shallow breathing

About five minutes into my drive home and two minutes of conversation with my sister, my breathing slowed. And not just slowed, but grew so shallow I could barely feel my lungs moving at all. Tears began to fill my eyes as slowly as the breath filled my body. (Or not filling, as it were.) I drove about ten more minutes in silence after that call dropped. Silence peppered only by the freeway drumming and my shallow, timid breaths. And as I pulled into a parking spot only a few moments ago it hit me... I have now been abandoned by two fathers in my life. Two. And as I sit here and type, aware of this truth, considering what this means for my life, I cry. And cry. My eyes filling quickly with those same tears earlier held back by my shallow, timid breaths.

And as I sit here searching for a thought to console myself, I decide that perhaps just acknowledging the truth is enough for now...


{posted using BlogPress from my lovely iPhone}

shut shut shut it.

So excited to run home and make this. Gluten free, of course.



(Did I mention I am SO excited?)

(Don't forget to check our Alie & Georgia. They're fabulous.)

thank you, ashley

This birdonthelawn blog post by Ashley Thalman was, just... well, beautiful. As I consider what it will mean to one day be a mom I am overcome with excitement and emotion with her words. So much love... so much dedication.

{photograph via Shawna Herring Photography}

peace

Happy (peaceful) Saturday morning to you...

early morning hunt

Another morning waking two hours before my alarm and yes, the sun. Thoughts of wedding won't leave my head. I hop on the computer to resume with last night's search for inspiration.

Here's what I found:


I won't say how this will appear in our wedding, but it'll be another small touch that I'm planning hide. And it's perfect. Especially given our wedding website address: www.nicklovesmegan.com

I'm thinking Scrabble tiles might make their way into the event as well. But that decision will have to wait for the groom to open his eyes...

[image from Sarah Drake]

content

Ingredients for a lovely Sunday evening:

• silk pajama bottoms
• Hanes v-neck tee
• pad thai delivery
• new episode of Mad Men on the television
• and my two men sitting by my side
  

(and perhaps a lil gluten-free cupcake for dessert with a lovely cup of tea)

perfect girls, perfect shoes

Oh, Keds. Keds. Keds. The memories of you still so strong after twenty years. It was an all out obsession. Not just me, not just my little southern California school, but apparently 'cross state lines. My pal, dearKatie from Austin, TX has confirmed this, "I did have a pair of the classic white lace ups. But they were filthy after like, a day. But my friend Mary Harry* always seemed to have a fresh pair. I'm sure she just washed them like a normal person." Of course this left me with visions of a certain (snotty) girl in my junior high who actually did not RUN for fear of bending her shoe at the toe, and seperating rubber and canvas. But when she DID run, like in P.E., she ran with straight legs and a prissy, pained look on her face. It was a sight. (Although I of course tortured myself for not being as controlled and perfect as said (snotty) girl.)

Sigh.

So, why do I bring this up you ask? Well, Keds are back. Well, have been. I vaguely remember some teen TV star sporting some in my InStyle magazine some years ago. But, now they're back in a far more exciting way... they're going green. Or at least somewhat. And, the design below makes me want to melt. Or squeel. Or run straight-legged and prissy-faced on the nearest blacktop.

I (heart) you, Keds. And thanks for sharing all about Keds, dearKatie.

* Name changed to protect the innocent.

our family & family guy

Last night we were cuddling in bed (me, Nick and our new love, Perry). Family Guy was on the television (Nick's selection). Out of nowhere Perry's head pops to attention, his ears perk up and eyes become transfixed on the screen. After a moment of pause he bolts to the end of the bed where he remains seated for over (I dunno) 6 minutes, eyes locked on this silly episode of Family Guy. I cannot tell you how hard Nick & I laughed at the sight (quietly, of course, as to not end the moment). And for those 6 (or so) minutes this was my view, tears of laughter in my eyes and a full heart:

water water everywhere

At a (thrilling, thrilling) corporate meeting this morning I sipped on the most delicious water I've ever tasted. And as my mind wandered I began to notice the bottle in my hand, admiring its shape and intricacies. Sitting in that meeting I fantasized about serving this water at my wedding (it's green afterall, with an old-world feel). Well, the moment I got back to my desk I began madly searching for this delicious, beautiful water. Not to my surpirse this New Zealand gem is DAMN expensive. (Sadness.) But, as the bottle sat in my window as the days rolled on and the sun made its way around the sky scrappers, it hit me. Vases. VASES.

I spent the next few hours visiting each employee in our office chittchatting, smoozing, and damn near begging for their bottle. I now have 14 in total. I feel like a wedding-planning, design-loving, tree-hugging goddess right now.

PS: These are going to go beautifully with my cut glass vases.

PPS: Turns out I'm not the only person who's admired this bottle.

in disguise

I am writing here in stealth. Taking a moment to myself on my corporate computer to document a moment for Megan. I'll just let this Super Assistant cape drape on the coat hook of my cubicle as I share / write for a few...

This morning I drove to work in silence. By choice. Radio off. Phone off. Just the sound of my breathing, my tires on the road, the turning signal. The sound of cars as they drove along side me or passed me or whizzed by in the opposite lane. The dull chatter of two women as I stopped at a light in Chinatown. A few impatient car horns, one siren. It was a beautiful soundtrack. And as I neared my office, much to my delight, a few hundred chanting voices near a city building begging for a better Los Angeles. Again, it was beautiful.

And, I'm remembering the feeling of silence. I am breathing. (Ah... delight.)

But, the phone rings. My boss calls my name from his open door. The cape magically reappears. Heels slipped gracefully back on. Just a moment of me and now I'm back to the corporate thing. Bye.

finally finally

At long, long last Pure Shock Value has finally been submitted to a film festival. Well, four festivals to be exact. Four of the thirteen for this calendar year. So, after 14 months from preproduction to now we are finally out there. It feels good. Oh so good. But, of course this is no ending... this, dear friends is only the beginning. We've only just begun...

introducing...

I'd like to introduce the newest member of the Goodnoch family, little Perry.


He's a shelter doggie, roughly 2 years old and a Terripoo (they think). He stole our hearts a two weeks ago while visiting a shelter near my parents home. Now his new home is our home. Our hearts are full and we couldn't be happier (!)

guilty

I'm almost at the 3 year mark of life with current job. I am past the 4 year mark with the (dirty word alert) corporate world. All the while thinking I resided on the outside of this (here it comes again) corporate thing. Turns out I was wrong.

While cruising the Yahoo! front page this morning I came across, The Most Annoying, Overused Words in the Workplace. This article outlines ten overused buzzwords. I began reading the article thinking I'd enjoy it from the outside and privately snicker as I connected the various annoying words to annoying coworkers. Turns out... I am guilty of two. TWO damn it.

Four years. Two buzzwords. At this rate I'll be singing ten before you know it. But tell me, how guilty are YOU?

have a nice day?

This morning I felt empowered. A delicious, light organic breakfast. Fair trade coffee with fresh ground hazelnut. I sat in my dining room, sun on my back. And while eating this food and drinking this coffee I wrote in my little journal about turning thirty. It was a perfect hour to begin my day. The fiance awoke, nice good morning kiss. We danced around each other, still trying to get used to this one-bathroom-household life. I found a cute outfit to wear and was out the door.

On my way into the office I spoke to my mom. A little bit 'bout life. A little 'bout wedding planning. A call comes in while we're chatting, but I press "ignore" 'cause we're discussing my involvement the day-of the wedding. (I need to win this point. I am not out to be a princess on my wedding day. I am throwing a party to be shared with people I love and enjoy. I insist on being involved. After all, I'm empowered this morning.) End the call. Park the car. I slip on my sassy red shoes, grab my purse, coffee, cute cardigan, and oh yes, my phone. Oh, and that phone call... what was that phone call? I bring the phone to my ear, feeling good 'cause it's been a great morning. A pleasant and slightly familiar voice on the end other end... but, then I hear "Mammogram." "Monday." "Oncologist." "Have a nice day."

And this is where my heart starts racing and I panic.

TO CLARIFY: No, I don't hate mammograms. (I'm used to them by now.) The word "oncologist" doesn't scare me. (I have a great one. Having him on my team comforts me.) What gets to me is the element of surprise. And the timing. It's knowing that I am going to now walk into my office and spend the next little while on the phone, once again, dealing with my health concerns. But, I'm okay, right? I'm feeling empowered today. Feeling strong.

Three hours later I no longer feel strong. Seven phone calls later I feel tired. Overwhelmed. Sad. No longer empowered. My eyes have filled with tears three times, my voice quivered with the insurance rep. My once strong demeanor for the day has now melted and I only want to cry.

And I guess I'm just here wondering... how do I get my empowered self back?

define 'wedding' please.

This whole wedding-thing is curious. My quiet, driving force this entire planning process has been in effort to reclaim my event from the wedding industry. As if: Nick asks me to marry him, I say 'yes', and suddenly that moment lifts in a cloud above our heads, away from our grasp, and rushes determinedly towards The Wedding Industry.

Whooosh. It's gone.

It took me a while to find our wedding once it had left our grasp. But my trick? I claimed the day back. In writing. For all to see. But, most important, for ME to see. For me to see when I let my design-self take over and begin obssessing over the shape of a vase. Or the bathroom candles.

this is not the day of our dreams,

but rather the day when we make

one of the most serious commitments of our lifetime

(followed by one hell of a good party)

(And take a peek... it looks lovely on our wedding website.)

vintage glass stole my heart

FINALLY. The wedding decor inspiration I've been searching for. (Thanks, Salvation Army.)

And after a trip to Trader Joes for a monochromatic bouquet we have a little hint of what this just turn out to be. Now the only challenge is locating 60 or 70 more of these... Happy shopping, Megan (!)

(not the best photographic quality, but you get the idea)

my new title

a month ago today i was invited to accept a title i've long been dreaming of... Furious Theatre Company Ensemble Member. Gaaaa. it was quite an honor, something i'm only now getting used to. a week ago The Theatre @ Boston Court hosted The Furious for an afternoon bbq in anticipation of our co-production this summer. introducing myself as "megan goodchild, ensemble member" made my heart sing... i couldn't help smiling ear to ear.

(just call me furious.)

this name of mine

this name of mine has been the subject of many a conversation in my life. if i were a woman of numbers i'd say of the 10,892 days i've been alive, at least 7,000 of those have included a conversation about my name...

"are you really a good child"
"do people always comment on your name?"
"i bet you felt a lot of pressure growing up to be a good child..."
"ha {insert a chuckle or two} cute name."
"did you get called 'bad child' a lot while growing up?"

needless to say this name, megan marie goodchild, is something i've grown to love about myself. it's one of the few constants on my journey of self discovery. it's not the name i was born with(more on that lovely subject later), but it's certainly who i've become over the years... and who i intend to stay.