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Dirty Sean

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Dirty Sean

Category Archives: Dirty’s Reports

Zoom Zoom.

19 Saturday Jul 2014

Posted by Meagan Sean in Dirty's Reports, Human Interest

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

complaining, Dirty's Report, Personal Update, True Life

anigif_enhanced-buzz-9161-1389048860-22Another year has come and gone, another birthday has been spent thinking about all of the things I haven’t accomplished in my life, and another season has hit with the tenacity of this humid Maine summer.

I’m not really a control freak.  I’m actually the worst with control.  I know this because I don’t have it so I don’t bother trying to control things.  I don’t clean my room very often.  I don’t get upset if people don’t do things my way.  I don’t even drive. 

Driving a car is to me the scariest thing in the entire universe, second only to bees.  Anxiety reigns when I get behind the wheel.  My heart rate elevates, my hands start shaking, and I start to hyper focus.  What other people can do like it’s no big deal at all I find terrifying and paralyzing.  I don’t understand people who think they are safe having control over a vehicle that could easily get smashed to pieces by another bigger vehicle.  I don’t like having the responsibility of life and death in my hands.  Is that a little dramatic?  Do I care?  If you find a bee in the house, set it on fire.  The house.  With the bee inside.

But I promised my parents, those people who are trying to help me be a grown up, at the beginning of the year that I would work towards getting my license.  Since January I have been studiously avoiding the driver’s manual and making sure that I am only in the passenger’s seat of the car.  Every now and then I had lapses in concentration and read the book, or mom would annoy the crap out of me and quiz me.  Surprisingly I become a comedian when people quiz me about car stuff.  Like, I’m really funny you guys.  You’d have to be there but trust me on this: I’m hilarious.

The day after my birthday I woke up at 7 and mom drove me to the DMV so that I could take the test to get my permit.  The proctor wished me a late happy birthday.  The security guy behind him asked if he was too late to spank me.  I gave them a look.  The first guy said I wasn’t down for that.  I said no I was not.

After the eye exam I sat down at the computer with my name on the screen and started the test.  The night before I had planned on studying but instead I drank tequila and talked to a friend on the phone for over an hour.  I also didn’t even get out of work until 9:50 pm or so.  But I relied on my extensive test taking skills that I acquired from years of schooling, and I strategically answered as many questions as I could without going over the limit of wrong answers and skipped a few that I didn’t know to answer questions I did know.  Ultimately I was one of the first people finished and I got a modest 80. 

So now I have to drive. 

It’s not like there’s a set amount of hours, the proctor said that I could send in to take the test when I feel ready.  So I have 5 months to start attempting to drive like a sane human person so that I can send in for said license test. 

But I don’t like it!  And it’s so hard!  And it scares me so much you guys!  I’d rather be covered in bees while trying to eat honey, which apparently some dude did.  

In trying to power through the anxiety wall I am finding myself facing more anxiety behind the wheel.  How can people do anything while driving?  I can barely work the radio, which really pisses me off because I need some tunes always.  I forget that I have mirrors, so I just pray there’s no one on the road before I leave the driveway.  I’m not entirely understanding of the amount of space that the car takes up on the road from the driver’s seat.  I drive under the speed limit a lot.

But I’m trying. 

I know that God wants me to do it because He made me my parent’s daughter and they are quite fervent in their belief that I need to drive.  I know that He wants me to do it because He doesn’t like that I live afraid of something.  I know He wants me to put on my big girl panties and deal with driving because what everyone has told me is true, I will be able to have freedom.  But I don’t think it’s just the ability to go where I want to that will be this freedom, I think it will be God giving me a chance to work through this fear.  I’m afraid of the things I can’t control outside the car and of being unable to control it correctly myself.  If I were in the bible I would be a lazy disciple, definitely.  No wonder God is giving me another challenge. 

What I want to do is one of the most difficult things in the universe.  I want to rely not on myself but on the truth of who Christ is.  I know that if I can remember to focus on this whole driving thing as a spiritual exercise I’ll rely on Christ instead of my own ability, which is always the most comforting thing I can think of when facing stress and anxiety.  When I try to take control, lose control, whatever; the truth of the situation is that I have a savior who is waiting for me in the eye of the storm.  I’m not getting swept away like Dorothy to Oz, and I’m not going to hide in the storm cellar either.  I’m going to try to meet Him in the middle of the terrifying.  dirty

No Originality.

23 Monday Jun 2014

Posted by Meagan Sean in Dirty Little..., Dirty's Reports

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

My Philosophy

I used to think that our culture was what perpetuated the idea that if we do the same things as someone we will feel closer to them. I thought that it was just America being stupid and failing to understand that marketing is mind control. Of course, it controls my mind so I don’t know why I was such a jerk about it. But I started thinking about the times that we decide to copy other people and why.
I met a girl who got a tattoo on her finger that is just like the one Rihanna has, because Rihanna has it. Every fashion forward girl has started growing out her eyebrows because of Cara Delevingne breaking the mold and being called beautiful. Personally I will literally look up products that celebrities use and purchase them because I am delusional and I think they make me cooler.
Then there are things like the fact that I cook the way that I do because I’ve been copying my mother for years. I make Manhattans the way that I do because it’s the way my dad makes them. I decided to change the way that I invest in people because of the way that I saw Derek invest in people. I started to change the kind of conversations I had with my female friends after having a close relationship with Tink because the way that she steered what we would talk about was edifying and encouraging, and I want to be able to be that kind of friend to others. I could go on and on and on.
But what’s the point? And why is this something that I feel the need to do, trying to be like other people?
When I think about why I copy other people I find that I am desiring to either feel closer to them or be them. I don’t cut corners people, when I look at how I choose to repeat behaviors and actions that I saw someone else do I realize that I feel like I could be them, or like they are with me. Is that weird? Or, is it the way I was made? What if there is something in me that needs to do what someone else does in order to feel a connection with them? Does that make me damaged?
I don’t think so.

For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps.  (1 Peter 2:21)

It sounds like maybe Christ knew that I like to copy other people.

…to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness. (Ephesians 4:22-24)

It sounds like this guy is telling me to stop being quite so much like myself and to start acting more like someone else.

Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. (Ephesians 5:1&2)

That sounds like an explicit command from someone smarter than me that is telling me to become more like Christ. I see a trend. I wonder, since God created me and knew even all the way back “in the beginning” that I would be born into sin and would never be able to be perfect on my own… Maybe He really did make me this way? Maybe He knew that I was born to be a copycat and was faithful to make it into a tool in my relationship with Him. Maybe God even designed me to be this way on purpose, so that I would find it easier to follow Christ because all I have to do is whatever he does to feel closer to Him, which in turn God sees as me being more like Him.

Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. (Matthew 11:29)

Whatever the case, I feel pretty comfortable following that command. dirty

Chronicles of Don’t: Arrested.

19 Monday May 2014

Posted by Meagan Sean in Chronicles of Don't, Dirty's Reports

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Tags

Chronicles of Don't, inappropriate, True Life

ALCOHOLWhen I was in college there was nothing I enjoyed as much as a good party. These were the days before I found my favorite drunk activity: un-friending people on Facebook and forgetting about it the next morning. I was the girl who talked to everyone, who danced on sofas, who played beer pong really badly but kept on trying. I didn’t get a rep as a party girl in the way that some girls did because I didn’t party with the frats or sports teams. I partied with the people I enjoyed spending time with sober.
Issues arose, however, one fateful night in the end of January during my junior year when the party I was at got busted and I got arrested for underage drinking. I am not proud of that, but I’m not ashamed either. I was breaking the law and I got what I deserved. The punishment fit the crime (har-dee-har-har). I don’t suggest that anyone break the law if they can help it, but I will add that if you are going to get arrested you might want to do it like I did. Because I thought the entire thing was hilarious.
The party I was at got busted because my friend was yelling at his girlfriend in the driveway of the house in the residential neighborhood where the party was held. He was very drunk, and I was attempting to get there. I ended up trying to talk to him inside, and I recall that he was crying and being upset and whatnot. I tried to be supportive, but I was sort of not listening. Then my friend, whose party it was, came up to me and said “Megs! Are you 21?”
“No.”
“OK, the cops are here…you gotta go. When you leave go out front through the front yard.”
“OK!”
I get up and talk to a few more people, put on my pink moon boots and my black pea coat and leave. I followed his directions, leaving through the back door and turning right at the end of the driveway to go through the front yard. What he hadn’t mentioned was the foot of snow that had accumulated and the enormous hill of plowed snow in the middle of the yard. I sort of shrugged and started across the yard, snow getting in the pink moon boots, and made it possibly 6 feet across when a flashlight beam hit me, and someone told me to stop and turn around. So I did.
I trekked back through the snow and talked to the flashlight-wielding policemen.
“You, have you been drinking?”
“Yes.”
”How old are you?”
“20.”
“And how much have you been drinking?”
“Too much because I’m not 21 so I shouldn’t be drinking at all!”
I laughed. The cops looked at each other.
“OK, why don’t you wait here with officer *white-noise*.”
“OK!”
It was pretty cold, and I just stood there fidgeting for a minute before informing the officer that I could get really upset about being arrested or see it all as a joke and keep my buzz, at which point he told me to go wait in the cop car.
Inside the car I discovered a girl I played tennis with freshman year freaking out because her 16-year-old boyfriend who was on parole and didn’t have a license was currently driving around the neighboring town to avoid getting pulled over. Then she informed me that they were engaged, and I congratulated them because I didn’t care. I took a minute to call my mom, since the police didn’t take my phone, and she was rather surprised (understatement) and told me not to say anything and she would call my friend whom I had gone to the party with who was still inside. Another passenger showed up shortly, the girlfriend of the party-thrower. It was freezing and I was sitting in the middle of them with any belt buckle devices that could have been useful shoved where they didn’t need to be, but I talked to the girlfriend about what was going to happen and who got arrested. She was explaining to us about this kid we’ll call Grant, and how the cops couldn’t hold him because he was of age and didn’t have anything on him. Then we heard some shouting behind us, so we all watched out the back of the car as Grant was released to get out of there, at which time he yelled some inappropriate things to the officers and they straight up pepper sprayed him in the face and arrested him. It’s like the situation was the definition of “Well that escalated quickly.” My reaction was something along the line of “Well shit dude, that sucks. I have to pee.”
We were driven to the police department, where I was allowed to use the bathroom alone. Apparently the police department was going through renovations because it had 2 or 3 chairs in the waiting area and looked like it was in the middle of renovations. Because of this the cells were not finished, so instead of being forced to pee in front of any and all girls in the cell with me, which is how things went down with friends who got arrested in the future, I got the enjoy the privacy of the cramped bathroom by myself. Winning!
(Another interesting thing I learned about this police department after the entire process was that they didn’t have to read you Miranda rights. I don’t remember the reasons, but I looked it up when I realized that they never read me mine. In fact I wasn’t cuffed or anything, they just did paperwork on me.)
When I went out to the seating area there were more kids from my school there in different levels of unhappiness. I turned to a kid I knew and started talking to him, which apparently was a bad idea because he was super angry and I sounded like a cheerleader at a pep squad rally.
“Hey, how are you!? It’s been a while, how’s your night been? Oh, not talking to me? OK!”
This kid was not having it. He started going off about how he only had one beer and that they got him for having beer in his backpack. I was very sympathetic.
Things got quiet again and I turned to a girl I’d had a class with and we started talking about her absolutely killer high heels, which was nice because everyone else was being all upset and I wasn’t having it. I covertly pulled out my phone, texted my mom, and started playing Tetris.  Grant showed up and started talking to the entire room about civil rights and how he was going to make his family sue the cops, which I didn’t expect to happen but he was all fired up.
I was called in to be processed for internal possession, and blew a .14 on the breathalyzer. The officer said that I was very put together for how drunk I was, and I smiled and thanked him. Having listened to my mother’s advice about being quiet I answered any and all questions, then started chatting with the officer about how his wife was from Bangor, Maine, and then I showed him my tattoos. I only had two at the time, but I was quite proud of them!
The worst part of the experience was not that I had to wait in the seating area sitting on the cement floor, or that I was getting really tired and desperately needed a cigarette… It was hearing my mother’s best friend’s voice when she came to pick me up.
My mother, in a panic, had decided to call her friend who lived 45 minutes from where I was in school. This woman is wonderful and I love her dearly, but she has a strong Italian/Boston accent, and for a 5 foot nothing little spitfire with big hair she can sure command a room.
She started yelling at me as soon as I was in the car.
“What are you doing getting arrested? I told you to have fun in college, I didn’t say to get arrested!”
I was exhausted, but thankfully the ride was under 5 minutes to my dorm. And when I pulled out a cigarette when I got out of the car to give her a hug…
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING SMOKING? ARE YOU KIDDING, DO YOU REMEMBER HOW MUCH WEIGHT I GAINED WHEN I QUIT?”
“Uh, do you want one?”
“NO! GO TO BED, I’M CALLING YOUR MOTHER. LOVE YOU.”
So she left me to smoke a cigarette and call my mom. I found out later that she had told my mother that I looked wicked cute and was surrounded by black guys and I was definitely going to have sex with one of them. She’s a little dramatic.
After talking to my mom I started to freak out and called my best friend from high school to cry. It wasn’t until then that I started to process the night appropriately, but I’m fine with that. I would have been a hot mess of tears and snot had I started to take it seriously before I got home, and I didn’t have tissues on me.
So that’s the story. I had to go in and get my urine tested for 12 weeks and take a FAST class (alcohol prevention) to get the charge sealed or expunged or whatever. It’s funny, when I fill out job applications I always ask the person if I should put it down in the area that asks about being arrested and they usually say no. In fact, most of the people I ask basically wave it off like it’s nothing. Now, that doesn’t mean I would do it again, by any means. But I will say that I am proud of the fact that I didn’t just get arrested for underage drinking, I didn’t let getting arrested stop me from trying to enjoy my night and annoy the crap out of the grumpy people I was stuck with.tumblr_m4whtp4M8m1r2ow8b
dirty

On Patience (of which I have none)

12 Monday May 2014

Posted by Meagan Sean in Dirty Little..., Dirty's Reports

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Nugget 'O Truth

testing
One of the most important things I’ve ever learned is how to pray for patience. Here’s my advice: Don’t.
Patience is the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset, and it is not always my forte. I don’t like to tolerate or accept things that I know are stupid and unnecessary. I try to get them to stop and then I become angry, and then things go south pretty quickly.
The issue with praying for patience is that God likes to grant prayers. That’s not usually a bad thing, but what people don’t realize is that He will answer by giving you so many opportunities to use the patience He’s giving you that you might go crazy. It’s like working out, you have to start building up the muscle and chipping away at the fat by challenging yourself at the gym. So God let’s your patience muscle get challenged all the time so that you can develop it.

Whoever is patient has great understanding,
but one who is quick-tempered displays folly.
(Proverbs 14:29)

We should be praying for patience, even though I’m telling you not to. It’s a fruit of the spirit, which Christians are supposed to have, and it leads to “great understanding”, as stated above. Even more enlightening, being quick-tempered basically turns you into an idiot. If you think I’m wrong, check out the next person with road rage you’re stuck in traffic with. They look and sound stupid.
I’ve had many experiences when my patience has been tested, and I am glad that God has been able to pull me through some of them without letting me look like too much of a fool. Of course, that being said, plenty of times I looked a damn fool. Sometimes I feel that impatience is a selfish thing, and when I check myself before I wreck myself I find that my reasoning behind impatience are prideful to the max. Other times I find my reasons that I can feel are justified to be rooted in anxiety and fear. But when I try to check my heart and feelings of pride and insecurity at the door so that God can develop this patience muscle, I discover a different perspective. When I’m running late I remember that God’s timing is perfect, and above my understanding. When I want to cut someone apart with a knife or words but instead give it to God I find myself being filled with more love for that person. And when I find myself trying to speed bake a pizza instead of preheating the oven correctly, I find the crust isn’t crispy enough.
Can you relate? What are some experiences you’ve had with patience, or lack there of?
dirty

Thoughts on Demi Lovato

24 Thursday Apr 2014

Posted by Meagan Sean in Dirty's Reports, Human Interest

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

celeb, Dirty's Report, Human Interest, Other People's Work

rolemodelIt’s rare for a teen idol to be a role model. It’s especially rare for a teen idol to be a role model for an extended period of time. We have Lindsay Lohan in and out of rehab, and claiming to have miscarriages. Rihanna looked pretty good there for a little while but then she got beaten up by her boyfriend and decided to give her image an overhaul, including whips and chains. Miley Cyrus started out as a wholesome girl from the south, then did a 180 and decided to become a hypocritical hip-hop princess, smoking massive amounts of weed and telling the world about how Molly (MDMA) is a super fun social drug. Can I get a “Yuck”?
Basically I’m pretty unimpressed with most of the women who are in role model positions these days. I don’t think young girls need to be absorbing positive messages about drinking, having a bajillion boyfriends, divorce, drugs, or whatever the new trendy diet is. There are so many influential celebrities out there who seem to be using their platforms to market a lifestyle that isn’t appropriate.
Thankfully there are celebrities that have proven their worth by being honest with their fans about what kind of life fame has built for them. Demi Lovato has told her fans and the world as much as she can about her struggles since going to rehab in 2010 for substance abuse, eating disorders, and self-harm. In a time when a lot of celebrities keep their insecurities and character flaws to themselves, Lovato has been humble and open about her issues in order to give her fan base a stronger, healthier role model.


While it’s easy to feel disconnected from a superstar, I’ve found Lovato to be one of the few that I feel I can trust. Having battled myself with self-harm in the past I find myself able to relate to her, and hearing her say in interviews that making the right decisions is difficult, and that mental and emotional health is something to strive toward every day doesn’t sound to me like a phony, preachy celebrity. Lovato sounds like the girl I would want as my sponsor if I were fresh out of a rehab center. We would be able to have some real talk, she would obviously be excellent at sportively reminding me to check myself before I wreck myself, and then we’d eat lunch and talk about boys and fashion and her crazy tour schedule… I’d even let her help me pick out a new tattoo. Okay, basically I’d totally be her BFF if I had the chance.
The fact is, I know for a fact that she’s cool. My second cousin, Maggi, (AKA the most adorable girl in the world) got the chance to quickly meet Lovato at LAX, right after these photos were taken, and she has kindly let me share her story here about what it was like to meet one of her role models.

“I really like Demi. I’ve liked her since she was on Sonny with a Chance. I think she is an amazing person for being able to admit her struggles and being so open about them. She is a great role model. I used to self-harm, and it was amazing to be able to look up to her and see that even a celebrity wasn’t happy with herself but was able to get help. I love how she says what she thinks and sticks up for herself. I also love how although she had an eating disorder, she is recovered and now curvier than some other female celebrities and accepts her curves.
I was at LAX for a flight home, and she was catching a flight to Brazil. She and I were at security at the same time. She was actually being patted down! I wasn’t 100% sure it was her, but I saw her “Stay Strong” tattoos on her wrists and I knew it was her. When I went up to ask her for a picture, her bodyguard or whatever he was shook his head at me and said “no, not today.” I turned to Demi and said “I’m really sorry, I don’t mean to be annoying but I was wondering if I could get a picture with you.”
She made a face at him, came over to me, and said “he’s got a stick up his ass. Don’t worry about it.” I only got one picture because of how hard I was shaking, but she put up bunny ears behind my head that I didn’t get in the picture. She smiled at me and as she was walking away she turned around and said, “It was nice meeting you!” She was really sweet! I kept freaking out because she has been such a role model to me with her self-harm. I wish I had gotten the chance to tell her that or ask her for a hug, but by the time I got my brain together she was already gone.”

See what I mean? I would totally BFF her. And here for your viewing pleasure, the adorable Maggi and Demi Lovato.
10168101_488607387932342_8000904083476151277_n
dirty

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Who, me?


I consider myself an eccentric who looks good in jeans, or an amateur at adulthood. I live in Maine, enjoy writing and photography as creative outlets, and listen to some of the worst music you've ever heard. I’m good at sin and bad at following Christ, but I’m still letting Him take the lead. Dirty is my middle name. So is Sean.
The purpose of this blog is to keep a record while I'm unearthing treasures, mapping truths, and navigating life.

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