriage in a future adult way that welcomes it but doesn’t rush or force it. And you’re happy where you are, and satisfied in your settling because for you it’s enough and it always will be.
You know you want to live in this place for the rest of your life. There is nothing else, there is nothing more. Your family is here, your friends are here, your life is here. That is all.
And I bet your car is clean and you keep kleenex in the glove box. And you would never get a runny nose with 12 sneezing fits as you go down the highway at 70 miles per hour. You would never go hang out with a guy who was cat-sitting for his weirdly religious co-workers. And you certainly wouldn’t move 6 times for the hell of it.
And that’s right for you. That’s better for you. That’s your story. That’s your choices. I constantly remind myself there’s not a life jello mold, and my path is a completely different one than every person I come across. And to compare myself, is merely wasting time, instead of enjoying it.
So that’s where I am at today. That’s what I’ve learned to thrive on. To not knowing what’s next and to welcome it with open arms. To be ok with the fact that I’m building a story that others will only ever read about. To be single from here to eternity, to move maybe 8 more times, to never being an accountant, to not really living out of my car but also sort of sometimes living out of my car, to usually always saying yes to impulse, to very often pursuing solo the places where I know I personally need to be.
And this morning:
To running head first at a large of entourage of pigeons, thinking I don’t care if you remember me or not, you better move bitches…
Because I’m rocking this Monday.
And I’m going to rock my entire life.
..Or I’ll just wing it until I do.