Well That Took a Year Off My Life

So there I was, diligently working for once and studying a chart. I was totally zoned in on it and oblivious to what was going on around me. I looked up to input something into the computer when what do I see? A motherfucking black bear. I repeat, a big, real, BLACK BEAR. He was staring over my cube wall and staring right at me. I of course, being the epitome of grace under pressure, scream 'Oh JESUS!!' and flung my chair backwards, rolling into my cabinet and knocking over roughly 15 binders.

That's when the guys who were rolling the giant, real, stuffed black bear through my office appeared around the sides and apologized. They said they didn't realize anyone was sitting there and they were just resting the bear for a second. Then I started laughing. And they started laughing. And a coworker from across the office ran up brandishing a ruler, ready to take on the foes that she heard me scream at, and asked what was going on. It took me about 15 minutes to get the story out.

Hilarious. Albeit it took roughly 9-12 months off my life. Totally worth it.

Young Again

I am officially 14...again. I am angsty, I am broken out and damnit, life is just really unfair (arm tossed dramatically over face). My body is not dealing well with the stress currently. Last time I went through something like this I got crazy skinny due to the not being able to eat. That? Was awesome. Sure I was depressed and contemplating jumping off buildings but my ass looked fantastic.

This time not so much. To begin with if its made of food I'll eat it and then it's coupled with the fact that I am living like an pissy teen. I am listening to music too loudly and complaining to my mom that she just doesn't understand me. (that sentence must be read in a severely whiny voice).I also have a pimple roughly the size of Antarctica. They can see it from space. It's supremely attractive I assure you. All this is put together with enough angst to fuel a new Nirvana album. It's so bad I'm annoying myself, which is difficult as generally I think I'm pretty rad, although apparently with a vocabulary from the 1980's.

I am hoping this passes soon as I did 14 once and it sucked. This repeat is significantly less fun although it does come with some perks. Namely I am of legal drinking age and and capable of making some amazingly bad decisions. Now who out there wants to throw on some flannel, blast The Cure and get a tattoo? Just me? Rock and roll.

Keeping Occupied

When going through rough events I tend to take up a hobby. It keeps my mind occupied and from wallowing in depression. When I was re-acclimating to America after living abroad I took up crocheting because nothing says I'm a rockin' 24 year old like a series of handmade scarves. My dad died and I started writing. After my last break up I took up weeping uncontrollably and drunk dialing the ex. It was a really proud time in my life that I have decided to not repeat. So this time I am weighing my options and am currently thinking of taking up the guitar. Why you ask? Because I am tone deaf. And that'll be fun for my neighbors and friends. They'll HAVE to listen you see, because it's the break up hobby. They'll have to be supportive while I strum incorrectly and belt out my off key rendition of Tiny Dancer. (Side note, I sing this song often, especially when drunk and always off key, but it will be fun to add in some accompaniment). Don't believe me? Please look at Consulting Girl and the horrible scarf I made her wear around even though it was July.

I'm a giver. Time to look up guitars.

Self Diagnosis

I am allergic to my job. I have proof! (And by proof I mean a theory) All last week when at work I was charming by which I, of course, mean sniffly, sneezy and feverish. You know, all around the perfect coworker. But come Friday night? Totally healthy. I remained totally healthy all weekend thinking I had somehow magically shaken off my cold through the magic of sheer will and wine. However, this morning when I woke up? Sniffly, sneezy, fever. I remained that way all day until I returned home. I think I should go on disability and have these checks sent directly to my new home on a tropical island. I'll be the non sneezy one in the hammock with a margarita.

Something to Consider

Today at the laundromat homeless complimented the fact that I seemed to really like the book I was reading (I do, it's awesome) and the way I fold my clothes. Then he proposed. It's nice to know I have options.

We've Decided I'm a Super Hero

Tonight at dinner Ms. Liz and I decided that I may actually be a super hero, and just not aware of it. I have a uniform: snowman pajama pants and tiara. I have a skill: ability to record stupidity via written word and photo. Oh and I can drink bottles of wine in a single bound. Ergo, totally a hero. I think I will start to put this on my resume.

And now an open letter:

Dear Girl From College that I Keep Seeing All Over Town:

Hi. I get it, we hated each other 6 years ago. (Perhaps you are my nemesis, thus relating to earlier part of blog?) You are pretentious. And a bitch. I assume you still are as every time we see each other you very obviously duck your head and scamper away. It kind of makes me want to run up to you and give you a big ol' hug and kiss. You have been warned. Ergo, take head out of ass, put college behind you, and stop acting like an idiot, smile, move on and realize that when you make a big show out of ignoring me I CAN SEE YOU. Seriously. Because if you keep doing it and I see you when I'm drunk, I will probably make a big show out of seeing you and lick your face. This may be why you hate me. Whatever.

Hugs and kisses (seriously dude, it will happen)
Me

A Day at the Doctor's

Went to the doctor's office today where I had the following conversation:

DR: Do you drink alcohol?

Me: Yes please.

DR: How much would you say?

Me: Well, generally not much, maybe one glass of wine a week, but in the past couple of weeks, roughly all the wine in California. I guess over a lifetime that would average out to 'moderate'.

DR: Mmm hmm. And are you on any prescription medicines?

Me: Birth control

DR: And are you sexually active?

Me: Not at the moment.

DR: Why then are you on the pill?

Me: Hope?

Not a smile. The man just wrote something on his little pad of paper and nodded. I believe what he wrote is 'poor girl, perhaps she needs a drink'. At least that's what I hope. That or he was just doodling the sentence 'I'm awesome' over and over again. As that's what I would do had I actually gone through with medical school.

A New Definition of Class

This weekend I got drunk while wearing a tiara and watching season four of Gilmore Girls. I also cried a lot. I'm not going to state what's going on, as it's a severely difficult time for me, but I'm sure y'all can piece it together.

But let me state, for the record, wearing a tiara (and snowman pajama pants) while drinking a bottle of red wine may be the classiest I have ever been in my whole life. This also includes the time I skidded down a hill on my bare ass (was wearing a skirt. it had flipped up) in Napa in front of 200 strangers. Oh and then I limped into Wal-Mart and bought bandages. Also classy. My life has basically been an exercise in class and refinement but this weekend truly took the cake. I think I may start wearing my tiara into work.

A New Discovery

I have decided it's time for my lazy ass to get back to the gym. This lead me to today's discovery: apparently if you don't go to the gym for, oh, roughly 1.5 years, you will get really, really, really out of shape. I hurt. And am very tired. After a work out that used to be my warm up.

I heeded my direct message from God all weekend and I sat my ass down and I ate-ith of the Cheetos. They got me through. Now it's time to pay for this. So excuse me while I hobble off and take a nap. Stupid elliptical machine with it's stupid pedals.

Oh, side note: Step Up 2 the Streets is my new guilty pleasure. It's fantastic. Kudos to any movie that can work in a Funyon reference. And have a dance in the rain sequence. Here's a tip from me to you, it's even better after half a bottle of wine.

Sit Thy Ass Down

Today Liz and I were going to go to yoga. Restorative yoga to be exact. It's supposed to help soothe the soul and heal emotion hurts while stretching the muscles. I figured after the week I had I could use a little healing, or a lot, and stretching. That is until I received an email from the yoga studio this morning alerting me to the fact that a pipe burst and flooded the studio, canceling only two classes, one of which was mine. I am taking this a direct message from God. That message is clear: Sit thy ass down and eat of the Cheetos. They have restorative powers. And crunchy goodness.

Valentine's Day

Tonight I drank a bottle of wine and watched America's Next Top Model. I. Rule.

Oh, and today I saw Ryan Seacreast. He's wee and I could carry him in my pocket.

Accident Prone Kind of Day

Seriously, after today I am shocked I still have all my limbs. If I have carried it today, I have dropped it. And beyond. Tonight Ms. Liz came to keep me company while I baked. I decided in light of the not so fun-ness that is Valentine's Day I would make red velvet cake balls, side note, mine look nothing like the picture but they are quite tasty. I mixed the cake and put it in the oven then sat on my kitchen stool to talk. We then moved to the living room. About 20 minutes later, when I got up to check on the cake, Liz noticed red dye all over my ass. It was then we realized that I had sat in cake mix on my kitchen stool and then transfered it to my couch. Good times. So I hopped around and ran in small circles panicking then promptly took off my skirt and soaked it in the sink. Liz has now seen me in my panties. Such is life.

Cut to 2 hours later when I spill the chocolate I have just melted all over my hands. 3rd degree burns are totally in this season, so I'm good. I then while cleaning the chocolate bowl dropped it and had it shatter. For my finale I realized that my phone was in my skirt pocket that was currently soaking in my bathroom sink. I.Am.AWESOME. Phones totally work after spending an hour submerged in water, right? RIGHT?

On a side note, yet again, yesterday's post made me think of a friend's story. A good friend of hers grew up in Boston. When he was around 7 his mom took him and his older brother to Target. When they went to get into the elevator Donny Walhberg was getting off. His mom, knowing he was a BIG fan of New Kids, and really, who wasn't in 1987, (shut up, you know you were) pushed him and his brother towards Donny for an autograph. His brother totally stepped up to the plate and got the autograph. The hero of our story? Hid behind a car, cried and shit his pants. Yeah. He did. His mom occasionally over dinner , especially when he brings a new lady friend home, likes to say 'remember that time that you shit your pants because of Donny Wahlberg?' And this is why I want kids. Especially kids that are easily frightened.

A Rough Day

So, I'm not going to lie, things have been rough in the life of Meghan as of late. I don't really want to go into it, but let's just say...bad. Bad news bears.

Ergo, we could all use some cheering up, so enjoy this New Kids on the Block video. Jordan wears leggings and dances in the rain. Amazing. Side note, when I was 8 I went to a New Kids concert and I was determined that Joey would see me from the stage, pull me from the audience and then we would wed. So, in honor of the special day I wore a green silk dress, pearls and patent leather heels. To a concert. When I was 8.

Orange Hat

I have a theory that all stupid and/or generally idiotic people should be given orange hats. Why is this, you ask? So that we, the non idiots, can identify them at a distance and reroute. Perhaps they should be given their own lane on the freeway too. I can just see it now, people driving nestled up other people's bumpers and one guy, going 10 miles below the posted speed limit with his blinker on. In an orange car. Hats are hard to see on the freeway.

The entire row that sat behind me during tonight's performance of Wicked would not only get hats but perhaps be dyed orange so as to make their idiocy more obvious. I will expound on this tomorrow. Until then, just know that I deserve a medal for not stabbing them in the eyes with a rusty spoon.

Restless

Ever get that restless feeling where you just want to go out and live? Get a tattoo, get drunk, run away to Spain? No? Just me? Well I have that feeling again. Restless. I have the urge to go out and dance and drink and somehow wake up in Seattle. But. (There's always a but isn't there?) I'm not. Because tomorrow my mom and my brother, two of my favorite people in all the world, are arriving. And they deserve a non hung over and in the same state me. They also deserve a clean apartment. So I am ignoring the restless and cleaning. But no one ever said I can't do that while drunk. Or whilst rocking out. I hope my neighbors enjoy the hardcore rap.

Things I Like

1) Business dinners at fancy steak houses
2) Fancy steak houses with fantastic mac and cheese as a side dish
3) Copious amounts of free wine
4) The word copious

Things I do not like:

1) High heels
2) Wearing high heels all day
3) Having to wear high heels all day and then walk down stairs because at 6:30 PM someone pulled a fire alarm

Wheeee!

A Wee Bit Messy

This weekend my mom and brother are coming to visit. I am incredibly excited about it. Except for one small thing. My apartment. It's a shade on the untidy side. And by that I mean I have a clear path from my bed to the living room and about 25% of my clothes are put away. This would be a small problem for most but it's a bigger problem for me as my mom is the female version of Danny Tanner.

My mom is the cleaning Nazi. The woman picks up lint from the floor, puts it in her pocket, and then empties it out in the trash later. She gets excited about organizing things. Me? I take all my belongings, spin around, throw them in the air and go 'Whee!'. For the past week I have attempted to clean but I have come to discover I don't like it. Not only that, I am really bad at it. My brain just doesn't work that way. I have a bag full of desk stuff that should be sorted and properly put away. What did I do? Shook the bag out into a drawer that was already full, squished it down and closed it. If my mom opens that drawer (or let's face it any closet or drawer in the house) she will have a heart attack. I may then also get grounded.

Maybe I'll just get her drunk the second she gets off the plane and keep her drunk the whole time? Could work. As long as I get her drunk in a very clean and orderly fashion.

Super Fat Tuesday

Things I have learned today:

1) That it is in fact, Fat Tuesday
2) That my voter registration, submitted 4 months ago, was not properly processed and therefore, void
3) That I have lived in 3 of the top 10 most miserable cities in the US

Today at work when asked if I was giving up anything for lent I responded 'religion'. I was given a dirty look and then went back to work. That was pretty much the theme of the day. I then joined in for the office wide Fat Tuesday celebrations and had cookies for lunch and wine for dinner. I think Catholicism should be like this every day. So should Judaism. And every religion of the world. In fact, I think Super Tuesday should be based around which candidate supports this diet and way of life. Whoever supports it gets my vote. I vote on the real issues. Because I am mature like that.

I Would Like Another Weekend Please

Dear Universe,

Would you kindly please stop kicking me squarely in the ass? I get it, I did something to make you mad. Perhaps I missed your birthday or deleted something off your Tivo that you had really wanted to watch. Whatever it is, I apologize. Kindly remove your size twelve shoe from my ass and let's hug it out.

Hugs and Kisses,
Me


This weekend wasn't the best. Yesterday was an exercise in frustration and rage wherein I feel I deserve a medal for not shooting up the joint. The vet kept forgetting to mix my cat's medication (he has an infection, hence the couch pissing) and I spent a total of 67 minutes on hold with them, while they said 'oh we forgot, I'll put in the order again and give you a call as soon as it's done'. They forgot 3 times until I showed up in person and made them mix it in front of me while attempting to look bitchy and not twelve. Then I left only to encounter WeHo traffic the likes I haven't seen before. Apparently WeHo got their days mixed up and thought it was Friday at rush hour. It took me 25 minutes to go 1.5 miles. It was at this point I contemplating abandoning my car and just walking to another state. To me, it seemed like the best option at hand.

I eventually made it home and went out with the girls. We had much fun and laughs, which was excellent and needed. It made me not want to buy a gun. Or move to Montana with all of my belongings in a cart so that I can avoid humanity. These are my back up plans. Well that or: find job as cupcake taster, buy muumuus, live alone but happy and full. All very mature options I think.