Megan Stielstra's Blog

Christopher has a friend named Gregg. Gregg collects vintage Hotwheels, spells his name with three g’s and loves Apple computers and all things internet-y—he and Christopher “geek out” together (I’m never exactly sure what “geeking out” means but it does involve beer and speaking in a weird language called HTML which, in our house, is pronounced “hhhhit-timmm-ulll” and involves symbols like these: <<<< >>>>> which Christopher calls “Carrots” but I call “Poop” ‘cause of that Me and You and Everyone We Know movie). When Christopher and I started dating, Gregg and his wife, Tonya (who is awesome for several reasons including, but not limited to, A. she makes me laugh really hard and B. she introduced me to Stoli Vanilla and soda) threw a party and made me feel very welcome (meeting the new boyfriend’s friends! Ahhhh, the PRESSURE!). The best part of this party was their six-year-old daughter kept shooting me with a squirt gun, which somebody said was ‘cause she had a crush on Christopher, which ended up being good preparation for all the other women who had crushes on Christopher (Christopher is reading this right now and shaking his head. He’s thinking, “Hmmm,” which in Christopherspeak means, “That is a big fat lie,” to which I’ll say that he’s one of those rare guys who doesn’t notice when pretty girls are checking him out, but I, of course, notice and, usually, point it out to him. “That girl in the green is totally checking you out!” I’ll say, and he’ll say, all oblivious, “She must just have something in her eye,” and go back to whatever he was talking about before, and I look up at the sky and think, “Please tell me what I did to deserve this awesomeness so I can repeat said action over and over for the rest of my life, A-men).

Anyhow, Gregg and Christopher had some beers the other night, and when he got home, Christopher said, “Gregg wants to know why you haven’t posted on your blog in so long. He says he reads four blogs a day and yours is one and you haven’t done anything new in a really long time, and when you do post you post like five hundred posts in one day and he said, ‘Why don’t you tell her about staggering?’ and I told him, ‘Story of my life,’ and he said—”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “Staggering is the story of your life?”

“No,” he said, and then he said a lot of fancy words which I totally can’t quote verbatim but the gist of it was that repeatedly telling me about technical advancements that will make my life easier/faster/sunnier which I then promptly forget due to my I Can’t Be Bothered attitude about technology in general is the story of his life.

“So you’ve told me about this staggering thing before, I take it?” I said.

He groaned. “I’ve ONLY told you about it ten times.”

“You did?”

“I did.”

“Tell me again,” I said, so he explained it all again, something about how I can sit down and write nine posts and there’s some application on my computer which will post them randomly over X amount of days to make it look as though I’m posting regularly, when in fact I’m more of a When the Spirit Moves Me poster, which is a different thing entirely from a When the Spirit Moves Me WRITER. I do write every day—I just don’t post every day. Sometimes I think, Well, that would work really well in my novel. Or, That would fit into what I’ve got going for 2nd Story. Or, Whoever’s reading my blog these days wouldn’t be interested in THAT. Or, I’m not sure what I MEAN yet, so I’m not quite ready to put that out there. Or even, It’ll be cold day in hell before I’ll show this to anyone—and sometimes all of the above.

D.H. Lawrence has this line (my students are thinking, “Again with the DH Lawrence! Can you find somebody else to quote, please!” to which I’ll say, “Is that a challenge!? Did you just take the gloves off your left hands and throw them at my feet?” to which they’ll say, “Whaaa?” and I’ll say, “Please educate yourselves here) “I do not know what I think until I see what I say,” which is how I go about most everything. I write and I write and trust that eventually it’ll make sense, like Oh my God, I’m getting married next month (WHAT? you say. You’re getting married NOW? I didn’t get my invitation! to which I’ll say, Ohh! Ohh! Let’s play CHARADES! One word. Two syllables. First syllable: it’s a vowel! A—no—E—yes, E! Okay! Second syllable: rhymes with an orange melon-like fruit and a large mammal that travels in herds across the African plains and uses its horns to defend itself from predators. Come on, come on!) that’s fucking huge and there’s fifteen thousand magazines about planning a wedding but not a whole lot about planning a future (unless they’re of the financial variety, but I’m talking the whole I Come From Divorce and will I one day wake up all insane and Christopher will think, “Who IS this girl?”—cue Annie Lennox Who’s That Girl—“And where did Megan go?” and I’ll want to say, “I’m right HERE! I don’t know what’s HAPPENING! I just don’t want to screw this up!” How come there’s not a magazine for that? Huh? But yet One Hundred and One Ways to Wear a Veil [which I’m not wearing, FYI] and is that really a metaphor for a woman’s hymen? What? Did she just say hymen?) and, also, next month is my birthday which, like all birthdays, brings up the whole Why Haven’t I Accomplished XYZ By This Time, I’m thirty-ONE! shouldn’t I have blah and blah and blah by now and—Oh my God—is that a gray hair? Is that one? Is that one? And, while we’re at it, did I really plan my birthday and my wedding in the same week and what exactly is happening in the Middle East right now? And the New York courts ruled WHAT about gay marriage? And Superman has a KID? and I wonder, do people actually want to read all that?

Because I’m not even sure what I’m talking about, I’m just writing to figure it out. So should I just wait and post when everything’s all sorted out, and written very nicely, with pretty grammar and clear thesis statements and organized, inspiring clarity?

This is where someone should remind me that my last post was about peach-flavored water. Inspiring this is not.

ANYHOW, I haven’t been posting for a while. I’ve been figuring some stuff out. And working on my book. And living a little—it’s summertime, people! You should all rush out and have a Vanilla Stoli and Soda! Get yourself a squirt gun and shoot the new girlfriends of the boys you have crushes on! Go out for beers with a friend you haven’t seen in a while and ask them about their girlfriends blog! Invite that girlfriend over to your house to hang out with you and your wife who makes her laugh really hard ‘cause she’d love to see you both and is way jealous that Christopher got to, ‘cause of course he didn’t rub her nose in it, of course he wasn’t like I got to hang out with Gregg with three g’s and his Hotwheels, hahaha <<<<<<<< >>>>>>>>.

Whew.

Thanks, Gregg. I needed that.

I’m gonna stagger the next batch. For you.