i got a phone call yesterday informing me of some changes going on on the other wide of the world. some changes that involve my family. this phone call has me feeling that i am supposed to say 'yes' once again to what God is asking me to do. and today 'yes' is a much harder word to say than 'no'.
i'm overwhelmed. i'm scared. it would force me to rely completely on my faith. and it wouldn't just be changing my life, it would be changing 6.
i can't think of anything more important that i could do with my time on earth, but i'm finding that importance can be a heavy load to carry. i promise to share more as soon as i can. until then, if you're the praying kind would you mind throwing a few up for the 6 of us?
welcome to the second installment of "i can't make this s*#t up". you first met this series here and, i'm certain, have been eagerly awaiting it's follow up. i know i have (heavy sarcasm, like super heavy).
girl goes to the beach. she's standing in perfect 90 degree weather. the kind of 90 degree weather where there is just the right amount of breeze. a giant yellow sun is hanging directly overhead in the sky against a bold blue backdrop. calm waves are rocking her back and forth and she stands in the waist high water, letting her toes sink in to the buttery white sand beneath. there are children laughing off in the distance. the girl is thanking her lucky stars for a day so amazing and wondering if she can capture the moment's perfectness (it's a word if i want it to be one) in a voice memo, sell it to apple, have it become the world's best selling sound machine app, make millions, retire to this very same spot and live in this perfectness (see how well that works there?) forever.
sounds pretty nice, right?
it came from out of nowhere (this is also what i told my parents in regards to the other cars involved in a series of fender benders that i caused in high school). all i really remember of the giant kelly slater worthy wave that is to blame for this story is how hard it hit me upside the head. it slapped me. ike turner style. as i regained my balance, composure, and grip on the sunglasses that were nearly knocked off of my face i couldn't help but notice that something felt different. i was in the presence of a freedom that wasn't there before that wave and i met. and then, there it was. the startling realization that my right... ahem... chest biscuit had popped out of it's home in my single strap bathing suit top and decided, without my permission, to introduce itself to watercolor beach. yep. let that sink in for a second. right chest biscuit. open air. public and nude un-friendly beach. for about 4 and half minutes (megan time, real time was more like 3 seconds). it is not necessarily of importance to note that after a couple of days in the sun my newly formed tan lines really emphasized my glowing white and free flying chest biscuit, but it really does add nice detail to the story... don't you think? oh yeah. so hot.
"so, did everyone on the beach see????" you ask, mortified for me yet again. nope. better. well, better for the story anyway. my sole spectator was a roughly 12 year old boy who is going to have to get his jaw wired shut after how hard it hit the sand. his mouth was open so wide that i'm pretty sure i saw his tonsils. i rapidly reassembled myself, gave him a little 'i'm sorry but you're kind of welcome' wave and high tailed it outta there before he could point out to his parents who it was that just showed him his first mammary gland in the wild.
anyone have a contact in J.Crew's swimsuit customer support... er, lack of support? holla at a girl.
i woke up this morning to a biscuit. slathered in butter. that i didn't have to cook. on a paper plate that i can throw away and don't have to wash. things are looking up.
today i am grateful for the responsibility given to me. i am grateful for it no matter how heavy it may be because it means that i am carrying something important. i wanted a life that mattered and i got one. and i am thankful for it. the end.
i didn't get to skype with g&g today because the orphanage didn't have an internet connection. that means i'm at three whole weeks of not seeing or speaking to the babies. that also means that by the time next tuesday rolls around it will have been a solid month since we have skyped. not cool, orphanage. not cool.
i had a mini meltdown this afternoon. instead of being grateful for all of the times that a third world country has had an internet connection that's allowed me to see my kiddos i pouted over the small handful of times that they didn't. instead of being grateful that i will be on a plane to see the twins three weeks from tomorrow i teared up over a mom that was picking out a book with her daughter in a bookstore. instead of giving myself a pep talk that included phrases like "pull it together, soldier!" and "that kid was bratty you wouldn't want them anyway" i leaned against a shelf in the history section, where i obviously stood the best chance of not being seen by another human being because history books are b-o-r-i-n-g and very few people want to read them much less buy them, and cried.
it wasn't my finest moment. it wasn't the best i've felt in awhile. it didn't make me proud of myself.
but it was honest. and i needed to let it out.
so here goes...
today i am sick of looking at families with their kids and i'm sick of feeling the responsibility to either help raise $35,000 or feel the burden of 96 kids again being without a home or family (can't even begin to talk about this one today, will get to this nasty road block tomorrow) and i'm sick of not being able to buy my kids anything because i don't know if they'll be too old to play that certain game or read that certain book by the time they are officially mine and i'm sick of this new important life and miss my old selfish one and i really really really miss shopping and spending silly amounts of money on myself and my closet and my god i need a pedicure before the bottoms of my feet scrape through my flip flops and i'm sick and damn tired of being the kind of girl who just cries in bookstores at the beach. (oh yeah, at the beach. because only i could stand in the middle of paradise and whine about my life being so rough)
i, seeking sympathy, texted an adoptive mom-in-waiting friend of mine who told me that yesterday at 1:30pm she ordered a whole papa john's pizza, answered the door in her robe, and devoured it in bed by herself.
it made me feel better. and jealous. but mostly better. but i love pizza. but better...
days like today are exactly why we shouldn't judge people by single encounters with or stories about them (right? please say yes and cue the full house danny tanner 27 minutes into the episode hug music).
today is june 12th and i am just now catching my breath from may. that lil' month had me traveling all over the country this year and i loved every minute of it.
what: key west songwriter's festival
why: because we songwriters have really hard jobs and need to get away every now and then (lie)
what really happened: i played a one hour show during the course of a 5 day vacation
what: mother's day
why: because it was my first (sort of) one
what really happened: ol' fashioned southern overeating
what: asheville, north carolina writer's retreat
why: because i have reeeaaaaally generous friends
what really happened: guitar time, wine, food, wine, great songs, wine, wine wine wine
what: southern california
why: my boyfriend booked one of his artists at the ranch and YOU MUST GO THERE ONE DAY
what really happened: country music in california, two stepping, one of the best meals of my life that sent my inner fat kid to foodie heaven, new friends, a much too short visit with an old friend, brunch on the beach, and even more wine than north carolina
the in between: surprise wedding fun, ascap at night, mister darlin snuggle, bgv's at rachel loy's cd release party, jameson ep release also known as the most fun ever.