he's just not that into you....

ok. i know i'm light years behind contemporary women everywhere, but for my first night in Boulder with Bek, i wasn't tired, so i read the first three chapters of He's Just Not That Into You. Let's just say, I didn't have high expectations- what literary wisdom can possibly come from a book, made into a movie, where jennifer conelly gets cheated on and jennifer aniston has to trick ben affleck into marrying her. this is pretty much the opposite of reality if you ask me.

please try to cheat on this woman, and then see what happens. only the tiger woods' of the world get away with this crap, and even he got beat with golf clubs by a blonde.

Anyway, when i opened up this pop culture phenomenon i was not ready for this comedy and truth expressed perfectly in words:

"I'm about to make a wild, extreme, and severe relationship rule: The word "busy"

is a load of crap and is most often used by assholes. The word "busy" is the relationship

weapon of mass destruction. It seems like a good excuse, but in fact, in every silo you

uncover, all you're going to find is a man who didn't care enough to call. Remember,

men are never too busy to get what they want."

well, i'm not to sure about all the "man" generalizations the author is making here, because unless i'm a man, and i am not, i too like to get what i want; and strangely enough, i think most women over the age of 20 understand the concept of prioritizing. so, maybe the point here isn't that men and women can't make functional relationships NOT because the man is too busy to call the over-emotional, over-analyzing, desperate, waiting by the phone woman. maybe the problem is that both men and women possess the higher executive function to prioritize what they want, and maybe both are prioritizing the wrong things.

i didn't start reading this book because i have a floundering, desperate dating life where i meet loads of men that never call me. as all of you (minus creepy internet stalkers) know, i have absolutely zero dating life since entering med school (that's approximately 1.5 years if you're counting). yep, that's right, what are you doing right now meg, welllll, ohhhh i'm just blogging in bed while eating beef jerky.

so, the point i'm reflecting on here is not one of romantic relationships, but more of relationships in general. "Busy" is an age old word used by both our mothers and fathers for generations and generations before us to get out of stuff they didn't care about / find important. and i completely agree with greg behrendt when he says that "busy" is a word most often used by assholes. its good to know that my medical education is pruning me into a scientific, critical thinker / asshole. how many times a day do i hear/talk about how busy i am and how much i have to do. why? because in so many ways our busy-ness can determine our self-worth. if i'm not active to the point of exhaustion and under-eye circles, i don't feel like i accomplished much. maybe this isn't what life is all about.

i can't wait to start off the new semester with the knowledge i will never be too busy for things i actually care about. and although i will be making NO new years' resolutions, i am excited about the enlightenment that busy-ness brings as well as my new anti-wrinkle cream.

i tried.

15. confession: i saw the lion king (not the animated movie, but the musical) the other night. it was beautiful. i wanted to say it was perfect, but it wasn't actually. really, i was freezing cold most of the time and pretty far away from the stage. the guy that played Mufasa kind of sucked and the grown up Simba had a bit of lisp. i also had a full plate of beef tacos and a marg beforehand and kind of wanted to die. BUT it was beautiful, nonetheless. which is how must things in life turn out anyway; imperfect yet all together beautiful when you look back on it. overall, my favorite part was the ballerinas that played the grass. they swayed and whirled just like i imagine human sized grass in Africa would. also, the whole theme of the symbiosis of nature was pretty overwhelmingly emotional for some reason.

those giraffes are pretty out of control.

14. confession: i'm feeling pretty drugged up on cough medicine right now and it took me about 45 mintues to write the paragraph above. so i'm giving up on the confessions. i hereby retreat into Christmas hiburnation with a 5 book reading list and new Gap pajamas. love you all and see you in the new year, where i will not be doing any resolutions. Peace and Joy, forever and Always.

love you, mr. frodo

16. confession: yep, that's an inappropriately long lord of the rings quote in the margin of my blog. and it's not leaving. get over it.

second try

17. tonight i watched the office instead of studying for my psychopathology exam. this is the first time i've watched non-DVR'd TV in a while. it was worth it. Micheal Scott dressed up as Jesus.

"His last name is Christ, he has the power of flight, and he heals leopards"

p.s. i'm slightly pissed at you readers for not informing me of the horrible numbering tragedy of the last post. bonus confession: i HATE proof reading. can you tell?

Christmas Confessions

instead of being Scrooge-like this Christmas season, I've decided to get into the spirit by doing a 25 days of Christmas confession count down. i know, i know, the 25ish days of Advent have already started. but since Christmas this year is all about being honest (i've recently decided that), what better way to start the count down than by confessing that i hadn't even noticed it was December until today, when i realized i was 8 confessions behind? gosh it feels good to get that off my chest!

anyway, here it goes.

25.confession: this is what gave me the idea:

i love glee. what is better than a bon jovi it's my life/ usher confession mix with an asian kid break dancing in the middle? you can get back to me on that one.

24. confession: i truly believe this.

if you feel the same way, you can find support here.
i also think a similar situation applies every time a girl in San Antonio wears uggs.

23. confession: i don't actually own a bedazzler.

i own two bedazzlers.

22. confession (yes, i am going to write that for all 25...): i haven't said "holy shit" ever since kaili elaine sent me this email....


21. confession: after everything with Tiger, i've decided that BobbySeis was right. My standards for men are too high. but can i help it that my dad let me watch Top Gun when i sick on my birthday in the 4th grade? i don't think so..... ( i am super pissed at blogspot for not allowing me to embed this video)



22. confession: when i stumbled across this picture today while "studying" in the library, i cried a little.

see earlier posts on crocodiles for details.

21. i'm about 90% sure i'm doomed to become a psychiatrist. i'm 100% sure the majority of my patients will be my current classmates and medical students around the world whose souls are dying a slow, painful death of youth and innocence lost. i'm 105% sure that all the unread medical journals throughout the rows of the library emit some type of spirit and collagen degrading substance.

22. confession: whenever i think about the 2 confessions above, i look at these. and everything's better.



i contend that the photo booth mirror function is one of the top 10 inventions of our time. medical student meg or middle eastern super spy? only time will tell......

well, that's all i've got for now.

it's now or never. i just wanna live while i'm alive....

peace, joy, and baby jesus

meg

Get Behind Me, Santa

how i feel about christmas '09 so far.

It's times like these I must trust the words of a wiser soul, and when it comes to Christmas, that soul is Mr. Sufjan Stevens. I'll love you forever.

hmmmmmmm

recently i decided that i'm going to try to stop using the phrase "holy shit". i mean, is there anything MORE un-lady-like that could come out of my mouth? ok, you're right, there are definitely other things that would be worse, but still, this phrase is NOT classy. when i told a friend about my decision, she asked me why i decided to cease use of this offensive tag line. i didn't really have a good answer. i think i BS'd something, like, 'well, isn't it just intrinsically wrong?'. honestly, i don't really have a good answer for this question, except that i just feel like i should stop. i should stop cursing all together. but then how would i incorporate inappropriate levels of hyperbole into my everyday speech? the thought of removing my shield of cynicism is quite disarming.

some of you would say that cursing is definitely a contra-indication to a Godly life. isn't it pretty clear that the Bible says cursing is just down-right inappropriate? to you i say, absolutely, and you are a better person than i. others of you would say that cursing is the most crude form of prayer - a true crying out of desperation. i agree with you, too. i am a pretty confused and frazzled person at this point in my life. maybe my curses are just another manifestation of the chaos that has pervaded even my subconscious thought; perhaps they are an uncontrolled expression of loss of control. (if you need another example, just ask me about my dreams. they are WEIRD, and you've probably been in one, too).

(don't worry, i'm not going sci-fi on you ; she's just the antagonist from last night's dream.....)

the point is that even though "holy shit" is just a meaningless phrase that reveals the weakness of my humanity, i'm not entirely too sure that God is very concerned about this. aren't there bigger fish to fry? isn't the world full of a lot deeper and more painful tragedy than my uncouth vocabulary? is my pursuit of truth more than an adherence to an idea i don't currently relate to? or am i just unwilling to accept the fact that i need a little behavioral change? i think a little more time and thought on the subject is important for me to understand this concept, as of right now all i have is a should. i'm 100% sure that shoulds aren't going to get us through life, won't produce peace and joy, and will most definitely not prevent me from screaming in sheer terror every time i accidentally go to the 24/7 christmas music station in the morning (this has become a problem as of late).

so what's the deal?

ever since i was a kid i, i've adhered to structure quite well. i follow most rules quite faithfully, am very loyal, and take commitments very seriously. i used to take pride in this. now i think it may be a fault.

i started this blog to reveal a little more of who i am to those around me. even if you are a creepy internet stalker reading this right now, i think that's ok. i wanted Not now, but soon to be a testament to the fluidity of life and the embracing of change; a commitment to unraveling mystery, a exposition of the beauty of growth and relationship. i dare to say that so far i have failed at this miserably. yes, i want to be funny and make you laugh at how incredibly ridiculous my thoughts and habits are, but i also want you to know me. i want to practice writing and revealing who i am.

sadly, somewhere along the way i made my blog about pleasing others instead of revelation. i made it more about entertainment than discovery. i apologize and pledge re-direction.

i really don't want to get stuck in one of these...... (many thanks to alice , as i stole this from her fabulous blog)

my biggest fear in life is losing sight of who i am, of who i was made to be. i don't want to wake up one morning in suburbia with a nice, respectable husband and 3 nice, respectable children and wonder what happened to my life. i would like remain the uncouth, yet classy, passionate woman that i am. blog reader, if you made it through this post, i dedicate it to you, whom i thank for entering into the journey of unraveling our shoulds to coulds alongside me.

Nashville

"welcome home, bitch"

more to come soon.

the fort

this exam week, i am taking residence in my fort. who says peace and joy can't pervade the most dreaded week of the month?


exam week: the week where all your worst nightmares of life failure and life-long undiagnosed tetralogy of fallot are your closest companions; the week when all of your hours on the stairmaster fall victim to chick-fil-a and the downstairs snack machine; that dreaded week when your risk of deep vein thrombosis exponentially rises and your exposure to sunlight is null.

i refuse to accept this. i will take haven in my fort until the storm passes. this cardiology module, instead of wasting time in the library on facebook and urbanoutfitters.com, i will pass the time takeing emo pictures of my string lights, and then subsequently edit them in iphoto.


i will make myself hot chocolate every 1/2 hour and pretend it's not actually 80 degrees outside. i will watch the puppy cam without shame.

if need you me, you can find me at:
meg's childhood regression fort that is accidentally overtly sexual
spare room of The Ranch
south of the string lights and paper snowflakes
atop multiple pillows
underneath t-shirt quilt

if you get lost, you can ask missy's stuffed bevo for the girl listening to offensively loud music, most likely asleep in the corner of the fort. he'll point you in the right direction.

Most Embarassing Post So Far

Today in pharmacology we learned about drugs that prevent blood clots and emboli. My teacher is an avid story teller that wears old-man cardigans; like all old men, i harbor both ardent love for and paralyzing fear of him. he told us the story of a patient he visited once in the hospital that had a prosthetic heart valve. evidently there are a lot of different types of prosthetic valves, and this patient happened to have one of these: a starr-edwards mitral valve replacement.

it turns out that this device, used to direct blood flow in your heart, audibly clicks every time blood flows through it. you know when you get super nervous and you can hear your heart beat? just imagine hearing it all the time AND CLICKING.

well, this idea got me pretty freaked out and alarmingly brought to mind one of the most terrifying characters of my childhood:

the crocodile from Peter Pan.

Remember this creeper? He followed peter around with that annoying clock, totally crashing his party in Neverland. As a child, this guy was SUPER disturbing. But as an adult, I can't think of anything more weird and twisted. Maybe it's the fact that i've devoted my life to a profession dedicated to preventing death, but this crocodile is seriously morbid.

So, after about a good three hours of dwindling over this idea while 'studying' in the library, this twisted crocodile lead me to thoughts on my own childhood. in fact, i've been thinking about my childhood quite often as of late. nothing makes me happier than remembering the carefree days of youth. oh, to return to the years of perfect skin, a normal waist-to-hip ratio, and my huffy bicycle!

so, i thought i would dedicate this post to the bangin' years of my youth, share some of my favorite photos with you, and embarass my sisters a little. get excited.

Figure 1: My sisters.


please note that on the this fourth of july in the early 90's, i was petty darn cute. kristen is in the back covering her face. and yes, this is anne marie and her afro. please take a moment to appreciate how much she looks like Luigi from the mario brothers.

Figure 2: the entrance of Mac and Christmas in the Zoffuto household.

look! anne marie grew out her afro and mac is the fatest baby ever. kristen is wearing a letter jacket and my hair is dangerously close the fire place already. foreshadowing? i think so.

Figure 3: September 12, 1990: survival of the fittest

the burger king ball pit with my best friend ashley on her birthday. i'm pretty sure this exact location is the origin of methicillin resistant staph aureus. check out those curly bangs!

Figures 4 and 5: lets give credit where credit is due: the parents


there's nothing more fun than a family-wide bike ride! remember, safety first, and all familial helmets MUST match.


i'm not in this pic, but the fact that members of my family got to touch a real smurf is good enough for me. also, please note the length of my dad's non-existent coaching shorts. priceless.

Finally: the picture that defines my life even to this day:

each day i aspire to find this girl and those fabulous sunglasses.

peace and joy to you, my friends. reflect upon the days of your youth and watch out for that wierd ass crocodile. he always shows up in the most unexpected places.

dear starbucks guy

dear starbucks guy,

i admire your perseverance, really. the 5 times you have walked back and forth from your table to the splenda/creamer/stirrer/trash can station in the last 30 minutes, i have avoided your gaze. i am truly sorry i made eye contact the first time. i guess i forgot that looking at you for less than a millisecond made it ok for you to stare at me for the next 500,000. oh, look, your creepiness has officially ruined my focus for the epic blog post i was trying to compose, and now you are actually talking to me?

what's that you say? what am i working on? well actually i am a medical student. that should be enough to scare you off, right? a women over 5'2", that has brains? oh, ok. you're so creepy that that doesn't creep you out. shit.

have i heard of doctors without borders, yes actually i have. you go, doctors without borders, save those african children from malaria.

wait, creepy starbucks guy, are you actually telling me that you think DWB is useless? yes, you actually said that. What's that you said afterward, "if you really want to help Africans, you shouldn't give them medicine or food. what they need is brute military force". wow, creepy starbucks guy, you have officially ruined all faith i had in mankind for at least the next 3 months. thanks.

wait, peace and joy shall prevail! i know EXACTLY what you need. you see, last week i was at Panera, and a man twice your age and creepiness level told me about some poker game he has every Monday night behind the North Star Mall. he invited me to come. i wasn't interested but you should TOTALLY go. here, i'll give you his business card that he gave me; i'm sure he won't mind. call him up, i'm 100% positive he'll agree with you on the whole "brute force conquers all" theory. now i must go. i have grey's anatomy episodes to catch up on.

peace and joy to new relationships and loving life!

new and improved posts to come.....

URGENT

Dear Beloved Blog Readers,

Many of you may or may not know that i may or may not have a shopping problem. This problem may or may not interfere with my daily pursuit of peace and joy. If you don't stop me, i may or may not buy these. help.

yes. they may or may not be covered in gold sequins.

this is urgent.

The life and times of Zibin Zhao

Since my last post, it seems that time has just flown bye. I've been busy, really. "well WHAT have you been doing, meg"? you ask. some examples:

1. I learned how to grow the branches of my tree pose in yoga the other day. it was quite possibly one of the best workout experiences i'v ever had. especially the next day, when lifting my arms felt like a feat of the gods.

here's what it looks like:



and yes, my proportions are JUST LIKE this girls'. and yes, this IS HARD.

2. i've been experimenting with my hair alot. (this takes time). in light of the intro of peace and joy into my life, i thought it might be appropriate to do the same for my hair. yes, there's always the likelihood it may find flame, but i like to think i live dangerously. so, i've embraced a daily devotion of letting my hair go free for at least the morning portion of the day. and like all things meg, even my hair has begun to imitate her true inspiration:

that's right. it's imogen heap! o hey girl. you're the best. i only wish my hair didn't look like yours, (sorry).

note to self: spend more time on taming your hair and NEVER by any circumstances apply fake trees to the top. no matter how badly you want. even if its halloween. and you're drunk. and your dressing as a tree. just don't do it.

3. we just started the renal and male GI portion of med school classes. it has been so miserable,
i've been tempted to hole myself up in my room, get really pale, and start listening to Amy Winehouse again. But i won't.

Why, if med school is such torture, how do i go on?

One reason.

Zibin.

Zibin Zhao is one of my former tank-mates. A tank is a group of 4 people that you spend countless hours with in the cadaver lab your first year of medical school, dissecting various parts of the human body. Zibin and I are tank mates 4 lyfe. let me tell you why:


(This is Zibin, wearing his infamous Reese's T shirt. What does it mean? I may never know. )

A couple of weeks ago Zibin told me that he had read my blog on The Cage Theory. I was so excited!

Meg: "Did you like it?!?!?!"
Zibin: "It was really long, kind of waste of time to read. And your prose is not too impressive".

See, Zibin will always tell you the truth, no matter what. This is why he's a true friend. He inspires me excel to higher places in life. so i thought i would dedicate this entry to his painful honesty, our friendship, and some of our best memories.

Dear Zibin,

remember that time i chased you around the cadaver lab, trying to get a peek at your tat under your scrub top? i hope you weren't too pissed at me. and thanks for showing me anyway.

hey, what about the time i accidentally sliced your finger with the fecally-contaminated scalpel during the pelvic floor dissection. thanks for being so cool about that, and letting me practice venipuncture on you, too.

there was also the day that Krista (another tank mate of ours) made you cookies. remember when she asked you how they were, and you said "crumbly". you're the best.

actually, the other day Krista and i were talking about you; here's how it went:
Krista: " I saw Zibs today"
Meg: " No WAY! what did he say?"
Krista: " not much, just hi. he gave me a hug!"
Meg: " HE LET YOU TOUCH HIM? SHUT UP!"
(Krista grins mischievously)

yes, this an actual conversation we had about you, Zibs. we adore you. the more you degrade us, the more we crave your presensce. and no matter how many times in life you call me a dunce, i'll just keep coming back for more. and if you ever let me study with you ever again, (sorry about what happened last time) i'll be overjoyed. kind of like you in this pic:



peace and joy to another day.

meg.

exam week

So, i haven't had a new post in a while. that's because it's exam week! yes, that's right, a whole week to study 300 pages of the same material over and over and over again. i will spend hours pouring over it, only to be able to vaguely describe in words the disorders i have learned about (mostly because i can't pronounce most of the words) . this module is hematology/oncology, so amidst the depression of learning about every type of leukemia and lymphoma you can possibly contract from birth to senescence, i've formulated a little post on success in exam week.

Figure 1: study spread


please note:

• random stacks of paper laid out in no particular configuration. do this to remind yourself how much you need to do and how little confidence you have in actually accomplishing it.
• pack of notecards you will eventually leave somewhere and never actually use. Example, i left my notecards on the stair master last week, hadn't even looked at them once.
  
• pens and highlighters of multiple colors and shades! because words like idiopathic, hepatosplenomegaly, insidious, and pancytopenia look so much better in rainbow!
• glass of milk alongside mug of coffee and cup of diet coke. occassionally drink milk or water so as to console yourself for the irreversible kidney damage you incur this week.
  
• iphone. because 3 hours of studying = 2 hours of flight control, facebook, who wants to be a millionaire, email, scrabble, youtube, and 1 hour of reading
• closed blinds. the outside world is too much to handle at this point. you are much safer holed up your room, library, or lab. medicine is all about isolation and ignorance of normal people and social skills.
  

Other Important Study Supplies:

Nutritional Meals

And if you are just a mere women like myself, you'll need some big, strong study partners to help you along in study stamina

And finally, for the peace and joy portion of the blog, i'll share with you rules of normal, socially acceptable life, that just don't apply during exam week! yay!

1. during exam week, it is always ok to unbutton the first button of your pants while sitting for extended periods. (especially if they are gap jeans, what the heck? why are they so high waisted?!?!?)

2. it is ok to eat taco bell.

3. it is ok to watch inappropriate you tube videos over and over again. favorites include old gregg, pearl the landlord, and various mean girls clips.

4. finally, it is ok to repeat various phrases you need to remember over and over again, in different accents. trust me, "myelophistic" is pronounced quite differently when said by borat, cesar the dog whisperer, and the candlestick guy from beauty and the beast.

peace and joy to you. here are some upcoming post subjects:

highlandettes, symmetrical face pictures, the life and times of zibin zhao, and ..............

elle might visit! get excited!

Sunday Mornin'

i used to be an avid journal-er. the peace of a place that only i knew brought great sanctity into my life. however, in the past year-or-so, places that only i know have transformed from a haven from the business of the world to a kind of alienating isolation. perhaps i've come to know my need for other peaceful souls along side me.

the following is a quote that i would write in my journal and store up for myself like a treasure in a barren land. perfect for when things got overwhelming. i realize now how non-sensical that actually is.

"The trouble with steeling yourself against the harshness of reality is that same steel that secures your life against being destroyed secures your life also against being opened up and transformed by the holy power that life itself comes from. You can survive on your own. You can grow strong on your own. You can even prevail on your own. But you cannot become human on your own".

thanks, frederick buechner. you are oh so wise.

my first attempt at blog-vulnerability. and still unsure of how i feel about it.

p.s. mad props to miss m.e. olmstead for both the introduction of mr. buechner to my life, and the banner photo of this beloved blog. oh, and for being a source of great peace.

The Cage Theory

Growing up, i was quite a strange child. while my classmates frolicked in the sand box, i spent hours pondering my peers as I fought to untangle this mystery that we call life. In fact, I continue such behaviors even to this day; you can find me most days staring out the windows of the library, reflecting on the people as they walk (or jog) by. One such mystery of life that i've spent countless brainstorm sessions deciphering is that of the male-female relationship.

You see, a couple of months ago i was hanging out with some friends when Toby Keith's "should have been a cowboy" came on the radio (o hey, texas). i'm not sure what that song is still doing on the radio, but ever since then, it seems to hum like a soundtrack in my mind whenever I interact with a male. this is the story of how toby and I came to reject the traditional "men are jerks women are perfect angels waiting for mr. right" model of relationships.

I'm pretty sure that over 75% of my life has been spent talking about boys with my girlfriends, whispering about boys with my girlfriends, singing aloud about boys with my girlfriends, or sitting in a room silently wondering about boys with my girlfriends. So basically, i'm an expert. I've come to understand that men, rather than the chronic ass-holes that most women perceive them to be, may just be misunderstood.


The Cage Theory (23 years in the making).

Hypothesis:

If they were allowed, most men would live a nomadic life, coming and going as they please; pursuing resources and treasures of unknown lands, while sustaining themselves from nature and surviving off their pure brute strength.

What I think of when I think of men in their most natural state:

or, in texas:

(cowboys and nomads; they're essentially the same thing)

And just for good measure and equal representation among the sexes:

What I think most men think of themselves:

So, somewhere along the way, over the past how-ever-many years that man and woman has inhabited the Earth (i'm not into history) women have found a way to transform the original nomadic/cowboy man into a pansy-ass 9-5'er who is forced to attempt to mind-read, emotionally nourish, and entertain the strangely appealing mystery that is the woman's psyche. I assert that this is not natural; actually, it may be down right contrary to all that is man.

You see, modern woman matured much faster than the archaic man (duh), and had to find a way to reform his nomadic ways to that of a more stationary, stable, or civilized lifestyle. She found that if she could get a man just close enough, she could cage him into commitment and rejection of his wandering ways.

Caging tactics include, but are not limited to: cooking, deep-frying, superfulous flesh-baring, artificial eye lashes, pretending to like sports, slutty Halloween outfits, and the ever popular "playing hard to get"

Shakira: at lease she's honest about her preferred caging style.

It is here that woman breaks the spirit of man, and that the false pretenses of relationship destroy the beauty of companionship.

A few pertinent examples or post-caging tragedies:

dating: "darling, i know last week i was super-hot, fun, and flirty; but i'm actually just as crazy, obsessive, and emotionally unstable as your last girlfriend. welcome to this relationship!"

CAGE formed, too late for escape.

marriage: "darling, lets decorate the enormous bed of our huge suburban style cage with 50 scratchy and non-machine washable pillows! try not to touch them outside of the 30 minutes you spend removing and replacing them each day."

children: "darling, why don't you strap the baby onto the front of your chest with this strange (toffee-brown version) multi-strap contraption while you take out the trash of smelly diapers?" (this one needs a picture)

CAGED (for at least 18 more years)

the list goes on......

the point is that often times, in current society, women expect of men that which is both unnatural and completely unrealistic. so much emphasis has been placed on the insensitivity of the male, than many have forgotten the true nature of his being.

don't get me wrong, i'm not hating on women. we all know men suck at relationships, too. but let's be honest, women, do you understand what you're doing? i can stay silent no longer.

I know what you're thinking, "hey meg, i thought that this blog was all about joy and peace. what's the deal?" well, here she comes.

shortly after the early development of the cage theory, i had the opportunity to share my theory with an actual man! andy mac:

Andy mac during one of his brilliant brain storming sessions on the floor of the library.

He enlightened me; "Meg, it all depends on who is doing the caging. What if the cage was more of a structure".

And Andy mac was sooo right. What if we all tried to understand where the other person was coming from, instead of pursuing our own selfish desires? compassion transforms cage to structure.

Life lesson:

Women: do you understand now why your man has trouble verbally communicating?!?! Give him a break, he's still many evolutionary years behind you! but don't lose hope, he'll catch up, he may just need some help along the way.

Men: With great freedom comes great responsibility. Now that your woman may understand more about your true colors, you are not precluded from proper hygiene, social skills, or fidelity.

Are you unhappy about your cage? Tear it down and build a gender equality structure. some prefer a house in the suburbs (barf), while others go for the Manhattan loft (yes, please). Either way, a little understanding on the sides of both sexes will take us all a long way.

My first post

In typical Meg fashion, I've spent the majority of the past two days perfecting the aesthetics of this blog. I am so excited about it, I quite literally may throw up. So here it is, my first post! For those of you who weren't harassed all day for advice on what to call it and more importantly, what color scheme to use, I thought I might update you on my first blog's origins.

First: the web address: haironfiyah.blogspot.com

well. this was a no-brainer. mostly because i didn't think of it. my most beautiful and creative girl kaili elaine is the title author. she appropriately chose this title, as for the second time in my short life, i set my hair on fire this past weekend. yes, it's true. for the second time in my life.

first time: 21st birthday. birthday candles atop home-made carrot cake with cream cheese icing. total disaster.

see photo post incident:


pretending i'm not mad.

proof i suffer from PTSD of flammable locks, i stay at least 5 feet away from all cakes.


Little did I know that the innocently alluring votive candles of Luna Lounge could ignite yet another combustion within my oh so unruly coiffure. luckily, i am an experienced veteran of hair fire extinguishing and no one was injured by the unfortunate incident.

nevertheless, such a learning experience should not be forgotten and is hence immortalized by this slightly odd web address.

Second: Title: Not now, but soon

For those of you who don't know her, Imogen Heap is a slightly odd yet brilliant musician who wrote a song entitled "Not now, but soon", that is now that title of my blog! Here is a video of her explaining what it's all about:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GznqJmbrH9Q

Basically she incorporated audio clips of her childhood home's reconstruction into a song she wrote about waiting life out. All i have to say is, "you go girl".

Not now, but soon, in true Imogen style, will embrace the idea that life is a constant reconstruction, and that embracing the complexity of our messy lives will bring not only renovation, but also beauty to our lives and those around us.

I hope you enjoy my musings on life, med school, relationships, and the responsibility of owning both a fort and a bedazzler.