Behind Door Number 2…

I look down, almost dazed at how weightless my key ring seems to abruptly be, there is an empty space between my car remote and my fitness pass where four keys have resided for the past calendar year of my life. I used to reach into the depths of my purse, one that is comparable to that of Mary Poppins, and pull out this accumulation of keys leaving myself to wonder if I’d murdered a janitor in a previous life. The prior 16 hours have been filled with sweeping, dusting; mopping, packing, moving, dance breaks for sanity, full bottles of wine for mental capacity, and close friends for comfort. Stacking my memories into properly filed boxes that hold clearly marked labels giving them a road map to their next destination evoked no emotion from me; I was very lackadaisical considering I realized how much work I needed to indulge for me to actually pull this off in the allotted amount of time.

Staring backwards at the pile growing in organization behind me and the clutter and chaos in front of me diminishing had a sigh of relief leaving my lips, wanting more than anything to go outside and play. Of course we’ve been delivered the opportunity of an 87 degree day complete with 90% humidity on the only day of the past year I have chosen to move my life out of one box and into another – this mother nature character is a real bitch, if PMS was a job…She’d be a boss. No air conditioning unit here, no fan that can figure out the actual capacity of the word ‘functioning’, and no matter how wide we’ve opened the windows, we couldn’t even bribe the wind to blow with all our dance dollars out on the line for the promise of ventilation.

I was anticipating being able to be in a moving car with a breeze more than anything else at that moment. I wrote my final note to my landlord on a 2 ply bounty quicker picker upper paper towel; truly the last form of paper left in my unit, scanning these four walls that have housed more memories in the last year than I’ll ever be able to remember on a consistent basis. The memories that were made here will be consistent with that of things that come across your mind when you least expect them to, something that will remind me of ‘that one time’, a reminiscent sort of events.

Checking the closets and cupboards to be sure I didn’t leave anything behind, it suddenly hits me hard the emotion I have to be leaving my current dwellings in anticipation of new habitat. I lay the four keys down on the same table that held a welcome home note the day I moved in a year ago – the four keys that opened many doors in that building – but among the more important ones; the mailbox – to reveal the magic and wonder I may have received in the form of words, letters, postage stamps, postcards, or even the weekly ad for the supermarket. The key that let me in from many cold MN winter nights – and the keys that opened the door to my home, the first home I’d ever paid for, the first home I lived in, truly alone, and could make it into my version of what I thought home would be. I walked through the threshold that held the weight of the door for protection and privacy these past months and held down the fort while I was away. I don’t feel sad in the sense that it’s gone…trust me, I’m ok with moving to a different street – I’m more or less emotional for the fact that for the first time in my life I was leaving something of mine behind, and as small and insignificant it may be, its pivotal to me.

Walking down this familiar hallway has an unfamiliar feeling welling up within me – I’m leaving my ‘home’ that has been in my routine for the past year. It’s at the finality of this thought that I realize and can fully grasp the word ‘home’, many people would describe it as the place you live, the place your parents live, the state in which you reside, things that make you feel that way, but more than anything what I realized today setting down the four keys that allowed me to feel at ‘home’, was that it is more than a dwelling, a space, a square footage, monthly rent, or intrinsically decorated apartment that properly expresses your identity as a person.

Home to me has become a state of mind.

I have been travelling across the US quite a bit lately in search of adventure, and have found things that make me feel like home, people who make me feel that way, or when I’m feeling lonely, thoughts that have my mind travelling back to the feeling of home – you can be across the world, country, state; in your own home, kitchen, bed – it’s the paradigm of home being a state of mind that fully captures my heart, for I will travel this country and then the next, but I hope to always mentally be in that state.

So for a brief paying of respects where they are due, thank you door #2 apartment 508 – you have held many things within you. Thank you for being the door that I could always count on to open to a place that I had created for myself, thank you for holding many laughs, tears, long talks, and lonely nights. Thank you for always slamming so hard that I jump sometimes when I have almost forgotten, the door that held the gateway between me being alone and someone bringing me company on the other side of it, thank you for holding my words, emotions, biggest secrets, fears, failures, and highly mounted success’ within you. If life was the price is right, for the past year you have given me the showcase showdown of a time – thank you.

Home may be where the heart is, but the heart is in a place in which the mind has the ability to lead it.

Ocean gives, Ocean takes

As I sit, the tide pulls back from my toes touching the tips of the ocean, with every breath it pushes forth as if it’s reaching for something it may never get to. I glance around at all the things left behind by the ocean once it has gone, they may stay there for a few more minutes,hours,or days; either way what the ocean gives, the ocean also takes away. There’s a life lesson to be learned within each of these rising and falling tides – what we have amongst us, within us, within each other is given to us. May it be the form of a blessing, a miracle, or a complete disaster that we seek any fiber of silver lining within; with the power of these wonderful things being given to us, they can also just as quickly be taken away – relationships, people, abilities, talents, possessions. The time to appreciate these things within your life, is now; you wait any longer and they may be pulled back with the lowering tide of life. Tomorrow, Time, Quantity – is never guaranteed, do with that knowledge what you will.

Burying The Hatchet…

It’s a metaphor, the following individual is the hatchet – I’m verbally burying her in the hole she dug for herself.

I understand that people may have handled this situation differently than I did, but I’m not most people and what I need to do is what I need to do I don’t waste my time asking other people if ‘its’ ok’.

The Facebook news feed refreshes itself on my phone, I finish washing my hands look at the top status – it happens to be a blog…I like blogs – under the link read the words “for redundancies sake”…hmm that’s odd I posted those same words 6 hours ago, did someone repost my apprentice application in an effort to spread the word and increase my votes? Aweso…oh…wait thats not it; well I’ll see what this blog is about…

Little did I know kids I was opening Pandora’s box – I have never been stalked (only by one ex bf), traced, followed closely, or basically had someone emulate every corner of my life in their own free will (dear god who would want to be me). I understand that upholding my vlog on YouTube – there’s no real secrets left about me that I haven’t shared…I’m pretty open with my small audience and just maintain me while getting a few giggles out. I also understand the traffic my blog receives allows a large amount of readers to scrutinize, pinch, prod, poke, and maybe even admire my every word…

It’s funny considering just a few days earlier I had entered a blog titled ‘I may be wrong, but I promise its in all the right ways’  I had noted that I write what I want, I don’t apologize and rarely do I remove something that someone else may ask me to…this time was different, I could feel the separation between this individual and I, and we are already 500 miles apart. I removed the blog. I had many sweet words involved in this piece, it was written in the early morning hours of ruin, and was straight from the heart and the bottom of a glass bottle I’d been searching for answers in: nothing but exactly how I felt and every emotion I was feeling, after channeling it into that piece, I felt I could make peace with the situation, I left it all out on the table per say – or the mead composition notebook. Some people pay 100’s of dollars an hour to sit in a comfortable chair and have someone who consequently doesn’t give a shit about them or their problems, listen to them and offer ‘mmmhmmms’ and ‘how do you feel about that’s’, I took a different more raw, more exposed, more ethereal approach, that’s why I pick up a pen everyday and allow my words to hold power my thoughts could never carry.

Opening this link was anything but expected, I read through the first page and refused to click ‘older post’ to look at more, my jaw was on the floor, my size 9 heels stepped backwards and stood frozen to the ground like a tongue to a MN winter flagpole. Was I reading this correctly? I had just returned home from drinks with a friend – and was going to play some tunes while I changed clothes and putzed around…until hell froze over, I didn’t even bother taking my heels off or the dress that had taken shape to my body, and was desperately clinging to places that should be able to breathe. I reached to the fridge to grab a beer, priorities, drank half of it then returned to the glow of the computer on my front table (only table). Picked up the computer while teetering on stilettos into the living room balancing a beer praying it wouldn’t spill on the keys, melting to the ground I lay on my stomach and begin to scroll…from there I barely have words for what I saw or experienced, and I feel as though facts would better suit the readers to involve themselves with the story.

I called some close friends of mine – nobody was answering their phone at this odd hour of night – I knew one of my bests who lives in CA would, they are 2 hours behind us after all…without fail she answered – told her to get on-line and call me back in 20 – needless to say her reaction was quite similar to what I had experienced an hour prior.

Basic knowledge for what is about to be observed: I have removed names, locations, and any indication to whom the individual is behind the black square, I may really dislike you all of a sudden but I’m not here to defame you…your ‘work’ can take everything you stand for crumbling down on its own. Pay attention to dates posted compared, and timelines. Sentence structure, body, paragraph style, font, and even font color…because of the overwhelming amount of visual competence, I had to make them thumbnails: click and they will enlarge so you can read them. The blog stills that have the swirly orange background are hers and the plain text is mine…or just look at which one was posted first and the debauchery that trails close behind… The youtube video still is from a video I posted April 7 (it says on there) and all the questions I asked my mom, as specific and humorous as they were (ie: who in our family should be on zoloft, where was I conceived: all for jokings sake) were the same questions she asked her mom….creepy.

Shows the dates in which this story (not even stories) were published, mine superceding by a few days...


I recognize the abundance of knowledge and the abundance of time I put into connecting all these dots…but to me it was more than worth it to call someone out on their shit – I felt robbed, and angry: that’s probably karma coming straight back at me for putting that piece up in the first place against wishes. But the most disturbing part is that this girl is going to be a mother soon – It’s sad that it was at the capacity of literally copy + pasting my words to make them seem as her own…looking at this altogether at once had me completely creeped out: In my eyes she created a virtual portrayal of herself, except it happened to be nothing like her…

I take pride in what I write and publish – my words hold weight and when I give them to someone it is a very personal thing for me: this is one of the few things in my life that I absolutely love and will never give up on, even if it means cutting out time in my day from other things – writing heals me and to see someone take MY words and throw them around on a page; rearranging sentence structure, sprinkling in names, and random tidbits about their own life is nothing less than a slap in the face. These words were never yours to begin with, hence why all my work is copy written (check the blogs front page).

– Knowing me I didn’t let this go unnoticed and held off for about a day to cool down, when confronting her she immediately deleted me from Facebook, blocked me, deleted her YouTube account, and set her blog to private: she wasn’t quite tuned into who she ‘thought’ she was dealing with, which is shocking considering she has been emulating me, my thoughts, and my exact words. Everything written in these pictures are my words and I think there is one quote in there from a book I was reading or a song – other than that she tried to pass it off as her own. The most unnerving part is that after she deleted me and knew she was caught red-handed she realized the damage control she had to do – hence why she has virtually cut me off, see I was a good enough platform to copy from, but the second she knew I found out her game, I was chopped liver…thats ok though I knew this girl from a college English course for one semester freshmen year, other than that – never really talked to her. She did send me a message apologizing about it only after the opening statement was “ok.yes. I took some ideas from your blog” I’m sorry: children stop reading now…

Bitch are you serious? That isn’t borrowing an idea, there are verbatim contained that are so fucking obvious even a blind stoner amidst the dark night sky could see them. What the hell did you learn about plagiarism in the 7th grade? clearly you must not have been there that day or the day in sex ed where they taught you to wrap it up… the fact that you are a soon to be mommy and your priorities are impressing everyone else via the world-wide web instead of your future is discerning: you need to get your priorities straight. I can’t imagine how exhausting it is to live two separate lives and be carrying another in your belly.

The following is the message I received in response to a wall post I left her where I copy pasted our blogs each on their own line simply stating I can’t help but notice the obvious and precise similarities…

May 5 at 1:58pm      Report

        Ok. Yes. I took some ideas off your blog. I am sorry. I think you are a talented writer and a funny gal. I will remove the copyrighted material. A majority of the things on my blog are my own though and none of that will be removed.
I am sorry. I will remove you off my friends so you don’t have to worry about me taking any more of your ideas. If any harm has been done please let me know and I will try to make it right.     
        May 5 at 2:47pm      Report
        Also I was not aware that your blog was copyrighted. I see that now that it is. All the ideas have been removed.      
FIRST off, thank you for apologizing I’d be sorry too if I’d been walking around pretending I’m something I’m not…nor am even close too. No one of us is better than the other but when I read her posts and then I read mine…they are night and day. I write about intricate, personal, emotional, specific and precise shit….not “oh hey had dinner tonight, watched Conan, wiped my ass, going to bed…xoxo blog”. Not my style.
SECOND thank you for the half-hearted apology but I’m a realist and I’ve woken up and smelled the coffee about 4 years ago, I realize you’re sorry that you got caught, because if you were actually sorry in the first place…your ‘borrowed’ ideas wouldn’t be screaming my name through your page: every single date and time I’ve written something, yours is to follow shortly afterwards…you think I’m dumb enough to believe that’s coincidence?
THIRD thanks for removing me off your friends because quite personally I don’t know if I could have clicked the mouse and pulled the trigger on that solid foundation of a relationship…(dripping with sarcasm, but you know that, you’ve seen my writing) I can’t help but realize (meaning know) that you deleted me/blocked me because you don’t want anyone of your interpersonal circle to find out your big secret, i get it – you also set your blog to private invite only…and i’m sure that was to ‘protect’ me too…not just use my words where I can’t see them, and still carry out this ‘persona’ you’ve created.
LASTLY: pertaining to your last message, I’m going to be as polite as possible about this…are you fucking dumb? Do you really mean to tell me that regardless of if it was my blog or not, you presumably thought there were ghosts out there publishing this shit from behind a screen and keyboard? Everything on the internet, in a book, movie, song – is owned by someone; hence citing sources. And to the degree in which you’ve worn out the copy and paste command on your keyboard you can’t even begin to pretend like you borrowed a damn thing but whole stories. You didn’t even change the font color from one of my stories you copied…you’ve got to be the dumbest copycat I have ever seen. Also when you approach the next person you decide to steal from (it is stealing ps) and you claim that you ‘were not aware of the blogs copyright’ look above at the URL, whose name is at the beginning…? If that doesn’t scream “hey bitch you know who’s this is, don’t touch it” then I’m not sure what you need to realize that it’s someones. Among all the rest of this ‘i didn’t know’ bullshit; it’s the mere fact that you are acting like you just stumbled upon this blog and you have no idea who Meg Sweeney is…again the ‘being friends on Facebook’ law applies here – if you’re going to lie cheat or steal, probably go through your friend list every few months and weed it out, ya dig? I do find some humor in this situation though so it hasn’t all gone to waste…any time I had posted ‘universe’ I see you took liberty to change it to God, which is great, I’m all for believing…but while you’re praising your Yahweh, it should probably be your love for him in your own words wouldn’t you say? Hey who am I to say anything, he is the judge after all.
bottom line: You knew exactly what you were doing, because the comments on ‘my’ pieces of work on ‘your’ blog were nothing but positive ones from your friends and family saying how great of a writer you are….and you acknowledged the compliments with thanks and separate shitty words of flattery strung together to make a half sentence…how does that feel internally knowing those all belong to me? You’re only sorry because you got caught and you are trying to rid your web browser of me so you can hopefully contain this secret along with god knows what else…You’re like one of those little kids that is shy and quiet up front but then ends up snapping and taking out half of the 6th grade on a whim – one who gets what they want when they want it because no one ever told them no…guess what? I’m your worst fucking nightmare, you can only fly under the radar for so long.
I realize this is getting lengthy and anyone reading this is like “ok meg it’s not that big of a deal” not to you, because it wasn’t your words she felt like taking, not your pride, and not your circumstances and situations that you hold dear enough to your heart that you want to leave their imprinted memory to a timeline for all the world to see even when you’re dead and gone…to take my words and make them apply to any sort of situation you might be in? disgusting. I’m a full functioning human being with a moral compass that points north, so hate me all you want but like the situation says ‘ you’re just mad because you got caught red handed…ya sneaky bitch”.
I realize you’ll read this because what would a heroin addict do without needles for a week? Where is the writer going to go when she gets writers block to ‘get’ ‘ideas’. But when you get to this line…pay very close attention: I ever find any fiber of my work splashed in/on/around any forum having to do with you – I will verbally ruin you.
ps – this is all under copyright if you weren’t aware…

Wood Floor Redemption

I breathe deep and give proper attention to the situation at hand,

Then I glance over to make sure I have my wallet then I do this the only way I know how,

First stop; liquor store to buy the biggest bottle
of wine they have for less than 20$, this girls on a budget. Second
stop: record store; this one’s monumental to this process kids – the right
tunes can take away the hurt faster than the alcohol induction will. Last stop
is my living room floor…and by that I mean the only floor big enough to fit my sprawled
out body in this studio apt.

Record humming on the player next to me murmuring out the words that will eventually start
to hand stitch my heart back to its previous formation – bottle of wine in hand
to hopefully forget the feeling for a little bit, not long, but long enough to
let myself know that it will be possible one day to not have to feel like this
anymore. There are plenty of wine glasses in my cupboard but those are for
impressing people, and fancy shenanigans this situation has nothing to do with.

So there I am lying on the floor, record on, bottle in hand beginning the healing
process that will undoubtedly take a lot longer than the remainder of my lease
here on this apartment, but for now – this is exactly the most therapeutic thing
for me. And although it’s not a pretty sight to see, nor is it ideal for an
alcoholics daughter, its raw. Its real. Its me, dealing with my shit the best
way I know how, and I can’t ask for a more pure experience because lying in this
moment I realize how unequivocally blessed and cursed I am all at the same
time: a year from now, I’ll only feel the better of the two emotions – but for
right now wood floor redemption is what will help me sleep comfortably tonight