Thursday, April 05, 2007

Hoo-Rah! It's my Blogiversary!!

Ok, so I just made horrible montages of pictures of me from 1980 to the present. But I think I've decided that they are better saved for my 30th birthday, which is in a scant two months, and will be, more properly, a celebration of the 30 humiliating years of my life.

But, Fear Not. I will, today, provide you with evidence of the child prodigy who would later create this blog. Or else I will post some really, really embarrassing poetry from when I was 17.


However, first, some thanks to those of you who have kept me blogging, lo these 12 long months. Thanks first to my MFA peeps, who got me started on this thing and who keep reading, even when I am a slack-ass fool: Cue, Pen and M, Kim, Tom, Ashley, HAT, Duck, Growler, Eli, and Daisy. And thanks to the real-life blogging friends I've picked up along the way: Slater and JoshUA, that's you.

Huge, mindblowing, fireworks-like thanks to Velocibadgergirl, Gina, Lauren and Amanda, who read even though they don't know me from Adam. That makes all the difference in the world.

Whew! That was a lot of linkage. Thanks to my lurkers, who I know are out there but who never say hi and please feel free to chime in anytime. I know you will want to berate me for what I'm about to share with you.

Early works of literary genius (elementary school):
All punctuation and spelling left intact.

City and Onion (essay)

A city and an onion are alike because they probobly manufacture smelly pens and an onion smells. They are also alike because there is alot of traffic and when someone is run over everyone cries and when you peel onions you crie. There are citys of all sises and onions of all sises. Onions can be a reddish color and some signs in a city can be a reddish color. When onions are cut they can be stringy and maybe Italian people live in a city and eat spagetti.

Journal Entries

Today we were putting soup on my dog's food but it had jelled. I showed it to her and she backed away like it was an enemy. She sniffed it and ate up the jelled soup. Yuck!
***
In four days are chicks will hach. I cant wait!
***
Some chicks hached! They were supesd to hactch tomoro. I was surprised.
***
There are 4 more pages in my journal. I am excited!

A Story About One Time I Got Very Angry

When I lose my temper I end up huring sombody (probuly my sister).Once I was swinging on my swing, I was playing Traffic Jam. After you crash 3 times you get to swing and I did not even hit her one time and she said it was time for her turn. I felt like punching her. I walked away.

Surrender Pretender (poem) (interesting that I'm already employing line-breaks)

Surrender Pretender
I know you remember
that I'm not your maid I'm
your mother.
So do not shout and pout and shout,
or shouting back will wear my
voice out;
And how great it will be
when you Social Studee
and find out that
the world is free of slavery.
But 'till then I say--
Surrender Pretender!

Further staggering works (Middle School):

Poem

Its night and I am terified
I see a ghost that is 3 eyed
Help Help it is a scary sight
Oh no Oh no where is the
light?
My mom is coming what does
she want or is it another
ghostly haunt?
I'm very scared, worried,
confused.
Maybe the lights are all
defused.
I think I will lay and make
myself flat.
What!!--that ghost is only
my hat.

Journal Entry (apparent exercise in stream-of-conciousness)

We are now going on vacation. We will be in the car 6-7 hours. Yuck. We are at Ms. Jones house to give her the silver and the mink. Ali if you are reading this quit it. I am bringing Bomby his new baby and 2 of his old babys and Bop. I can't wait 'till school starts. I've gotten all new school stuff I'm glad. Mommy and Daddy just started the car. Im going to quit writing now We are in Penna. I can't wait till we get there. I just had a cheeseburger, chips and fries. I got to hear turn the radio up for that sweet sound. I adore that song. We were at Granma's for 10 minutes. We are not staying here we are going 2 tawanda I adore that name. The place was the pits. Mommy is laughing her head off. Now we are going to find something to eat. My favorite book is Anne of green gables. It is so, so good. Hi!! I don't know why I wrote hi. The dog is panting loudly. I miss Julie.

Diary Entries

Dear Diary,

I have had a fun day but I have a ton of homework. Poor Christy Mr. Patti called her sir. She doesn't look like a boy that much. Gosh.

Meg Wittig

Dear Diary,

Little Raven is sososososososososoossoossoosososos CUTE. He has a tantalizing smile. He is in my English class.

Meg

Heart (an unfinished story)

"Once upon a time" nope to fairy talish for this romance.

Love at its best remains undisturbed until the right circumstances take place. It is like Melissa and Steve. They knew each other since Mel was in third and Steve was in fourth grade. Mel is turned on by polite guys. This one seemed pretty polite--but nothing serious happened then. Years went by before they really thought 4 a minute about each other.
At the end of 4the grade, Mel decided that she liked Steve. I mean, just as a cute guy. But then it happened!!!

3 Way Tie, or Triple Knot (story with pictures!!)

Diary--
Danni, I saw him today.
--Eva

DIARY--
CUTE BOY ALERT
--RITA

Rita and Eva, picture perfect best friends. You could never separate them. They did everything together. They sang, danced, spent weekends and nights together the even rode their ten speeds together. Rita and Eva normally shared even their opinions. They used each other as motivation for things. They agreed on everything untill one subject--who got Danni.
It was a never ending argument causing hatred and hurt feelings. But it was Danni who had the problem. I'll show you what it was.



Yes Danni's problem was choosing. Two beautiful girls they adored him and they were his for the taking but whitch one-wich one should he pick.
"He likes me better" shouted Rita. "He does not he adores me and Im prettyer" said eva.
...
Mean while Danni was pondering over he problem Brains or looks brains or looks.



All right. Here's the part I've been really dreading. High school poetry. Feel the angst, baby. (All poems here were written following the same breakup. Thanks, Matthew!)

Stages

In the first few moments
there is nothing but stunned
disbelief;

It slowly fades into a sort of
endless agony
as one ponders the ramifications
of such an event;

People make light of it,
thinking that they are helping you
in some way,
Cheer up! Calm down!
(yeahmakeupyourmind)

And in the end it is acceptance.
The pain doesn't die, you just
become tolerant of it.
You live through it.
And you are never the same.


Lonely Time

There is a time, each day
Between seven and nine.
When living becomes a struggle...
When each breath seems to catch
in my throat.
When each tear seems to travel a mile before
dropping,
silently,
from the tip of my nose.
When my hands reach upward,
outward,
and find no one.
when it is too late
and too early
at the same time.


Immortality

And I can just recall
loving you on that 10 hour trip
Wishing almost, that the car
would
spin out
and crush our fragile mortality
crush my female belief that
love is forever
before we fell out of it
(You fell out of it)

Silence

I once knew a girl whose jet black hair provided her wiht a shield from the world, but not really. She loved with a ferocity that frightened the others, but she did not trust. To trust is to hand people the instrument with which to beat you, she reasoned. And so her love was silent, but not really. I once knew a boy, wholehearted in his belief that he could not love, but not really. He said that he watched his life from afar. I do not understand love, he reasoned, and I cannot accept what I do not understand. And so, he shunned feeling, but not always. And when they met, it was like a silence breaking. And when they kissed their carefully built walls came tumbling down. I love you she said, you have set me free. But in his mind he doubted, do I love? He questioned: What is love? And so he retreated, leaving her lost and without trust.



OH MY GOD, have you had enough? Can you even believe that I have a degree in Creative Writing? Can you believe I didn't beat up that guy? Aren't you glad you read the ramblings of the mind that produced all that?

11 comments:

Andrea Q. said...

"She doesn't look like a boy that much. Gosh."

HAHAHAHAHAHA. Omg. No matter what I do, I keep hearing that in the voice of Napoleon Dynamite. Best. Stuff. Ever.

Gina said...

Happy Blogiversary!

velocibadgergirl said...

Happy Blogiversary!! I'm so glad I found your blog!

Amanda said...

happy blogiversary!

also, i would never have the nerve to share my childhood writing, so props to you. =)

hat said...

"She loved with a ferocity that frightened the others, but she did not trust."

I am in awe, Megs. Absolutely in awe. The stunning creativity that has been with you all this time manifests in both prose AND poetry.

Megs said...

Now, be nice.

ashley said...

Happy Blogiversary! I love that you wanted to punch your sister but walked away. Classic. And I'm with Andrea - She doesn't look that much like a boy. Haha! Keep bringing the incredible edible greatness!

undeadgoat said...

Isn't finding childhood writing, umm . . . neat?

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