The Best Thing

Is going to a friend’s house & seeing how they’ve changed. How her voice is getting higher & her hair is getting longer. The best thing happens when you’re snuggling, talking about nothing in particular, just before you fall asleep. The most stressful thing is seeing your fiancé fake-run around the house with a very sharp pocket knife, saying stuff as he “runs” around. I love seeing him smile, being able to hug him in real life helps. You’re the best thing, besides dancing. I’ll miss you tomorrow.

MBB

2/21/2021

#weekendcoffeeshare: Jan. ’21 Edition

#weekendcoffeeshare: January ’21 Edition

January was a hopeful month for me. Here’s some highlights:

  • Blue October came out with a new album last year and it’s fantastic.
  • I let my sister knit a bit of the blanket I’m working on.
  • We have a new president of the United States!!
  • Trump is banned from social media, which makes my life even better.
  • I bought some new yarn, & am working on my own Fisherman’s Rib blanket. (Fisherman’s Rib is where you’re knitting into the stitch below, so it makes this nice thick ribbing overall. It’s a very fun piece to make & actually easy to knit!)
  • I created a new bullet journal & finally found a method that works for me. (Yay!)
  • I got engaged to the love of my life, Rory James. He and I have been together for six years & make a pretty good couple if I do say so myself.
  • Mom and I organized & cleaned out my desk. It looks so clean & organized now! (Thanks Mom!)
  • My sister Abbie got the vaccine!
  • Charlie girl celebrated her first birthday. May she have many more golden years to come. (She’s our golden retriever puppy.)
  • Overall, everyone is doing well & staying healthy at our house.

Keep washing your hands, socially distancing, & please please please get the vaccine when you can.

Have a fantastic February everyone,
Meghan B.

pics

From the blog knittingplugged
Taken by Melinda, Rory’s mom. Left to right: Rory, me.
Charlie, the birthday girl.
My new bullet journal on my desk.

Fat Goals

When you’re heavier,

you can’t just wear anything

When you’ve gained weight

from medications,

your stomach poofs out

bit by bit

until you look like you’re pregnant

When you’re going up in size,

you wonder why the hell is this happening to me?

Your pants no longer fit

your cup size goes up, too

your middle has more density

than it’s ever had before

At this point,

I’d rather be depressed & skinny

than happy & fat

MBB

1.13.2021

your eyes are an ocean

your blue-green waves
tug me from the soft sand & beckon me into your lapping waters,
where I splash until my skin is pebbled with goose-pimples

I slog through the water, logy with exhaustion
having spent hours drowning in your pounding waves

once more on the sand,
I’m warmed by the sudden eruption
of Volcanus heat from your undertow.

M.B.B.
[5/28/15
edited 5/23/2020
edited 1/3/2021]

Dear Facebook

You may think you know me, but you don’t.
See, you’re just a product of some guy’s algorithms, asocially portrayed by Jesse Edinburgh

You may think I’m gay because I joined
the group Gaymers,
when really I’m just demisexual
I champion those who are labeled different, because I’ve felt different growing up

You don’t know who I’ve crushed on over the years, or everyone I’ve ever loved or everyone I’ve ever hated

You don’t know that I like to think of myself as a camera & that JB is right,
tomorrow I’ll be me, but tonight, I’m a camera & a pen & a poet

I write to live, & live to write,
to break the glass ceiling above my head,
hovering like a raincloud

You might think I’m dating just a man, when really I’m dating someone whose genderfluid, encompassing the best of both worlds

MBB
12.30.2020

m.b.b.

writing is like playing Tetris
I fit the words into the right slot,
rotating the words around in my mouth
before laying the correct brick down

I am a poet,
just 29,
you can write tags on your city block
but you can’t write mine

I am the one & only M.B.B.,
razor sharp with my fountain pen’s nib
ready to write you a new one, anytime

M.B.B.
10/6/2020 (edited 12/2/2020)

Thanksgiving Day

Good evening, everyone!

Thanksgiving was 2 days ago. I got to spend the entire day with my family: my mom, my dad, and my sister. (Normally, we spend Thanksgiving with my grandparents, but refrained from doing so this year due to Covid ramping up in my home state.)

(more…)

It’s been a while…

Hello, again! (Blows dust off the screen.)

It’s been a while, I realize. Lately, I’ve been getting used to the busy season at work. (I cashier at my local Target.) I’ve been doing my best to catch up on my book reviews, since I’m reading so much so relatively fast. I’m still just as passionate about books and entering new character’s lives as ever as I hurtle towards my reading goal of 40 out of 30 books on Goodreads.

Bullet journaling is my new passion, and while I may not be as talented as some, I still do my best to integrate creativity into my bujo. (This year’s bullet journal is going really well, better than my first attempt in 2018.)

I’m also falling back in love with podcasts. I’m currently finishing up “Nice White Parents,” which is a five-part series done by the New York Times about the struggle to achieve racial integration in one New York school–and the white parents that influence the decisions in this particular school. It’s gotten praise and criticism in its reviews, but for me (as the oldest daughter of two educators) I find this podcast interesting.

I’m looking forward to Thanksgiving, where I’ll be spending quality time with my immediate family. We are still very much up in the air about whether or not we’ll actually be going to my grandparents. Still, my family and I plan to be safe no matter what during this tremulous time.

What’s new with you?

Please stay safe,

Meghan B.

Who am I?

I ask,
& you tell me:
I’m your oldest & dearest friend,
I’m a reader, a singer, & a mathematician.

When I wake in the night,
(disoriented, drenched in sweat)
you’re there to hold me,
reminding me that you’re here,
& remind me that it’s over, it’s over, it’s over—

In these moments,
when I’m running (wildly) lost along a dirt road,
you call my name,
drawing me back onto the correct gravel path,
drawing me back into myself:
You’re the guiding lamp leading me home.

As I follow your words—
the bobbing light in front of me—
I come back to myself:

I am Jude St. Francis.
I am your boyfriend.
I was treated horribly & came out on the other end.
Most importantly, I was always me.

If I am Jude, then…
Who are you?
I ask,
& you tell me:

I am Willem Ragnarrson
& I will never let you go.

M.B.B.
10/4/2020 (edited & expanded upon 10/5)

Notes: This is one of my favorite scenes from A Little Life. When Jude, who is plagued by nightmares, wakes up disoriented, he “wakes so far from himself that he can’t remember who he is.” Willem, his boyfriend, chants “him back to himself.” (Pgs. 607-608, Kindle version.) The italicized lines are either directly from this scene, or paraphrased slightly to fit the poem. As always, thanks for reading!

#weekendcoffeeshare Oct. 2-4

Happy weekend! Happy October!

I know it’s been a while since I’ve written on my blog. I’ve been pretty busy at work, and my reading schedule has increased since I started using the wonderful library app, Libby.

(more…)

#Imgratefulfor

Here are three things I’m grateful for in my life right now:

  1. my amazing family
  2. my good friends & my boyfriend
  3. my sweet Golden-girl Retrievers Bentley & Charlie

My family has helped pump me up when I’m down, has encouraged me to be myself & believed in my writing skills & my passion for books since I was a little girl.

My close friends & my boyfriend are a great source of entertainment. We’re all on the same page, & I’ve recently become closer to my boyfriend’s friends. We support & help each other when difficulties arise, & like to hang out on Discord together.

My dogs love me up & help me stay active. They love to be by our small pack, & keep me busy as well.

What are three things you’re grateful for right now?

Airbending

Bending the air while doing breathing exercises is a struggle:
If I can bend the other three elements so well,
why can’t I airbend?

Listening & seeing trouble ahead is a big problem for me:
I bend before I speak,
using my muscles before I think (sometimes)
I know I’m young & brash,
but that’s just who I am right now.

Tenzin says I have to listen & then weigh my options,
which is a gift given to too few people.
He says I need to flow like the wind, move like the air—
I’ll figure it out someday,
I’ll learn to move with the wind at my side,
tangoing with the air.

M.B.B.
8/2/10
(modified & edited 7/18/2020)


And when you think how much she struggled to learn how to airbend ...
Airbending | Korra | Legend of Korra | Avatar | (gif) | Avatar ...

Reichenbach Fall

If only everyone could successfully fake their own death,
just like Sherlock does in “The Reichenbach Fall,”
we wouldn’t have to worry about dying.

The pavement would be splattered with fake Halloween blood,
& your tears would mirror my tears of poorly-timed laughter.

If only I hadn’t watched Requiem for a Dream
the seedy drug underbelly filling my mind—
if only I hadn’t thought I could subject myself to dark narratives,
but my head whispered to me, “You can handle it.
You’re already full of dark thoughts, go for it.”

Now, I press my head against to metal of my lofted bed & sob.
I’m still childish in freshly grown adult skin,
& need to find ways to put on my adult suit & dress slacks.

My favorite kinds of characters have always suffered:
Sherlock, Jude St. Francis—
That’s why I’m drawn to Sherlock, to Jude.
They pretend to be removed from their emotions,
from their humanity,
but they are actually becoming more human every day,
thanks to John & to Willem.

I miss you, my friends.
Know that I am well
& trying my best to stay afloat in this new sea.
I wish you weren’t gone.
Let’s have dinner sometime.

M.B.B.
9/17/13
(edited 7/17/2020)

Please note: This is an old poem from college. It doesn’t reflect my current mood or state of mind. I’m doing so much better! I do, however, appreciate how far I’ve come in my mental state & the time capsule it represents. (I still am drawn to Sherlock & Jude St. Francis, though.) I do not think that we should fake our own deaths. It’s cruel & unnecessary to our loved ones. I’ve spruced up this poem, because it’s old & needed to be dusted off.

ADD Superpower

I have ADD
but it catches
the red feathers of birds in the trees,
& the kaleidoscope of colors in the grass, the golden fur of my dogs,
& the ideas swirling around my mind

I have ADD
& I sympathize
with other people’s lives
I know what it’s like to live on the outside
of the inner circle,
the huddle of people who think you’re weird
if you’re wired differently
(like your wires are colored blue & red to their green & orange)

I may have ADD
but I can rap my poetry
like I wrap yarn around my knitting needles—
I carve out my words with care,
my handwriting hieroglyphics
once as solid as the Dead Sea Scrolls

I have ADD
that sets me free to fly from my cocoon,
my spotted wings collecting early morning dew

Having ADD
isn’t like seeing squirrels in the trees,
but dragons perched on the branches,
lounging like panthers,
smoke curling from their scaled nostrils

M.B.B.
7/13/2020

Legacy. What is a legacy?

It’s bonsai seedlings planted during your lifetime, see
it’s words written for a treaty
it’s mike-drops before your cabinet,
a plan to get through to Congress

my legacy is in words,
tattooed onto my wrists, black words upon my white flesh

it’s fighting endlessly
for publishers go-ahead to the printing press

it’s waking up early & writing morning pages,
I guess

drink a cup of tea
then maybe write a few sentences

I write for the sunrise,
I wait for the next mental plot surprise

& I, only 29, write my own poems,
you can’t write mine

M.B.B.
7/8/2020

Note: some lines are inspired by the musical Hamiltion.