You know what the problem with anonymous posts is? This is a comment that was put on my last post:

You are a great person and you shouldn't let the past ruin your future. Yes you should remember where you come from but you have gone so much further than that. Your life makes us so jealous and a confused boy that is still realizing he's in love with you should not define you. The friends you have will be there forever no matter how they act, they still love you and are there for you. Keep your head up and enjoy yourself, you have so much more life to live.

It's awesome and eerily similar to the topic of today's post but I have no idea who this is; if its someone from my past or someone that I know right now..... but I'm taking it at face value.

One of my best friends cut his hair last week (Ryan) which was always his most defining feature. We all teased him about it, and he used to swish it across my face when we were cuddling (which I hated). And now its gone and my hair is cut like Posh Spice again (sort of) and I just realized how much everything has changed.

And not all for the worse either. I love my life; I love that I meet new people every week that are cooler than the last. After all, I had just begun being friends with Jackie and Michelle this time last year and now they are my closest friends. I think I'm finally ready to let go - of my old friends, my old life, Todd, while still holding the most important things close to me: the love that i have for my home and my family and closest friends, even if they are just memories.

I met a guy last weekend and I told him that I still wasn't over Todd. While that's true I think I'm finally moving on. Thank God, I thought I'd never surface.

So for all of you who read this and listened to me blather, thank you. I look forward to filling your lives with stories about who I'm messing around with which will probably change at least monthly until I meet my next broken heart.

I've been down so long... I know the end must be drawing near.

I wish I could help you. I wish that you were not speaking the words that came out of my mouth 22 days ago. This makes my heart break all over again and all I want to do is fix you. But since I can't fix myself, I certainly can't fix you.

I live in fear of someone being able to see through me, and you do it. Just like I know my mom knew something was off when I talked to her. You know the truth too, and its too bad that I don't like you enough to see through you.

I don't know what it is, but something's missing. I have a great job, a great life really and often I'm happy with it. But I hate it too, and I'm not sure why.

So maybe I should listen to my own voice, that voice from your mouth repeating my words back to me every once in a while. Maybe I should take my false idols down off the walls in my bedroom and replace them with reality; Jackie, Michelle, KJ, you.

Too bad I need the past to define me.

Midnight epiphany

I was thinking over the day's events in bed, before sleep, as I usually do and I had an epiphany (one that will of course, lead me to lose sleep again and be tired at work tomorrow).

I was thinking about how every time I hook up with a guy I ask them questions. Mostly about exes and their history, etc, etc - but last weekend when I did it I was asking really probing questions. And I realized why, in a very concrete way.

I like him; he's good looking, funny, and we developed a witty banter - and most importantly I felt like I could tell him almost anything. So of course before I get close, I decide that I'm going to ask a million of these questions. I probed and did so rudely, particularly when I got drunk. I apologized but I really don't think that matters as much as realizing that I screwed myself. (Especially when I backed off when he went under the bra - I should have gone with the flow.) I screwed myself out of a friend, maybe more when I was ready (which I'm certainly not).

I called my ex over the weekend - Troy, my major ex from college whose heart I broke - and it felt so great to be comfortable and close and love that I started talking with Chris and made plans to hang out. Now I know that I won't get back together with Chris, because doing so would be a) extremely flaky b) damaging to Chris and c) a foolish decision altogether. But being with someone who can't hurt you (or shouldn't be able to) is all I want to do.

So despite my banter on "I choose me" I found out that I keep screwing myself by asking those questions because I don't know why these guys are choosing to hang out with me (and enjoying it). I don't understand. And I'm sure that ties into my weight issues, too, since self-esteem and body image always go hand-in-hand. But if realization is my first step, I'm well on my way.

Another epiphany of the night: a friend and I were having an argument over The Biggest Loser. She thinks its harder to lose weight when you're obese than when you're small (she constantly argues that I don't know what its like to be fat, whereas I think I do.... since I feel I was fat) and said that I was wrong - that losing 18% of my body weight was probably easier than what the contestants on the Biggest Loser do because they have to carry that weight, etc etc. Now I see her point, but what pissed me off so much was that she didn't RECOGNIZE that I had just as much emotional (and physical, because I do have lower muscular tone and as a result am not on par fitness-wise with most people) baggage to carry as the contestants did.

I was really pissed and then I vented, and then I realized (on the toilet, no less) that it really doesn't matter what anyone thinks of me but me. This may not be true for all things, but its true for my weight. And I'd like to side with me on this one: that I'm damn proud of looking damn hot.

And if anyone doesn't like it, fuck them. I have to say that this is the same friend who hates/detests the new Weight Watchers commercial - the one with Cher in the background. I love it because of the sentence about feeling like you're the fattest woman in the room. My sentiment is that you can feel that way whether you're a size 6 or a size 30. Because really, all that matters is what's inside you.

So fuck everyone else. Except the guy I hooked up with. Cuz that's not happening, since I want him to be my friend. (The jury is still out, but at least I won't ask questions anymore about how big of a manslut he is. Hopefully.)

Just Like Jesse James

I forget how much I truly LOVE Cher. While I was moderately bored watching the Golden Globes last night, I went through my roomie's CDs to look for stuff to put in my Itunes... and before I put in the Cher my CD burner stopped working. Evil. So now I'm listening to it on my CD player in my room, wondering how I didn't put this on before Monster Ballads. On the upside, I do have Monster Ballads (Disc 1 and 2).

Chris directed me to good wholesalers online though and with his help I should be able to get one for a decent price that I can install myself in less than a week. Still, without adding CDs to Itunes, how good am I?

One of my friends brought up privacy this week, and I started thinking about it. Even though I inadvertently bring people up in here (i.e. I mention Jackie a lot, or Michelle, and this blog for a long time was basically me discussing all of Todd's faults), I really don't mean harm by it. But people with objections I only mention in passing (Chris, for example; Jackie, now that she's mentioned something).

Privacy doesn't mean anything to me online; most people can get this information by talking to me. And I do leave the heavy stuff for my journal. When I was struggling this weekend, I turned there. This just cuts down on my B&N costs of journals and tells my friends what's going on. And I try to be witty (which doesn't always work).

But in my grand plan to be more considerate and improve myself (now I sound as New Agey as my parents), I'm glad my will-remain-unmentioned friend brought up that he didn't want any of our adventures on the blog. And for some reason, that made it even more special. Not that it wouldn't have been otherwise, but I've forgotten how nice it is to keep stuff to myself.

As Richard Marx says, "Hold onto the nights..."

And now, I've lost all music credibility.
But I think that's lost to most people when I say I really dig Starship (or blog about Cher).

I Love A Rainy Night

And it looks like we're gonna have one. Anyone who doesn't believe in global warming should look out my window. It's January 14 and its 55 degrees and the forecast is for THUNDERSTORMS. In New York City, which should be covered in a blanket of snow.

My long weekend has started out splendidly. I went out with a friend from work last night and had a blast with him. Too bad that I didn't meet him elsewhere, or at a different time. He asked questions about Todd, so he got to be that guy.

He asked some good questions, which reaffirmed that I really can't be bothered with a relationship right now. But being with a guy that I'm attracted to (and he was attracted to me, I think) and just leaving it at that (albeit drunkenly) was a good experience.

Though I've gotta stop telling my "Slutty stories". They really are only a facet of who I am and if I want whomever I'm with to see that person I can't be shoving Slutty Meg in their faces all the time.

But, all in all, a grand start to the weekend. Hangover heat and sitting in my room in a tank top and shorts with the window open, comfortable as can be.

Feels Like Today

I was talking to Michelle last night (she came to stay with me while Jack was gone to CA for a couple days) and realized why I am actually staying away from Todd. And why it doesn't feel nearly as bad as before, and why I think I'll actually stay away.


I CHOOSE ME. I look at his contact info in Outlook at work, I have his email and phone number memorized and I choose not to use that information. I CHOOSE not to talk to him because I know what it does to me. Hence, I choose me,

And that's why my weight loss has happened. I looked at myself in the mirror one day with a bagel loaded with cream cheese in my hand and I thought, I CHOOSE ME. The food will not win. And so now, I'm a size six rather than a fourteen.

Whenever I make a major choice in my life and choose to value myself, I succeed (or at least feel better). So now, it's a question of applying that elsewhere (without being selfish).

This weekend, instead of waiting for people to come to me, I organized my weekend in about an hour - I asked Kenny if he was doing anything and then planned drinks with him on Friday. Saturday Amanda & I are hanging out and then on Sunday Danielle, Jamie and I are getting together to celebrate that we don't have to work (and watching Grey's Anatomy). Very, very cool.... and I feel like I'm finally turning a corner.

Ode to Vera Wang

On my excursion to Bloomingdale's with Michelle, I decided that since she had already BEEN married (and thus the fun of wedding dresses had declined) that we would go try on dresses we couldn't afford on the couture floor.





This Vera Wang gown off the rack was sale priced at around $600 (originally it was about $1,000). It was a size too big here, but I couldn't let myself look that fabulous without a higher credit limit (and frankly, a really HOT pair of shoes).

But I will put it out there. Any guy that a) buys me this dress and b) gives me a fun occasion in which to wear it, I will sleep with you. Possibly multiple times.

I love this dress so much that I'd get back with my bad exes for it. I wish that it was socially acceptable to get married in a red dress. (What ever stopped me from being socially unacceptable before, you asked? Unfortunately though, at the reception the DJ would have to play "Lady in Red" and I would be in prison about four minutes later (but I'd be wearing the dress).

The Conclusion of the Summit

As expected, the grand summit of Todd and Meghan's relationship did not come out with either of us smelling like roses - mostly because we did nothing but drink, sit on the couch eating takeout and having sex for two straight days - but also because whatever spark our relationship once had has now faded into a distant memory. I think I knew it while the weekend was going on; but I was trying my best to ignore it, and ignore how PISSED I was getting at Todd for not trying, for not liking me, in the immortal words of KC: "How come I never hear you say, I just wanna be with you/I guess you never felt that way."

Todd said he tried his hardest; I called him out on it and said that was a lie. I told him that I realized he wasn't trying when he wasn't even ATTEMPTING to hold me in bed when we slept next to one another which he used to do back in the day, and that he both showed up late (work thing ran over) and was leaving early (Sunday instead of Monday - I KNOW I mentioned Monday at Chrismakkah on Thursday).

Right before he left, I also told him that he was going to realize one day that I cared about him more than anyone else and that he chose to lose me.

I cried last night and today, mostly because I really do love Todd and I can see him morphing into a different person who frankly, I don't like that much. He's even more emotionally distant than before and I suspect that he's experience the beginning of a stress related ulcer from all those emotions being kept in. (Technically, it could also be from the cookies, pizza, and the nearly full tumbler of Johnny Walker Black Label he consumed while he was here, I'm not sure).

Michelle helped me last night by telling me that the guys she was with at 24 were all wrong for her too. Today, Athena counseled via IM (she had to work today, the poor girl!) and I met with my eternal therapists - my ipod and the city of New York.

I could tell that the city knew I needed it. I had a mournful teen look me straight in the eye and hold the gaze for at least 20 seconds right next to me on the subway and more than one person looked at me the same way while I was walking uptown on B'Way from Columbus Circle. It could have also been the fact that I'm an attractive, skinny girl in a bright green peacoat, but I would like to think its because I've got red rings around my eyes not only from Todd but also from FINALLY watching Hotel Rwanda (I've had it since mid-November from Netflix). I almost cried on the damn A between 145th and 125th thanks to my girl, KC (Kelly Clarkson, who is AWESOME for breakup music, god bless her). After all, I think I've known this was coming for longer than I realized - the entire time that I was sad and just didn't know it.

So I think I'm doing better. I'm not falling down in my shower or collapsing on my floor in the agony of losing the redhead in Riverdale. And I am taking comfort in that he's getting fatter too. But really - Chris gave me some killer advice and I pretty much wrapped up why I'm not dealing with the Pag anymore - I can't waste any more of my life obsessed with making this work.

I woke up this morning listening to Jimmy Wayne's "Stay Gone" in my head:

When we try to make it work

We both end up hurt

Love ain't supposed to be that way

So baby baby stay

Stay right where you are

I like it this way

It's good for my heart

I haven't felt like this

In ooh in God knows how long

I know everything's gonna be okay

If you just stay gone