Monday, August 31, 2009


So you may have heard but my state is on fire. You see in Los Angeles we have two seasons: Pilot and Fire. We are currently in the latter of the two. Add to this a crippling heat wave and it feels as though we are living in a very smoky oven. Fun times, huh? Who wouldn't want to live here?

Yesterday I was feeling a bit sick (note: actually I have the death flu that is going around my office, it's fairly rad) so I went home to nap in the AC. Imagine my surprise when two hours into my nap I woke up sweating. In my delirium I figured I must have developed a fever. It took me about three minutes to piece together the fact that I had no power in my apartment. This was only after staring into my refrigerator for awhile trying to figure out why it was dark. What can I say? I'm quick on my feet.

After running around in small circles panicking about the potential for melting, there was a knock on my door. Apparently five apartments in my building were without power and I was one of the lucky few. Yay life! The powerless all held each other and wept and then I had the bright idea to call the power company. Big brain to the rescue! Finally, five hours later I had power restored. Apparently all of the AC units running at the same time in an attempt to ward off Death By Heat blew out the main power fuse for the building. That's what I like to call 'team work'.

So the moral of this story is: LA is warm, I am AWESOME in a crisis (approximately and hour into it) and that I like ponies. You knew I had to throw that in there.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009


Last night I had of the insomnia again. So as I wandered around my huge 600 square foot apartment at 2 AM I decided it would be a good time to pack lunch. This is what I just pulled out of my bag:

Logical, no? My brain is a magical, magical place to be. Apparently in my sleep deprived state I was craving nutrients. Thanks God I remembered the can opener as without that... awkward.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Seriously, No

So my friend Amanda volunteers for a youth group as she's a better person than me. Today she received an email from a girl in the group asking, seriously you're going to want to sit down for this, who 'McJagger' is.


She figured Amanda would know as it's like 'super, super old music'. Once I finished weeping for the youth of America I asked if I could respond to the girl. Amanda, being a giver, said sure. Here's the email I crafted.

Hi (name redacted),

Sit down, dear child, we need to talk. I know I am old and ancient at the age of 29, so lean in close so I can hear you.

Here's the deal... it's not McJagger, it's Mick Jagger. Look, here's a whole Wikepedia entry about him:

He is the current reigning bad ass of rock and roll. He is the lead singer for a band called The Rolling Stones. If you haven't heard of them please let me know so I can shoot myself in the face. The Stones are a legendary rock band. I know they aren't played on Kiss FM but trust me when I say they rule. Please go listen to Wild Horses (, I'll wait.

There. Wasn't that pretty? They also have many, many songs like I Can't Get No (Satisfaction), Start Me Up and Paint it Black. You may have heard these in car commercials.

So let's just leave it at this... Mick Jagger is a rock God, The Stones rule, and you need to sit your parents down and ask why they didn't teach you about important things.


And that's my Tuesday thus far.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

Dudes, I am going through another break up. I KNOW. This time I am instigating it as it is decidedly LONG overdue.

I am breaking up with my pharmacy.

The reason, you see, is my pharmacy is evil and incompetent. Generally I'm a nice person. Like too nice according to my friends. My pharmacy brings out the crazy bitch in me. So much so that I once, hands balled into fists, red in the face, asked my pharmacist in a not nice tone if he got his degree from Bubba's School of Medicine and Learnin'. I am not kidding or exaggerating. As I had Liz on bluetooth at the time she can back me up, if she's finished laughing yet (this happened a year ago).

Anytime I am forced to go there (at least once a month as I take the baby allergy medication) I end up walking back to my car, cursing and muttering under my breath. Last night as I ranted to Liz about their latest fuck up she exhaled and told me she could no longer support this abusive and dysfunctional relationship. So I am doing it. I am changing pharmacies and giving up. I can't change them. I can't make them in to who I want them to be. Ergo, I am moving on, head held high. So screw you Rite Aid #5452, you never deserved me. So take one last look as I am walking out that door to someone to treats me better.

(I'll miss you)

Monday, August 17, 2009

Jabba The Cat

When going through my latest trip photos I stumbled upon this gem. It's one of my kittens. I use that term loosely.

He's not fat! He's just big boned!

Back! Again!

I really need to get better about saying 'hey, I'll be out of town for awhile, don't expect any posts'. But sadly, I am not that girl. But hey, I was out of town AGAIN and didn't post. Sure it's a little late but it's better than nothing, right?

I have been on like 42 flights in the last 12 months. No joke. I would say roughly 75% of those are for work. Even if they aren't explicitly for work I work on said trip via my blackberry. Yep, I'm that girl. As such when I am back at home I huddle in my house and clutch my cats while hiding. It's pretty awesome for my social life, I assure you. Luckily I only (as of now) have one more trip coming up for work for the rest of the year. This fact makes me want to do many jigs of glee. Epic jigs with a band and balloons. Perhaps a pony there for good measure.

What I'm saying is this: I'm tired. I really hate LAX. And I like ponies.

Monday, August 10, 2009

The Tub Story

So, believe it or not, I'm a modest girl. Like uber modest. I wear a lot of J. Crew and think v-necks on me are kind of slutty. Oh yeah, livin' it up! Somehow I decided it it was a really good idea to take my super modest ass, strip down and soak in tubs with strangers. My brain is a magical place to be at times.

How this all started was of course: Liz. You see she's a big fan of these day spas in Koreatown. For $15 you are given access to a room full of spas and saunas. The only catch is that you must enjoy said spas and saunas totally in the buff. This would be fine if they oh, let one person in at a time. However, that does not good business make and thus it's open to lots and lots of people. Lots and lots of naked people.

As this is the year of Meghan Conquers Her Fears (see jumping off cliffs, parasailing, internet dating) she suggested I get over my fear of The Naked. Apparently I had some sort of mental breakdown and I agreed. And that is how two Sundays ago I found myself in Koreatown with one of my best good friends, desperately clutching a paper thin robe and then walking around in what can only be described as Blind Panic in Your Birthday Suit.

Dudes. It is awkward. And yet? Awesome. Especially the giant tub full of boiling tea. Boiling tea that you sit in, with like 15 other naked chicks. Trying desperately to keep your eyes looking upward. It's HARD. There is a natural tendency to stare at well, the sea of boobs. To judge. To take note of any new waxing techniques. To judge.

After about 2 hours of soaking though you relax. You lay around on the jade floors in the buff and stop thinking 'how in God's name can this be sanitary????' and instead focus on the 'Wow, this is comfy and I could take a nap'. You also forget you are TOTALLY FUCKING NUDE and just kind of walk around and haphazardly soak in tubs. Then you get ready to leave and put back on your clothes and balk at the restraint jeans provide.

Then about an hour later you have another total mental breakdown because hello, just spent the afternoon naked with strangers.

And yet? Will totally do it again. Again, my brain is a magical, magical place to be.

Thursday, August 06, 2009


My throat, it hath healed! Now that I am amongst the land of the living yet again I can tell some of the tales I teased. Well, two of them. The naked one deserves it's own little entry.

- So at said work event last week I was bending down to hang a lanyard around a child's neck his mom asked me a question. I looked up to answer and as I opened my mouth to do so the kid leaned in and coughed. Into me. On purpose. His mom turned beet red and dragged him away without uttering a word. Now that's some responsible parenting. And as it gave me the plague I am going to hunt them down, as God is my witness, and cough on the mom. Or make her buy me a pony. One of the two.

- Bleeding from the face... well... let's start with the fact that I'm delicate like a fucking flower. No joke. It doesn't help that I am a girl, A, and that B, a girl who enjoys lotion and therefore has super soft albeit sensitive skin. So when I choose to kiss someone with stubble the chances I will get abrasions are fairly high. Especially if it's been awhile since kissing a boy with stubble. Then abrasions of epic proportions are essentially guaranteed. And then I have to lie to people saying that I am either having an allergic reaction to coconut or had a bad facial. Yeah. Totally believable, right? So after said abrasions had set in I went to sleep that night. During said sleep I kept dreaming that moths were landing on my face (due to the fact that moths had flown into my apartment earlier and thus were taking over and I had spent 2 hours chasing them around). As my dreams are crazy realistic I tried to swat them away and kept smacking myself in the face. (I'm awesome) During said smack I apparently ripped off a piece of my skin. Thus, I ran around in small circles freaking out for awhile, as you do, and then worked on getting the bleeding to stop. It wouldn't. Not for awhile. So then in my panic I was like 'fuck, I'm going to have to go to the hospital and explain this and while they finish laughing at me I will die from blood loss.' This scenario seemed entirely plausible at the time. Luckily the bleeding did in fact stop and then I put band aids all over my face. And then added a tiara for good measure. Sex-y. It really is a wonder I'm single.

Oh and to answer your question Chuck, when wearing a tiara the appropriate attire is a bra and oversize pajama pants. Otherwise you just look stupid.

Tuesday, August 04, 2009

Throat Throbby

Sorry for the prolonged absence but it seems I have the plague. Last week I had lost my voice. I figured it was due to the Big Giant Work Event wherein I had to talk for 18 hours straight, 4 days in a row. Sure a baby had coughed directly INTO MY MOUTH but whatever. I got my voice back and went on my merry way. That is until Sunday.

Sunday Liz and I went to a place wherein we had to sit in a tub naked together. That entry is to come later, promise. Upon leaving the tub place I felt a it feverish. Was this due to the fact that I had just sat naked in a room with 30 strangers? No... And my throat kind of hurt. By the time I got home I was rolling on the floor, clutching my throat and begging for mercy. Side note: the author of this piece may become a wee bit melodramatic when ill.

So yesterday I went to ye olde doctor and he gave me medicine and told me it's either strep or laryngitis, results pending. So, now I am quarantined in my little apartment and losing my ever loving mind. I have watched A LOT of bad tv, pranced about in a tiara and napped. This was only the 1st hour. I don't do well when totally cut off from society nor do I do well when I wake up bleeding from the face. But that's an entirely different story as well.

Oooh, suspense!