Ode to an Imprisoned Hand

For those of you who don't have the pleasure of running into me on a daily basis, this is the look I've been rockin' of late...

(From top)

(A little flash..I'm a diva I needed a couple angles)

Yep, this has been the look in fractured couture for approximately two weeks. Today, after my 2 hour scheduled appointment, (I'm sorry make that 3 minute appointment, 117 minute recreational period in various waiting rooms) at the Incompetence Hand Center of Philadelphia, I learned the sad fate that my little hand would be imprisoned until my next two week check-up on February 21st  (I know what you're thinking, uhh 2 weeks from now is the 14th, not the 21st?!...Well the receptionist seems to think there are 10.5 days in a week ...seriously, I have a mound of issues with these people).

Now that I have learned my fate, or my hand has for that matter, I'll spill what I am really looking forward to in three "two" weeks:

Getting Rid of the Gym Sock:  If you can tell from the pictures, this splint is artfully crafted. It is made up of one "nude" sock (doesn't it really look JUST like skin?) with the toes cut off, and some sort of plaster-velcro contraption that makes me feel like it's morphin' time. Thankfully my splint hasn't interrupted my running schedule, but it does get quite toasty under there and has given a whole new meaning to the term "gym sock"...

Ponytails: Now that the swelling has gone down and I've learned how to cheat  a bit and fanangle this thing, ponytails have made a slight improvement. But let me tell you, it was touch and go for awhile. I was almost that girl with my sweaty hair flailing about at the gym (which probably would have cause another injury). If you ever have some downtime (don't kid yourselves, I know you're all wondering), try attempting the art of the one-handed ponytail... YEAH


Typing: Laptops, I've mastered. Keyboards are more of a struggle. Imagine if you can having an orthopedic shoe attached to your hand at all times. On top of having to adapt to what I like to call the "hovering hand" (the left hand dangles over the keyboard perpendicular to the keys so as not to hit all sorts of various buttons with my wrist muzzle), I am sure I have scared many of the undergrads in my office suite with my choice words of frustration. 


Double Fisting: Need I say more..?

Until then....

An EX-tremely Unnatural Experience

You may think this is a little early, for some of you having just met me, but I am going to take this opportunity to open up.. DAH, DAH, DAHHHHHHHHHHHH. The dreaded... ex-files. 

I don't know about you guys, but this isn't the way my relationship with my exes looks (ok, bad example I know, they got back together had a baby the whole shibang). But for a few seasons we saw Ross and Rachel hangin' out at Central Perk like nothing happened. Is this what a healthy post-relationship relationship looks like?


I guess my inspiration for this post comes from a few places. When relationships end, especially when its amicable, the one promise a lot of ex-couples try to make is "lets still be friends." And believe me, I was the biggest proponent of this theory. Logically, if two people break up due to circumstance, distance, not being in the right place at the right time, then no one did anything wrong, right? You are still the same people... why cut someone out of your life completely? After much reflection, and two very different ex-periences, I have come to the conclusion that being around an ex is just... well... unnatural.


Let me point out here that I think there is a distinction between unnatural and uncomfortable. I would say that when I run into exes I am comfortable. Comfortable enough to ask about how things are going, learn more about job searches, extend  polite inquiries into the very general mundane details of their lives. But being around an ex on a semi-constant basis, is to me, very unnatural. Maybe I have just never had the pleasure of being in a Ross & Rachel relationship, where you can shoot the shit with an ex like they didn't lie, walk all over you, break your heart nothing happened. Its like, hello, uhhh elephant in the room...


Like I said, for me two distinct experiences come to mind. One, where ex-A is currently living in Philadelphia and is best friends with MY best friend. I wouldn't say we see each other on a "regular" basis, but general social outings with common groups of friends. Originally I had longed to be friends, thought if I didn't I'd lose him forever. But now, its forced at best. I still appreciate who he is, and always wish him the best. But it turns out what I wanted all along, isn't what I needed. My relationship with ex-B was, a long, drawn out, emotional, dramatic saga of whatever we were. He wanted desperately to be friends once we decided things just weren't working out for good. Reasonable request right? On paper.. maybe. But the phone calls, the text messages, the "I miss yous" were just too much. I just wasn't into it. The line between friendship and relationship hadn't truly been deciphered, and trying to find it was too exhausting.

For my relationships with relationships of Christmas Past, this notion of unnatural-ity comes back. Now don't get me wrong. I am lucky enough to be in a new relationship. A HEALTHY relationship. I'm in love. In love with a guy who would lay down in traffic for me. With the person I want to be with forever. And I know that all the shit hiccups I have gone through made him possible.  He is a product of my less than perfect past, and for that I couldn't be more thankful. But for me, being face-to-face with an ex always (at least thus far) brings back feelings that no one would voluntarily want to face on a semi-regular basis; insecurities, guilt, inadequacy, failure. Why couldn't I do it? What did I do wrong? Why wasn't I good enough? Coming face to face with an ex is like looking into a mirror at who you USED to be. And I don't know about you, but I often times don't like the view.. 


So I extend this question to you. Is a relationship with an ex unnatural, or do I just have it all wrong?

My Strange Addiction

Please tell me that someone else out there has had the viewing pleasure of watching TLC's new show, My Strange Addiction? It's out of control, I do not know where they find these hot messes but if TLC keeps this up I may have to knock something out of my tight TV rotation so I can become a more regular viewer. Anyways, a show like this naturally gets you thinking about your own addictions imperfections (I know what you're thinking... but Meghan, I thought your only imperfection was not having any imperfections)...Truth is, I have been struggling with my own strange addiction for sometime now. Drum roll please...

Ok so, strange, maybe not, but I have a late night pizza ADDICTION and to make matters worse it is usually ingested under the influence (PUI, pizza under the influence). Today as I awoke extremely hungover dehydrated, I knew what I would have to face when I walked into my living room. That stupid white paper plate, caked and coated with the remains of a battle I had once again lost.. and let me tell you, by the look of things it was bloody.

Lets take this back a step. To me, diet is a four letter word. If I had the willpower time I would work out 8 hours a day if it meant I got to eat whatever I wanted. Unfortunately, I've been told diet and exercise go hand in hand. I get it, you can't survive on a diet of Bud Light, Wendy's and grilled cheese sandwiches (although I think that's what heaven is like..). I mean don't get me wrong, I'm pretty proud of my eating habits (minus my strange addiction). I cook for myself 6 days a week, pack my lunch and, dare I say, even enjoy vegetables. Things could be a lot worse.That being said, I have also never been one to deprive myself. I do not know how people do it. Just NOT EAT things they love.  But sadly, my addiction keeps creeping into my life...

The late night pizza became a staple around, oh I don't know, Day 1 of college. Whether I knew it or not, I was enrolled in Pizza 101.  Things got really bad around the time Domino's introduced the infamous, 5-5-5 deal. Oh. My. Pizza. I mean, come on, it's a DEAL! And that was typically the sales pitch I used to convince most people that 3 pizzas was better than 1 pizza at 3 am on a Saturday. One time, I almost ate a whole pizza to mah-self. Impressive, yes, felt good in the morning? Negative. Another time, a friend and I got 2 late night slices to share. When she was on the phone in another room, I ate BOTH. It's like I blacked out, had the blood on my hands and didn't remember how I got there. Conveniently, I never remembered that feeling the next time I was tempted--guilt, regret, severe discomfort. Me and late night pizza were in a relationship and things were moving pretty fast...

Let's fast forward 4 years, and enough zas to feed a third world country, to present day. Late night pizza and I cooled things down over the summer, so I thought I was in good shape. Shortly after moving into my new apartment I realized the MESS I had gotten myself into. Holy. Shit. Could I break my lease? Was there any going back? How do I even begin to right this incredible wrong? How had I NOT noticed..pizza by the slice, 2 store fronts down, open until 5am (uh yeah...I'm looking at you 13th St. Pizza). I was able to resist for awhile, but I found myself more consistently waking up with that "why did I do that" feeling in the morning. At first it was your typical cheese, then I got into the hard stuff; chicken, bacon, ranch pizza, mac & cheese pizza, even BAKED POTATO PIZZA!! 

So...where does one go from here? Someone's got to intervene, because I am about one slice away from shaving my head, rockin' some Keds, looking a hot mess and attacking a paparazzo with an umbrella...

What's In A Name?

What's in a name? Well... a lot actually. Last night when I finally decided to make this glimmer of a thought a reality, the first question asked is "name of your blog." Hmmm.. guess I hadn't really gotten that far. I tried to be funny, (how about Philadelphia Phabulous.. ew puke) I tried to be serious (Life As I Know It...pretty sure that's a TV show), I tried to be quirky (Adventures of A New Life, Girl, Chapter, New Adventures of Old Christine). Gahhh why was this so challenging? Basically it was 45 minutes of a half assed attempt to pick a name that would impress Carrie Bradshaw & Co. Why couldn't I think of anything?! If my writers block was starting this early I was in serious trouble... 

I tried to think about what I'd be writing about; me, my life and as it says "everything in between." One part comedy, one part drama, one part satire, one part over analyzed bull shit. I came up with the working title of "Am I There Yet?" with the intentions of changing it, but as I began writing I realized how much it resonated with me, and hopefully you, my loyal followers. 


I know what you're thinking, "Am I There Yet?", is this some sort of artsy, emo, Dashboard Confessional way of expressing yourself that I should be familiar with? Because it's totally not on my playlist... Who knows, maybe I can be their inspiration, but for the time being it's about me. My life is, and has been for as long as I can remember, one big countdown. I guess it all starts around high school. Counting down until senior year, counting down until college, counting down until mid terms, counting down until spring break, then as excited as you were to enter college, counting down until you can leave. Well guess what--my life isn't that much different now. As exciting as it was to begin a new graduate program, I'm one semester down, locked into school until I'm 24 and the new countdown is, welp, 1 semester down, 3 to go. My long distance  relationship (we'll get into that later) has been a constant countdown--to holidays, to him coming here, to me gong there (5 weeks in case anyone is interested), to him getting out of the god damn Navy and us starting a real life together. One. Big. FAT. Countdown. Which led me to wonder, when does it stop? When am I finally... THERE. And more importantly, how will I know?

I get flashbacks of trudging down my steps on Monday mornings getting ready for school telling my parents how much I can't wait until it's Friday. I'll always remember what my Dad told me every single time I said this; "Don't wish your days away!" I got it, but he clearly didn't understand how important it was for me to get to the weekend so I could sit in my friend's basement and eat brownie mix, watch bad TV and occasionally split a 6 pack of Natty Light between three of us. Parents...

Now as I've gotten a little older wiser, I realize what he was talking about. It's not about the countdown, its about stepping outside and taking in the slushy streets of Philadelphia and enjoying the view. Stop rushing!! This blog is an attempt to take in a lot more of my life, and not keep asking "Am I There Yet?", because at the rate I'm going there is always going to be something else. But isn't that part of the fun? If you choose to share it with me I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. But I'm warning you, if I know you---you're going to end up here. I am going to be the Taylor Swift of blogging.


To round this out I want to tell everyone thank you. I cannot believe the great feedback I've received thus far after what you may not believe was a gigantic step to even put this up last night.. I posted before going to bed, contemplated letting my boyfriend and a few other people read it before it went up for good, because after that there was no turning back. But I figured what the hell--I was so nervous last night I couldn't fall asleep (which may or may not have been the 2-3 Diet Cokes I had but let's be honest I'm pretty much immune to those by now). Anyways.. keep the feedback coming, hope you enjoying helping me figure out when we're finally "there."

Introductions are Awkward

Let's face it--introductions are awkward. I'd go through the ABCs of introducting myself, but chances are if you're here you already have some idea. And if you don't... well I guess you'll find out along the way. 

I'll tell you a little bit about why I'm here. I guess you can call starting this blog up a bit of a long overdue New Years resolution, although I cringe using that phrase. I promise that unlike a resolution, this will last well past February or March. I've always enjoyed writing, but it's always been work. Writing for papers, writing for proposals, writing for work, writing for things I could care less about--this, coupled with weekends spent sleeping in and watching obscene amounts of reality TV has left very little time for writing for pleasure (no really, it exists).

I promised myself when I studied abroad I would start a blog to document all the amazing things I was doing, people I was meeting and places I was seeing. Well, that was the spring of 2009. I guess I was too busy studying... 

I recently moved to a new city, convinced myself to stay in school 2 more years, began a new job, am living alone for the first time while in the midst of a cross-country relationship. This is the stuff reality shows blogs are made of.

So here it goes. You've gotten here, which is half the battle. If you stick with me I promise to give you a glimpse into this crazy life that I know as my own; if nothing else I'm sure you'll be entertained and who knows, maybe even enlightened. Stay tuned...