Passion

I want to make running my new passion.

I know, I know, I can't make anything my passion, but if I do it enough, I'll start to enjoy it and then I'll be passionate about it. Running is something that belongs to me. My other passions in this world belong to someone else, besides writing. I love music and I love sports, but they are someone else's passion that I have become infatuated with. Running and writing belong to me, no one else but me.

Running clears your mind, and you just let go of all your thoughts and pay attention to the rhythmic pounding of your feet on the pavement.

That's all, for now.

THREE MOTHER FUCKING DAYS.

xoxo,
megan.

I'll be undressing you with every word....

I wrote All Time Low a letter today. It was for my own self, since I'm sure I'll never have the courage to give it to them. It revealed things a little to personal, so I wouldn't want to leave that as my lasting impression on one of my favorite bands. I'd give a letter like that to Green Day, because they have had such a profound affect on my life, plus I've been a fan for a while and my fandom is tried & true.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not doubting my fandom for All Time Low, just saying that Green Day has always been there and always will be.

Pretty much, in the writing of the letter, I broke down. I'm a wreck, but I pick up the pieces every day and fix myself. I hate hate hate myself. This isn't a pity statement, because no one's reading this but me. I really do hate myself. I hate the way I look, and I hate the way I act. I hate the way I feel like I have to fight to keep a conversation alive, aside from a few people. I question myself all the time, and I feel like no matter what I do, I'll never fit in. I'm an outcast in my own mind, and if I can't even be the star of my own reality, who's reality can I star in?

I have a grand total of two friends. I know, popular girl. No guys fall at my feet; I'm ugly as hell and my personality matches, so I can see why. I really do hate myself. I feel bad, because I know that God created me and I should be happy with myself, but I'm not. You may not realize it if you're just talking to me, but I know it. I've lost the sparkle in my eyes. I used to la la love my eyes, but now I can barely look myself in the eyes. I disgust myself, can't see why I wouldn't disgust someone else.

I miss the old me, the one that didn't give a damn what other people thought...well, that still is me. I don't care what most other people say, but it does matter that I can't shove that voice to the back of my head, the one critiquing my every move - and that voice doesn't belong to anyone else.

It belongs to me.

And I need to stop that, but I don't know how. Someone save me? I can't rely on one comment from James Matthew Flyzik forever.

for now,
Megan.

"Medically speaking, you're adorable."
-"Risque" - Cute Is What We Aim For

I got Flyzik's shirt today, but it wasn't Gagne, it was Richards. Hope he likes it :-) Four days till I can give it to him, which means FOUR DAYS TILL WARPED TOUR.
I am seriously so impatient. This day alone felt like four. At least I have something to distract me - I have to run and I'm hanging out with Caitlin two days before Warped.
The day before - that's going to kill. It's my dad's birthday, but I won't be seeing him at all. Hope I can find something to distract.

I'm still smiling because of yesterday. Matt Flyzik, I am forever indebted to you - hope that debt is paid off by the shirt though ;-) The shirt is a kid's XL, but I think it will fit him. He's a stick, plus he wears tight shirts. I bought an Eagles drawstring bag for Warped, so maybe Matt will say something about that ;-) I'm showing it to the dudes from FTSK, and if need be, I will get in an argument with them about football. I would NOT mind. Tony Romo can't win a playoff game anyways, stop blaming it on his girlfriends.

I'm done, I have nothing to say.

xoxo,
megan.

best day of my life?

If not, it's pretty damn close.
I think the day that the Flyers won in OT against the Caps and the day the Phillies clinched the NL East outweigh this, but still.
Why was my day so great, you might ask?
James Matthew Flyzik, tour manager for All Time Low, commented me today :-)
Most famous person to ever comment me :-)

I'm watching the ESPY's right now, and Eli Manning looks so sexy. So does David Beckham...loved them forever, especially Eli. David has a great smile.

Anyway, I'm bored out of my mind.

The Phillies need to start scoring runs for Cole Hamels. This man lets up two runs, and they can't score for him. Ridiculous. You have Ryan Howard, NL RBI leader, and major league HR leader, and in the last three games, you've scored eleven runs combined. Absolutely ridiculous. You've gotten quality pitching, and can't make good on it.

Whatever, I'm done being mad. I'll just keep reading Flyzik's comment :-)

oh and five days till warped, six till photo day; and seven until phils with joe <3

xoxo,
megan.

I'm so excited!

I'm ridiculously excited for next week. I have like 3948934 good things happening. First off, my mom is finally switching my phone to the line with free texting! I start running on Monday for field hockey season, which is a blessing in disguise, I guess. Wednesday, I'm hanging out with Caitlin, who I haven't seen in FOREVER. Thursday, I need to find out what's going on. Friday is WARPED TOURRR with my best frandd. I'll give a list of who I'm going to see after this whole thing. Saturday, I'm going to the Phillies with my dad, stepmom, and their two friends for daddy's birthday <3

Here's who I'm going to see at Warped (order of need):
Forever the Sickest Kids
All Time Low
Cobra Starship
We The Kings
Story Of The Year

And here's who I'll check out if I have the time:
Say Anything, Relient K, Every Avenue, Katy Perry, Danger Radio, and the Audition.

July 25th, come faster?

xoxo,
megan

Well whuddddup?

Haven't updated since hockey season. someone's pounding on the door right now...i don't want to check who it is...i'm home alone. and kind of scared.

so i wrote this thing last night;
and it's entirely true.

sometimes i want to scream. sometimes i want to cry. sometimes i just want to laugh and smile.
it's perfectly normal to feel a wide range of emotions, right?
is it normal if you feel this wide range on a daily basis?

the answer is, i have no clue. i mean, i guess it is. as long as you don't go from one extreme to the other at the drop of a hat, right?

well the scary thing is, i do.

anyways, enough about my moodiness.

and people hate me. people are always going to hate me. i might as well get used to it. every mom will say 'well it's their loss'. well, i guess it is, but it's also mine too. mine because someone hates me, and theirs because they don't know the real me.

how am i so confident they don't know the real me?
because no one does. even if you put together the pieces i've given away to people, you won't complete the puzzle that is me.

xoxo,
megan

Wow

I just realized;
I have a type. That I like, I mean.
But I actually have types.
But the types are at opposite ends of the spectrum.

First off, let it be no secret, I love athletes. They are so gorgeous to me, not even because of their looks or nicee bodies, but they are driven to succeed, and I can relate to them. To them, it's winning it all, or losing everything. No in-betweens. There are no off days when you're an athlete, through and through. During your sports season, all you live and breathe is that sport. And I can relate. I love athletes for their determination.
for real.

Then, I go for the nerdy-but-cute-in-an-awkward way kinda guys. Guys like Chris Carrabba, from Dashboard Confessional. Or "superman". A real-life Seth Cohen, if you will. I love them, for real. Musicians mostly fit this type. They also appeal to me for their passion. When you watch someone play guitar that really loves to play, look at their face. Their eyes are most likely closed, their tounge probably peaking through their mouth. That shows their passion. I love to watch that. I really do.

Oh, and now my dream guy, he's my Jake Ryan. Sixteen Candles reference right there. Jake Ryan is the big-man on campus, the one every girl dies for. He has the head-cheerleader girlfriend, and the perfect body to boot. He drives the sweet car, has a huge house, and parties like there's no tomorrow. Yet, he's deep. He doesn't embarrass Samantha, when he really could've. And he dumps his hot, senior, girlfriend, for the sophomore that no one knows! I know that's not real life, but what i'm getting at is when there's someone out there that will love you for you, ya dig? That's what I want.
<3