funk in deep freeze

Taking a break

04 Feb 2012 21 Comments

by meganfinley in me

In a rare moment of Seriousness, I’m gonna admit something that I don’t generally share. I suffer from anxiety attacks. Mostly they just keep me from going out sometimes, and for a few years, keeping me from grocery shopping without the aid of an iPod and therapeutic tunes. But lately, and because of some life turmoil, those little mini attacks have turned into Full Blown Attacks.

The other night I had a complete panic attack — you know, not being able to breathe, feeling like a heart attack is eminent, clutching onto that poor guy I married and not being able to let go. And the only way I calmed down was when I took an anti-anxiety pill that was prescribed to me by my dentist in ’06. (Found it in amongst the dog’s meds after a mad search!) Oh so dramatic, I know.

The thing is, they’re not going away. And they come on with no warning. Due to the similarities between them and an asthma attack, I keep hitting my inhaler because the placebo affect works, so that means I have quadruple the amount of steroids coursing through my body, which means my heart rate is increased, which means that that it’s stressing me out more than usual. And all this is stressing Aaron out as well.

Aaron suggested that I take a break — a vacation to relax. So, this Sunday I’m heading over to my favorite island in the world and I’ve been ordered by both Aaron and Ariel to — get this — NOT WORK next week.

Not work!?

This is going to be hard. The only time I haven’t worked at all was in 2009 when I went on the houseboat trip that had NO WIFI access. The only time since ’09 that I took a bit of a break was when I was on a camping trip with my boss — who had to yell at me and then demand I separate myself from my beloved iPhone so that I wouldn’t sneak check emails.

Let’s all be honest here, I’m going to Maui and it’ll just be my parents and me in a location that I’ve been to so often that it’s like a second home, so I’ll probably have a LOT of down time where I will still work on things here and there. BUT Aaron has asked me not to work, so I will try my best not to.

Things I WILL try to do while on Maui:

* RELAX
* Stay off my laptop as much as possible.
* Read
* Go to the beach and just close my eyes
* Swim
* Work on improving myself
* Work on relaxing so that when I come back home I won’t be such a basket case.
* TRY not to obsess over the things that are getting me down.
* Have a few island-y cocktails
* Go for long walks
* Just freaking breathe — asthma free bonus!

Does anyone else have any advice for me on how to manage these panic attacks?

Young Megan: The Dork is strong with this one

31 Jan 2012 9 Comments

by meganfinley in me

Wrote a post on Offbeat Home that references a “young Megan” and so, of course, Ariel asked [read: demanded] that I link to this picture. (I have a sneaking suspicion that my darling boss actually has that link bookmarked, because I thought of this photo the other day and then thought “sigh, it’s somewhere on Twitter, I don’t feel like searching for it.” And then BOOM! Ariel links me to it no problem.)

So now I’m post it here for easy finding, for posterities sake, and so that we can all have a good laugh.

Ladies and gentlebergs, I give you Young Megan:

Looking at photo albums that my mom made and then gave to me. Can't believe my parents let me go to school looking like this.

DMV madness

02 Aug 2011 2 Comments

by meganfinley in me

So one of the great things about turning 30 is that the DMV reminds you that you are clearly have grown so old and your body has morphed into an unrecognizable state from your twenties that you are FORCED to come in, change your descriptors (weight, height, hair color, etc) and then take a new photo. What sucks for me is that, once you get married, if you change your name, they also force you to take a new photo. So, like, two years ago I already went through ALL of this. But does the DMV care? No. DMV really doesn’t give a shit.

Yesterday, I was going to go to the DMV, but then Aaron guilted me into going out and getting lunch with me, and that turned into a shopping trip for my birthday (that’s a blog post for tomorrow) and I ran out of time. So today was to be the day.

My license from 2008 that I retired once I changed my name. I call this my 'blonde surfer girl' photo.

Oh! I should mention that I, of course, got the letter that told me what I needed to get done by 8/4/11 WELL over a month ago. So that means that I had to take care of it days before my license expired. So, bear in mind time is of the essence.

So, yes, today was to be THE DAY. The day of the DMV. The day of waiting. The day of making sure that I take a shower before I leave the house so that I can hope to get a good photo. It was also the day that I woke up with some allergy-induced eye swelling. Seriously my right eye could barely open, was all red and was watering profusely. About an hour later some of the swelling went down. And by “some of the swelling went down” I mean, my husband first saw me from across our apartments courtyard and immediately said, “what happened to your face!?” and rushed up to me looking extremely worried. Yay.

A few more hours later when it was time to go to the DMV, my eye had gone from “disgusting oozy mess” to “did you get into a bar fight last night?” Nothing to be done. I had to go TODAY.

So an hour and a half after showing up to the DMV + 2 week for delivery, I shall have a brand new license with a brand new photo of me looking like a mini version of this guy. Ah well, my luck with great pictures for the last two cycles had to run out sometime.

Times are good Megs

31 May 2011 10 Comments

by meganfinley in me

Dear Megs,

I want to blog my current state of affairs because one day you might forget this time in your life. I think it bears blogging/open letter writing as I believe this is an extraordinary time for you and I want you to always remember this time when you were being a legit bad ass.

Right now you’re working three jobs at once: writing and managing content for Offbeat Bride, guest posting for MyWedding.com and working on MFP shoots.

At this particular moment in time, while you are working your butt off, you are also in Texas (where you’ve been for the past two weeks) taking care of your father who is recovering from a surgery. You’re seriously getting up, walking his dog, fixing and fetching all his meals, running his errands, and dressing his wound. And while taking care of someone isn’t easy for you, and it’s even less easy for your father to have to be taken care of, but you’re super happy and feel lucky as hell to be able to do so. Your dad thanks you every day for everything you do. But more than his thanks, you appreciate the time you guys get to spend together. The bonding’s been nice.

Oh yeah!
More

What 2011 means to me

08 Jan 2011 8 Comments

by meganfinley in me

I turn thirty this year. Thirty.

Sometimes I’m okay with it — thirty seems cool, seems like adult-ish, seems like I’m WOMANly, seems like a new adventure, a new page, a new decade.

But then sometimes it seems … terrifying.

I mean, I’m still amazed that I have a drivers license. I still feel nervous when I order drinks at bars and restaurants. I still can’t believe that I’m married. I am so not ready to be thirty! That’s a whole other level of adulthood that I’m don’t feel prepared for.

I don’t know, this is something to focus on during this year so that I don’t have a full-on breakdown, like I did on my 29th birthday. On the day I turned twenty-nine I realized that I hadn’t yet accomplished my ONE goal that I had set for myself. (And yes, I only had one goal, I like to keep it simple and achievable.) I just wanted to travel out of the country one more time before I was thirty. And there was: twenty-nine and not enough money in my bank account to cover even half of what an international ticket costs, let alone be able to afford a place to stay once I got … wherever it was that I went. And it crushed my heart. Staring at my poor husband across the table from me, across the table from me at a restaurant that I had been DYING to check out, of which he remembered and made a surprise reservation for me, and he was looking back at me, crestfallen, because I was crying and hopelessly unhappy.

It looked like I wasn’t going to accomplish the one stupid thing that I wanted to accomplish before I turned thirty.

And then wouldn’t you know it … I got offered a free trip to Fiji! Mission accomplished, as the say.

And I have accomplished so many other goals that make me feel good about turning thirty this year. But that’s a whole ‘nother blog post, that I don’t feel like writing right now. Blaiohfhvhweahfe8yrr98tu49jrifjdhih <— that's what this blog post is. Just sort of shaking out all the shit that's rattling in my brain about this number that's looming over me in the future.

Shake it off Finley!

I'm thinking about celebrating my thirtieth birthday in Maui. I'll call it "saying aloha to 30." But then again, wouldn't I rather spend that day getting wasted out of my mind with all my close friends … who can't afford to fly to Maui for me AGAIN?

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I'll figure it out … I have seven months to figure it out.

Anyone else out there wrestled with the big three oh and came out a champion? I’d love to hear from ya.

It’s been a rough week

18 Jun 2010 1 Comment

by meganfinley in me

So if you haven’t been able to guess from my recent twitter bitchings, I’m having a rough time. I won’t go into too many details, but I will say, I’m overwhelmed with what I’ve taken on with my photography gigs, I’m having some major issues with self esteem mostly because of the photography gigs but mostly from just being a human being on planet Earth, my family is undergoing some MASSIVE changes that all will come to a head and then never be the same again by the end of the month, and I’m having some personal problems on top of all of this. Needless to say, if I’ve been distant, if I’ve been unavailable, if I’ve seemed “off” or moody or just downright sad, it’s because of a culmination of bad days upon bad days upon even WORSE days and the shit stream goes on for miles in either direction. What I mean to say is, this badness doesn’t seem to have an end.

Wow. I sound really depresso. This is not a cry for help by any means, it’s just a… head’s up, I guess. A head’s up that if I seem not myself, it’s because I’m NOT. And I guess this is also a request to please bare with me and my mood swings while I try to sort all this shit out.

Also, I wrote this at 5am after being awake ALL night except for the hour I slept and was awoken by the sounds of a woman screaming as if she were being attacked, only to have her laugh it off after scream number 3. It scared the shit out of me and I wasn’t able to go back to sleep. I blame the Lakers.