MeganCarson.com

Here are just a few random things going on in my head right now:

Sometimes I will change rolls of toilet paper if I find they are installed with the paper unrolling from underneath the roll, not from the top.  If you are an under person and invite me over, you’ve been warned.

I cried after yoga class yesterday.  It was a much needed stress reliever I did not know I needed.  It kinda opened the floodgates of emotion and I just let it out.  Often times God meets you in the strangest of places.

I follow Shaquille O’Neill on twitter.

Right now I have a random No Doubt song in my head.  It’s something about a million-dollar contract and a super hot female.  I’m sure I have the words wrong, but oh well.

I am saddened by all the infidelity currently in the news.  I’ve never had trust issues before, but it makes me a little scared to be in a relationship.

I am struggling to find the balance between enabling and empowering my students.

I have a silver glittery piggy bank on my night stand that I tuck money into every once in a while.  I have no clue what I am saving for, but it makes me happy knowing it’s there.

Today (Thursday) I had a few minutes to kill in between point A and B so I dropped in on my dad at the office.  I could not believe he still has a #1 Dad sign on his book shelf that I made for him in woodshop back in 7^th grade.  So sweet.

I am trying to get into the habit of reading and journaling every morning, but this week has been killer on my schedule and I’ve only had time to read a little something at night.  In love with a devotional called Jesus Calling. If you have not read it, please do.

Next week I am going to blog on Monday, Tue and Wed about what it’s like to be single during the holidays. I’m an expert. Eyes rolling.

I still sleep with a blankie that has been all around the world with me.

Most days of the week I would consider myself a confident person. That’s not to say there aren’t days when my confident persona is all an act. As confident and “grown up” as I can be, a nervous little girl lies right below the surface, and some days the needy, fragile and weak me appears on the scene—usually after too many glances at magazines like Marie Claire and People or seeing that couple that’s always making out in front of my classroom. (Honestly, don’t they have homework they should be doing?) I’m not sure which me is more authentic, Self-Assured Megan or Self-Doubting Megan. Actually, I’d argue a bit of both.

Right now I am feeling a bit more connected to Self-Doubting Megan.  I don’t think it’s a bad thing.  It just is.  Since we’ve been spending more time together, I am noticing a trend with my timid counterpart.  Even after all her experience with dating, she rears her ugly head too frequently when it comes to conversations; specifically conversations with men.  She freezes up.  She does not take advantage of an opportunity to just talk to someone for fear it might be awkward or the gentleman might be judging her or critiquing her.  Or worse, ask her out.  But I know nothing about him?  And what if I am not interested and he is and I have to say no and break his heart. (Most likely the only questions my conversation partner is going to ask me are more along the lines of what I do or why I only have cereal, Drain-o and a People Magazine in my shopping cart.) So I tell Self Doubting Megan to relax…it’s only a conversation!  But most often she just keeps quiet and passes up the opportunity to be friendly and meet someone.

But not always.  There have been instances when she’s braved the conversation waters and now has a few stories perfect for a post!  Stay tuned for Destination Unknown, The Exit Row and The Stalker.

I love station wagons.  You should know that my love of the wagon goes way back.  My parents brought me home from the hospital in an Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme.

I promise they have good taste, so I’m telling myself this beauty was a “must have” in 1978.  I actually remember this car and the joy of sitting in the waaaaay back watching the world go by out the back window.  Eventually us Carson’s upgraded to a Vanagon (again, I PROMISE they have good taste), which was quite popular in the 80s and the perfect car for separating my brothers and I.  Lots ‘o room in that thing.

Anyhow, back to the point of this post.  The beloved station wagon. Audi, BMW, Mercedes, Subaru, Volkswagon or Volvo.  Make or model does not matter…they all make my heart go pitter patter.

A few years ago it was time to retire the college car and purchase my very own adult car.  I started looking and shopping and I kept coming back to one type of car…the station wagon.

However, the station wagon screams soccer balls, stirrup pants, Sesame Street and fish sticks.

It says, “Don’t make me stop this car!” and “Are we there yet?” and “Mom, he’s hitting me!”

It does not communicate fun, flirty, fabulous and single.

It does not say, “Wanna grab a drink after work?” or “What are you doing Friday night?” or “Where have you been all my life?”

So I wisely put my station wagon dreams to rest and purchased a sporty 4 door.  And I love it.  Almost as much as my future station wagon.

But rest assured, while a wagon may be in my future, stirrup pants are not!

Michael Buble might be the sexiest singer out there.   I adore his music, his face, his Canadian accent.  He just came out with a new album last week called Crazy Love.  What a perfect title.  He makes women crazy and helps people fall in love.  Speaking of love…I must admit that I as much as I love him, I hate him as well. I love his music, but I hate that his songs and that voice (oh, that voice!) make me more love sick than the Notebook.  Below is a section from my book where I address this very issue.

On a beautiful Thursday evening, Allison, myself and the rest of her family headed to the Greek Theater to see one of the sexiest, most talented singers of standards to walk this earth since Frank Sinatra.  Yes, that’s right.  Gorgeous Canadian Crooner, Michael Buble.  I love a good concert and I had heard from multiple sources that Michael Buble puts on one of the best.  However, these people who rant and rave about Buble failed to inform me that attending this concert as a single woman could be disastrous to my emotional health.  First, there are very few heterosexual men that are Buble fans.  Gentlemen, you’re missing out! And if there are heterosexual men in attendance, they are definitely not single.  There is only one reason they are in attendance- they are happily married and their wife dragged them to the concert against their will.

I know, most of you are thinking, ‘Come, on!  Really?  You’re this pathetic?  You’d let a perfectly good evening under the starts listening to a very sexy man sing very sexy songs make you depressed and love sick?” Absolutely.  You try listening to lyrics like  “I get to kiss you baby just because I can.”  Or “you’ll never find someone who loves you tender like I do.”  Painful, I tell you.

In addition to being surrounded by love songs, we were surrounded by lovers.  Not since living in Europe had I seen so many intense and very public displays of affection in one place.  Between the women who were wearing tight tube tops with “Buble Babe” written across their chest to couples who could not keep their hands off each other, one very single Megan and equally single Allison could only laugh and make the most of the situation.  In the end, the concert was worth it even if the take home value was feeling love sick to my stomach and having a strong desire to return someday with the one I love.  When we got home that night I took it upon myself to send out an email to all my single girlfriends with this short warning:

Public Service Announcement
Topic: Love
Title: How to Avoid Being Lovesick.  Suggestion #352

Don’t ever attend a Michael Buble concert until you’re dating, engaged or married.

Spending 2 hours listening to a suave Canadian croon about love, love and more love is too much.

Watching couples dance and kiss and canoodle is painful.

It will make you more love sick than the Notebook. Trust me.

You’re welcome.

I love stationary.  Crisp, beautiful paper used for correspondence.  The look, the feel, the smell…I love it all.

In addition to stationary, I appreciate a sharp looking card.  Birthday, Christmas, Teacher Appreciation Day, Just Because, Blank…I love it all.

So tonight when I cleaned out my stationary collection I found a smattering of all of the above mentioned cards.  However, I also found a few surprises.  Actually, 9 surprises.

I, Megan Carson, (who, mind you, has never been in a relationship long enough to celebrate any kind of anniversary or say those three little words) have the following in my card collection:

5 Happy Anniversary cards- including one that has a photo of a vespa and says, “You rev my engine.”

3 “Perfect Match” cards.  All with pictures or drawings of matches and cute sayings like “Caution: This Is One Hot Item.”

And 1 card that reads, “I’ll take ‘The Special’.  That would be You!”

Endearing?  Pathetic?  Please, don’t answer that.