Not Before Coffee

Take me to the Skies!

2011-10-12T21:56:00.000-07:00

I am not the type of person to follow after the trend, actually I tend to bolt in the opposite direction anytime something is proclaimed "the new thing."

I decided to wear nothing but sports bras when Victoria's Secret hit its sultry peak in the underapparel retail industry, I got up a 6am to watch Flipper and I love Lucy while classmates were glued in front of Sesame street and Barney, and I stopped reading Harry Potter when the rest of the world decided to draw Sharpie scars on their foreheads and chafe their asses on broomsticks.

Needless to say, Law and Order did not make me want to own a gun and Grey's Anatomy did not make me want to waste half my life in medical school only to deal with depressed and complaining sick people (give or take the occasional junkie trying to weasel some pain meds). Despite my aversion to active conformity, the new show Pan Am? Makes being a stewardess look like THE SHIT!

Ba-Na-Nas

2011-07-11T22:42:00.001-07:00

Sooo my grandparents read my blog now. I feel proud of myself for exposing my grandfather to the top notch quality television that is The Bachelorette. I'm so glad to be personally responsible for destroying what little faith previous generations ever had in the intellect of today's media culture.

In other relational news, my grandmother wants me to help her write the story about her life. Why? Because she thinks my editorial skills will serve to make it "less sad." I'm not entirely sure if she realizes that the offsetting of depressing life lessons with humor will most likely come at the expense of caricatur-izing like ninety percent of my distant and not so distant relatives. As if I wasn't the big potty-mouthed black sheep already.

Will I do it? Obviously.

I adore my grandparents. I have recently introduced them to the wonders of Japanese cuisine. My grandmother loves spider rolls, but only if there's no seaweed. This is because as a little girl I guess her and her twin had to catch clams in the bay and they had to walk on seaweed, which totally grosses her out now. I just don't understand this...I mean, when I was little I got mauled by nasty lake geese every time I went out back and let me just tell you I derive GREAT pleasure from eating any kind of poultry I can get my hand on. In fact...birds and fish are the only protein I WILL eat. And that infamous last scene from A Christmas Story? When they end up at a Chinese restaurant and they chop off the duck's head at the table? best fucking part of the whole damn movie if you ask me. And I'm also pretty sure if I had a history of stepping on snails barefoot like my mom, I'd make a monthly habit of ordering myself some of the finest escargot from whatever online grocery industry I can Google coupons for.

Speaking of snails, does anyone watch the Rachel Zoe Project? It's a Bravo show about Rachel Zoe the stylist. Anyways, they went to Paris and ordered escargot... But can I just also say that she stole like half of my catch phrases? what the heck. She already has the dream job, what appears to be an unlimited Starbucks Card account, a straight husband AND a gay faux-husband (I feel like every girl needs someone with great fashion sense to tell her she looks fabulous and she pees glitter and sunshine)...she does not need my witty vices! I'm about ready to write her a letter...

Dearest Ms. Zoe,
Congratulations on wrapping your third season of The Rachel Zoe project without once eating a meal or setting down your coffee; your health habits are an inspiration for young fashionistas everywhere. While I adore you, your job, and most importantly-your closet, I have to question the derivatives of your quirky vernacular. Surely you did not come up with phrases like "shut the front door," "I die," or "ba-na-nas." I mean, since your creative mind clearly has loaned itself to so many other venues...it is blatantly obvious that you have been reading my blog (and listening to a bit too much "No Doubt").
There is really no need for an apology; however, I wouldn't turn down the tranny heels you wore in season 2 episode 5 should they so happen to appear in my mail box sometime early next month-ish.
Best, M
PS-You can keep "ba-na-nas" if you would like, I think Gwen Stefani has legal claims to that one anyways.

Texting with Megan

2011-07-04T15:17:00.000-07:00

The following is an excerpt from a textual conversation carried on throughout the course of the day. Correspondent will remain anonymous for his own protection. My contributions would be those in italics...with the east coast area code. Obv.

(978)I think i just encountered the only people in the world who have never
ordered from starbucks before.

(978)Omg this woman, i shit you not, "i'll have one of THAT with extra
drizzlies. in size extra large.

Strangle her
Our first meet could be spent disposing of the body haha

(978)You know of any good spots? I used my last two on the kids who crossed the
street too slowly last week.

I actually know how to make every drink at starbucks. My old roomie worked
there for yeaaaars. I read the books.

(978)My friend and i made a pact to work there at least once before we die. Its
on my bucket list.

It's a a pointless claim to fame.
I'm thinking woodchipper and cement in a barrel. We can pretend we are rediculously loaded (south beach style) and rent a yacht, get blitzed off wine and just push it off. Someone would probably make a movie about us one day... But since we are badass we'd never get caught.

(978)We'd have to disintegrate the teeth somehow...Dental records ALWAYS fuck
things up.

Easy. Cut the head off. Hydrochloric acid. We can toss the hands in there to. Dad is a retired popo :)

(978)Awesome! And i've been watching law and order since i was 6. No lie.

Oh god. the world is doomed.

(978)Seriously. Especially if i end up going to law school instead of getting
my ph.D

Don't do it... You'll have a heart attack...Too much stres haha
Be my sidekick instead.
More fun

(978)Hmmm...Tempting. What are the company benefits?

You make your own benefits. Better than working at google.
I know...you're speechless cause it's so awesome
Sounds too good to be true.

(978)Its does indeed...I'm mentally calculating all the debt in school loans
i'll be saving myself.

School is often overated. Make sure you use what you learn... I mean, you could easily read a bunch of books/call yourself a therapist and become a life coach and make over 100k a year.
Phone is gonna kill itself soon, I'll text you later :/

(978) Can i sing "on angel's wings" at your
phone's funeral ceremony?

(978)...Im taking your silence as positive affirmation of my hymn singing.

Bahaha
Not only can we shoot together...But if I get you over my shy side we can sing too...I was a chior kid.

(978)I used to perform with theater companies, ive sung at two
weddings and a funeral.

(978) That can be our epic cover story! We're can call our band "snipers" or
something.

(978)...Or "mr. & mrs. Smith"...Although id hate to formally associate myself
to a film so infamous for its homewrecking costars.

(978)It would give our assansin business a bad vibe.

(978)I'm just sayin', people might not hire us if they thought we were going to
sleep with their spouse instead of murder them.
Yep. That's How I roll.

Back!

2011-06-14T18:32:00.001-07:00

OOOh goodness I believe it has been almost a year since my last post...I've tended to keep my humor down to 140 characters and facebook status appropriate for the time being. However, seeing as THE BACHELORETTE! is back on...I couldn't help but divulge my true feelings about the chosen contestant and her bachelors.

First of all, the reason Ashley was given the boot from the final three women on last season's Bachelor was due to her constant need for approval from the bachelor, Brad. And despite her effervescent claim at the beginning of this season regarding her "epiphany of confidence and openness to vulnerability;" she still bleeds 'love-me-hold-me-need-me-want-me.'

As a chick, I find this almost repulsive to witness. First of all, drama set in instantly with this dude Bentley. Apparently she got a text about the guy from his ex warning her...which, hello, only makes her want him more. He is literally the first bachelorette contestant to openly badmouth the bachelorette to all of the camera crew, and in every private interview. The only thing he talks about is wanting to win...oh ya, and the fact that Ashley is ugly and he can't believe he got stuck with her as the bachelorette...but luckily she's dense and falls for everything he says. After three weeks he finally decides he can't feign the attraction anymore, so he states to the cameras "I have to go...I'm going to make Ashley cry...I hope my hair looks ok."

But it doesn't end there...he tells her he's leaving because he can't bear the time away from his daughter (who he doesn't even have custody of, btw), but he would like to keep the relationship open... " let's leave it with a dot, dot, dot" so basically, if you leave this show with one of these other lame-asses ad you want a good F*** every now and then hit me up, I guess I could shut my eyes.

So now...she's bawling. For like half of the next episode. And every episode since she has mentioned how much she " just can't stop thinking about bentley," "just can't help wondering what it would be like if Bentley were on this date." Biotch is going to go home when the show wraps and have to curl up ever Monday night with a friggen pint of Ben and Jerry's finest and cry her tears of shame.

They went to Thailand on one of the group dates to help rebuild an orphanage for the kids who lost parents during some 2004 natural disaster...when she walks into the room and asks why the guys aren't flirting with her-they think they're impressing her by focusing all their effort on painting, planting, etc...-little do they know the only thing they have to do to impress this chick is pat her knee and tell her how her eyes are like little rainbows emanating songs of happiness and glee.

Lets take her one-on-one with Lucas...who begins every sentence with, "you are so beautiful and charismatic," and ends with, "and I can't believe someone like you is falling for me." Her assessment of him? "I really like southern gentlemen...and Lucas strikes me as a southern gentleman." ANOTHER ROSE GOES TO THE BROWNEST NOSE!

I can't say that I'm the spitting image of confidence by any means...but if you have to ask every single guy on a date why they like you or what makes them think you're the shit? You are going to bug the fuck out of them...and out of me, for that matter. Ladies we need to learn that you cannot rely on any man for your sense of self. What if your man is in a bad mood? Is it going to make you think that suddenly your ass got too fat? What if your crush doesn't compliment you once on that funny you just made? Are you going to have to go home and dye your hair black to the sound track of Ani Difranco? (Well, no, not if your Ashley apparently...in which case you would pull him aside and drill him on whether or not he was attracted to you and please list my positive qualities alphabetically thankyouverymuch).

*Sigh*
Here's a brief clip of the infamous bachelor villain...and no, he wasn't even the one who wore the mask for the first three episodes (yes, that totally DID happen.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0I_NbXEPVYw&feature=related

Thoughts for the Day

2010-12-11T10:52:00.000-08:00

Ya, i'm a vegtarian; however, i do eat seafood...not so much for all the health benifits as it is due to the fact that i hold fish personally responsible for being the sole premise for one of the world's most boring of pastimes...i would also probably start eating golf balls if i didn't highly doubt that they taste nearly as good dipped in wasabi.

Vitamin Water: For when you're too old for Kool-Aid, and too lazy to admit it's anything but sugar water. I drink Vitamin Water Zero at the gym...not because I'm too old or too cool, but because they have yet to create a diet kool-aid.

So last night I was reintroduced to someone I supposedly already knew. While managing to smile and convincingly falsify a conversation of reminiscence, ending the little chat with "nice to meet you..?" Not the best way to go. Cover blown.

Ok...um, hi...? If I honk at you, and you wave at me? You are not getting a full five-fingered wave in return. Just a heads up.

At the gym: "Damn girl! Can I work out with you?"..."Um, no. But I might I redirect you to the cougar in the lepoard print push up bra and spandex who appears to be having too much fun on the stationary bike?"

You can't judge someone till you've walked in their shoes. But you can usually judge them pretty easily *by* their shoes.

I love when labels say: "Zero Grams of Trans Fat!" That's kinda like throwing a party because you didn't kill anyone today.

Mission Decontaminate & Judge

2010-11-02T22:15:00.000-07:00

Good GOD it's been forever and a day since I've last updated this little piece o' crap. To all FIVE of my beloved, committed (it helps a bit just to tell myself this, no corrections necessary) followers; I apologize for all those edge-of-the-seat moments when you clicked the link to my blog and awaited a new culturally and socially enlightening post only to be let down, yet again.

I'm going to begin with the gym and such afore alluded to "socially enlightening" moments. I would like to this of this one particular experience as, perhaps, biblically enlightening, circa the verse that goes a little something like "take that log out of your eye before telling someone else that they fucked up."

Essentially, the pot and kettle tale (I play the part of both quite flawlessly, FYI. I even died my hair black to allow for versatility between roles).

So after my workout I had to get ready to go to an interview for Victoria's Secret (I did not get that job, and am therefore boycotting the store...but just the store, I still have free reign of their judgement free website and catalog). After braving the 24 hour fitness showers I set up my myriad of Tresseme and Sephora goodies and proceeded to speed through my "megan puts on face and accosts hair until it has only enough life left to lie flat sans frizz."

Next to me, I notice a woman doing pretty much the same thing. I have a habit of noticing those getting ready next to me...I like to see what makeup and/or hair products they use and use and try to evaluate effectiveness (I have consequently learned never to purchase covergirl lipstain, "falsies" mascara, or any blush in the form of a "stick").

So this woman moves through her routine with such vigilance and precision that (obviously) I had to watch what the hell type of surgical operation was taking place at the other end of the counter. She proceeds to grab a bunch of paper towels and sets them next to her bag, from which she pulls out her own, personal bottle of Lysol (cause normal people TOTALLY stroll around with their own favorite disinfectant in their purse. Obv). So she sprays down her half of the counter ('cause I'll be damned if I'm moving all my shit of the surface just so she can make sure it's squeaky clean). Then she breaks off one square of the paper towel, sprays it, takes a bottle of face cleanser out of her purse, and wipes it down. Rips of another square, sprays it, wipes down bottle of facial exfoliater. Rip, spray, wipe, repeat. At least five products later, she finally turns on the water.

Seriously?

I shit you not. Unfortunately I did not have time to stay for the grande finale (which I assume would consist of some sort of facial purification ritual worthy of its own Bravo miniseries) because I had to leave for that stupid, stupid waste of breath interview (no. I'm totally not bitter. At all. Clearly.)

As I was packing my stuff, and turning to leave this woman turns to me and says, "you're here often."

It was almost accusatory. No, it was TOTALLY accusatory. Like I should be ashamed that working out consistently ranks higher on my personal to-do list than disinfecting everything in a ten mile radius.

I turned on my heel to face her, gave her the "oh really?" look, nodded to her collection of used paper towel squares and replied..."ya. I must have OCD or something."

So, in conclusion today's Bible lesson:
"cast out first the antiseptic out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to call out the redundancy of thy brother's exercise regime"
(Megan 1:267.5)

(Don't worry; I totally just said, like, three Our Father's after writing that last statement...just in case God reads blogs in His free time).

_{This tale brought to you via Megan's laptop from its favorite Starbucks table at the local Barnes and Nobles. (Wherefrom they just paged two employees to "the nook"...secret bookseller spy fort? I think yes).}

Guilt

2010-08-27T13:36:00.001-07:00

"Hyssop for cough. Rosemary for fever. A sprig of mint to cleanse ill humors from the mouth. Slippery elm for the mid-wife. Horse chestnut for stiffness of limb. Golden bough for palsy. But what is the cure for rage? Chamomile can calm. Perhaps with enough of that and a strong physic of black powder and salts it can be purged from the body. What of a restless mind that will not sleep at its appointed hour? A pillow of lavender or a sleeping draught made of equal parts of rum and water with sweet balm will suffice.

And what finally of the tortures of a guilty soul? What concoction is there to be chewed and swallowed and downed in the belly to force the poison of self-recrimination back through the pores in the skin? In what organ of the body does it reside? A seeping wound can be bound. Salve can be dabbed to a burn or a swelling bubo. Poison can be drawn with a leech, or a lance. But guilt is a ghost that takes the shape of the body it inhabits and consumes all that is tender within its shell: brain, bowels, and heart. I cannot pluck it out like a splinter of glass or treat it with herbal brews."

-an excerpt from "The Heretic's Daughter"

Tree Pose

2010-08-05T19:41:00.000-07:00

So, I am totally not above Google-ing more unique words for blog posts and blog post titles...I really wanted to title of this post to be something along the lines of "obsessive"...so I went to Thesaurus.com. I just want to say that the advertisement? On the top of the page for synonyms to "obsessions" was an ad for a Starbucks product. They KNOW me.

Anyhow...obsessions: aside from coffee, I have now turned over a new "inner peace" leaf. I have fully delved into the practice of yoga...granted, I always reboot with afore mentioned previous obsession. (And FYI? I did not have to Google "delve"...I've used it during Words With Friends PLENTY of times thankyouverymuch).

So after deciding to throw myself fully into the practice of yoga, I printed out schedules, pricing, and class descriptions for every studio within a 25 mile radius. At the time, I was a bit uninformed about the different types of yoga. I totally should have referenced Google. But no, of course I just decided to jump right in to the cheapest, and most locationally pleasing, class. Bikram.

First of all, Ms. Trunchbull circa the 1996 classic "Matilda" is sitting at the front desk waiting for me...keeping true to character by leaking Rorschachesque sweat blots straight through every article of clothing she (somehow) squeezed in to. Well, at least she can't judge me on my ill fitting sweatpants and little sister's workout shirt (this was, obviously, before I decided to also delve into the forever21 fitness apparel section. $6.00 yoga pants? Yes please!). SO after introducing me to the studio's lockers, rest rooms, and line of overpriced workout-wear, she proceeded to welcome me to the practice of Bikram yoga. Ohhhhmmmmm.

"You are going to want to leave the room."
"Whatever you do, don't leave the room."
"You can always just take child's pose...but don't. Leave. The. Room."

Oh SHIT. This is that hot yoga thing isn't it?

I will NEVER admit defeat,so I went ahead and bought myself the biggest water bottle they had...and entered what, I swear, was a steam room made specifically for SATAN.

It wasn't actually that bad...but I didn't feel like I was getting the full effect of the yoga. Not to mention the instructor focused completely on weight loss and "enduring pain" and shit. The poses were too basic, and aside from annoying thoughts of "I hope I don't hyperventilate," it was a bit boring.

So I have since moved on.

Starbucks Fail

2010-07-10T19:23:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I'm just not in the mood to be nice.

For those of you thinking that afore mentioned "nice-less sometimes" is actually 24/7? You're wrong. There are times when I adore talking to people, and meeting new people...and isn't Starfucks (named for it's inability to measure up to Dunkin's) the perfect opportunity to do such a thing?

Usually.

But on on one of my bad days. Those days where my face is affixed in the nonchalant bitch stare (my face's unauthorized default position), is simply not the day to mess with me. My coffee store experience on this past Wednesday was just one of those days. Times 10.

So I got in and I order something "outside the box." (Just to preface? I am a routine oriented girl. I really can't make quick decisions to save my life so sticking with the usual is how I maintain what little sanity I have. That and coffee. Black, Tall, no room for cream, 1 equal, to be exact). But on this particular day, I spread my caffeine addict wings and ordered a grande iced coffee.

So since I usually only get a tall, hot drink...I don't really have any frame of reference for the drink I had just ordered. Honestly? The only way i know a venti is larger than a grande is by mentally scrolling through quotes from the coffee shop fight scene in the movie Role Models...where he blows up about "coffee language" and his ex states "they call it venti because it has twenty ounces. VENTI-TWENTY?!"

Anyways, they called a venti iced at the counter

And...I thought it was mine.
And...I took it.
And...I didn't really know the appropriate sweetener-to-ounce of coffee ratio so I just threw in like 6 packets.

And then...they called a grande iced and a man came in and went for it. Then told them he had ordered a venti...not a grande.

I slowly turned around, holding HIS (now totally over-Splenda'd...and; thus, probably cancer ridden) venti coffee, and staring blankly at the counter that held a grande iced with my name on it.

Oops.

While normally I would cover my coffee faux pas by apologizing profusely with a blush and a giggle, and whipping out a $5 to cover the cost of the size difference and compensate for the trouble the barista would now have to go through to make this man a venti coffee that didn't have some chick's name on it...such was not my approach of choice last wednesday.

I was tired. I was in a hurry. It was a bad day.

I felt my face freeze over into admit-no-wrong bitch mode and declared (READ: Lied) "Oh. I got the same thing. Sorry."

I did offer to pay the difference...but I'm pretty sure with the look I was giving off the barista might have suspected any monetary compensation coming from me to be laced with anthrax. She declined. So I shrugged, and I left.

...and as I pushed the door open, I heard her mumble under her breath "ugh. she ordered a grande."

I felt retarded.
It was already a bad day.
I was in a hurry.

"Venti-Twenty"
"Venti-Twenty"
"Venti-Twenty"
"Venti-Twenty"

Thank you Role Models for providing me with the mantra that kept me from crying as I hauled ass back to my car.

And I didn't even finish half of it. I should have ordered a tall. I am NEVER breaking my coffee routine again. Ever.

As for today...the Lifetime channel has been affixed on a sorority-college marathon kick all day (because nothing says empowering women like platinum blones with fake boobs living in a dollhouse by rules aimed at maintaining a social status norm!). Regardless, I think I would kick ASS at a sorority rush!

California Drivers

2010-06-26T20:24:00.000-07:00

I think one of my biggest issues is my (somewhat unofficial) diagnosis of ADD. It's a super rare form that I am hereby referring to as MTD; Multitasking Disorder.

Remember those days when you were first learning to drive? and everything required SO much fucking attention? Like, if you tried to roll down your window while driving you suddenly ended up straddling two lanes in the midst of trying to figure out WHY THE HECK THE LOCK BUTTON IS WHERE THE WINDOW CONTROL SHOULD BE? And when merging on to a highway meant looking in twenty different collusion-potential directions without getting light headed.

Thankfully those days are over. However, now that driving is basically second nature...there is no other option save for my MTD to kick in.

As such, I tend to be SUPER observant while driving. And so...here we have the tale of one drive past

The other day I was driving home and I saw this runty green Saturn with two itty-bitty headlights positioned super close together...they reminded me of little teeth, or feelers! So as this car was passing, lucky shit got to ride the carpool lane, I decided to name it "Grasshopper"...it was an obvious choice given the feelers. "Grasshopper" is a pretty nice name for a car if you ask me...it's way better than "Crap" which is what my car is currently responding to.

After bidding a silent farewell to the car with claustrophobic headlights, I noticed that it was getting super dark in my rear view mirror...but not so much looking out my window. WTF? I did like six double takes...and every time the view of behind me was like ten shades darker than in the direction I was headed. GREAT. Now not only is my windshield cracked, but my mirrors are fucked up too.I started imagining all these crazy hypothesis about how maybe the antifreeze had somehow made its way up through the hood of the car, over the dashboard and seeped into all my mirrors. Oh well. Worst case scenario is I'll just have to Sharpie in "and darker" next to the "objects in mirror are closer than they appear" sticker.

Oh wait. It's 8pm. And I'm driving west. Into the sunset.

The time would also explain why I was yawning like Disney's most beloved dwarf...excuse me, "little person." The stupid yawning totally kept interfering with one of my favorite car games...called Let's Make Every Song That Comes on the Radio into an Operatic Ballad! What was also making my game time difficult was Kiis' insistence on playing "California Girls." Seriously. There's like no way to make that into a ballad. Plus it's annoying and every time I hear the jeep-honk sound effect I think someone is honking at me.

I'm not paranoid.

But every time I hear a rap song with a siren I DO have to turn down my music and make sure I'm not being pulled over.

Which, on this same drive, would not have been a huge surprise. But obviously my lane changing faux-pas wasn't my fault. I may have been going a tad bit too fast in the far right lane, when a white van (totally a free candy van BTW, so perhaps the world might be a safer place had I run him off his on ramp...just sayin')...entered on my right. And the lanes were supposed to merge. At which point I guess there's supposed to be like an unspoken agreement between both drivers as to who speeds up and who takes tail behind. Usually, when in this situation, I just make my "I'm going to try to speed ahead of you so don't try to stop me" grimace...and all goes well. However, this time I didn't even realize the lanes were merging and I had to be the one to slam my brakes...although, if you ask me, he wasn't paying too much attention either.

Our near collide was notable. And I think he took my choice to be the only one of us sane enough to slow the fuck down as an admission of err on my part, because when I tried to set him straight with my "what the fuck is wrong with you?!" look (it's patent pending) he shot one right back! And his was almost as scary as mine! Hooolllly crap. I felt like I was being stared down by Henry Lee Lucas circa shabby mug shot days.

I drove like Jesus was shotgun the rest of the ride home.

Cupcake Gladiators

2010-06-14T22:22:00.000-07:00

So there's a kid's camp that rents out the bottom two floors of our school's dorm over the summer. I don't really know what this premise of this camp is (ie Jesus Camp, Girl Scouts, Wilderness Camp...because they all have "themes"), BUT I'm pretty sure it is funded by Aquafina.

On the first day of their arrival, I noticed two large water filters set up in our lobby. I have yet to utilize this "free water", but I feel as though pilfering the H2O is imminent, seeing as I'm broke, water bottles are expensive, and it's getting hot out. I tried buying the big jugs at the dollar store...but thats is some LOW quality water they try to sell their penny-pinching public. I can taste all the angry little minerals floating around in there. And, personally, I prefer less hostile water.

Ugh. Seriously...it's about 90 over here. I can't go outside without feeling like I'm getting bear hugs from Satan.

On the second day of drink-your-way-to-jesus camp (I figure it has to be christian related as well since it is at my school), I noticed three 24 packs of Aquafina water bottles. Resisted. Urge. To. Take. Aren't you proud?

Today, while walking down to the pool's ice dispenser (where I get ice, and wait for it to melt; thus, making my own damn water), I noticed all the kids had the same silver water bottles.

I didn't get a chance to inspect the label on the water bottles...you know, just in case I wanted to write a letter to the company asking if they could maybe spare one more little canister.... "I'm not technically "part of the camp"...but I live really really close to them"

...Anyways...no letters but only because I was distracted by George, the security guard putting up caution tape all over our parking lot.

I go to an itty-bitty christian school. Part of me feels like he just gets bored walking around all day, and so decorating the school lot with caution tape-streamers seemd a optimal pastime... I can't really say too much bad seeing as he is a sweetheart for offering to escort me to my car in the middle of the night last night (the whole three feet from the door to the vacant parking lot)...clearly he doesn't know that I'm so hardcore no serial kidnapper would dare mess with me. Even if I was in my flannel PJ's and Ugs.

In other news, my grandmother copied me...and got a Keuring. Only, she's way better at it than I am, meaning mostly she somehow got my aunt to mail her FIVE BOXES OF ASSORTED COFFEE FLAVORS. That's enough caffeine for, like, the entire cast of Gossip Girl for at least a week...unless Chuck is on one of his benders, in which case subsequent hangovers might make the coffee supply wane a wee bit faster.

Speaking of my grandparents; my grandmother has been begging me to watch the movie Invictus, which I had assumed was like a re-vamp on a Gladiator-esque theme... Starring, like, the Mel Gibson of 2010 (who is the Mel Gibson of 2010 anyways? Seriously. Sandra Bullock is the new Julia Roberts...Justin Beiber is the new, white Lil Bow Wow...I swear, there's basically a 2010 version of every celeb soooo who's ready to be nailed to a giant religious splinter to make a statement? Anyone? Anyone?). Anyways, when I turned on the movie I was kinda expecting a bunch of superbuff warrior-esque dudes...nope.com. There were a bunch of boys playing rugby...

Ummmm....excuse me, what is this? E! "Before they were Gladiators"?

I Had to turn it off...once I get an idea of the way a movie is supposed to, in my own head, play out, Failure to do so = failure to sustain my viewing. Invictus fail. I watched Cupcake Wars instead...and guess what?! I was totally regarding the premise of that show...except there was no food throwing. Totally Ok, I Tivo'd "Supernanny" which I have in good faith to assume will cover the issue flawlessly (and within the first three minutes).

The Jelly Belly Conspiracy

2010-06-13T15:07:00.001-07:00

I have it in good faith to assume that the Jelly Belly corporation is vehemently against my enjoyment of their product.

Today is Sunday, and I am FINALLY putting together a modeling portfolio. I'm such a slacker...I don't even have business cards because, while vistaprint.com claims to be free? They charge you for shipping. Fuck that...I'll sit here with my index cards, scissors, sharpies, and some glitter glue and make my own damn cards.

I have realized three things about myself through the process of portfolio-assemblage;
A)I really do look retarded when I smile - so a big hearty shout out to all you crazy photographers who told me do so during our shoots. You are ALL temporarily on my shit list.
B)I can't make decisions to save my life...I've gone through a mere four of the modeling photo albums and I'm willing to bet at least 25% of each album has qualifiedfor the new "portfolio" folder. (I DO plan to narrow it down at some point. No really, I swear).
C) I should never do anything this tedious with a 4lb tub of Jelly Bellies on my desk.

In keeping with the Jelly Belly theme I have noticed that there are very limited amounts of both the margarita and strawberry daiquiri flavors.

What the hell?!

I'm 'bout ready to write an angry email (or maybe a one-of-a-kind letter...because, really, what else am I going to do with the leftover glitter glue?) to the Kirkland signature products headquarters...

Dear Bean Flavor Management and Whom this may also Concern,
Just because my school tries to limit my alcohol consumption, does not give you the authority to follow suit by rationing my happy hour themed beans. Also, I have taken note of your attempts to disguise the cinnamon flavor by decreasing the amount of white specks. I don't really care for the cinnamon; thus, I feel somewhat personally targeted by its devious impersonation of sour cherry...my favorite flavor. Finally, might I suggest a child-proof lid? This way it will take me slightly longer to retrieve handfuls of your product at a time and hopefully prevent the sugar headache I am now experiencing.

Thanks for considering the requests mentioned above, my sincerest apologies if the glitter glue on the exterior of the envelope is now smudged, please blame the postman.
-Meg

PS- Buttered Popcorn? Please reconsider.

The Tat Artist Saved my Cat...Eye

2010-06-09T21:03:00.000-07:00

So there have been some complaints recently...from an individual who will remain nameless purely for his safety (Bachelorette commentary fans please email me privately for said individual's forwarding address for hate mail)...that my blog has been sub par regarding its actual bloggy-ness and, instead, has digressed into a Rotten Tomatoes-esque reality TV critique.

What can I say? It's summer and I'm bored shitless. So? So maybe I have taken to supplementing my evening boredom with whatever wine is in my grandparent's fridge and my epic menu of DVR'd reality TV. (I may or may not have recorded over a few cash cab episodes. SORRY GRANDPOP!)

Ok, admittedly I am dumbing myself down with reality TV. I feel like I'm doing my fall professors a favor anyways. I mean, this way they can derive a sense of self-efficacy when they realize I need to replenish my knowledge of things other than how to pace my glass of wine to conveniently avoid the refill-prior-to-commercial-break issue. (Come ON... you all know what I'm talking about. Nobody likes an empty glass at the climax of a Hell's Kitchen dinner fiasco).

(OK so even though I really REALLY want to comment on the SYTYCD Vegas auditions airing currently...I'll refrain, seeing as how that's not blog approp.)

So, according to my lifeline for all words foreign (urbandirctionary.com) a "blog" is "Short for weblog. A meandering, blatantly uninteresting online diary that gives the author the illusion that people are interested in their stupid, pathetic life. Consists of such riveting entries as "homework sucks" and "I slept until noon today."v . intr. The act of posting to a weblog."

HA! I DID sleep until noon. Urban D is so legit (please refer to entries 1,3, & 7 for "megan" to further validate this claim).

Ok so my morning all started with the revelation that black eyeshadow is basically a cure-all for morning coffee jitters. Case in point; I adore liquid eyeliner, but after three cups of coffee? It SO does not adore me. Try as I might to do the stupid cat eye look (shut up, I know it's super 80's pin up and probably not meant for daily wear. Don't care. Nope...and why is it called "cat eye" anyways? Must. Google. Later.)

Anyways...the liner on my right eye always seems to be slightly more slanted than the left. (And now you're all so going to scrutinize my eyeliner next time you see me). After coffee, this little issue of slantation (pretty sure I just made that word up. Must. Google. Later) is exacerbated to epic proportions. It's like cat eye vs rogue-striped zebra eye. That's where my little Kat Von D (that's right...the tat artist has a makeup line!) eyeshadow in "Lucifer" (apparently that means BLACK) comes in superhandy!

I like her shadow palette because it comes with itty bitty brushes...like if tinkerbell wanted to spice things up for Peter Pan and go all goth for a day? This is totally the palette for her. (And I'm sure Kat would be oh so tickled pink to know I'm associating her make-your-own-emo-eyes palette a Disney pixie).

Anyways. This morning's asymmetrical dilema could simply not be tamed... despite numerous Q-tips (which was quite the ordeal because I'm staying at my grandparents' house and the Q-tips are all downstairs and, being as I was slightly groggy from my 12pm sleep-in, I failed to think wisely enough to bring up multiple Q-tips, so I just brought up one at a time. For every one of the three times I needed a replacement Q-tip. One. At. A. Time...apparently I had far too much confidence in my ability to rectify the situation.) Good Jesus of eyeliner do you UNDERSTAND how difficult it is to get this stupid eyeliner even on both sides?! ESPECIALLY after my hand has started developing what I like to call "Coffee-onset Parkinson's."

Moral of the Story: When applied liberally, black eyeshadow covers everything.

Bachelorette...Quick Bits

2010-06-07T21:00:00.001-07:00

So Ali and her first date for the evening, Roberto, do this wire walking thing over the city...I'm sure there's a name for it. I just don't know what it is. And I'm OK with that. Anyways, she's all "oh I just want to know if he can make me feel safe" because those harnesses and the medical crew on stand by are just there for visual aesthetics?

His shining moment out of their entire date, hands down, is where they start walking the stainless steel, 5" thick circus wires and he looks to her in his one shining moment of chivalry and says, "If you feel afraid, just look over here at me...and..you'll, er, be OK."

HER shining moment of the date was when she rolls over and says "kiss me" in Spanish...then states, "I learned that from a rap song."

Why is there an add for "anti chafing" gel during the Bachelorette? Do network producers assume that the only people sitting on their couches right now, drinking Pinot and watching the fall in fake love show are middle aged individuals falling victim to rubby-leg-syndrome?

Confessions of a Product Junkie

2010-06-06T00:38:00.000-07:00

So I am a self-professed sucker for the beauty product retail world. Tell me something is going to give me sleek, sexy hair and I'm Googling print-out coupons within seconds.

Coupons?

Ya...well that's because I'm also, admittedly, a sales whore. Oh. And I'm broke.

For my birthday this year, my grandmother let me pick out a flat iron for my hair. And, being the stickler for "stick with what you know works," I re-ordered my Conair Infinity.

Whoa...wait. What retarded product design CEO decided it would be a wise idea to start screwing the plates in with actual, visible screws?! Dislike! Dislike! My hair dislikes your executive decision to add interfering metal objects into the end of my straightener!

WHOA...side tracked...watching So You Think You Can Dance auditions online and guess what?! THEY USED A LADY GA GA MEDLEY FOR THEIR VEGAS CHOREOGRAPHY AUDITIONS! I knew I liked this show. (Stay tuned for Confessionns of a Reality TV Show Junkie)

ok, anyways. Now my hair breaks every time I use my flat iron unless I deliberately separate very small sections of hair to straighten at a time. Um tedious much?

So on the advice of a friend, I ordered the Coroloriss.

It's cute and pink, and came in a little box filled with silk rosebuds.
Awwwwww...
Yet no, another design fail. I have to grip the handle with brute force (which I, personally, have very little of during my morning sessions of getting ready...seeing as those are pre-coffee hours) to get it to close around my hair all the way. No thanks...I want straight hair in the morning, not biceps of steel. That's what my Pilates DVD is for (compliments of ebay...a confession for another day).

The Bachelorette...

2010-05-31T21:05:00.001-07:00

So, while I thought I would have less issues with the chick version of the "fall in fake love" show...ya...not so much.

Granted, I don't feel my moderate feminism spit firing from within my soul; however, I really can't take this show seriously. But do I still watch it? Duh, it's on DVR at my grandparents.

First of all, the Bachelorette of choice is Ali, who was not the runner up on the Bachelor. Nay, that chick had sense enough to try to get a date without the help of private jets, tabloids, and 25 men-on-demand. Good for you Tenley. Ali, on the other hand, sat down in her first interview as the Bacheloratte last Monday night- where she declared "*sigh* I just want to...I just want*another sigh*...I just want to be in LOVE!"
Ohhh...gag me.

I also love how, as they explain her experience choosing to leave the Bachelor last season for work (Read: the last wise decision this girl ever made), the show prolonged clips of her staring off dejectedly into random beaches. I kinda wonder what the camera men are telling her..."good good...you look SO pathetic right now. FAB!"

So far, after watching the initial pre-show interview, I really like this guy Frank. Despite his name, which we will not hold against him, he is SUPER enthusiastic(!!!) The best part of his interview was when he stated "passion is more important than money"...then the person interviewing him asked him if he was aware that the women who he was being sent off to woo was the previous Bachelorette who opted for her career over her "love"?

He just smiled...
really big...
as the we'dbetterfuckingeditallthatshitijustsaidout look fogged up his horn-rimmed glasses.

While I thought the only reason I loved the Bachelor was all the cat fights...I'll be the first to admit, men fights? EVEN BETTER! Plus who is in charge of the alcohol on this show? These guys are drinking beer 24/7. Not to mention they've all been put through P90 x, y, and z to get into shape for this show (and I'll just add Ali? Doubt she went to the gym in the interim of her two reality tv debuts. Sorry chica, they may provide hair and makeup AND a wardrobe that makes me drool, but the abs were not included)..and you KNOW they threw in one or two crazies just to spice things up (side note 2: I feel like Vienna? Last season's "winner" was the wild card crazy...just sayin').

Let's add this up real quick
1) Alcohol...and from the looks of it? Enough to fill up the potential bachelors' Olympic sized infinity pool.
2) 25 Very, very in-shape men.
3) Crazies.

Ohhh come on...you're totally setting your TiVo right now aren't you?!

I'm not entirely sure what to expect from this show, but so far the first few dates have left me with high expectations for entertainment, and a generally low opinion of Ali.

COME ON! If you drive a guy to a private pool and club in Vegas in a brand new Ferrari after the two of you flew to said car in your private jet? Yes...it's romantic. You could be there with kermit the frog and still feel "we had a connection". Ya you had a connection... you both love being spoiled rotten by reality TV funding.

(PS. craig is the crazy...and his ass just got the boot.)

I also think I just found my second (Read: 1,567th) reality TV guilty pleasure. It's called True Love, and the guy from Queer Eye is one it!! No, Not the one with questionable gay-ness, the blonde...the one you know has more lipgloss than I do. Anyways...they chose some models who think they're the shit and who think they're competing to see who is going to be the "new face of vegas".. BUT...there are hidden cameras and they're really being judged on who has the most "inner beauty." It's no fail entertainment people. Stop judging me. Hopefully it will be two notches less retarted than America's Next Smartest Model...which, I have to be honest, John and Kate Plus 9 (I include Kate's neurotic ego) took precedent when it came time to delegate DVR space.

Jesus Cut me off Today...

2010-05-12T22:16:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I think marketing is super retarded...OK fine, most of the time. Like pet food. Your dog would eat a lizard if you wiggled it in front of their face and spoke in a high-pitch voice (according to Cesar Millan, Dog Whisperer, high pitches bring dogs back to their stone age days where they hunted things like...lizards. OK fine. I made that up. All I know about Cesar is his name sounds too much like my favorite cookie and he IS the pack leader.) Anyways...my point was that nobody needs to cut up five star restaurant worthy sirloin for Sir Maxwell III...unless, of course, you named your kid Sir Maxwell III...in which case? Either buy the boy a helmet before sending him off to jr high or feed him LOTS of that steak...maybe even some protein powder as well....just a thought...

Despite my advertisement cynicism, Kotex? I applaud you. I don't know if anyone has seen their new design...but seriously, their little section at Target made me feel like I had stepped out of the aisle that is known for causing me to consciously avoid male check-out employees, and into a RAVE! Right there in the store! My own, personal little "sucks to be a chick" fiesta, complete with amazing decor, compliments of Kotex. I swear I heard some GaGa playing.

And for $.64 more? I'm totally buying into it.

Umm..because I want my bathroom to look that cool too. Obv. Maybe I'll hang a few bright pink ones around the door frame. Who knows.

TMI? Ya...totally. But it's MY blog. So there
(...i *may* have just stuck out my tongue at you circa Sir Maxwell's bullies. It's possible)

Speaking of pink? My mother thinks I hate the color pink. Seriously? Isn't it like a crime for a girl to actually *hate* pink? I may or may not adamantly require it be a fluorescent shade and paired with at least a subtle hint of black at all times; but I still like you pink. I still care.

Ok so I am out of school for the summer! Exciting? Not so much. I had awesome classes. The great thing about going to a small school is that once you get in to the core classes for you major, you're sitting along side the other 30 students who have chosen the same. I'm totally going to miss all the people graduating, and the one professor I had for all three psych classes. Ok, granted he's my advisor, but there's nothing like a professor who issues silence using the phrase "let the silence too become you," and "calm me, my people." I'm a nerd, I'll admit it. I LOVED analyzing movies, and religion, and myself. Sad day. My classes next semester sucksass.

Well in light of classes being out A) I need a job B) I'm broke paying for my dorm over the summer C) I actually have time to read.

C) (continued)...I'm reading Jodi Picoult's new novel about a kid with Asperger's syndrome. Coincidentally, one of the shows I keep up with has a little boy with Asperger's. (Parenthood. Heard of it? Totally worth suffering through those HPV horror story commercials on Hulu).There are definitely some inconsistencies. The only case study I did on the disease seems to parallel the book more so than the show. Leave it to ABC to not do their homework.

Final word? watch your Christian bumper stickers people. You're representing Christ when you cut people off, whereas I? Am only representing Honda.

To Whom This May Concern,

2010-04-21T19:07:00.000-07:00

Ohhhh I've been slacking so bad at this blog thing. I do apologize BUT, in my own defense 90 pages worth of papers to write within the next three weeks (and no, that wasn't an exaggeration, I did actually add up all the pages for the upcoming papers).

This will be short and sweet. The minor pet peeves that cross and erode my semi-sane consciousness.

Dear Hulu,
If you play one more 60 second sob story about cervical cancer during my Gossip Girl episode I *may* just have a conniption. If you care that much about cervical health to replay the same two ads during every commercial break? Might I just suggest mailing all your female subscribers a hot glue gun with a nice little "glue it shut" post-it attached? (Trust me...it will probably prove equally as effective).
-Thanks for all the nightmares!
xoxo Meg
ps. maybe you should redirect your sexual health horror story toward the gossip girl cast?

Dearest Tyra Banks,
Contrary to popular belief, you are not the love-child of Oprah and Jesus. Although, I do applaud your efforts to bring up profound, controversial topics...such as "what the colors you wear say about the real you." (I will, however, keep in mind that wearing yellow underwear on New Years means a 'new year' of money).
-Keep it real, unlike your hair
xoxo Meg

Dearest Exchange Students,
There are unwritten rules regarding the fitness center equipment. Leaving your ipod on the elliptical while you take a 20 minute water break is not cool. There are only two machines. Please share nicely. Also? Fixing your hair in the back wall mirror while on your 20 minute break, as I wait for the machine, is not only obnoxious? It's a TEASE! I'm sure you don't have to dish out $120 every three months to maintain those straight, black locks. Show off. Also? A resistance of 1 at a -2 RPM DOES NOT DESERVE A 20 MINUTE BREAK IN THE FIRST PLACE.
-Please fix the afore mentioned problematic behaviors, I want my turn on the machine....the stationary bike hurts my butt.
xoxo Meg

Dear Hope International University Professors,
You all have facebook, I would like to inform you that there is now a Google calendar application for the site. Please utilize in efforts to avoid scheduling any further papers and tests on the same frickin day. I will even host a tutorial for the ap if need be.
-Give me an A, please
xoxo Meg

My status is gonna be affected if I keep it up like a love sick crackhead

2010-04-03T22:45:00.000-07:00

I have decided that I like to people watch.

I mean, not just like to *watch* (because, let's be honest now, who doesn't?) but I also like to make up hypothetical stories about the people oblivious enough to carry on with their ridiculousness while I watch (taking descriptive, and potentially biased mental notes.)

I would like to introduce to you all the owner of the green Ford F150 I had the pleasure of being stuck behind all morning on the 57. I shall call him "Benny" since I don't know anyone named Benny...or at least don't know any Benny's well enough to feel subsequent guilt about publicizing his chronic OCD (which I will get to in a minute) via blog.

Yes, unfortunately, Benny has obsessive compulsive disorder (see? all my psych classes are totally paying of, I can officially diagnose someone in an entirely separate vehicle...I'll let you know when I can also give out prescriptions from the trunk) Anyways; Benny has control issues he projects onto a numerical fixation...let's say the number 65.

Sound familiar? 65? No?

Perhaps as in MPH?

And dearest little Benny...well, he won't go above nor below his little number bff.

Which means? My morning of following (See Also: making up stories about to pass time) Benny, consisted of watching MY number fixation, the estimated arrival time on my GPS, get later...and later...and later...

Seriously Benny, the next time you slam your brakes because your speedometer hit 66? You and I are going to have a little heart-to-heart called "I'm going to blast Lady Ga Ga SO FREAKING loud when I finally get a chance to pass your slow ass!"

Speaking of The Ga...she has a new song out. YES! 'Tis true! Now she is SPANISH.

Ke$ha also has a new single out...Called "Your Love is my Drug." I have to admit, I'm a big fan...leave it to the girl with a dollar sign in her name to write a love song featuring the word "crackhead."

Redesigning the Brake Light (and Other such Awesomeness)

2010-03-29T21:14:00.000-07:00

Gossip Girl is my new fashion inspiration. I don't care if the plot centers on Jenny designing her own wardrobe; they get ALL their shit from Forever21. Except for Blair. She shops at Pilgrim Girls-R-US. Girl looks like the twentieth century version of the Mayflower expedition...except, instead of discovering America, she uncovered penny loafers and shameless manipulation. (I am not disrespecting Blair in any way, shape, or form...according to facebook GG quiz, she is my alter ego.)

Beeteedubs? I'm watching the newest episode in HD and, I have to say, it almost kills the fantasy-esque (real word now, I cleared it with my psych professor. In fact, I've decided adding "esque" can in fact make any word into an adjective OR adverb. True Story)-aura of the show. Without the hazy fuzz of normal cable, they all look like real people! I don't know if I can handle this. I'm starting to critique the acting, as opposed to the blatant lack of judgement Vanessa displayed in her decision to get back together with Lonely Boy.

Watching House in HD is an entirely different story. I don't care if it's Hugh Laurie or Dr. House; I want to marry that man. Our arguments would be epic...AND they would be British! (Because, according to a People interview, sometimes when he forgets lines he slips back into his native accent (!)).

GG Update: Fashion show. I've seen every on of those items in F21...I'm mentally reciting the prices as they appear on the runway. It's like The Price is Right...only I'm petty sure Mrs. Waldorf's line isn't $21.99 per cardigan.

In other news, I got into a car accident Sunday morning. I just have to preface by saying that, I'm 21...and I've never hit anything before. Never. In the entire history of EVER. I was merging off the 91 onto the 105, and the van in front of me decided to merge too...but he totally blocked my view of the rest of the on-ramp so I didn't see the line of cars at a dead stop. I saw him put on his brake lights but it took me one second too many to process the fact that he had completely stopped, as opposed to just slowing down. I slammed my brakes once I realized his car was no longer in any state of GO.

But honestly my brain does not process information that fast (damn me...I should have had that 5 hour energy). Seriously. There needs to be separate lights, one for the "I'm slowing down" brake, and one for the "guard your effing bumpers, I'm not moving atallwhatsoever" brake. I feel like such an invention would save people from such awful things as death and inconvenient 20 minute insurance exchanges on their way to a shoot in Venice beach.

Commercial Update: The news just informed me that "a new study proves food may be just as addicting as cocaine". Um duh...this we know. Now I'm just waiting for all the addicts out there to see the news tonight and start snorting something off the new Mc D's dollar menu in an attempt to save money. (So if any of you see a guy with ketchup dripping from his nose? Ya, you'll know what's up.)

No but seriously, I believe it. My grandfather will surely wed JIF peanut butter as soon as the prop for inanimate object marriages goes through.

Personally? my food-coke is jelly bellies. COME ON! You can have basically any food you want in one 4.5 calorie bean. You want the perfect sour apple? (let's face it, the sour to sweet ratio of apples is never predicable) just pick up one or two green little gummy beans (but not he dark green ones, those are watermelon...oh, and the ones with little brown specks? Those are pears).

Speaking of...I had better get my jelly bellies this Easter.

Computer Update: The virus is back. I don't even download anything but power points...and I feel like bible class power points should be protected from viruses by GOD. So clearly, that's not where it's coming from. Ugh. Back to Staples tomorrow.

The Bachelor; a Psychoanalytic Approach

2010-03-02T13:53:00.000-08:00

So, I know everyone is so adamant about Vienna being the "wrong" choice for this year's bachelor. I'm just going to throw it out there, but I firmly believe that they deserve one another.

Jake (THE bachelor, for those of you who live under a reality TV rock) is stuck in the big fish little pond complex (I know this, because I watch Millionaire Matchmaker--which is the best show ever.) He thinks that he wants this wild, passionate, 'girly' (see also: immature and financially dependent in Vienna's case) girl. Whereas, in reality, once he is stuck taking care of ms. "giggle giggle my daddy has bailed me out of too many financial blunders to count," he is going to realize that he should have eaten that final rose before giving it to her.

Please everyone, stop feeling bad for Tinley. She will find who she is looking for, and it won't be a man who could in any way, shape, or form justify saying "I love you" to three different girls in a single week. She will be a better person because of this, and she will find someone who deserves her far more than this dude.

Jake chose Vienna on the basis of three core reasons which I will lay out quite candidly;

A) She makes him feel needed. She is a self declared daddy's girl, in turn there will be an eventual transference of the affection and admiration she holds for her father onto Jake. However, while Jake may foresee this playing out as an emotionally healthy interdependency between husband and wife; more likely than not it's going to play out as Vienna being none other than financially dependent on Jake. And he? WILL get sick of taking care of daddy's little girl.

B) The "spark" that he so adamantly claims to have with Vienna. Ok people, this obviously just means the girl puts out. A lot. Whereas with Tinley, they developed an emotional connection prior to a physical one, Vienna snagged that private sweet room key, slipped on her little white lingerie dress and shut those balcony doors STAT. Jake might be getting his season finale's worth of passion but sooner or later he is going to realize that emotionally he and Vienna are on two completely different levels of maturity.

C) Ok those of you Jake fans, don't read this one... Jake is an attention seeker. Hardcore. He has definitely set a precedent of not wanting to conform to any of the typical Bachelor rules (sending home both women on a double date, sending Michelle home in the middle of a group date, not giving out all his roses, allowing Vienna into his bedroom the night before a rose ceremony...etc). Obviously the show producers have no problem with this, as a "never before seen in Bachelor history" moment bodes quite well for ratings. Clearly Jake likes to "take risks" as he so put it in the finale follow up interview, who's to say he didn't choose Vienna--the girl who the tabloids are bashing, who all the other girls hated, and who even his own parents were resistant to--solely for the sake of her being the blatantly risky choice?

The End.

The Next Julia?

2010-02-27T20:05:00.000-08:00

So can I just tell you about my day? Can I? Please?

SO last night, around 9pm, my computer decided to be completely retarded (yes, thank you, that is the technical term for it.) It was pretty much the last straw after blanking out on the entire Freud section of my theories psych test that morning. Not only was I dwelling on the imminent failure to attain my 3.5 GPA, but I couldn't even use my virtual social networks to bitch and moan about it! Seriously?! Seriously.

So this morning I had to get up and take the stupid, stupid computer to Staples. Ok now, how many people does it take to check in a freaking computer for virus repair? I don't need three of you geek squad super troopers explaining this shit to me... all I need to know is how long it's going to take, and how broke I'm going to be after the fact. Please and thank you.

Now my mother, who had called "concerned" about five times this morning to make sure I wasn't [still] having a mental breakdown over the death of my virtual livelihood and sanity (which, I did find out is going to take 72 hours to fix), offered to give me back my old laptop...*if* I drove over there.

Not gonna lie; at that particular moment the though entered my mind that somehow she had drugged my computer as a means to ensure a visit...slipped the darn thing some ambien? Maybe? Hey. It's a valid theory.

So I went. Yaa. BTW? My mom hates the last photo shoot I did. Thanks mom. Thanks. She thinks I should only channel my inner Audrey Hepburn in shoots from here on out.

Since I have been broke, I have given up on my retail therapy. Today, however, I caved...sorta. I get extra points for not buying anything though. Conclusions from the excursion? The VS Miraculous Bra needs to be renamed. I'm officially calling it the porn star bra. It's intense. The cutesy little sales girl asked me why I wasn't going to buy it...Me? "um...I don't look like that" [See Also: I don't see how paying $60 for a bra that labels me an attention seeking slu** is a good investment at this particular point in time...but MAYBE when I audition for the feature film Erin Brockovich II.]

So now I'm watching Kitchen Nightmares. I have to say, Gordon Ramsey yells a lot at stupid people. It makes me really happy.

The Bachelor; Reconfirming the Trust Issues of Girls Everywhere

2010-02-16T21:55:00.001-08:00

I'm catching up on The Bachelor.

I wasn't planning to post anything about this show for the remainder of the season because I am admittedly addicted and can not for the life of me figure out why.

First of all? The bachelor has the emotional and social skills of a 12 year old boy. Second of all, he reminds me of a guy I dated...well, ok fine; if said "guy" shaved, took out his numerous piercings, and stopped smoking.....Ok. You can all stop judging me now.

...And my third protest to the show is the fact that these girls would willingly throw themselves as some guy. all the while knowing that he is treating each of them no more special than the 23, 22, 21... other women there. Seriously? One episode girl #twentysomething found out that -gasp- he let ALL the women put their legs in his lap and not just hers?!

Well take a prozac Twentysomething because on this episode he decides whether or not to give each of the three remaining girls a "secret key" to his fantasy bedroom sweet.

"Should you choose to forgo your individual rooms, please use this key to stay as a couple in the fantasy sweet"-as the key containing card reads.

Guess what? He's two for two so far on dishing those suckers out.

If I didn't feel like these girls walked right into this (it's not like it's the first season or anything), I would *maybe* feel bad for them. Poor Tenley just said how "special" she feels. Really chica? Cause, uh, before the commercial break us viewers watched Mr. Man get in the rose filled, fantasy sweet hot tub with the New York swimsuit model.

Still feel special?

I suppose his quote during the opening of this episode makes sense..."here I am, the guy who never had a date in high school; falling in 'love' with three women."

Aha! This is his own little psychological mind blow for all those years of lonely.

Poor Lonely boy...fortunately I know who "wins" this season. And she? Is clearly a testament to his repressed desires to relive his youth in a more (albeit only slightly) socially developed state.

(I have so SO many more issues with this episode alone...but I have to go vomit now.)

Shhhhhhh. No. Your Ideas are Vetoed

2010-02-08T19:07:00.000-08:00

I have come to two conclusions today. Number 1: Sleep is probably a better idea than I give it credit for. Number 2: People are retarted.

Wait.

Make that three....Tartar is a dish made out of raw fillet steak (Hell's Kitchen seems to be the only thing on Hulu right now that holds my attention...I like all the yelling.)

Anyways. I have gotten little to no sleep the past three days and, unlike last semester, Mondays are not the easy day for classes. As such, I have been up and in class from 8-4:30, after which I had to meet with a group for a Hebrew History and Literature project.

GROUP project.

Cringe. Shudder. Four letter adjectives.

I despise projects in general, but the whole group aspect just puts me over the edge every time. So, knowing that we had this assignment coming up and realizing that, given the size of the class, I am probably one of maybe three type A personalities in the room and chances are none of us would end up in the same group (is there like some unwritten law that there can only be one person who actually cares about their GPA per group in EVERY project assigned?...I feel like there is), I did a little pre-meeting prep on the project for my group... (See Also: I outlined the entire book of Exodus according to the outline the professor emailed us in addition to the syllabus, and hi lighted the crucial points.)

So we met today, and granted I was already tired and pissed that I was the only one who had put any thought into the project prior to the meeting today, but seriously people?! Seriously?

So we decided to do a skit... and guess who volunteered to type it up?

First of all, after deciding not to do a power point with video, (seeing as the presentation is the next class meeting and none of the four of us knew how to figure that out without having to keep clicking URL links)... this kid in my group says "well, you know she will be considering the 'points' for our grade based on how good it is. So shouldn't we try to make it better than just a skit? Wouldn't we want to get the best amount of points possible?"

I should have known this kid would be reserving himself a spot on my S* list. I looked him dead in the eye and said something along the lines of "Well do YOU know of a program we could use? Could YOU maybe show us how it's done in the two hours we have together before having to present?" "No?" "Then I think we'll stick to the script."

Sigh. Anyways.

I went through the story, trying to piece in lines as opposed to narration and I SHIT YOU NOT every four lines, this kid in my group would say "um...you are including this right?" "Um we should make sure to include this verse."

He was clearly a Biblical studies major and knew the verses well; however, had he been listening? I wouldn't have had to inform him every two seconds that I HAD JUST SAID THAT! Also did he not read the email the prof sent regarding what actually needed to be included? (No, he didn't. Shocker.)

Ahhhh.

So not only did I spend my day running from class to class on 3 hours of sleep, but I got to sit in the student center typing up a five page narrative of the Exodus story with Sparky Mc. Whataboutthisverse.

Tool.

AND I know everything that happens on the Bachelor, including who wins...so I can no longer seek solace in the emotional woes of catty, love seeking women as per usual on Monday night. OOoooh I need a Lady Ga Ga dance party STAT.

Social Commentary is not Nescessary at Wal Mart.

2010-02-05T18:16:00.000-08:00

So first of all...when I enter the super store of discounts and flustered housewives, it's usually after/before the gym, after tanning, or on a late night exercise in futility when I run out of hairspray (I have some to find out that they aren't perpetually out of the hairspray I use, they simply don't stock it anymore...darn you housewives for hogging that shelf space with your L'oreal Kids crap!).

Anyhow, this trip was no different and so I went, in my sweats, cheeks flushed from tanning, and the bottoms of my pants soaked from the torrential downpour that the west coast seems to have taking a liking to recently. Needless to say, I wasn't channeling chique....I was barely passing as a notch about disheveled. But it's Wal Mart right?

Still... I don't really *want* to call attention to the fact that I'm a broke college student picking up the necessities at the cheapest place in a 50 mile radius. So when I'm standing at the check out counter and I notice this woman eyeing my basket, and clearly mentally speculating as I put each item on the register belt....I do the obvious; pretend to text.

Compulsively pretend to text.

My fingers can only pass over the keys aimlessly for so long.

And as soon as I look up?

Eye contact. Damnit.

And then? She admits to it...almost proudly. "Oh I was just looking at your purchases."

Personally, I didn't feel like this warranted a response. I mean, if I was buying a chainsaw...or those ridiculous socks with the friction stickers on the bottoms? I might offer up an excuse. But random dorm necessities...get over it lady, clearly you missed the memo that your supposed to replace your mascara monthly. i however, did not.

But seriously. Isn't it an understood rule that you just don't comment on what strangers buy? Especially at Wal Mart. Obviously we all notice one another, and speculate what they plan to do with their reduced price goods... but for Godssake, you don't TELL them that's what you're doing. (Especially when they don't even look cute and would prefer to just blend into the background...just a thought.)

So she stood there... waiting for a response.

It wasn't even a question.

Ugh. Fine.
"I'm a college student."
Monotone.

I felt like that should have sufficed as an explanation for the random assortment of 100 calorie packs, makeup, and hair products.. Right?

Well, if it didn't...turning abruptly to stare at and pretend to deliberate between the diet coke and diet pepsi dispenser seemed to do the trick.

Sigh.

So basically I'm a B either way?

2010-01-28T17:05:00.001-08:00

Psychology and Religion.

Probably my second favorite class this semester thus far... yesterday we devoted a lot of discussion time to the sincerity of the average Christian...(see also: my entire school's student body-with the exception of the jocks we recruited who are only here for scholarship money and couldn't give two shits about being bff's with Jesus.)

Well? How genuine *are* we really?

I had to bring up my issues with the discussion today when the topic was revisited. Because seriously...now every time I say hello to someone in the hall, or on the way to class I have a prolonged mental conversation regarding, well... whether or not I care.

The typical encounter is "hi, how are you?" "good, and you?" "good." And then there is an unspoken rule that this is where the conversation is dropped and each person is allowed to continue with their day having just appropriately greeted a passerby using the proper formula.

So that's what I told the professor...that now, thanks to you Dr Lawless, every time I even see someone I know, whether it be a close friend or simply an acquaintance I seriously have an inner debate with myself about whether or not I really even want to say hi and begin this half-hearted ritual. (And let's make it clear here, that my school is so small and community-oriented that basically everyone on campus has at least attained acquaintance status.)

Because really? I don't want to hear about how you're doing if you have anything other than a mono-syllabic response. And even if I do? I'm on my way to class...so please don't share your life story with me. Just say good. Just say good. Just say good. okthanksbye.

But then if I don't say hi? (which was my game plan for most of my first year here) people think I'm an ass. I've gotten three reports this week alone of people actually fearing me...at least prior to getting to know me. Which has always been fine. If someone wants to run and hide whenever they see me as opposed to only when they tick me off (which is advised), so be it. But I would like to point out that I am not nearly as frigid as most people seem to think on initial impression. In lieu of this, I have been trying to make an attempt to say hi to people I know when I see them throughout the day and ask them how they are doing...although clearly, I don't have time to hear the whole story and don't really care as much as I would like to think I do.

...and yes, more or less I did say all of this out loud in class.

--------------

Hebrew History class

Learning about God's punishment of Eve in the garden as it applies to relational conflict.

My professor continued to stress the tendency for women to make compromises in terms of their relationships...that women are more likely to try to smooth things over than address relational issues.

Guess God skipped over me when distributing the "don't make waves" attribute.

And We're SO Over it...

2010-01-27T16:14:00.000-08:00

Ok, so while I can't help but think PMS and Maxi when I hear the name to this new device... I also can't stand joke redundancy. It makes my heart hurt.

Seriously people, the joke is over.

No, you are not the one person sharp enough to make the correlation between "pad" and feminine products.

No, your wit isn't nearly as clever as you think it is, seeing as there are only so many jokes that can be made about the Apple product name fail...we've heard them all.

And quite frankly? I'm sick of hearing your jokes. ALREADY.

and I? I own a PC. I'm not even in the Apple fan cub.

So I guess you could say I'm no longer taking sides in this. I too found the name hilarious and unfortunate initially and made a few passive aggressive comments...but seriously. The joke is dead now.

You iPad worshipers are like six year olds during the '98 holiday launch of Furbies.

And those of you tweeting whenever another way to incorporate feminine hygiene into the punch line of an iPad joke pops into your head? Get over it already. You're just not as witty as you think.

Plus my statements regarding the unfortunate product name? clearly outshine yours. Please refer to my facebook or twitter for three such instances. (Because obviously I couldn't' help but say something slightly obnoxious...however, seeing as it's been almost an entire day since the iPad announcement? The jokes are getting old and overused.)

Those of you who made comments within a few hours of the product name launch? Consider yourself exempt. It was funny then. The rest of you? Fail.

And for those of you die hard iPad fans sick of said jokes? I give you permission to send this link to all offenders (except for me, since my jokes are hilarious. Obviously.)

www.buzzfeed.com/awesomer/the-5-stages-of-ipad-joke-grief

Ladies? We are the Hero and Genesis sucks.

2010-01-27T15:32:00.002-08:00

So, I'm in Hebrew History class...

Shut up. I am totally paying attention.

We're having a somewhat inane debate, ok not even a debate since nobody can even assert an opinion. Plus there are like three different subjects revolving in the classroom which is just making my head spin. SO to refrain from any obnoxious comments in this class (where it is slightly less acceptable than in my psych classes...plus I've already had one too many foot-to-mouth moments in psych class to care about censoring.)

Discussion at hand is God's creation of man and woman as equal despite the fact that God gave Eve the name "Ezer," which is interpreted as helper. However, when the word "Ezer" is used to describe God within the Bible (which is a lot) is is interpreted as "Hero" or "rescuer."

After reading this from the power point, my prof asked us what we thought of this.

Um duh we're the helpers. Men would suck at life if it weren't for us. I mean, clearly there was no women on the Apple design team when naming their newest product. A woman would hear "pad" and think cramps and bloating-hopefully saving Apple from being the punch line of tweets and blogs nation wide. (I kept this to myself, seeing as the class is predominantly freshman guys who might not know well enough to steer clear of entering a debate with me.)

The other point was that God gave Eve to Adam and stated that "they" were good, and created in His image, his complete image. So does that mean that neither are good or complete until united?

This? Is why I hate Genesis. Is that a sin? It's probably a sin to hate one of the books of the Bible right? But seriously.

...Whoa. Half the people on this side of the room are wearing plaid... ok sorry. I'm ADD. Clearly.

This post was retarded, and yet successful...only 20 more minutes of class.

I'm in it for the Cat Fights

2010-01-23T15:15:00.000-08:00

Soooo guess who's watching The bachelor?

Oh Hell yes I am!

Side Note: I think it would be much more dramatic if every girl got a rose...but the ones going to the outcasts had thorns. You bleed you're out.

I have so many issues with this show. And not even the ones you would think... like "what about destiny? Is this reality show fucking with the ways of FATE?!"

Ya...not so much. My issue is mostly that the girls are retarted.

Hey Cambodian lady? Telling him on the first night that he can "land his plan on your landing stip any time?" Not hot. Especially after he declared God his bff.

And HONESTLY woman, addressing yourself in the third person as "the love of his life?" Nope. You fail.

And you? Miss "i brought a cheap halloween stewardess costume on ebay to wear just for this occasion"...your ass is showing. And the camera man? He noticed. PS: Were the bachelor a doctor instead of a pilot, would you have dressed like a corpse?

As for the rest of you? I'm only on the first episode but I'm praying for your sake you know what a bra is...because I'm just not seeing any much needed support here.

Slightly Less Spastic

2010-01-20T20:09:00.000-08:00

For hilarity, please refer to previous posts.

Don't get it twisted

In an argument I will always doubt myself, but never back down.

I have a hard time being nice to people I feel something for, until I think they may feel the same.

I have jealousy issues I am sure require therapy. I have never been cheated on, but I will expect it every time...because it always seems evident that I will never be enough.

I will say what I feel, but instantly regret it if I think I may have hurt you.

I have never felt pretty. So when some one tells me I am, I instantly think they are either just being nice, or hoping I will swoon with my pants around my ankles.

I lie about being happy. To my family. To my friends. To myself. All the time. Just so I can convince them and myself, even for one minute that shit isn’t as bad as it really seems.

I worry that if I say what I really feel about people, that I will seem more like a “nasty asshole” whose only purpose is to tear people down, rather than just someone who just speaks their mind when something doesn’t smell right.

I often feel as though my body is invincible, in ways that I only wish my mind could be as well. I constantly push the limits because the physical is more tangible than the emotional; it is resolvable in ways the latter is not.

I sit inside my own head too much. I need to practice THINKING less and BEING more. I am the only person who really understands me yet I can be my own worst enemy all wrapped up in one. But this is me. And I have to accept that not everyone is going to like me. And I have to accept that not everyone appreciates my humor, or thinks that I am funny.

~With that said…what I do NOT have to accept is letting someone believe they can bully me, talk down to me, talk shit about me, or disrespect me and assume my silence means I am weak. I am ALL the things I listed above and MORE, but one thing I will NEVER be is weak.~

Oh Snap-ped

2010-01-12T21:43:00.000-08:00

So I've been sick lately, and catching up on my daytime television. More often than not, however, I end up sleeping through the programs and waking up to the all too familiar commercials.

Most of these ads are for some sort of medication or another. My theory is that one medication gives you side effects that parallel the symptoms requiring yet another med to cure...and the cycle continues until you and good old Ed at the CVS pharmacy counter are on a first name basis and you've started clipping coupons for Nature's Choice vitamins (which, BTW, smell like mold....which may be *nature's* choice but I'll sure as hell pass on that crap.)

So anyways... having watched three days worth of televised drug peddling, I can now diagnose myself with practically any ailment. The actors even show you what sick FEELS like, just in case you're not entirely sure...(for the most part, if sick, you will be viewed by others in black and white and have what I now refer to as "achy creased forehead" face.) And if you have a stuffy nose, and need Afrin? Your head will turn into a stuffed bear or a giant nose. Its legit.

Also? Pain isn't always physical. Have you been feeling down lately? Maybe you should check yourself for "Sweatpant Leg", ( the blinged out ones from Victorias Secret are fine though, those are only a symptom of expensive taste and victoriassecret.com sale stalking...I wonder if there's a pill for that....hm) You check for this by simply patting down your legs...feel sweatpants? Yaaa...I have some bad news for you. You're obviously depressed. It's OK! There's a medication that can stop you from sitting by the window depressing your dog (way to go loser) and bring color back to your life!!
*side effects may include increase in suicidal thoughts or behaviors. Increased risk of death. Please consult your doctor before trying to get happy...or well in general as it could be hazardous to your health.*

Anyone seen the show snapped?

Did you know that every woman had a homicidal psychopath living inside of her? I found this out by watching Snapped. So when I first started watching Snapped, immediately I thought GREAT finally some gender equity in the crime drama genre! Leave it to the Oxygen network to make it all about the women..er.. "in power?" Seriously though, the best part about snapped it that it shows you exactly what it will look like when YOU 'snap,' and decide to kill your husbands and boyfriends...and you will snap. I mean, it happened to these women...and they were suuuch nice girls.

But clearly they weren't taking their meds.

Seriously television? Seriously?
Just wait until I summon up enough energy to start on wedding shows.

**Warning: reading this blog may lead to hyper- or hypo-manic states, cynicism, and small, infrequent amounts of narcissism. Ask your doctor if this blog is right for you.**

Thanks Mom...I love you too

2010-01-04T18:36:00.000-08:00

So after going for a quick run today... I decided to exercise my MIND.

...with facebook quizzes!

Oh facebook...how you know me so well. It amazes me that, by answering three to six multiple choice questions, these applications can determine "what crazy bitch i am"...for example.

#1 Chinese Zodiac Sign.
I give this one slightly more credit since it is based on facts (and I further googled the results for accuracy)
Personality
Occupying the 5th position in the Chinese Zodiac, the Dragon is the mightiest of the signs. Dragons symbolize such character traits as dominance and ambition. Dragons prefer to live by their own rules and if left on their own, are usually successful. They’re driven, unafraid of challenges, and willing to take risks. They’re passionate in all they do and they do things in grand fashion. Unfortunately, this passion and enthusiasm can leave Dragons feeling exhausted and interestingly, unfulfilled.

While Dragons frequently help others, rarely will they ask for help. Others are attracted to Dragons, especially their colorful personalities, but deep down, Dragons prefer to be alone. Perhaps that is because they’re most successful when working alone. Their preference to be alone can come across as arrogance or conceitedness, but these qualities aren’t applicable. Dragons have tempers that can flare fast!
Health
Considering their hard-working nature, Dragons are healthy overall. They do get stressed and suffer from periodic tension/headaches, likely because they take so many risks. Dragons could benefit from incorporating mild activity into their lives. Yoga or walking would be good as these activities can work both their minds and their bodies.
Career
Dragons prefer leading to being led. Jobs that allow them to express their creativity are good choices. Some good careers include: inventor, manager, computer analyst, lawyer, engineer, architect, broker, and sales person.
Relationships
Dragons will give into love, but won’t give up their independence. Because they have quick, sometimes vengeful tempers, their partners need to be tough-skinned. Dragons enjoy others who are intriguing, and when they find the right partners, they’ll usually commit to that person for life.

which PIN UP are u?
Note the professional title? "U"? Had I taken the "what makes you angry" quiz...people using numbers and letters in place of actually words would be way up there on the list.
Megan took the "which PIN UP are u?" quiz and the result is THE SEXY LADY.
you have charm..always so fashonist and elegant that everybody admires you! sometimes u are way too much friendly especially with guys, but you always do everything honestly.. you are trustable also if it doesn't look like!
Really now? Seriously? I give this quiz a 4

Which Cray Bitch Are You?
Yes...I did take this quiz. Personally I think my name should just be one of the results possible...
Sylvia Plath

You are one intense bitch. You are almost abnormally introspective but this is where your abundant creativity flows from. You love handsome, brilliant, creative genius types but you pay the price when their egos and lustful ways cause them to betray you. You are a very intelligent, classy lady with a black streak and can be very emotional at times. You do have a bit of a morbid side but your words often lead you to be misunderstood as a dark figure but that is just how you protect your soft mushy insides.

What Does Your Eye Color say About you?
Ok so this quiz had me answer the same question six different times...can you guess which question?
Green eyes

People with green eyes have the most passion put into relationships, honest and trust worthy, they have long lasting relationships. People with green eyes are also the most beautiful, are fun and outgoing, love to make people laugh, and random as ever. They long for the touch of another. They are very laid back. People with green eyes are very VERY sexy and very attracted towards other people. LOVES to have fun. They are always up for a challenge. As a fire ball this person will always have you guessing. Yet they draw you in with their amazing personality. THE BEST KISSER YOU WILL EVER MEET. You never want to let go of this person. Tend to cover up true feelings, get scared over relationships. Very curious. Tends to be a little jealous. Intelligent.

Who Loves You?
This quiz was retarded.
Megan took the "Who loves you?" quiz and the result is M..
The one who loves you starts with M.
Thanks mom...I love you too. Sometimes.

What drug are you most like?

Megan took the "What drug are you most like?" quiz and the result is Cocaine.
You are Cocaine. Bright, seductive and confident- you know what you like and how to get it. Admittedly you're on the arrogant side and not easy for everyone to be around but you don't want to spend your time with just anyone anyways. What you lack in compassion you make up for in wit and intelligence.

This quiz was something like "What's the inner you..." or "your inner state of mind"
worry
Valid.
You worry about life including money, future, potential problems and more. You have a hard time finding peace because there is so much that can go wrong. It's time to step back and breathe. You have to start trusting that everything will be ok. Trust God that He will bring you through because He will. Times will get hard but if you trust in Him He will provide it's when we take it in our own hands when it starts to bring trouble. Luke 12:22-26 "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear.Life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest? "

Well that was a good hour wasted! Thanks again facebook.

Mad Props to God, Jelly Bellies, and Wii Fit

2010-01-03T15:08:00.000-08:00

I'm not a huge fan of being sick. Nope really. Not at all. First of all, my coffee doesn't taste right. My dad got my mom this Keurig one cup coffee machine (specifically designed in HEAVEN). Its taken him about 20 years to figure out what exactly to get her that she won't return the next day...so props on the coffee maker dad! That one's a keeper!...(those shoes are probably going back though. Sorry. A for effort!) So even though he decided to "start her off" with a lifetime supply of the hazelnut grounds (not my personal favorite and seeing as I account for 90% of this house's coffee consumption while here, I feel like my preferences should have been taken into advisement) I am still quite happy with this particular Christmas addition to our family. Especially when sick and my body requires 3 cups just to haul ass into the shower.

Being a psychologist in the making (and chronic people watcher at present) I like to watch how different people handle being sick. Specifically in my family there is a HUGE contrast in self medication among individuals. My dad dislikes taking any medications...he's always prefer to sleep it off and wait for it to pass on its own (hmm... somewhat parallel to his method of handling emotional and interpersonal conflict...). My mother, on the other hand, is quite the opposite. Our house could easily turn into a Rite Aid pharmacy (not CVS though, since I'm currently boycotting them for not stocking the leave-in conditioner I like).

Personally, I don't believe drugs work. With the exception of anything sedative (I <3 NyQuil), I feel as though my body is immune to drugs. I also happen to be the 2% of the population that gets hyper off bennadryl (which I feel only further validates my theory on my body's atypical reaction to over the counter meds).

All this being said...I'm sick today. (I know...you're totally shocked and did not see that coming AT ALL.)

So I guess I'll be clipping coupons, cleaning, and eating all the orange flavor jelly beans out of my sisters secret stash (what? we have no fruit and that TOTALLY counts.)And maybe doing some Wii fit yoga since nobodys home (See Also: I was banned from using my sister's Wii Fit game because I went in and beat all her top scores...so now my little caricature's face pops up to rub it in her face every time she plays).

PS Does anybody else try to sound out those Captcha things facebook makes you type when posting links? No? Just me? k.

PPS I have to give some props to God right now... he must have KNOWN about my guilt complex about being sick and not being able to be productive and; thus, invented coughing so at least my abs will stay in great shape. Kudos God.

Things I Should Not Say. Ever.

2009-12-28T22:34:00.000-08:00

Let's face it; everyone is opinionated. The difference lies in one's ability to keep it to his/herself.

It is my scientific hypothesis that I lost whatever mental filter was supposedly there the day my grandfather stepped on my head at 2 months old. (we were on a boat in NJ. Long story. Don't ask.)

Coincidentally all of my "opinions" seem to be instananeously triggered when at my favorite place ever. The Mall.

->First and foremost; LADIES? Bra's are not optional. If they make your size you are obligated, as a sign of respect both to the bra industry and to my eyes, to wear one.(I will make an exception for my fellow AA-ers out there since, often, stores seem to think they do not need to carry our size...as if our cleavage size reflects our energy level and; thus, we would all much rather sit around and bra shop online and WAIT AN ENTIRE Fing WEEK FOR OUR BRAS TO ARRIVE).
While this is one of those "suggestions" that I can not very well vocalize without coming off as a HUGE bitch (I am nothing if not tactful. Always.) On the occasion that I am in the close proximity of a fellow female who has clearly chosen to forego hers...I often give in to my urge to comment via quick eyebrow raise and disaproving wince in her general direction.

The same goes for the mothers of pre-teens who have noticable shirked their bra-introduction duties. Health class does not cover Hanes vs Victorias Secret. Mothers, Take Note.

->The bathroom of any public arena is not, I repeat, is NOT THE GIRLS LOCKER ROOM. And my pee break after three hours of shopping (five tall coffee's later)? Is NOT your post sixth period gossip hour. If you want to socialize, go to Starbucks (and might I suggest their Christmas blend coffee?) but by all means do not sit in there seperate stalls and have a deep conversation about so-and-so's new purse or how many Midols you took today. Also? The stall walls? Not cement slabs. No need to shout. Lets practice our inside voices.

->If you walk really slowly in front of me I will shove my way past you. Same goes for driving.

->Girl in the denim mini skirt, tank top, and pink ugh's. You don't need to flaunt your new Coach purse. You attire clearly indicates that you are both wealthy and have a internal body temperature of about 100 degrees; seeing as it's winter and your feet are the only part of you reflecting that. And yes I DO go to the mall in sweatpants. Frequently. You should try it.

-> Couples who are verbally demeaning to one another in front of their children. I have multiple responses to this... mostly I just want to walk right up to the parents and ask them if they are aware, and ready to accept the fact that their sons are going to end up on an intervention episode, and their daughters have a 90% chance of either swearing off relationships or becoming overtly promiscuous.

My other tendency is to want to give them the names and addresses of all the child psychologists within a five mile radius with the words "save them while there's still time".

I swear I'm not this cruel, caped villain wandering the mall in search of my next victim. In fact, today I actually pulled an "OMG how old is your baby he's fucking adorable!" in H&M (I swear I left out the F word in said actual conversation).

D. You Have it Too.

2009-12-28T11:51:00.000-08:00

SO basically everyone and their mothers all either have OCD, ADD, ADHD, or if you're lucky like me...all three. (I also have TBD* but so far can't find any drugs online to correct that one...which brings up another concern of mine; do we think Oscar the Grouch from PBS sells street drugs? I think so. C'mon guys, dude lives in a trash can and is perpetually pissed off...totally something I remember watching on an ep of Intervention).

Anyways.

My "D's" have been in full force ever since Christmas eve...when I remembered the ever present issue of my father's affinity for "family memories." (See Also: My dad's unhealthy relationship with his digital camera.) The problem here? Let me explain...

Its the MORNING. This means
1) Bed head
2)No makeup
3)PJ's
4) No Makeup

So on the night of the 24th I began plotting my Christmas morning humiliation escape plan. It went as follows...
1) Set ALARM: This is key since, left to my own devices, I wouldn't be waking up until 11am. Yes...even on Christmas morning. I consider sleep my Christmas gift to me.
2)Yoga pants and sweatshirt: No too "dressed" as to create the illusion of a haphazard 'i-just-slipped-into-something-comfortable-and-OH!-look-at-that-it-just-happens-to-flatter-my-figure-in-photos'
3)Eyeliner: Washing my face would be easy to get away with...the trick is applying enough makeup to present a well-rested (since clearly I was not actually going to be), ready for the day-look without appearing as though I had stealthily applied makeup while the rest of the family waited impatiently for me in the living room.

It was a foolproof plan.

Completely.

Nope.com/mymother

11pm-My mom hands me my set of matching Christmas PJ's.
"Put these on before opening presents tomorrow."

Yes. I am a part of THAT family.

We did, however, realize that these are "all occasion" pajamas...seeing as the pants have bunnies, hearts, peace signs, AND skulls (my mom was slightly upset about the skull thing but got over it when she realized she would now have an excuse to make us wear matching PJs basically for every 2010 holiday). At least the shirt was black.
__________________
* TBD: Too Busy Disorder
_________________

I'll be sure to fill you all in later on the event that was our family Christmas entitled: "Who Let Grandma Have 4 Chocolate Martinis?" and its sequel "Who Took my Bottle of Red Wine?"

Happy Holidays.

Oh People. You are Lame.

2009-12-14T18:14:00.000-08:00

So I've never really been a fan of "killing people with kindness." It's completely ineffective, to say very the least. The only time such a phrase is valid would be when your opponent is specifically trying to piss you off, and you refuse to oblige.

In which case, it's not really "kindness" so much as "failure to reciprocate hostility." Right?

Anyhow, as a school rep (job in admissions. If you can call it a job.) I am supposed to be friendly and..."surprisingly upbeat!" (go watch how to lose a guy in 10 days. Now.) *(Speaking of movies...I'm currently watching a Fox Family Christmas movie "Holiday in Handcuffs" and, is it just me? or does Mario Lopez appear to be wearing lipgloss in EVERY cinematic appearance? Huh.)* OK so... today at work some woman called the office looking for information about our school. No. False. She called to further reduce my faith in humanity.

First of all, "tell me more about your school," is pretty vague.
Second of all, stopping me every time make a statement just to repeat it back to me? Is definitely not in your best interest.

This same woman then begins to inquire about our professors. Specifically, if they were all Christian. I told her that I would assume so...

What do you mean you assume...?
Well, ma'am, I mean I haven't had a class with each and every professor so I can't really speak to their religious beliefs.
I know most schools make their professors take a vow of faith. Do your professors have to do that?
Umm.. I'm not sure about that.
What I'm asking is do your professors have to take a vow of faith?
I don't know what is required of our professors... would you like me to transfer you to the head of our department?
Well I thought as a school representative YOU would have this information.
Look. Ma'am. I don't know the protocol for our teaching staff. Maybe? you should call the dean and ask him to what degree the school pursues Christan stringency?

Hostility was clearly warranted in that case right?

Problem #2 that pervades the admissions department: parents.

To all overbearing, enabling parents, Your children need to learn how to handle their own sh**.

I had a parent call me today saying that she wanted to set up a campus visit for her son, who had received information and been in contact with our school RE admission in the spring. I looked through our files, and databases, and could not for the life of me find her son in the system.

Then she suggests that the file might be under HER name, since she was the one calling the school and sending in all of the information on her son's behalf.

Sure enough...her son's entire file was under his mother's name.
*Sigh* Please teach your child the phrase "do you want fries with that" to prepare him for the best future not doing anything for yourself can provide.

Stats

2009-12-09T11:24:00.000-08:00

The title is just about as much mention as I want to make to statistics for the rest of my life. I got a B on the final though....so my plight to avoid Z scores and standard deviation from the mean for the rest of my life might just be feasible.

so I moved out of my former room yesterday. It was a hassle, to say the least. To anybody who dared venture unknowingly into my path yesterday? I apologize. For everything...but, in my own defense, when steam started coming out my ears and my eyes turned red? You prob should have stayed two steps back and five miles over. Capiche?

I can not really speak much to the actual event of the move in, since this blog is public and gossip around here spreads like the cup size of the new girl in middle school. I will just say that i FINALLY have my own room...and I plan to make the experience fanfuckingtabulous.

Ode to Rain: Basically? You SUCK.

2009-12-07T13:06:00.000-08:00

Hello Californians.

While I realize it must be a difficult concept to grasp; you can drive in the rain. It is possible. You can even drive...wait for it...at a normal speed.
YOU are the reason people crash in bad weather. You and your unfortunate mobility habits.

Anyhow. This is going to be quick because I SHOULD drive back to school while those last four cups of coffee are still fresh in my system. (See Also: While caffeine pulses through my blood, erodes my stomach lining, and makes life just a little bit more tolerable...but just a little.)

So after two days in a row of getting to apply the select portion of my eyeshadow collection that rarely sees the light of day, as well as dropping my eyelash application record from 30 minutes to a whopping 10...this morning I found it almost natural to load up the brushes and get to work.

Only after I looked in the mirror and saw the intense smokey eye did I realize that photoshoot makeup mode? Really needs to not be a daily thing. Especially when my plans for the day include sitting around studying (See Also: wasting time on facebook and procrastinating driving back to dorms) in my yoga pants and T-shirt.

I felt like I had to put my hair in pigtails or something to compensate for the favoritism I played my black eyeshadow this morning. Luckily?! I know how to french braid. (Special thanks for that skill goes out to my American Girl doll Samantha and her endurance of my hair stylist phase.)

Sooo the braids...

Epic fail. All I needed was two red ribbons before I became Dorothy's evil twin...(you know, the one they cut out of movie because she kept trying to seduce the tin man?)It's legit.

Anyhow, the moral of the story... I tend to form habits; do my makeup a certain way for a few days in a row and I forget how to channel it down.

Pretty sure the cleaning lady at my grandparents house today was impressed. (And by impressed? I mean culturally appalled.)

xoxo
-Meg

(Sat night makeup...side note:glitter is a B)

Quick Rants...Sorta.

2009-12-04T20:35:00.000-08:00

SO.

My brain officially thinks it belongs to Jeanne Calment. (You can go ahead and Google that one...I just wouldn't recommend a Google Image search, but totally your call).

But seriously. By 8pm I am DONE. Out. Over it. Oh college, what have you done to my youthful zest for life?! (And by zest for life? I mean late night party habits.)

It could have something to do with the three almost all nighters I pulled off finishing my theories chart, social psych experiment paper, lit term paper, and physhio current event... For more info on the theories chart please refer to the chapter on how learning theories of counseling simply exacerbates my addictions. Counterintuitive? I think yes Dr. Alexander. I think yes.

This would all be so much easier if I did not care so much about my grades...which reminds me to give a quick little shout out to my dad: Haaaiii daddy! thanks for passing on the OCD! I OWE you one.

On another note...and the reason I decided to break my blogging abstinence week... I started reading Kathy Griffin's memoir! Finally!

I swear we were meant to be BFFs. It's simply destiny!

Ok. Focus.

So she was describing a family feud about a sword! And it just reminded me...my grandfather HAS a sword. And I want to do a photoshoot with a sword!

Wait...that was the only reason I decided to blog tonight?

In other news, I went in to Hot Topic today and realized for the first time that, ever since I've died my hair black, they treat me like one of their kin. Suddenly there are far less looks passed among employees that clearly read "should someone tell her we don't sell rainbows, unicorns, and Juicy Couture in here...?"

In fact, the guy at the counter helping me check out started going on and on about how cool their new rewards card system is. "each time you shop here, you receive points! and even if you just want to come in to the store and say hi to us workers...because, ya know, we're so cool...I'll give you some points!

Hmmm... do I look like I frequent your store often? Better question...do I look like the type of person who would either a) get bored enough while shopping to stop and talk to you, my new cashier bbf or b)take the time to come chat you up just to get my points!..?

The answerer is c) None of the Above. Your store smells like weed and dust, and good luck getting your earlobes to stop looking like the titanic just drove through once you take out those gauges.

(I told him I would fill out their free points! membership card once I got home)

False.

The Mall... It Used to be my Happy Place

2009-11-29T20:48:00.000-08:00

Now it just makes me want to hurt people. A lot.

There is nothing quite like shopping at Sephora, the goddess of makeup stores. You get to pretend you can actually pull of that blue high pigment matte eyeshadow (woman in red with five 'try me' shadow palettes-You? Can not). You get to look at all the pictures of different styles to try (miss tween 'thang' next to me-You? Obv haven't tried a new style since you found one you liked...on Halloween. Fail). And you get to have the sales associate paint $300 worth of high quality cosmetics onto you 4 year old's face.

Wait. What?

Yes. It's girls gone wild toddler style.

Surely I make it out to be worse than it is... but I can not get over the fact that a mother would bring her kid in for a makeover. At 7pm nonetheless! This little angel (she's probably a little brat...but for argument's sake, we'll say she's a daaaaaahhhlll) should be watching a my little pony episode on TiVo (nay, not playing Barbies because her mother clearly had too much Barbie exposure as a child. Hence the prepubescent makeover predicament with her own offspring).

Sigh.

But don't worry... I gave the mother a "look".

Next adventure...

So I went into the craft store to see if they had some small rhinestones that could be used to line eyebrows, lashes, substitute a fake lip piercing... and ended up waiting in line behind a woman (who, I'm going to venture to guess, is one of those with waaay too many cats) who legit bought out the entire aisle of ivory yarn. (My theory? She's knitting herself a bodysuit. Get ready world.) Anyfuck... after grandma's fifty something skeins of new knit spanx were rung up the cashier actually had to nod at her to suggest that she...wait for it...pay.

Seriously woman? Why do people wait until the very last minute to go ransacking their purses in the hunt for the (ever elusive) wallet?!

Did you think that, perhaps, this time you wouldn't have to pay? Are you a shopping virgin? DID YOU NOT SEE THIS PART OF THE TRANSACTION COMING?!

Strapless black bra: $30, Craft Store studs: $3.99, My Tolerance for People: On temporary hiatus.

Peace, Love, and Eyeliner,
-Meg

After 21 Years...My Family Finally Gets Me.

2009-11-29T08:35:00.000-08:00

My grandmother bought me this shirt the other day...

In other news... I so don't want to go back to school at the asscrack of dawn tomorrow.

Today I'm giving my cousin and her friend makeovers (pics to follow)

...speaking of pics, it had recently come to my attention that I need to delete like 90% of the incriminating photos on my laptop.

PS Don't go see a Christmas Carol in Imax 3D... really? Too many graphic head shots. Nobody wants to see an animated Jim Carey's pores up close and three dimensional. Also? All the people looked like rabbits. Whoever did the animation, while creative in traveling scenes, clearly had a fettish with woodland creatures. I'll venture to guess he'll be the first to get a bootlegged coply of Alice and Wonderland when it comes out. And the ghost of christmas present looked like an Irish Jesus. There. I said it.

I Think to Much. Luckily? I have Learned to Censor...usually.

2009-11-28T14:34:00.001-08:00

So...I went shopping.
I KNOW RIGHT?!

Since there were so many people, and thus more time than I would have liked was spent waddling slowly down the mall aisles, I had a lot of time to think about my viewpoints on the whole mall set-up deal.
- enjoy.

Dear Forever 21,
Not Christmas yet. Please adjust your music accordingly.
-Best, Meg

Dear Mall Goers,
When you walk oh so slowly in front of me, it does not remind me to pause and take in my surroundings. Nay, it makes me want to shoot myself (and potentially you as well).) Please Fix.
-Best, Meg

Dear More Aggressive Mall Goers (Those of you who choose to shove your way through to your destination),
While I appreciate your moxy, such rudeness is reserved only for Yours Truly.
-Good luck with your anger management classes, Meg

Dear Abercrombie,
Your loud, obnoxious music, limited travel space, and non-existent lighting does not cause an anxiety-provoked increase in purchases. In fact, I sincerely believe your tactics are providing more business for the Korean massage and relaxation kiosk outside your store than for you.
-Merry Christmas from the rich Asians nextdoor, Meg

Dearest Dearest Victoria's Secret,
It's called a SALE. Please Google it.
-Best, Meg

Dear Girl In Font of me at Starfucks,
Just because it covers your butt that does not make it a dress and is thus not suitable for public wear sans pants.
-COVER UP FOR GOD'S SAKE!
Meg

Dear Audrey (the three year old I babysit for),
After our fourty-five minute argument yesterday about how the 'other' fish in the tank is just a reflection... and not "Rockstar Lucy"'s twin. I have decided that we are only young and nieve once.
-What will we name fish no. 2? -Megan

Dear Guess Employee,
While I appreciate the lack of bare legs, leggings are NOT a suitable replacement for jeans. Even if they look like denim spandex. Camel toe is not hot.
-xoxo, Meg

Dear Man and Woman behind me at Victoria's Secret,
I love the idea that you are bringing excitement into your (marital?) life with the purchase of a light-up stip pole. However, could you maybe put it in a bag of some sort? Displaying it out in the open - on the front of your baby stroller nonetheless - is slightly disturbing.
-Best of luck with your new purchase (and explaining its presence to the child to whom the stroller belongs), Meg

Dear Man (woman?)in the Black Ford Focus,
I will back out of my parking spot when I am good and ready. Beeping at me will only prolong your wait (and possibly provoke me to get back out of my car and thouroughly inpect all four of my tires.)
-Paitience is a virtue, Meg

I hope everyone had a fab thanksgiving.

Cup Number 3

2009-11-28T11:49:00.000-08:00

I'm not even kidding. I've had three cups of coffee...It's even more impressive when you stop to think of how long I've actually been awake this morning (2 hours-give or take the 45 minutes it took me to emerge from the mass of blankets I accumulated over the night*), and how much work I have gotten done on this theories chart for my psych class (one. freaking. box....out of 50). See? I'll venture to guess you are already in awe of my ability to down unsweetened caffinated chemicals.

This post is a personal shout-out to my family (who, thank God, will never see it...hopefully). Christmas is a time of giving, sharing, loving, and-in this particular family-drilling wooden figurines into the front lawn at the asscrack of dawn on black Friday. Of course, there is much more to be done than just wooden figurines. Wire four legges creatures must be assembled and stuck to the roof with staple guns and zip ties, the blinking light must be separated from the non-blinking lights, the baby Jesus must be thouroughly hosed down in the street before we chain him into the manger (holy, plastic baby-nappings are chronic in this area of town...obviously), disco balls must be hung, and the ever infamous snow machines must be strategically placed so as not to favor one area of the lawm more than the other. All this is done the day after Thanksgiving...because, according to department store playlists, THIS is when Christmas must be publicly announced.

Your jealous aren't you?

I had the job of hammering wooden posts into the lawn, then screwing (via power tools) the wooden soldiers, "snow people", white rabbits (obv a christmas must), and giant polar bear to the posts.

And after a long morning...here's to a house that was massacred by holiday cheer.
______________
*The window in my room doesn't shut... I spent a good three hours stuffing the giant crevice of cold with towels (circa bomb shelter). It was a fail. Brr.