music for your morning.

a boy in a bar recently told me the type of music i love means i got a little texas left in me yet. i fell in love with him for that alone. ask me about the time i drew the lone star state's shape on the palm of a man's hand. i was explaining the panhandle and the gulf. his hand in mind was heaven. 

funny that it's only just now after nearly eight years in this city,  that i'm coming to learn about and love the low-country gal upon which the rest of me is built. 

look again, looks deceive, i'm a little bit earthy and a little bit wild. 

i digress...to the music: 

(just for kicks, an added {kickass} bonus)...

dinner.

i had an almond-milk-latte for dinner, tonight. well, that and a large chocolate-chip cookie from the baked-goods section of whole foods. i mean, okay so it was vegan and surely that counts for something?  but in terms of sugar...loaded and isn't that the front i'm trying to cut back on?

funny thing is, i was actually quite hungry--the kind of odd sits-under-your-ribs-painful kind of hunger. but nothing spoke to me. i circled the salad bar, weight the couscous versus quinoa versus my usual go-to of crispy falafel bites. even wandered over to the pizzas.

not one thing appealed.

well, one thing: sugar.

it was stress. the stress called out for it. and for something warm to hold between the hands. the fact that i could dip the cookie into the warm drink? icing on the cake, icing on the cake.

it was my second latte of the day.

the first was mid-afternoon. an attempt to combat a cloying exhaustion. the second, proverbial icing for the stress sugar in cookie form.

forgive yourself this dinner. forgive yourself this moment. those were my thoughts standing in the middle of whole foods, readying to head downtown for the first rehearsal in the actual space.

and you know what? i did. immediately i did. i granted myself forgiveness. and few things have felt better.

after all, i had spent my day making pretty good choices (raw savory coconut rounds and all). and given that i wasn't holding a box of entemenan's pop-ems, i figured this choice wasn't all that bad. could be worse.

balance and moderation. and forgiveness.

linking up and such.

the above illustration is by Faye West. how gorgeous is her artwork? (her blog).

a brilliant article on chris brown and the message the media (or is the music industry? or maybe, both?) is sending to women by touting him as some sort of comeback-kid. (kudos to Zooey Deschanel and all the women of Hello Giggles for posting such exemplary content).

i really am half-in-love with this woman. and all the way there full-on-smitten with her words. in fact i'm thinking of taking her on as my life-coach, if she'll have me, of course.

as a firm believer that healthy eating is in large part experimentation--trial and error--figuring out what works now and why, i'm really thinking of giving this woman's i quit sugar program a go.  (i already bought and am loving her ebook). there is startling new stuff coming out suggesting that sugar is a toxin that must be regulated like alcohol and other drugs. i tend to trust this science more than others because no one really has any money to gain by advocating we drastically cut back on sugar. (think an end to processed foods as we know them, oh the money that would cost the country! but oh the boon to the quality of life!).

a little video for the play i'm in which opens on thursday (euf). {and yes, the bags under my eyes were less than ideal, but i was about three weeks into a crippling cold when that video was shot. my vanity request that you keep that in mind}.

i bought this print today. and am waiting for this one in the mail. i expect my next apartment will be filled mostly by books and framed words.

as for music i'm working on putting together a playlist, but for now, i'm stuck on this avett brother's tune (heaven help me, i'd like to make love inside that harmony) and this dawes anthem (on a separate but somehow related note, i'm thinking of finding myself a mountain man. plain shirts, rough hands and all).


and now for a little business: when there is time and i return to this corner of the internet i plan on writing about (1) food and my continuously changing relationship to it. (2) acting and why i stepped away from it and how i now regard the medium. and (3) what i did during the Super Bowl.

actually i can answer that last one now: i went to target. yes, you heard that right. super bowl sunday found me at a target in the bronx. i always go somewhere that is usually crowded in an uncomfortable way, because when the super bowl is on that all changes. whole foods and fairway (both grocery stores here in new york) are other favorites for that one night. 

i also plan on getting back to posting photos and sharing the ins-and-outs of life here on the island.

i thank you all (you readers, you) for your continued support and encouragement and patience with me as i give the blog a little less time while pursuing other passions.

xo
meg

a sunday lover.

there comes a point every night when i crawl or hoist myself into bed and in the space between bended knees and face flat into the pillow that i give thanks for the comfort of a bed that is all my own.

for anyone who has ever shared a bed--be it a single night or several years--with someone who's not quite right, you know the joy that sleeping alone can bring. the not-quite-right provides a perspective like no other. a glorious thing that perspective is.

someone recently asked me if i mind being single? what a silly question. well, i haven't yet met someone who makes me wanna to give up my current Facebook status, so no. i don't mind it. not at all. i'm pretty sure that i wasn't so snide when responding to him, but he was angling, and i was side-stepping. (and just in case you didn't know, i'm not the girl that feels the need to list any sort of Facebook relationship status at all. so there). and why does blogger keep capitalizing Facebook for me? maybe i want a lowercase f...

damn, this was meant to be a poetic and lovely post about sundays and the space between and the yearning for a companion.

let me try again:

i don't mind this single life.

not usually.

but sundays are different. sundays i feel the absence upon waking. it is on sundays that i long for a brunch companion. or someone to help me with the new york time's puzzle. someone for whom to make an extra bit of coffee. someone to fall back into bed around noon with.

a sunday someone.




one of my girlfriends recently said she was in search of a part-time lover.

i'll take one just for sundays, please.

I was always aware of being a little different.

In a land where lineage stretches far and wide and wild, rooting itself in the terrain of the place, i came from stock that came from...somewhere else.

I remember a fourth grade classmate who claimed descendence from the first man who crossed William Travis' famous line in the sand. Remember the Alamo, indeed.

In Texas, the state's history borders on folklore. Or religion. It is ingrained, mystical, and all-powerful. A reflection of the greatness of the state.

Did you know that technically the state flag of Texas is the only state flag that can fly as high as the American flag? In Texas this is a point of pride--and to see another flag at the same level as our great nation's? Well, we quietly swallow the injustice of that that--the flagrant act of disrespect. No, not disrespect against the United States, no we don't worry about that. Disrespect against Texas.

Thing is, I wasn't raised by Texans. My lineage isn't there rolling across the plains. It is on two ships crossing over from Poland and Ireland, respectively. It is in a small apartment in the Bronx, not far from where I live now. In a small home in Salamanca, close to Buffalo, in a town that is ever-so-slowly-dyring, but who lives in my mind