sonia, you're an idiot.

thanks a lot, you genius you, for showing me the "stats" shit on this blog. it was disturbing. it continues to be disturbing. i don't want to know that shit. i write awful stuff on this blog and it's weird and embarrassing and stupid that even YOU guys read it. you would think i would censor myself, just a little, but i don't. many times i even cross boundaries here that i wouldn't even do in real life, which says something....significant. anyway, thinking about strangers reading it is just weird so i'm contemplating going private like acacia's....but then like erin and roxy couldn't read it. blerg. i don't know. what i do know is that my stats say that my blog has had 32 pageviews today alone. eek! what is wrong with these strangers around the world?? don't they have anything bettter to do...? i don't want to censor myself so i guess i'll just ignore the stats link until i decide to go private or not... WHAT SHOULD I DO?

an ode to bread

hey y'all.

this is what i really want for my birthday:

no gifts because i really don't deserve any of y'alls money. i'm not that nice, not that good of friend, nor gift reciever. so let's skip that shit. there have been some whispers, or in erin and courtney's case, rather blunt exchanges. have you ever been to a birthday party for children? and one of the children won't stop screaming cuz she's just a little attention attractor? well. there you go. i don't want to exploit this anniversary of my birthday by acting like a selfish asshole, because i do that on a regular basis. y'all deserve 365 birthdays each year, but i don't.

so...i want a cute little blog-community gathering on the weekend prior to my monday birthday. YAY. that'd be cool. i'll work on that.

forty fucking fortnights, forty fucking fortnights

for forty some fucking fortnights i have done many-a-thing wrong.

1.) I did not ask for the Bo Burnham CD until today.
2.) I did not go to Bo Burnham's concert on October 31st.
3.) I did not experience the true beauty that is a Bo-gasm.
4.) I'm blogging about this, still in a state of Bogasm, yet to have recovered.

i don't know what it fucking is, these blogs. is it instant gratification? i ask myself. no that's not it...i didn't even have comments before so i don't see how this could possibly be (once again) a reflection on the "me!" generation. but something happened, a mere 20 minutes ago, that altered my state of being so intensely that i wanted to blog my brains out. which is how i feel about a lot of things (because they are "stories i'm dying to tell you"? yes, but maybe) because i have a NEED to write, to express my feelings ideas bo-gasms in word format. actually, when this intense alteration occurred, instead of manifesting physical expression, i got up and wrote my ideas, my words words words on a fucking post-it note, momentarily believing that i could last that long (before i blogged about my breakthru.) you may be asking yourself at this point (why wouldn't you be asking yourself questions inside blogs, that's how i roll...) what the fuck is meghan talking, or rather pretentiously "manifesting/" writing about this time?

i'm writing about bo burnham and my experience with him in my bed.



oh, how i fucking wish that's what literally happened. no, but let me walk you through it step-by-fucking-step before i vomit up bo-juice.

today sonia finally gave me the bo burnham cds that i've been asking for. patiently asking for, though, because i didn't find his wordswordswords to be of great importance at the time. oh, how fucking wrong i was...(this should go on the list above!)...when i put it on my iTunes and then my iPod today, it just sat there for another 12 hours. apparently, i didn't deem private-bo-listening-time to be more important than hanging out with sonia, and oh, how once again i was painfully wrong. when i listened to bo on my iPod in bed (you can blame this toomuchinformation moment on sonia because she is clearly the instagator) i went through many emotions. first it rattled my brain (as i heard it would from stina), his ridiculously clever lyrics. then it went to my heart. my gracious, open heart. said heartstrings closed though, and shall only open again for him and him alone. then....then his wordswordswords moseyed their way down to my vagina. my very very open vagina. mournful sigh, mournful sigh, how i wish you could present yourself better in blog-form....

anyway, i went through shock when i first blasted "art is dead" that took me on a tumultuous (now learning) journey that led me to do such stupid acts like scribbling a blog on a post it note and pouring my vagina  heart out to sonia (the instagator) in text-form.

and believe it or not, this all happened after i wanted to get bo concert tickets and after i wrote the bo lyrics list in the top, right-hand corner. it was a miracle. i'm gonna look back on this blog and cry out blasphemy, for it probably sounds outrageously bat-shit like some crazy c*** (get used to this word, ladies, it's officially part of my vulgar vocab)...


OH CLUSTERFUCK!!! i don't like feeling this crazy towards an artist. because that's what he is. an artist. this holy holy man. he says in his song, "art is dead" that artists should not be revered or respected. well, does wanting to pork the shit out of one count?









someone help me

college

"education is overrated." sonia


1. would you rather.....pay 31,000 dólares or be dirt-poor for a year, then pay $9,000 ??
2. would you rather.....pay mo money, mo money & be far from fam or pay less money, less money & ...
3. would you rather.....work for four extra years instead of college or....work for four years and go to college?
4. would you rather.....

i half-assed this post more than my high school post...work

vole-da-mort, oh, vole-da-mort

weezer, you speak...to my vagina.

not much has changed..

except instead of molly acting pissed to be playing with me, she just doesn't play at all. (this is an actual candid shot...pretty funny...and sad...actually this is a ploy for y'all to admire my beautiful hair before puberty fucking murdered it...god that color, that smoothness..)

in retrospect, this is probably a huge reason as to why i don't like playing games anymore....damn you, psych 1!

fuck you native americans aka happy thanksgiving y'all!

and:

Colbert: "Thanksgiving is a magical time of year when families across the country join together to raise America's obesity statistics."




Hey, y'all. I love Thanksgiving. I'm being genuine here. Why? No school. Hey do you guys like when I ask questions to myself in writing? I think it's pretty f-in douche-y but I repeatedly do it, and I shall continue, through out this post.  


But like I said, I'm a fan of all School-Is-Not-In-Fucking-Session holidays. However, this holiday can really suck my nonexistent dick. We get Christmas off for the Christians to celebrate Jesus, we get St. Patrick's day off, once again for the Christians, to celebrate the Saint Patrick. We get Veteran's Day off to celebrate Christina's birthday.We get Martin Luther King Day off, right? He was a great man. You know who were not great men, though? The fucking Pilgrims, that's who. I know they started this whole diverse, American population thing, but they made a lot of mistakes along the way, and I think it's a little weird that we celebrate them in holiday-form. For instance, they drove the Native Americans off their (what?) native land, and then slaughtered them.  


Even in our AP US HISTORY CLASS, we barely even touched on the "Indians" (as we're apparently supposed to call them, because textbooks enforce the logical). In fact, we didn't even talk about Thanksgiving at all, which I thought was weird considering we spent months on the "first" settelers of North America...And then the textbook got to the "Trail of Tears" which I thought was a pretty important part of history. But then we neglected to touch on that. We did talk for three days on whether Andrew Jackson represented the "common man" though.  


My point is (you had a point? yes) that Thanksgiving is a really fucked up holiday. I know you guys have heard this from me before (I know last year, I think, we had a pretty long bus discussion on it), but I'm just so darn confused as to why we're celebrating how we fucked over the Native Americans, by eating the shit out of their land, etc. 


This is my interpretation of the age-old story: So a long time ago, some mad-religious British peeps invaded this country and started to settle because they believed the native population to be quite inferior. So inferior in fact, that they belived the native people should be rapidly extinguished from the face of the Earth. But before they could kick them off their land, kill their livelihood (the cute-as-fuck buffalo) and rape and kill their women, they had to first steal some of their scavenging techniques. As it turns out, these inferior people actually became quite useful. After they taught the Pilgrims and such how to plant corn (and such and such) they began to become really annoying. How dare they stay on that land, when the White Man so clearly deserves it! So poof! Trail of Tears, et cetera et cetera. And now, even in the most modern of societies, we celebrate the day the native people taught us some shit about food and how we pretended to appreciate them for it. And then we eat a bunch of meat and food until we're so stuffed we have to throw that shit out....but I won't go into that and displease any more. I'm gonna shut my fucking trap. Just like....nevermind. 

The choice of this picture has nothing to do with the President featured. I don't wish to offend anymore Republicans. 

rally to restore sanity

like a month ago Colbert and John Stewart hosted the "Rally to Restore Sanity" in Washington D.C.... I don't really know how to explain it because I really don't get it, but it was mocking...crazy government people...? Funny or Die posted a bunch of people's signs who went, and i picked my favorite.

a downward spiral of success and fame

Ke$ha: The Story of the $ from Kesha

the kids are alright.

i'm not gonna lie to you, internets. i've had my heart set on watching the kids are alright since those goddamn commercials started 6 months ago. i hate when they do that---they advertise the shit out of a "limited released" film that shows in like 6 theaters domestically and then they set the dvd release 6 months later. i hate it!!!!!!!!!! i'm very passionate about my movies. funny, i was actually talking to ragan about our shared passion of the cinema...funny.

anyway. the kids are alright is a brilliant movie that came out on itunes for rent a few days ago and i've been dying to see it. the reviews (6 fucking months ago) were amazing but i couldn't see it in theater because like i said: it was in limited release aka inaccessible to the goddamn suburbs, and also (not said earlier) because it's about a gay couple. it's unfortunate, but even today, even with us, there is still some sort of stigma (i use and misuse this word too much) about wanting to see a movie like this. admittedly, there was gay sex...but that wasn't the fucking point. the movie was amazing and i have a huge crush on mark ruffalo. or whatever the hell his scruffy, beautifully sculpted (arms) name is.

the movie is set in california, and i won't bore you with any more details (you've got to see it yourself) but it was a beautiful setting. with julianne moore's hair, and the california sun and rufallo's sexy scruff, i was in heaven. unfortunately, when the movie finished i was not as happy as one would think. this always happens to me, and i'm frankly sick of it. here's the deal:

i'm such an influenceable person that even a movie can sway my emotions for days and days. sometimes i fall in love and retain a giddy feeling for way too long (e.g. Adventureland, The Social Network, Psycho) and other times (most times) i become depressed: i experience withdrawl symptoms as if i miss watching the movie (The Kids Are Alright, Harry Potters, The Invisible, When Harry Met Sally)

this is not where i wanted to go with this. i wanted to navigate more towards why i'm feeling so sullen now. i think mostly because i'm lonely (wow you're writing a blog and you're lonely? how original) right now and i'm jealous of stupid mia warskjklagjs (i don't know why i say the actor's name instead of the character's) going off to college in stupid california. fuck. and it's pretty dark in here. i need some vitamin d. oh wait. it's night time and winter time so no sun forever. fuck.

hey you guys

that was me mocking sonia's post title, for i don't know what reason. it's fun to be irritating.

so, i was thinking of doing that people blog some of us were talking about, but then i was thinking that that could get...sticky and or offensive....let's start!


ACACIA


Acacia can be a very nice person when she wants to be. She can be a very funny person when she doesn't mean to be. She is in Japan right now, and I miss her...dearly. There is a hole in my arm where her soul used to be (I didn't want to say "heart," because like i said, sticky.) When she comes back though, that arm-hole will be filled with Ramen, and Jake Gyllenhaal, and and and making fun of Sonia and basically all her favorite things. Does that make sense? I think I got the metaphor wrong, but just kept going with it anyways. Oh, Acacia, if you could see me now...(she loves it when I get things wrong.)

sister act

i have no fuckin' idea why this has 14 million views:

and this has less than 200,000:




...it's just fuckin' hilarious...why do i do this instead of studying....?!?!

this is one of my favorites.

i'm clearly tired from pimpin' all over the goddamn world. it's exhausting work, y'know, pimpin'...kak's been doing it longer than i have...clearly

i was listening to pimpin' all over the world

and because i like doin my pimpin in japón, i was reminded of these, and thought i'd share them with y'all.  i have nothing better to do. no math grades to celebrate. :(

from my perspective, so no nasty pix of me here. for the total experience, listen to the video:



 (she clearly has no boundaries)

(cannot have a ssexual joke made out of---IT'S A PENIS)

 (poor christopher robin)

 (i didn't instruct them to make the exact same face. but look closely...as they totally do)


i would like to take this opp to tell y'all that i took the best japan pix. acacia took really shitty ones (of me) and sonia neglected to bring her camera most places. fuckwads. i mean, c'mon...mine tell a story. 

now wuhhut.

what does a fat nerd do on a monday night? you would think a math league competition, but i leave that to the real passionate geeks. no, i limit my activity and unlimit my food intake and just...relax. like frankie wanted all dem british chicas to do.

the only homework i have can easily be done last minute in class, so why even bother opening my backpack when a world of opportunity lies beyond the classroom and in the television? 

one slight bump in the plan is my committment to feed carey's dogs tonight and let them out. this may deepen my resent, but also my pockets.

i have nothing else to say.

it's like no-hands-sexy, except it's no-drums-sexy

i wish i understood their ironically patriotic guitar.

wahh my nose is still cold

i used to not like photobooth. i said that i found it boring, which is true, but mostly it was because i already saw my face has being distorted; ugly. so seeing it like that on purpose, didn't exactly amuse me. insightful, no? now i have no problem with it...idk.

re my nose could hook a fish

i may or may not have just experienced an epiphany. usually my epiphanies resemble discovering that 2+2 indeed equals 4, so one cannot really categorize said ephiphanies anymore.

anyway, i now have a theory as to why my nose is always so damn fuckin cold. damn fuckin. because the surplus of skin that resides there attracts freezing molecules (?). once upon a time, i used to flick that skin upwards as somesort of crude joke every two minutes, thus imprinting a fat line in the middle of my nose. perhaps you've noticed it. once in a while it will show itself....and so created the extra fat on the tip of the iceberg that is my nose.

so when temperatures drop significantly my whole body centers around one small (relatively) part of my body that is my nasal enclosure. as of right now i'm in a basement so alll i can think about is how to warm up that particular area. any ideas?

(for some reason my instinctive reaction to a cold nose is to place my hand directly in front of it.)

my 2009 songs

i've recently been listening to my iPod before bed and putting it on shuffle. this brings about one of two things: filler songs like "Mamma Mia" and "No One Mourns the Wicked" that i have to skip because....just not right now, broadway. and then comes my 2010 songs that i'm sick of hearing. and then (okay so i guess it brings about 3 things) i hear my nostalgia songs. songs from 2009 and earlier. these make me very happy. even though i was still thorougly depressed by school at the time, i somehow love reflecting on that year. it makes this year seem much worse, yes, but the music lifts me up to an angelic level. even songs like "run this town" bring me back to the morning bus----blasting it, sure, while i'm no doubt pissed about something that produces a "don't fuck with me" one-liner....but i was by my bus buddies....i don't know.  

at least voldemort had the BALLS

also, i would like to know why erin, molly, and i were the only ones to make a fuss out of voldemort's necrophiliac-like-rape scene that concluded the muthafuckin movie. WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

"nerdy chic" ...don't you read my blog?

today i got new glasses. in the store i was all confused, and when i asked for opinions, my mom and sister just said they liked them all. i finally narrowed them down, asked a third party observer who could legitmately help me, and then bought my favorite pair. molly liked the $220 ralph lauren ones because she's suddenly on him 'like a fat kid likes food'... i think that's the lyric. but i didn't get those. no.

when i got home, i looked in the mirror with my new glasses on and muttered a curse. why? my nose had suddenly been amplified much bigger than its already monsterous size (seriously, the extra skin at the end could hook a fish). so now, this is what i look like in my new glasses:

it's really unfortunate. on top of this disappointment, my dad kept saying (like it was a compliment of my new ones) "i really didn't like your old glasses. i really didn't like them." and i was like what the hell, "that hurts my feelings" you asshole and "you were there when i bought them why didn't you say anything" you fucking asshole. 

via nerdboyfriend.com

i don't know why but i have a crush on YOUNG dustin hoffman. it's most definitely because of Kramer vs. Kramer. which is also why i have a crush on meryl streep...(?)

it is movies like Kramer vs. Kramer that make me want to do a 100 movies countdown blog. but alas, i should try to make this blog a little tiny bit original. thanks, liz.




when i first opened this webpage to start blogging i had no intention to write the above things. at all. and now i don't remember what i wanted to write in the first place...


oh yes: i wanted to proclaim that i'm what i call an "untraditional open-minded person." now, i'm pretty sure i've known this all my life and i'm pretty sure that's exactly what you guys think when you talk to me. im kidding. but just recently this factoid about me was solidified (by me) when i became formally introduced with the country music arena.

first, i watched the CMA special on ABC about famous country singers right now. then i watched the chelsea lately video on youtube about blake shelton. he admitted to being a "hot mess," and this intrigued me. the only experience i've had with country music is from driving with erin and her mother when i was younger. (they're from texas...enough said.)

actually that's a lie. my first exposure was before we got cable over here at casa de me. for some reason we had the "GAC" or "Great American Country" channel though, and for some reason country music videos could hypnotize both molly and i for hours on end.

what i'm trying to say is, i'm open to it. i've known many many a-people say, "i love all kinds of music. except country." and i think that's just a bad stigma. afterall, they've got dolly parton over there. reba. loretta lynn. ...taylor swift.

nevermind.

because the youtube video is admittedly pretty gross...

(the youtube video of the following song) i will just put the lyrics here for you to enjoy:

Everyone knows the most delicious part of the muffin is the top. 

My muffin top is all that. 

Whole-grain, low-fat. 

I know you wanna piece of that,

 But I just wanna dance. 

Check checkin' out my sweet hips, 

My sugar-coated berry lips. 

I know you wanna get with this, 

But I'm just here to dance. 

So back up off of me, You're weirding me out. 

I'm an independent lady. 

So do not try to play me.

I run a tidy bakery. 

The boys all want my cake for free, 

But if you can't shake your fakery 

Then kiss my muffin top.

hell is

this guy is super cute, like me!


today was a shitastic day. no way around it, as laura would say. i just had all kinds of shitty bad luck. i think the people who believe in karma are either really lucky (obv they know about karma because they have to keep it happy) or really really unlucky. like me. it gets people like me asking the winds, what the hell did i do to deserve this?!
maybe tomorrow will be a karmic explosion of awesomeness. maybe it will be a bigger shitstorm than today. you know what i've learned though? when you start your day feeling tense...like your whole body is tense and the simple task of opening a door is annoyingly difficult...going to high school will be hell.

bitches best bow (down)

sonia: no it's not a pixie cut...that was exciting for a while there, tho

so i've been avoiding this for a long time

but it's about time i just go out there and say it: i am a man  i think being liz lemon is the dream



besides being, evidently, very racist, she is the dream because:

• she doesn't have a boring job
• she has okay friends (jack, kenneth, pete, sometimes jenna)
• she has an awesome apartment
• she can apparently eat like an animal, AN ANIMAL, I SAY, and not gain weight. she may not be a stick, but she doesn't gain weight. which brings me to my next segment..

list of characters that supposibly not a word supposedly eat a ton, but never gain weight/are skinny/it sucks to watch:

• liz lemon
• lorelai gilmore
• lorelai gilmore the third aka rory
• ok so it's not a huge list who cares
• oh wait giada de laurentis 
• yep that's really all i can think of oh man not successful

EVIDENCE: 

i'm just gonna say this...

....i may have a little girl-crush on first lady michelle. there's just something so magical about the way she dribbles that basketball alongside alison stoner (awesome last name) and other unknown disney actor.






ok this one doesn't show the basketball thing, but i'm pretty sure we've all seen it.

er, you're welcome! ?

tweets from the quirky-funny mindy kaling... (writer/actor for the office on nbc ---the weird more colorful campaign.... the first commercial i saw for that on nbc was with Abed from community and i was like wtf...)

word on the street yo

i've actually seen reruns of "coach"...pretty fucking lame. what about...golden girls, as they had some episodes set in st.olaf for rose...? or beverly hills 90210...cuz shannen doherty's character was from here...right? ehhhhhhhhhhh.

true true

i don't wanna jinx it (i am anyways) but this evening has been highly pleasant. which is surprising, because i'm hanging out with the fam.


WUHHHHT?!


yes, it's true. i mean, not true true, like liz lemon being the best person ever to be created/modeled after me true true, but sort of. i'm in my basement right now, secluded from my blood brothers (?) but here's what's happened so far that's made this normally awful evening pretty interesting:

• my dad is completely engrossed in the AMC's (television) showing of Pretty Woman/Julia Robert's boobs...this makes for sarcastic quips from me, eye rolling from molly, and apathetic pleas from my mother
• molly going on a tirade (directed at my mom, because my dad's too busy watching Pretty Woman with his mouth open) about us (the children) "missing out on our childhood" because our parents never took us to DisneyWorld. my mother counters by saying "You guys don't understand...it's a commercialized sweatfest and it's sooo crowded there! Your dad and I would've been in hell!" 
• my dad drinking champagne, but pretending he doesn't like it. this is funny in itself, but when he got up because his glass was empty, he reached for the bottle and KUH-PLOWIE (?) it explodes all over his face! hilarity! obnoxious hyena laughs and obscenities ensue
• molly comes down to the basement (where i'm blissfully blogging, watching 30 rock, and looking at EMMA WATSON'S REAL TWITTER ACCOUNT) and tells me the story of him having champagne exploded on his face/all over the kitchen. she then proceeds to slap the wall and just like that *instant sit-com magic* a glass frame of a record comes slamming down to the floor; glass everywhere. very entertaining. 

AND HERE WE GO AGAIN.

me, my sister, and my mother, sitting in the kitchen, eating lunch:


molly     (to me) You are in my phone as "Ugly Devil" and your speed dial is 66 because it wouldn't let me put you as 666.

jan         Ughh... (like she's upset about MOLLY CALLING ME AN UGLY DEVIL) this canker sore is the worst!


me         Seriously?!?

jan         hey! if you're going to be crabby than you can leave the room! just go!

molly laughs devilishly as i stomp off. how....awesome.

H stands for Help me Harry oh what a Hoot

Before I start blathering on and on about Harry and can't stop myself, I would like to address two things:

1. Christina: Please get on the whole blog thing. I know I speak for all of us, here at this beautiful blogging community, when I say, we cannot wait to read what you have to say/write. If you need help starting one, or whatever, please contact Sonia or me. Preferably me because I'm more likely to reply at an acceptable time after recieving said text, email, call, etc.
2. Lizzle, my Frizzle (referencing "friend" not frizz as you don't gots none): About the Spanish project, I'm going to work on it rather feverently (a word I just made up) this weekend, and utilize the book while it's in my possession. I'll give it to you Monday, if you want it.  Also, I'm very sorry but neither Sonia nor I will be attending the midnight showing of Harry Potter (I know you were notified about possibly attending with us). If you would still like to come with us to the Friday showing, we'd greatly appreciate it. And now...here we go...

Alright y'all. I'm not going to lie to you. I got started in the Harry Potter Fan World pretty late in the game. Approximately...3rd grade, I'm afraid to admit. I wasted a good 9 years of my life not appreciating its wonders. But when my soul mate good friend Roxy introduced me to mugglenet.com at the late age of 9, I grew...obsessed. To put it lightly. And so began my journey that would eventually isolate me from normal society and everything I ever knew...Just kidding. But when I see the Harry Potter "final" chapter in the saga bullshit advertising, I get very, very passionate. If not disturbed. My stomach knots up and all kinds of unfortunate things come out of my mouth. I wish this to end. Don't get me wrong, I love it with all my heart, but when I'm denied of seeing this "final" part nonsense as soon as humanly possible....it makes me very sad, very depressed, very ANGRYYYYYY!

So what do I plan to do to solve this problem? This angry, sad, depressing problem? I'm trying to isolate myself. I will not let myself get too excited about this upcoming event of a lifetime. When a commercial comes on the tele, my oh-so brave tele, I will change the channel. When my sister buys an abundance of Harry Potter t-shirts for her Thursday the 18th party, I will turn a blind eye. I feel like...it's for the best. 

Thank you for listening kind, kind Internet. 

my top reasons to watch THE EVENT

• there are plenty of hot men to see
• it's intense in the i-want-to-figure-this-shit-out-kind-of-way, which is awesomely refreshing compared to the different kind of  intensity i'm used to on tv..i'm looking at you, 90210. 
• the last scene in last week's episode went down like this: OMG IT'S SO FUCKING SCARY AND INTENSE...i almost cried last monday, watching this alone in my dark, dark basement

• i think we all know i have fantastic taste in television

THE EVENT, MONDAYS, 8 PM, NBC

super important proclamation time

ok guys, i have some news...i think....i'm a morning person.




i know, stunning.
not stunning like my face, but like, woah!, you are stunned by this news. it doesn't seem right. let's flashback to last year, on the bus, approx 6:55 a.m.... grey-clothed meghan covering her grey-complexion-al face with a hood, head slammed against the window, iPod blasting. a snippet of "good morning" and her face snarls so bitch-ily that it scares seat cohort, lizzle (as no one else was brave enough to sit with her) . she snaps at good-intentioned bus driver "sam" and anyone else who tries to make noise. 


that doesn't seem like a morning person, does it? no. but this year things have changed. i know i used to be a morning person because i would voluntarily get up at 5 and walk my dog around the block (unknown to my mother at the time) and then skip freshly to rkk, where i would bounce around til school started. but that was...i'm just gonna guess because i don't feel like counting, 20 years ago. i'm older now, life is worse shit.

but then i recently read somewhere that you know you are a morning person if you can eat a big breakfast. now, i have to eat a big breakfast because my internal organs (specifically my goddamn stomach--that's right stomach, i'm done sucking up to you) BETRAY me AT EVERY POSSIBLE MOMENT in SCHOOL. so i have to belly-up and take it. that can't possibly be the correct usage of that phrase (belly-up) but i don't know how else to use it.., so yeah i can eat large breakfast-es. anyway, another reason why i'm a morning person, is because i get really tired at around 7 p.m. and can't control the fatigue until BAM i'm asleep at 9 o'clock. and then it's 8:00 a.m. on my day off and i just have to get out of bed because sleep has officially started to irritate me.

and i don't feel like ending this one properl

"fuck you" and "fox news" synonymousness

oh man, i crack myself up sometimes...

me too guys, me too..

three things i learned today

• every two min someone in america is sexually assaulted. every two min.
• 1 in 4 women will get sexually assulted (in their lifetime).
• even assholes in extra-currics can (pretend to) care about this. 

international violence against women act. it's worth staying after school for.

go team. 

the lame-o crowd (cuz i can't stop blogging today)

it seemed like an ordinary saturday evening. Akaka and i were strolling down the kowalski's aisles after succesfully picking up some yummy sushi. our mission? we were trying to find some damn ramen. and we failed...it was no where to be found. but what did we do instead? we successfully created the club of rejection, or more notably known as the "Rejection Club" and then the world started to make sense again...

you see, over the course of several hours, we got rejected from so many people (not sexually. this is in no way sexual) it was astonishing! i would say that maybe it was our location that turned people off, but that's not possible, for we switched parking lots every few minutes! so alas, we had no choice but to take it personally...and then the Rejection Club was bourne(ultimatum).

AND SO THE WONDEROUS OCCASION SURMOUNTED ANY OTHER CLUB FORMATION IN THIS OH-SO HUMBLE UNIVERSE....

from now on you may call us Rejectee-1 and Rejectee-2 if you so like. because that...shall forever be our names. in our hearts. at least we had each other. otherwise it would've been just me, sitting in the car parked in a variety of different store or fast food parking lots, turning the music up too loud and texting various people only to get rejection upon rejection in return. ahh, the simple life.

to be a part of our club:
you cannot be. you must have felt the kind of peer rejection that we experienced; have had it coming in every single direction, for you to be a full-fledged member.



and to end this tremendous post of holy proportions, i would just like to say, you're welcome universe. you're welcome for submitting fresh invitations of "chill" and "hang"every 2 minutes. even though they were rejected, i suspect they lent an air of positivity to this cold, cold world.

court's blog: my fav pics thus far

(who didn't LOVE Cory in the House...that's this show, right?)

(who doesn't love a good dick joke)

(i saw this episode...almost pissed my pants when snooki said that and then hung up)

(we've all said this at one point or several.)

goodbye happy meghan, we hardly knew ye...

goodbye happy meghan.
goodbye thoughts of rainbows, and unicorns, and sunsets, and sunrises, and cabins.
goodbye random smiles and frownless hours.

hello constant frown, will you always be here?
hello pessimistic attitude, does everything really suck?
hello bed. hello humidifier. hello advil pm.

hmm? why the depressing words? well. well. well. for a while there, i thought i was done with the angsty-whining to my blog. i really did think  that the depressing side of meghan was gone and twas merely a memory of puberty's haunted past. alas, i was wrong. what a shocking regret. depression can encompass even the happiest of those go-lucky sort. perhaps i was never one of them. no..., that makes more sense anyway.

now if only i liked could tolerate poetry....

to be mildly germaphobic

as much as i gripe about how i despise the teacher's quirks, and i hate the consequences of having the class fifth hour, i still learn a lot from that retarded class called psychology 1. (excuse my language) (or don't excuse it, because you really shouldn't.)

a few weeks ago we we're learning about brain-developmental disorders. one day we had a substitute in class and naturally it became a work-day, in which we all should've been reading some chapter out of the textbook. as it turns out, i was the only one to read the chapter and everyone else played an obnoxious game of "skull-ball."    "skull ball," as my class named it, is where the 6 or 7 most obnoxious, idiotic, popular people of the class put on beer-goggles, stand up on chairs, and toss this paper-måché skull to one another, while everyone else watches in amusement.
except me. i'm in the corner with the textbook half covering my face and a hand sticking out to cover myself in case the skull comes flying at me... (which, of course, it did probably 4 or 5 times. because being in the corner, not participating in the game, and covering your face continunally definitely warrants a nice slam in the head from a paper-maché skull. it definitely warrants zero acknowledgement of said-slam except through muffled laughter and someone yelling "throw it back in!!" ...but i digress...)

so i'm reading the brain chapter and the section on autism comes up. i'm sure we all know some one with autism. the statistics demand so. anyway, there was a little tid-bit about a woman who was severely autistic but eventually worked through her trouble-areas and wrote a book about being autistic. it was a little weird to think about, being autistic and writing about it so the world knows what it's like. on the outside looking in, i want to say...but does that make sense...? well, it got me thinking about less severe disorders, and eventually it got me thinking about myself, and we all know that's my favorite thing to think about ;)

i started thinking about my little germ OCD. i know it's an obsessive-compulsive disorder because i'm thinking about it regularly if not...irregulary, if that makes sense. i'm at the locker? yeah, i'm thinking about it. i'm on the bus? yeah, i'm thinking about it. i'm sitting down in my desk? yeah, i'm thinking about it...i think about it a lot. there. and then i got to wondering what it looked like on the outside.

i don't necessarily think about the scientific facts involving germs or bacteria specifically (because we all know science isn't my strong suit...neither is math. i definitely don't think about how many times they are multiplying, etc.). but i do think about them being everywhere. absolutely everywhere. in fact, it's gotten to the point where it controls a part of me. not a large part, obviously, or i'd be in much deeper shit. but i'm talking about when, during regular occurences, i point it out to anyone nearby. and trust me, i don't find it a charming part of myself, to be shouting "don't touch that!" or "don't put that there!"
i don't even wanna think about what it's like from an outsider's perspective, how annoying that would be.

just yesterday i had an emotional flare-up in which this involved. molly had friends over after school. just that statement alone makes me shudder. because what does that mean? that means 3+ people NOT washing their hands, changing out of their school clothes, hiding their backpacks, disinfecting their various...tools (?) and all of them just swarming the basement. my basement. i'm taking possession of the area. i spend hours 4:00-10:00 p.m. down there almost every week day. it is my basement. i also have my bathroom down there (that way i don't have to share with molly, and thus...share germs.) and who's going to use that bathroom? her and her friends. their germs. so how did i emotionally deal with this? i swore. a ton. then i hid in my room the entire night. didn't come out. i couldn't, it was that hard not to blow up at someone for forcing me to deal with all those germs. if i came out and blew up at someone, that would be hard to explain. why am i mad that molly has friends over?? not because they're are annoying, or i'm anti-social! but because they brought their germs over! and who is going to have to clean up the next morning? me!

and i know it's irrational. at least i can see that it's stupid, right? it doesn't make any sense. if they are absolutely everywhere, multiplying by the kajillions, what's the goddamn point? no amount of clorox-sanitizing-wipes is ever ever going to change that. and that's what's so irrational. after i pretend in my creepy meghan world to "clean" said germ area, the feelings of anxiousness relatively fade...

i don't know how crazy i'm coming off here, but writing this is making me very emotional, very sad. i don't like being this way. i wish so hard that i could be back in grade school when i didn't give a shit about germs. i would come home from that germ-infested-snot-fest that is grade school and plop on the couch and eat shit without even thinking once about those goddamn germs.

how did i become like this? i don't know. it definitely wasn't a familial influence. my family is the worst when it comes to germs. they wear their shoes in the house and they... well i don't know what else. but they bug me. was it a societal influence? that doesn't seem logical. no one else seems to think the way i do about it. all i know is that i can't help it and i really wish i could just stop. i'm making progress though. last night i did not shower. nope. went to school, went to bed, and did not shower in between. horrary for progress...irrational, crazy, ape-shit progress.

for the win, part II

here's an update for y'all:

i did indeed find myself in bed at approx 7:15 p.m. 

hurrah! and it kind of worked....i watched all of the vampire diaries but as the clock struck the eighth hour i fell asleep and at like 4 a.m. i woke up in a panic thinking i had crushed my glasses. 

the end.

for the win

you know that feeling right before you get sick (and during said sickness) when you have this awful combo of the chills and a feeling of not really being inside your body? like you are just moving and moving and suddenly you're over here, but you have no idea how you did it, you just know that it was highly uncomfortable? well...that's me. that plus a sudden case of the throat tumors lands me in a tight spot. (ew, not that tight spot.)

anyway. my goal for tonight is simply:

right now it's 4:31 p.m. and i plan to be in bed at 7:30--8 pm. that way i can watch my thursday night line-up in bed, and hopefully semi-recover. here's hoping. i will blog tomorrow on how i'm feeling/if it worked (because i know you are all awaiting my speedy recovery from sick-hell and i'd gladly oblige in recording my feelings for your well-being...? yes i need to stop now)


(a tip for future reference: going on blogger wastes ample time you could be in bed.)

just. shut. the butt.

taking sonia's lead from her recent post, i've decided to go all serious on y'all.

i was on huffingtonpost.com, my new go-to website... and i saw this link for an article about fergie by katie couric. naturally, i'm intrigued. i click it only to find this picture to be the center of the huff article

(caption including: "Fergie only in a blazer" and that was basically it.)

which got me thinking about women's magazines. the ones that we all read when the opp presents itself. those magazines are so fucking sexist. and i'm not just talking about "women's daily" or whatever the hell that is filled with purely recipes and cleaning tips. i'm talking about vogue, teen vogue, instyle, glamour, etc. it's awful, and yet we all read the articles and look at the ads and completely relish it. "how to be sexy" "9 naughty things even nice guys crave in bed" and the like crowd the publication, like that's the only thing women want to know about it. and you could argue that if women aren't into that, they should go read a different publication. or maybe that some women want a break and that it's a guilty pleasure. and i get that. make up tips can be fun. but why do these magazines insist on being so hypocritical? i mean "women of the year" celebrating hillary clinton?? puh-lease. why don't they just scratch that whole idea and just stick with a "maxim's top 100"-type countdown with the world's hottest women featured? so you know, we youngins' can have people to compare ourselves with...i think they should just go straight there, not try to mess with our minds and talk about women leadership and political change. 

now that i've bitched about this in such a concise setting, whenever i look at one of those magazine colors i'm just gonna see the sexist headlines:

"how to dress like a slut and make the guy like you so he will marry you and you won't have to work and you can just have sex with him and make babies. and then when he cheats here are some reasons why it's not his fault and how you can make yourself even sexier"

"if your man doesn't like the way you look, we have multiple options to make yourself look better. remember: his horniness/happiness is the most important thing."

"300+ sex tips that will make you smarter and happier on so many different levels."

and then the occasional

"michelle obama dresses so well it makes me want to be the first lady"

shut. the butt. up.

all hail...

you know you are a shit babysitter when...

• the 8 year old out-smarts you. twice. 
• the 6 year old shudders and pulls back when you go in for the hug
• you don't eat beforehand, because hey, they have food there. better food. 
• you consistenly finish each child's dinner... you: "well, if you're not gonna eat that then---" child: "wait!" you: "ooooh too late, sorry dude, already ate it."
• the children are entertained by the television, and the television alone. child: "[your name], will you play---" you: "shhhh! i'm trying to read your dad's latest issue of Time"
• the mom "forgets" to pay you
• the mom is still asking you questions about your stay as you walk steadily down their driveway

min mark 1:04, 1:06...enjoy

let's talk.

wasn't there an snl parody of "let's talk" ..? i feel like there was...so much satire i don't know what to do with it all AAAGH! (i'm kidding i wouldn't actually be that upset over satire)

today was a good day. relatively speaking. what i mean to say is, it could've been worse. and i just want everyone out there to know (the haters...i love that like in check it out "haters go fuck yo'self" lol) that i was relatively content today. yes, i hate school. no, i'm not satanic. yes, i like bananas. no, apples don't excite me.

i knew i was relatively (relative because i was at school dammit and there are wayyyy better things i could have been doing instead) happy today because

a. i was smiling way too much and the smiles didn't feel like work.
b. my daydreams did not consist of suicide (jk...or am i?) but of my cabin. it was actually odd, i kept thinking of that lake today...it was...breathtaking. lol jk haha brb cya lmfao idgi stfu

smells like teen spirit

i was not planning on posting this kind of thing today, but fate had a different plan...
a few weeks ago, this idiot stupid person asswipe who is in my psych class was carrying around some published book called the journals of kurt cobain. this pissed me off for many reasons

1. she was reading it during class and saying shit like "he was so genius" and whatnot to her friends.
there are many things wrong with this. the wrongs include but are not limited to the following: she was a total of one year old when her no-doubt fav song "smells like teen spirit" came out. so that's reason number one to shut the fuck up. a large part of the intrigue of that song has to do with being there during the mid-90's and i'm pretty sure you weren't pretending to angst in your diapers, dumbass.
2. yes, Idiot, i know you're not popular and you probably think you can relate to this song. newsflash. you are wrong. you are an idiotic rich "outcast" from We Own Acres Inc and you can shut your stupid piehole. and just by looking at you and your stupid "quirky" cloth shoes that you haven't touched a drug in your life so that dwindles your actual ability to relate to the band, the song, kurt, etc. to maybe about 2%. so once again, shut your stupid piehole.
3. who the hell would publish his private journals? whoever that was, they were corrupt, and if you actually gave a shit about him, and not just the awesome stigma that embodies nirvana and him today, you wouldn't have bought that shit. so. shut. your. stupid. piehole.

wow. i'm glad i've released that. anyway, today molly and i were watching for the umpteenth (?) time, 100 Greatest Songs of the 90s on vh1. we are not hypocrites, and we don't try to pretend like we were moved by the songs featured (like the commentators do) because you know, we were infants for the greater part of the 90s. and just.....no. but then the number one song came on (smells like teen spirit) and the bitch starts making fun of it! i think there was possibly a family guy parody? that seems right. and so yes, i got angry. i stopped my self short of preaching the wonderous awe of that band though...i'm not some idiotic bumbling hypocritical... idiot. ...and then jesse mccartney's song came on the radio and we both tweeked with joy.


in reflection....enjoy
(sorry i think you have to watch a commercial first...cobain would be dead set against that.)