it is not the wondering that gets you. it is not the time spent with this person rattling around in your head like ancient, calcifying bones that never quite turn to dust. it is not the hours working over what went wrong or where it went wrong or how

Miss C dates nothing but bike guys. mountain bikers and street bikers and guys who work in shops, changing chains and pumping tires and fixing bearings. she doesn't go looking for them, has never met them at a ride or as they're pedaling down the str

there has only been one time in my life when someone has made me feel alive and electrified and in love, and only for a moment. on the other hand, I have racks and racks of plastic discs that make me feel like that for three minutes at a time, and wh

today my mother emailed me, with the best of intentions:[So-and-so] works with someone who she thinks would be a great match for you. What do you think about her doing an email introduction? You two could do a little informal chat and see if there

after reading the New York Observer's emo boy article, a coworker sent me an older, but similar, NY Post article, "NYC Men: Kids in a Candy Store". "In New York, dating must be relegated to an allotted slot - along with walking the

"But this new breed of sensitive straight guy is tricky. He looks masculine enough, in a scruffy, tending-toward-boyish way. But he’s vulnerable, emotional, subject to mood swings and fits of self-searching. He talks about his feelings. A lot.

it's funny how amorphous attraction is. how mood and time and environment and weather can all conspire to make you either naseous and happy and giddily muddled or bored and calm and despairingly unimpressed. how, if the wind is blowing and the light

he fell off the roof. right off, down two stories. we heard a series of small crashes a few feet away from where we were sitting, cross-legged, drinking our stolen beers. his friends, equally drunk, tentatively leaned over the edge of the roof to get

it's just as easy to assume she's not madly in love with you as it is to assume she is. trust me; ultimately it's way less stressful for everyone involved.

a week had passed since I'd last seen the cutest boy in new york and I was getting restless. I'd risked my job, getting to work later and later as I lingered on the subway platform, hoping to see him running for the train, and for what? the cutest b

we stood in the middle of the Strand, surrounded by stack after stack of books. books pushing against precarious handmade shelves, books testing the limits of overstuffed wooden tables, books brushing the dusty ceiling. so many books, blending int

you don't see him.you see him and you're not impressed.you see him and you are impressed. He is not.you see him and you're impressed and he's impressed but you circle around and around, both positive that the other person does not feel anything

five weeks ago I saw the cutest boy in new york on the subway, and he saw me, and not-so-furtive glances were exchanged. there he was the next day too, getting on the train where I did, getting off the train where I did, both of us too silly and ba

on tuesday I saw the cutest boy in new york on the subway. he was waiting at my work stop, standing exactly where I usually stand, all bashful glances and shaggy hair. I continued to read my zine and tried hard to keep my glances furtive. he got on t

last last weekend, on the phone with laurel:Meg: I hate going on first dates and meeting people. It's so awkward and I'm always worried about what's going to happen next and saying something dumb. (long pause) Actually, do you know what my biggest fe

you make me want to write down words that turn into sentences that turn into stories until the sun comes up and shines down on the black ink staining the paper. you make me want to cut and paste until my fingers are stuck to my clothes are

yes, true, he is not the boy for me and I am not the girl for him and we knew that a long time ago. it was planned that way. still, for four months it was nice to belong to someone. have a safe trip home Mummy Boy.

Five lessons learned this weekend5. before going out to play softball for seven hours on a sunny day, apply sunscreen.4. also, stretch3. never chase a 40 oz with a fifth of Jack2. art galleries are closed on mondays. as is the Central Park carousel.

so Mummy Boy leaves town in two weeks to hitchhike around the country and not work and polish his anarchist tendencies. with the end of my winter fling within sight, the countdown to me becoming more neurotic and boy-obsessed again has officially b

Three Nicknames I've Been Given3. megatron2. miss megan1. little megThree I Wish I Hadn't3. princess contessa2. vulgarity gerrity1. buttonsI'm Not Sure What All The Hype's About: BandsTV on the RadioPretty Girls Make GravesRyan AdamsI'm Not Sure W

this morning I opened up my in-box and found an email from my ex-boyfriend. or rather, from my ex-fiance. (oh yeah, that's right boys, I'm marriage material! ooowww!)um, anyway. besides being filled with the usual hi-how-are-you-how's-the-weather ple

I forgot to add in the "things that were cool" column that Mummy Boy let me cut his hair this weekend. this was a big deal for me, since I've had secret dreams of being a hairdresser since I was a little Meg Danger. I'm not sure why I thin

the okcupid.com test has proven chillingly accurate, at least according to the friends who have taken the test and reported back. in the spirit of love, romance, and the site's assertion that I am "the most prone to sudden, ferocious crushes&qu

Mummy Boy and I are watching people dance the night away. a particularly skinny hipster walks by.Me: that kid used to be in a Smiths cover band. (pause) he used to dance with boys and girls. (pause) by which I mean, he swings both ways. (pause) by

want and want and want and want and want and want and want and want and want and want and want and want and have...and want.