Thoughts On Cankles, Dieting, and Finding My Voice.

The night before I started my first diet, I looked a package of Oreos square in the eyeball and said, “This isn’t goodbye forever, this is goodbye for now.”

Every. Single. Day.

Every. Single. Day.

Some background on the subject: I went on said diet because when I came back from studying abroad, my mother informed me that I had developed cankles during my four month stint overseas. I guess eating carbs all day, erry day, while simultaneously washing them down with all the beers in the world causes your ankles to swell in such away that you actually can’t tell they were ever ankles in the first place.

I knew that the diet wouldn’t last forever. Mostly because I’m an impulsive eater and can’t keep my hands off of anything that resembles a dessert treat. But it was something I needed to do in order to learn balance and appreciation of food, rather than just shoveling it into my face without breathing.

My struggles with food and dieting is a conversation topic for an entirely different time. What I’m trying to do with that poorly structured metaphor, is explain that some times you need to step away from things that make you happy, in order to better yourself in other ways.

I started this blog back in 2013.  At the time, it was a great way to avoid doing actual work.  I was able to find my voice, define my writing style, unload all my weird thoughts permanently on the internet, and ultimately, figure out that writing was and is my passion, and that I needed to work hard to pursue it.

In January 2015, I achieved my goal of becoming an advertising copywriter.

In short, this means that there has been increasingly less time that I have been able to dedicate towards writing for my personal benefit. Sure, it’s sad, but just like the Oreos, there are things in life you have to give up in order to improve upon yourself.

Only instead of decreasing the size of my ankles so I can wear regular shoes, it’s taking a step back from growing in my personal writing to finding my voice within the professional world.

So this is not goodbye forever. I’m sure there will be gems that I can think of that truly deserve to be written, and they will. But in terms of regular posts and consistent content, I can’t commit to that any further.  For those of you who have been loyal followers, I appreciate it more than you know.

You have given me the opportunity to share my ideas, thoughts, and weird stories. I’ve been afforded the chance to read some amazing posts, connect and network with awesome writers, and find people that I admire, adore, and am completely jealous of their minds.

So check back periodically for some rambles that will most likely involve snacks, wine, and how I’ll really never understand how to be socially acceptable during human interactions.

If you’re not my mom and aren’t already following me on everything, and for some reason want to keep up with me on other platforms, please feel free to follow me on INSTAGRAM and TWITTER, and I’ll return the favor.

Alright, Who Spiked the Kool-Aid?

DISCLAIMER:  This post is about how I am trying to collect new friends.  It is also filled with a lot of random mumbo jumbo that may or may not confirm that I am off my rocker.  Read on for more information.

Normally when something good happens to me, it’s because I’m on my fourth glass of wine.

The adult grapes usually give me a false sense of overconfidence and the idea in my head that I am excellent at anything and everything I do.

Then I realize it’s Saturday night and I’m sitting on my couch braless, in expandable pants, eating stale veggie stix while watching Spring Breakers and contemplating how to appropriately word my letter to the Academy demanding Selena Gomez be nominated for an Oscar.

Then I wake up in the morning and realize that my good idea at the time is actually just the brainchild of my ballsy, wine-induced, overconfident alter ego, Megye West.

When I found out that I was Freshly Pressed, I had to slap myself twice, eat two sandwiches (no relation, I was just really hungry that day), and call my mom to tell her she wasn’t the only one reading my blog anymore.

I’ve had a slew of new followers since being so fresh and so pressed, pressed, which is amazing and I am super-dee-duperly thankful for all of ya peeps, mostly because my cerebral cortex is one weird place.

Since you’ve been so wonderful as to care about what I have to say, I wanted to take the time to get to know all of you.  That’s right, I WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH YOU.

So here’s what to do if you want to be friends, which essentially means you’ll instantly be on the proverbial path towards greatness and celebrity status and I will shower you with compliments and fairy dust (or just do it to take pity on me) :

  1. Leave a link to your favorite blog post from this past week in the comments section, I want to see what you all have to say, and perhaps boost my vocabulary in the process.  Gotta get my brain right, ya dig?
  2. If you’d be so inclined, you can follow me on FacebookTwitter, Instagram, and Google+. Because too much of a good thing is never too much… or is it? No, it’s not, because ice cream and puppies exist, and you can never have too much of those.
  3. Answer the question below and email it to me  I’ll pick my favorite to be featured in a new segment that I’m creating right this second called, “What Happens When Meg Asks Weird Stuff.”  It should be a blast.  Or it will backfire in my face.  One or the other.
  4. Ask me weird questions. Like I said on my About page, I am in no way shape or form qualified to give advice, but I do it anyways.  Like a boss.  And a champion.  We can talk about what would happen if dogs could speak English, or why more people aren’t terrified of ladybugs.  Think about the possibilities.  They are almost as unlimited as breadsticks at Olive Garden.

Question of the week:

How many five-year-old kids do you think you can take on in a fight and still be victorious?  Rationalize your answer.


Sorry to the two friends who had their faces removed. I’ll buy you new faces ASAP.