Color By Number Holiday



Highlight the 1s with gold

when it’s the time of year we all flock like geese,

swooping and swirling towards the South.

Reverting to our original stomping grounds.

Easing back into the life we used to call our own.

The sounds, the smells,

the voices, and feelings

are familiar.

Sunshine-y and lovely to look at;

our most prized possessions lined up on a shelf.


Paint the 2s with blue

when I’m sitting crossed-legged on my childhood bed,

looking at my childhood walls.

Staring at the room that I’ve known for over 15 years.

The lavender walls I begged for mock me while the photographs

of those I once knew line the walls.

I’m home.

Living out of a suit case in my once-home house,

feeling strange taking food

from the used-to-be-mine fridge.


Stain the 3s

with shards of crimson

when I feel anger bubble up from somewhere I’ve never known.

My parents ask me

“Where are you going?”

“What are you doing?”

All this accountability is something I had forgotten.

Something I thought only teenager-me would have to deal with.

But somehow, I am still here in my once-home house with my

always-there family.


And when you shade in the 4s

with the gray blurry blobs of

the high-school girl I once knew,

understand that she’s now a stranger.


Dark forests of green should fill the voids of

the 5s

as I realize my friends have changed

and I have not.

They know what they want

and how they’re going to get there.

They have internships

and careers

and something called stability.

And I’m jealous,

making the green of pure



creep toward the black barriers that outline

those 5s

like weeds taking over a garden.

Timing is Everything


And I am jolted awake

by an alarm-



incessantly coaxing

me out of bed.


And my bus is pulling away from the curb.

My newfound love for

punk rock music

just isn’t fitting the mood.


And class is starting.

But my brain won’t stop

writing poems in my head.

And I can’t focus

on the calculus in front of me.


And I’m sitting in a bathroom stall


for the boy outside to pass.

Because I’ve accidentally memorized his schedule

but I am no longer hoping

for the accidental run-ins


And I’ve once again turned down a hallway

that consists of me and a couple

who are going at it.

And I can’t tell if they know

I’m embarrassed to be alone with them

or if they are pitying me

because I am alone.


And I’m chopping lettuce

and slicing tomatoes.

While the cooks tell me I’m too pretty for a boyfriend.

And I contemplate

hacking off my hand

and serving that instead of the Caesar salad.


And the sorority girls

with their raspy voices

and trust funds

are asking me to replace the noodles

with the veggies.

And so I lie to them and give them regular dressing

instead of lite,

just to spite them.


And I’m lying on my back

staring at the ceiling,

wondering how people can pretend

to have it all figured out?

And what’s the fun it that anyway?

Because once you have it figured out

it’s over.

October Thoughts

Sitting by the lake on an October evening

I am alone on a park bench.

My thoughts are dancing around me in a swirl

Of confusion.


Across the gold-rimmed water

From the setting sun.


What is the man sitting on the grass writing so furiously about

In his little brown notebook?

And does the boy who just ran past me think I’m as cute

As I thought he was?

How many years have the forty-something couple that just took a selfie

been married?


I want to travel and swim in the Mediterranean Sea,

Dance in Barcelona with a boy who has dark brown hair

And eyes that scream mystery and



I want to fall in love

And get a puppy.

Have a garden with vegetables

And flowers on my coffee table.


I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up

But I’m supposed to have it all figured out.

I want to write and draw

And learn sign language

And teach English in a foreign country.


Caught between being an adult

With responsibilities

And bills to pay

And the need for freedom

And a little girl who is just



The sun is setting

And its growing colder.

My pink mittens

Scream adolescence.

Which is funny,

Because it’s something I am trying to hold on to

But want so badly to leave me at the same time.


I am walking back home.

The sun is gone, the street lights are leading my way

Down the dim street in front of me.

It’s cold and I just want someone to be holding my hand.

But alas,

I am alone.


Good Morning

Today my alarm went off at a horrifying 6:25 am. And after a weekend spent watching movies, loafing on my couch, and staying up way past my bedtime, it’s no surprise that I wanted to throw my pillow over my head and try to shut out the terrible beeping that now filled my dreamless head.

But alas, I sucked it up and dragged my sleep-deprived self out of bed. Sleep-walking through my morning routine, I pulled myself together slowly but deliberately, my mother’s words of “you’re on the market now, you should look good wherever you go” blasted into my head. Rolling my eyes at my never-good-enough reflection, I grab for my keys and clamber out the door, trying, but not succeeding, at making as little noise as possible as to not wake the roomies.

I am greeted by a stiff chill as I make my way down the quiet morning street. I file in next to my daily-passerby-companions. The girls coming back from 6 am yoga, the business men in pressed navy suits and starched white collars, the blonde valet boy on the corner I always smile at but get nothing in return. Good morning, friends.

The song on my phone changes beat and I glance up at the sky, suddenly filled with a sort of lightness that could only be labeled as happiness. The once dark and cold sky is now ablaze with blues and pinks from the rising sun. Good morning, sun.

I arrive at school after a long bus ride that was NOT filled with giggles and stolen glances because if you are keeping up, the cute boy on the bus is canceled and I am alone. The silent bus ride gives me time to look at the yellows, oranges, crimsons, and greens that fly by my bus window, painting my landscape, and making me smile again. Good morning, world.

After class, I am once again teleported back downtown, back to what seems more like real life. Except not today.

Today is a strange day, unlike others, because today, I am happy.

I am not happy because I got all the sleep in the world – because I am still sleep deprived.

I am not happy because it’s a good hair day – believe me, it’s not.

I am not happy because a boy smiled at me – because he did not.

I am not happy because of school – because I have no idea what I’m doing with my life in that corner of the room and honestly it freaks me out a lot.

I am happy because today I saw the sunrise, and my coffee tasted good, and the sun was shining in a way that made the gold leaves even more gold than I’ve ever seen before.

I am happy.

Anomalies and Other Eye Rolls


I’ve gone AWOL for a bit, it’s true.

Well, ladies and gents, it’s because I was in lOvE with the previously mentioned boy from the bus. Ha ha – I know what you’re thinking. You’ve known this boy for a total of a month and all of a sudden after sitting with him every morning and hanging out TWICE, you’re IN LOVE? Fake news.

And okay – I agree, I sound completely insane. But that’s kind of what crushes are for – aren’t they? They make you go insane for brief periods of time and are completely heart-wrenching and awesome at the same time. Right?

So basically the spark-notes of the spark-notes version of our love story goes like this:

Girl spots cute boy on bus. Girl fantasizes about cute boy for weeks. One day cute boy sits with girl. Boy and girl hit it off. Boy gives girl list of songs he likes. Girl gives her own list back. Boy gives girl little gifts every-now-and-then including but not limited to: a birthday note, a paper airplane made from a dollar bill, a couple of drawings, and some coffee grounds. And that’s where the good stops and the bad begins. And I’ll have you know right now, you don’t have to tell me that this whole situation already sounds like this boy is a life-ruiner, a heart-breaker, and a complete and utter ENIGMA– like what actual real-life boy does things like that?! And if you placed your bet on him being just that, congratulations, you’ve just won the grand prize.

This man was like a fictional character I had always dreamed about. Sometimes I feared that I had just made him up in my head because of the amount of boxes he was checking. He was everything – which sounds so STUPID (for lack of a better word) now that I think about it. I was so incredibly into this jackass I – okay wait. Let me finish the story so you understand fully.

Basically it ends like this: He came over after school one Wednesday afternoon and we had lunch and then decided to go for a walk. On our stroll, we got to the topic of miscommunications. Miscommunications and signs from the universe, and honestly it would’ve been a really good concrete conversation – until these words spilled out of his mouth in a jumbled, nervous rush: “Let’s just be friends.” 

Taken aback, I stopped dead in my tracks. “Friends,” I ask? My voice breaking a little. Don’t you dare cry, I think to myself. Thus ensues the biggest eye roll of a conversation I think I’ve ever had the displeasure of having with someone, ever. He went on about how “we’re just too different” and “he’d end up breaking my heart anyway so why try?” and “I just don’t understand him in the way he needs” and lastly, the most I-wanna-bang-my-face-against-a-wall quote “I’m just an anomaly, Megan.” 

Like –

Can you just picture this moment? I am standing there as this floppy-haired, green-eyed anomaly of a boy basically tells me that my brain just couldn’t possibly ever be on the same level as his (obviously) superior one. I don’t know if I’m the only one but honestly, my blood pressure is raising as we speak.

To be quite honest, this post has no purpose. Other than to just rant and to explain my brief hiatus from the blogging world – the blogosphere – if you will.

Anyway, after my day of wallowing in my own self-inflicted depression, I have since deleted all the songs he told me about, cried all my tears, and eaten all the ice cream in my fridge. I’ve done pretty much every cliché after-the-breakup move you can make, and I still don’t feel any better.

But alas, at the end of the day, I’ve reached a general decision:

I need to take a break from indie, floppy-haired, green-eyed boys.


Ear “Buds”

We live in an age of constant technological advancement. Our phones are attached to our hands, we think in abbreviations, and we have a need for nonstop stimulation. I’ll be the first to admit, I am contributing to this generation of technologically addicted zombies. I walk from class to class, from home to the bus, from the bus to coffee shops with ear buds in, drowning out my surroundings with my own personal choice of music. I avoid awkward silences by going on my phone. I waste an obscene amount of time on social media. And I never really even thought much of this until just the other day.

I’m going to let you in on a little secret.

I have a crush on this boy who rides the bus with me. It started out like this: day after day, week after week I would stare at him on the bus and wish he would make eye contact with me (yikes, I know!) but then one fateful Wednesday afternoon by complete coincidence he sat down NEXT TO ME. And then proceeded to talk to me and now has every day since (!!!). More about that situation later, but the point here is this:

This man. This young man who is living in the SAME 21st century I am, is doing so without the crutch of a smart phone. I know, everyone wrinkles their nose when I say it. You’re correct- he somehow lives his life without Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook. He doesn’t send 300+ snapchats a day and is somehow still living.

So THAT means that this boy and I only speak and interact during those few magical moments we share together on the bus and in between classes. We don’t snapchat or text into the late hours of night. And to be quite honest, it’s been absolutely refreshing. It makes our time together that much more meaningful.

The other day, we were listening to music together and he takes out an ear bud, and looks at me and asks, “Do you ever feel guilty for listening to music in public?” And accompanied by a long pause on my part, I answered truthfully- yes.

And why, you may ask? Well, I’ll explain it to you how cute-boy-from-the-bus put it.

When you put those beloved ear buds into your ears, you’re closing out the world. And yes, sometimes you need that and it’s useful and downright necessary sometimes. But other times, you’re doing just that- closing people out. You’re missing out on those random conversations you could have with the person sitting next to you on the bus, in between classes, or strolling down the street. You’re missing out on the sounds of LIFE in general.

So these things called ear “buds” are probably the most antisocial, anti-“BUDDY” (see what I did there?) things of them all.

My point here is this: maybe if you take your ear buds out once in a while and actually enter the world you’re living in, you’ll surprise yourself. And maybe the world will surprise you.



Well folks.

We’ve done it.

We are 20 years old.

And now it’s a new week, a new month, and a new YEAR OF LIFE. My weekend was one for the books, that’s for sure. Let me explain:

I woke up Saturday morning and made the trek down State Street toward the Madison Farmer’s Market (one of the best in the Midwest) (and yes, I’m an expert). I toggled along in a slow trickle with the rest of the crowd, until I came to my favorite scone tent. I’m telling you right now- these babies are the best hands down. A huge variety of flavors, along with tons of vegan options as well!

A day that begins with the Farmer’s Market is a day well spent.

An expert said that once I think.

Then my friends and I went to dinner at BelAir, an amazing Mexican restaurant downtown. We feasted until our stomachs hurt on chips and guac and an array of tacos. Amazing.

After dinner, everyone came over to my apartment, where lo and behold, my friends had decorated with balloons that screamed 2-0 and streamers and a fucking piñata. I mean, come on, I’ve told you I have the best friends, right? Now do you believe me?

So we spent the night laughing, dancing to ABBA, and enjoying each other’s presence. I, being the birthday girl, sadly tapped out around 11:30pm due to a mixture of liquids I had consumed. 😉

All in all, my 20th birthday was a success and a half. I hope each and every one of my friends knows how much I love and cherish their friendship and am so SO appreciative to have them in my life.

But now

Dun, dun, DUN…..

It be Monday. And I know, I know- que the groans, que the moans- we get it. You hate Mondays. But I do not. I choose to look at them as a fresh start, a new beginning.

Who cares if last week my crush didn’t ask me out even when I thought he definitely would? Who cares if I had to work 3 days in a row last week? Who cares if it rained 4/5 days? Not me! Last week is in the past, my friends.

Sometimes Monday’s tend to feel a bit blurry. Like something is a bit off, perhaps due to the fact that you just had two days off from work or school, and you need to get back into the swing of things. Occasionally I feel like an imposter in my own skin on Mondays, like I’m just going through these motions that I know are CORRECT but I don’t necessarily know WHY. It’s just me adjusting back to my weekly schedule, I guess.

But MAYBE, instead of falling back into that boring, gray, mundane weekly routine that we allllll have, perhaps this week’s challenge could be to do something a bit different. Take a detour from your usual path just a little. Perhaps treat yourself to a biscotti and coffee, strike up a conversation with the person next to you on the bus, or I don’t know, wear red lipstick.

Do something outside of your usual box, and shake yourself out of that Mon-daze.

The Big 2-0


In fourth grade, I turned 10 years old. I remember my teacher turning to me and saying, “A decade old, that’s pretty big.” And now here I am, ten years later, another DECADE older.

It’s kinda nuts to think about leaving my teenage years behind me (another flashback to turning 13, finally becoming a teenager and definitely living up the expectation of “teenage angst”, much to my parents dismay). But 20 years old? I mean, come on, that’s a whole different ball game, my friends.

I’ve just begun my sophomore year of college, I have moved back to Wisconsin after a year away at a small private school in Iowa. It was a year full of tears, stress, and quite frankly, it fucking sucked. Let me explain:

Heading into my freshman year of college, I had it all figured out and was going to become an Occupational Therapist and make serious bank and who cares if I had a billion dollars in student debt from an expensive undergraduate degree and then an even more expensive graduate degree?

It was my “dream”.

I put “dream” in quotation marks because it was never really MY dream, it was a pathway that was planned out for me from the start. A pathway that I (and society) concocted that would get me money and AFTER the money then happiness would follow. But then everything changed.

One day, my father caught a glimpse of my silly little drawings I did for fun and said to me, “Megan, why not do something you actually love? Why not go into Graphic Design or Illustration?” and I’m like- hold the phone. You mean, I could go to SCHOOL, and pursue something I actually LIKE? What kind of world was this? Who forgot to tell me about THAT path? Why had I never even CONSIDERED this?

And that’s where I’ve landed so far. I am currently pursuing some kind of career (haha) in illustration and perhaps writing or maybe I’ll design clothes or work for a magazine…  Do you see what I’m trying to say here? I still don’t know shit!


I’m coming to realize that no one really does. And that is OKAY. It’s wonderful actually. It’s an amazing, freeing feeling to have the entire world ahead of you that you could use to your advantage from ANY ANGLE, from ALL THE ANGLES.

So yeah. I turn 20 years old in 2 days.

The big 2-0.

And this is MY year. I can feel it.