Sunday, February 26, 2012

love, that is.


love, that is.

And so it was.  Love, that is.  That’s what they were in.  Love.  There were opportunities calling out for him but he opted to stay with love.  There weren’t any opportunities for her.  She wondered what she would have done had he not come back for her. 
Marry another? 
Become an old maid? 
There was no need to think of it.  He was there and that’s all that mattered.
He never wondered what his life would have been like had he decided otherwise.  He only wanted his life with her. 
His love, his life, his family, his heart. 
All with her. 
Together, they had three boys.  They bought a house, then sold it.  They built a house and sold that.  They bought another house and sold it.  And finally they moved into the house they would grow old together in.  The house his parents grew old together in.
He still lived for her.  She grew older and couldn’t get around much.  He never complained.  They were a team!  That’s what happens in life!  Oh, and what a life it was, he would exclaim! 
They grew older and older together until she got sick.  He stayed by her side and he held her hand.  He listened to her when she told him she was scared.  He listened to her when she picked out her last outfit.  And then he listened to her last breaths.  She was gone. 
All of his life was meant for her. 
His love, his life, his heart. 
All for her. 
He lived his last days asking for her.  Asking what she thought about all of this.  Asking if she would be coming in to see him.  Then he was gone.  And now, for all we know, he is with her again.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Good Night, Beloved Pet

To my dear friend, my cat 
You came into my life what seems to be yesterday 
You won me over with your feline characteristics 
You jumped out of a 2nd-story window 
You escaped every chance you got 
You sat out on the ledge of a 3rd-floor balcony 
cackling at the birds 

You slept in the sink 
You sat on my lap when I sat on the toilet 
You sat at the edge of the bathtub when I was in the shower 
You sat on the sink 
putting your paw up 
preventing me from brushing my teeth 
or putting on make up 

You laid at my feet 
You laid on my laptop 
You laid on my clean clothes 
You laid on anything that seemed to be important at the time 
And when we asked you “Why?” 
You looked up with glazed eyes 
and gave out a tiny 
“mew.” 
as a response 

You taught Gidget your ways 
You looked out for her 
You bullied her 
Like a big sister would 
She looks for you sometimes 
Thinking you’ll pop out and chase her down the hallway 
She misses you 
And so do I 

You were my first pet that I called my own 
We’ve been through a lot together 
Different apartments 
Different people 
Different pets of other people 
The one constant was you and me 
You made my life better 
I hope you know you were loved 
by everyone that met you 

Good night Nellie 
My Beloved Pet

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Gimme Fiction

"Slept In"

I sit in my car and look down at the clock. Late for work again. Waiting for a light to turn green when you are already late for work seems like an eternity. As I try to think of a reason better than “It’s hard for me to leave the house sometimes”, a woman catches my eye. She is walking across the street, not really walking, more like shuffling. She has blonde hair, is about 5’3”, maybe 160 pounds. I recognize her. She comes into work almost everyday and asks to get on a computer.

The first day she came in, she handed me her passport, which caught me slightly off guard. Most people I knew that had passports were young, vibrant travelers ready to paint their name across the world. But as I looked at her picture, I saw that was what she was. Young, vibrant, a traveler. The picture looks like it was taken 30 years ago. You can see the life in her eyes.

The passport looked a bit tattered, probably expired but that doesn’t matter where I work. We just need some sort of identification saying you are who you are. I wonder where she has been with this. London? Brazil? Istanbul? What did she do there? Maybe she was a part of the peace corps helping areas in third world countries develop into communities. Or maybe she was a nurse in the army and helped wounded soldiers heal. Or maybe she was just a traveler. She backpacked through the Eastern Alps studying the lithology of rock units.

I must have been wondering for too long, because she took me out of my train of thought and mumbled something. “I’m sorry, what?” I asked. “Salvation Army.” I nodded. People who stay at the Salvation Army don’t have to pay to get on the computers. I gave her a pass and directed her toward the computer. She shuffled over and sat down.

As I watched her, I thought about how she was almost unrecognizable to the person in the passport picture. The young woman in the picture looked like she had goals. She looked like she had a plan. Where did she go wrong? This woman was practically homeless. This woman who, at some point in her life, wanted to paint her name across the world.

A car beeps their horn behind me. It practically sends me through the roof of my car. I have a green arrow. I guess I’ll just right down that I slept in. How do you write down on a small piece of paper that you weren’t doing anything important that made you late. You ate breakfast really slow, laid down with your cats for awhile, watched a rerun of “Frasier” and then realized that you should have left five minutes ago? I guess I’ll just say I slept in.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

My Article for the Onion Newspaper


If I worked for The Onion, this is the type of story I would submit:






STATE FARM INSURANCE DECIDES TO REEVALUATE LONG STANDING SLOGAN AFTER REALIZING GOOD NEIGHBORS MIND THEIR OWN BUSINESS.


We all know that slogan. It’s been pounded into our brains just like everything else out there. “Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there.” Go ahead, try and read it without singing that tune. This has been a part of the famous insurance company since ... I don’t know, but it’s been a long time. Probably since the 60’s or something, because that’s probably still when everyone was being nice to each other. You old-timers remember, whenever you needed any help, you could just walk across the yard and ask good ol’ Tom to come over. Then you would share a cold beer with him. And later he’d invite you to a key party or something. Ah yes, those were the days. Things are totally different now.

Don’t act like you actually answer the door whenever your family comes around, let alone your neighbor. If you need a cup of sugar, and there is none in your cabinets, you drive to the grocery store and get some. In these hard economic times, we can’t be carelessly borrowing things from each other. You don’t go knocking on your neighbors door with a measuring cup in your hand asking, “Can I borrow some sugar?” What if they only have a few cups left themselves? You have just put them in an awkward position. If they don’t give you a cup, they’re an asshole. Am I right? So, they give you a cup. Now your neighbor can’t make his or her sons birthday cake for tomorrow. Way to go, jackass.

All this isolation finally came to the attention of the State Farm Insurance PR team. They realized that their once valid slogan had completely lost it’s meaning. Instead of, “If you’re injured in a car accident, we’ll be there to help just like a friendly neighbor would”, State Farm customers were hearing this, “If you’re injured in a car accident, we’ll turn off the lights and sit quietly in the dark until you leave, like a neighbor would”.

The PR team decided on a few different slogans. The first, “We’re better than your neighbors, because we won’t pretend we don’t know you in the mall”. Focus group’s found this to be too condescending. The next, which didn’t follow the original jingle, “State Farm. When we meet it’s all business. We definitely won’t drag you into a long boring conversation about our children being on the honor roll. We know you don’t care”. But the focus group’s thought, although honest, it wasn’t as catchy.

The PR team was just about to give up, when a gentlemen from a neighboring office suggested they go with, “State Farm. We’re there if you need us”. It took him a long time to get the team’s attention though, since he was from a neighboring office and all.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Who doesn't love animals!

You can't have the remote.
I said, you can't have it!
YOU CAN'T HAVE IT!

So you think you're a crazy cat lady? You probably are. Don't fight it though. There's no shame. Here's a little test to see if you actually are one or not:

1. Do your cats have middle names?
2. Do you talk to your cats?
3. Do you take pictures of your cats?
4. And then give them their own photo album on facebook?
5. Or do your cats have their own facebook?
6. Do you get christmas/birthday presents with cats on them?
7. Do you have a tattoo of a cat...

Ok, this is getting too personal. So far I have answered yes to all of these. But at least I don't have 6 pugs...

...oh wait.

Yes, I live with 6 dogs, 3 cats and possibly a possum that my mom insists on giving a name. She calls him Ralph. I'm not complaining. In fact, I really do love living with animals. I've lived with animals my entire life. When I was younger, we had 2 dogs and 3 cats (different than the 3 cats I have right now). I love having pets.
And judging by the incredible amount of animal blogs and a television network dedicated specifically to animals, I can guess I am not the only one. So here's my own little 2 cents for any animal lover out there that cares: the best thing to do for any animal is to rescue them. If you are looking for a new pet, you can find a rescue shelter for it somewhere near you. Dog, cat, ferret, rats... you name it. They all need help. If you have a big heart, and have time to take care of an animal that needs it, please look into rescuing it.
And just so you know, I'm not blowing smoke right now. I live and take care of (with my parents) two rescue pugs. Kissy and MoJo (or Mr. Mosby, as I like to call him) acted as a puppy factory for their previous owner. Kissy had 6 litters in 7 years. When Kissy developed bad allergies and they found out Mr. Mosby had a condition where his eyelashes grew on the inside of his eyelids, causing him to scratch his cornea everytime he blinked, the previous owner passed them on to the animal shelter. When my mom heard about this, she flew over to the shelter. When she saw them, Kissy was practically itching her skin off and Mr. Mosby was running into walls because he was partially blind.
Two years have passed since then. Kissy gets half a children's benadryl twice a day (because my mom doesn't want to cause her any pain with shots once a month) and Mr. Mosby gets eye drops twice a day. They are the most loving dogs and my parents (or me) wouldn't trade them for anything.

So rescue some animals! Here are some websites:
http://www.saveapetil.org/index.php - this website was featured on WGN on October 8th. It is a No-Kill Adoption Center.

http://www.animalshelter.org/ - you can do quick pet searches to find a ferret, bird, cat, dog or other animal in your area.

http://www.anticruelty.org/ - this is the website for the Anti-Cruelty Society located on Grand Ave in Chicago. Here you can adopt, donate money or even volunteer (which is really fun because you get to care for a lot of the animals)

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Stuck.


I'm stuck at school with nothing to do. For the most part my homework is done. I have commented on everyone's facebook status's and checked out the LOLcatz for today. I can't help but look around the lunch room and imagine what all these people are doing.

Two ladies walk by. One has earbuds in her ears, the other one is talking. Is she talking to her? She clearly isn't listening. Maybe the one lady talking is lonely. She is just rambling to herself. She desperately wants to be heard. And the other lady, with the earbuds, is lonely too. She just wants to listen. She wants to hear everything. So when she sees the talking lady, she walks near her. The talking lady doesn't object, she wants to be heard. People think, "they must be good friends".

There's a guy carrying a box. I see him around sometimes. He perpetually has a pouty face. His bottom lip sticks out and his brow is furrowed. He's checking the vending machines for change. You know, the part of the vending machines that shoots out change when you put too much money in. He's sticking his fingers in there and feeling around. Oh! He found some! Way to go, dude! I am legitimately excited for him. He still looks like he's pouting though.

Whoa. Here's a guy that just walked up with an apron on. Not a cooking apron, but one of those artists aprons. There's paint all over it. I bet he wants everyone to know that he as an artist. A painter. I shouldn't hate. If I had something to distinguish me from other students here, I would totally wear it. ...No I wouldn't. I like being inconspicuous here. I still shouldn't hate. Maybe he is in the middle of something and got really hungry. He probably has to run back to the studio. Yep, there he goes.

There's the guy that works in the GSU library. I see him all the time. I wonder if he's married.

I see one of my former teachers sitting across the way with a guy who, I can only presume, is some sort of big shot. He's wearing a nice suit. Maybe their talking about how former Governor Blagojevich doesn't have his picture up in the Hall of Governors. "George Ryan's picture is up there. He's a crook." "Well, yeah, but Blagojevich is down right nuts!" That guy just said "nuts!" really loud, that's why I think that's what they're saying. Or maybe he was just exclaiming his love for the tasty snack. "What's your most favorite thing in the whole world?" "NUTS!"

There are two gentlemen in the Hall of Governors looking around. They look like they are discussing important business. I imagine them talking about how they should tear it down. "Tear it all down! Just build a mini-mall right here. All the major cities are doing it. Think of all the revenue!"

Still an hour and a half before class starts. Maybe I'll eat another Snickers.

Friday, September 10, 2010

It's funny what makes you smile.


I've been in a period of self-loathing lately. You know, feeling like you have nothing to offer. I've been feeling like I have nothing to write about. I've been really upset because of my financial state. I owe a few hundred dollars here and there and when you don't have any money (or a decent job) a few hundred dollars here and there seems like A LOT. So for that past three months, I've been silently worrying about what I would do about it while simultaneously spending little bits of money here and there on some of the stupidest shit. Excuse my language, but that's exactly what it is. Do I really need that belt? Do I really need that comic book? Do I really need that pin shaped like a bicycle? The answer is no.
To top it all off, my car recently broke down. I spent the entire day wallowing in self pity. Oh woe is me! Whatever will I do? Whine, cry, whine, cry. Oh, I'm so irresponsible. If I hadn't bought that toy for my cat, I could have put that money away to save for a rainy day, just like this.
My job hasn't really been all that great either. I work at a corporate restaurant as a server (for those of you who don't know) and you really have to be motivated to make money. I am not. I dislike my job so much that when they tell me to go home without making any money that day, I say okay. Being fully aware of the horrible financial state I am in.
I have spent the last couple of days looking for a new job. One that will take me away from the horrible corporate restaurant. So far I've gotten nowhere. BUT, this isn't a rant about how terrible my life is. This isn't one of those things where at the end I type FML and await comments from the few people reading this saying, "Cheer up, Megan! You can do it!" After all, the title of this blog is It's funny what makes you smile. I'm pretty sure so far, none of this has made anyone smile.
Ok, ok to the point. I spent all of yesterday being a girl and crying about my car and my money, because I didn't know what else to do. My sweet, wonderful boyfriend came over last night and tried his hardest to make me feel better, but I wasn't budging. Then today, I walked to the Public Library to fill out an application at the request of a wonderful friend who works there.
The walk took me about an hour. I was sweaty. I was hot. My feet hurt. Halfway through the walk, I was miserable.
I was about ready to text my boyfriend, who, I knew, was busy, and tell him to come and pick me up. Just then, I saw an old man. He was walking down the sidewalk, with a noticeable limp and only had one arm. He was looking up at the sky, then slowly looked down at me as he walked towards me. I quickly looked away, with the sour look on my face that had only gotten worse with each step I took. I looked back at him just as we passed each other and he was still looking at me. He had a giant smile on his face and, without stopping, simply said "Smile!"
I walked passed him, didn't look back, but had the most gigantic smile on my face. The rest of the walk was great. I realized what a beautiful day it was. Instead of being upset at how hot and sweaty I was, I was happy that I was able (due to extenuating circumstances) to have this opportunity to take a nice long walk and enjoy the day.

So, basically, an old man with a limp and only one arm made me realize how lucky I was and that I should appreciate the things in my life, by simply saying smile. So, at the risk of sounding cheesy I say, to you, dear reader, SMILE! :)