sonia's quote here

your move karma.

After a near battle of the sexes (AKA, the ultra familiar dunn bros versus the swaggarific caribou) Christina and I settled ourselves at a table in the very back of the Swaggahouse. Sure it had privacy (so we could totes make out without drawing too much attention) but the downside was that it was seated directly opposite the men's bathroom. Upon resting my eyes on the stick-figure's lack of skirt, I realized we were in for it.

Sure enough, after the third man used the restroom, I was pretty tired of the routine---afterall, Stina and I had to get ow' mack on! But then something really, really strange happened as the man who was whistling when he went into the restroom, didn't come out. Normally, seeing as they get to stand up to pee, it doesn't take men too long to use the restroom. But for some reason, it took this guy an awful amount of time, and naturally, this gave us the giggles. What was he doing in there for so long... Then even more time passed and it started to become less funny. Thoughts were racin,' wheels were turnin', time was a-wastin'. Finally, we came to the rightful conclusion that the man had died on the toilet, and that it was our civic duty to help him. But how awkward would that be if he actually hadn't died? So we kept putting it off.

10 minutes later we still hadn't assisted the poor guy in what had to be a very lonesome, pathetic death. I know I personally was very close to helping him, when some very large dude waltzed right up to the door and opened it without pause. I peered inside---and sure enough, not a soul was in there.

So it turns out we didn't prolong anybody's descent into death after all. Hmm.

truedat

can we stop talking about her,   period? 

overstatement

run this town is literally the best song ever made.

little bitch

for as long as i can remember every goddamn dog that has ever been in my house has followed my mom every where she goes. oh, jan's going into the laundry room lets follow her, oh jan's chopping vegetables, let's lay down at her feet, oh jan's going to the bathroom, let's follow her in there too (i'm the voice of the dogs?)

it's ridiculous. bitch plays favorites, and in turn the bitches (even the male dogs) follow her around like a saint.

pisses. me. off.

pathetic post [tweets]

I feel like I should be happy about it raining in LA. It should make me feel better about this place. But instead, it makes me feel like I want to be there and feel badly about the rain there.

I also feel like I'm glad I warned y'all this was a pathetic one with the title. Kudos, Meghan.

Also, I suggest you read this if you, I dunno, have a heart/brain/sense of humor.

From the Onion

Responsible, Thoughtful Nation Decides To Ignore Charlie Sheen Situation

MARCH 10, 2011 | ISSUE 47•10

LOS ANGELES—Calling the situation "none of our business" and "not worth a second of our time, quite frankly," a responsible and thoughtful U.S. populace uniformly decided this week to ignore Charlie Sheen's recent outbursts, saying they had far more important things to focus on than a sitcom actor's personal troubles. "When Mr. Sheen's public meltdown began, I immediately recognized how a Hollywood star's crisis could be voyeuristically appealing, which is exactly why I said to myself, 'I am better than that; Charlie Sheen's attention-seeking behavior undermines my intelligence, and the sooner I ignore it, the sooner it will go away,'" said 41-year-old Denver accounts coordinator Margaret Atkins, who along with the rest of the nation has paid no attention to Sheen's situation, and has spent the majority of her time concentrating on the unrest in Libya, the collective-bargaining debate in the Midwest, and the health and well-being of her own family. "Not only have I chosen to ignore Mr. Sheen, but thankfully so has the American media, which has once again shown journalistic decency by only reporting the news that people legitimately need to know." Charlie Sheen was not sought out for comment.

Funny story about The Onion...When I went to see the musical Hair at the Orpheum, there was couple of teenage boys in front of me. They were skinny, and had shiny, long, light-brown hair. They looked very similar, and I thought they were brothers, attending with their hipster mother (with her spiky blonde hair and colorful outfit.) But then they started giving off a gay vibe, I don't remember why exactly, so I became confused as to whether they were brothers or lovers (the muscial was very awkward, so this predicament gave me something else to focus on.) Anyway, before the performance, they were sharing an actual, printed newspaper, and I thought that was odd. But then they turned back to the front page and it turned out to be The Onion and then I thought they were even cooler (sexier, had it not been for the odd gay vibe) than before. The end.

And that ladies and ladies, is how you properly tell a disappointing story. 

people who brake for no damn reason LOL

take the initiative and watch again. or courtney---watch for the first time.

irony

i've spent the greater part of the last 2 years (since i delved into the depths of buddhism) blaming every shitty thing that happens to me on karma. it is always the logical answer when something shitty occurs.  but maybe the little things are less spiritually involved than i choose to immediately believe. so i'm going to try and find relief in the irony instead of blaming myself for offending some sort of karmic happening.

e.g. there's a good chance many of you saw it, because it was up for like 20 minutes before i hastily took it down, but i posted something about how sexist the period scene in "no strings attached" was because i had finally found the words that matched my initial reaction on the subject. so i blabbered on and on about how it vicitimizes women and that they should go take a pill and shut up. then, in what i instantly marked as a sign  from karma, i got my period, full force, and thought i was dying on the ground. when i say full force: it was everything my supercharged hormones had to offer; from the rolling around, to the psychologically fucked up way i declined social gatherings, to the intense whining. obviously, this meant that my post had upset The Karma, because why else would i be experiencing the worst cramps anyone ever in the history of the world has ever had (you people dramatically categorize your menstrual woes, too, right?....)

then i woke up this morning, super fine (like always, as in my appearance) and decided it was a superb case of irony and that it should be laughed about. THE END.

pArt 2

oh and by the way...

I SHIT YOU NOT, THIS IS WHAT RACHEL ZOE WAS WEARING WHEN I FUCKING SAW HER IN BEVERLY HILLS.

Ok, I got this from her website. But here's the story: I was walking down some glamorous-ass street in Beverly Hills (probably a block away from Rodeo Drive) when I saw Rachel and some man (I thought he was Rodger, Molly says he was too young) eating at a cafe. It was amazing!!!! Utter euphoria in spotting a semi-celebrity-from-a-Bravo-reality-show, let me tell you. I just looked at her for a splitsecond and knew, partly because Molly looked back at me with Crazy Eyes.

Hello, my name is Meghan, and I'm addicted to Blogger.

OH MY GAWDD I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY.

First off, if I haven't personally been redundant directly to your face, let me be redundant here: I quit my blog a tiny while ago because I hit rock bottom, so to speak, and posted something about self-mutulation which went way beyond any sort of self-respect boundaries I ever pretended to have. On top of that I was on a roll, shittyblog speaking, and I needed to seek blog rehab. Turns out the first step in such is to temporarily delete your blog. Which by the way, is what is so awesome about Blogger---you can literally "Undelete Your Blog." Fantastic stuff. MOOOOOOOOOOOVING ON.

Well, it's great to be back. I had an excellent time in rehab in California. Just kidding it wasn't excellent. Just kidding it was.

All kiddings aside it sucked because my family annoys me to the point of utter insanity so it was hard to rehabilitate myself among them. When I say "Utter Insanity" I fucking mean it (which btw, Liz, saw your post where you tried to imitate my blogger-style of swearing-shitloads and I thought it was amazing, but the comments didn't work so I gave up.) Insanity means pulling your hair out strand by strand while simultaneously rubbing a temple (not a euphemism) and rocking back in forth, right? It was hell being with my family for so long, but California was awesome. Just like I had seen on the Internet, and how I'd imagined watching The O.C. and how I'd pictured myself there. Honestly, I'm having huge withdrawal symptoms. I was actually crying before I sat down to blog (and consequently pulled my shit together, seeing as it was the first one since post-rehab.) It's a beautiful state, and Daniel Tosh wasn't kidding when he said you had to be rich to live there. That's why it's currently my life goal (and my motivation for determined living) to become rich enough to prosper in that country of its own.

If Japan taught me anything, it's that I cannot take a good picture, especially while on vacation. Turns out, California was exactly the kind of pill-o-plenty that turned my Grossness around--let me tell you, I took some hot pictures. I looked exactly like a Californian, if I do say so myself.
Which brings me to my next point. My family, being fucking idiots that I despise, acted like tourists while there, which pissed me off. First of all, it's California, not the Colloseum. Just nevermind...ehh...pissing me off just thinking about it...UGH. ANYWAY, they looked stupid and annoying and I looked awesome. Pictures to come.


Ok, I realize these are MOST DEFINITELY NOT the "hot pictures" I spoke of, but they're the only ones I can conjure up as of now.

<---Yes, I cut Molly out of this one, but that's only because I HATE HER.



(note to self: throw away whatever godforsaken bra i was wearing in this photo.)

not even close to cute. better ones to come, she promises to herself.

today's "international women's day"

SOOO...that must mean that every day is international men's day, right?! FUCK. another antifeministic plot in the demeaning agenda of society EXPOSED. heh..

why am i so awkward?

i don't understand how so many stupid things can come out of my mouth at such a rapid-fire pace. it would be exhilarating if my insides weren't slowly wilting with death as they came out.

puhpuhparanoid...

PARANOID. LIKE THE SONG BY KANYE AND JONASBROTHERS. except not.

i'm a really paranoid person. for instance, as i'm writing this, my mom and dad are taking turns coming down the basement stairs, carrying various things. in my mind, they are actually trying to spy on me. even though they do not look at me, in this room, near the stairs, they're watching with they're PSYCHO minds. trying to get the dirt on whatever the hell i'm doing. now, there's always a reason to this madness, some past experience that makes you think a certain way. in this example, as i was attempting my video of a theatrical reading of the HAIR playbill, my mom runs downstairs as i'm filming and says "MEGHAN COME UPSTAIRS REALLY QUICK!" and totally sees me making fun of it/talking to myself. at which point i'm like "Really??" because this is why i'm awkward.

esquisitoration

today i experienced a true rarity: i felt some level of contentment as i sat in math class. this was strange,, and i tried to enjoy it while it lasted. the "lesson" was over and we were supposed to be working "solely on the worksheet and not doing homework from another class,etc." naturally, this is where i pull out my iPod, my book, put my math stuff away and put on my FU, SIR face. half the lights were off and people were talking (rather loudly of course!) but i didn't hear them because i was listening to "the lengths" by the black keys as i pondered my exquisite (yeah, i said it) book. i looked at the clock and there was still 20 minutes left but i didn't care---i wanted to enjoy that moment for as long as possible. then of course it became 2:14 and eveyone was getting up and i put my iPod away, and shit got real, real fast. i was reminded of my extreme hunger pains, my headache, my HATRED OF ALL PEOPLE IN MY MATH CLASS, etc, etc. and shit. got. real.

enough of that ...

here are some quotes of the day (i said i would do it and i'm a woman of my word, roxy.):

"put the boob away, acacia, you sick bastard" exclaims i, as the apush teacher strolls on by.
"you only got one life to live, might as well fuck it up" was roxy's take on that age old phrase.
"mr. shlong, why won't you roll up your sleeves, they're getting all wet!" said a rather logical classmate in anatomy as mr.shlong was doing a demonstration with a waterbottle full of "blood." he responded equally logically, "last hour i got it all up my left sleeve and this hour i'm gonna get it on my right...it's fine." as he continued to spill the red-tinted liquid all ova himself. idiot.

problem. fix: rub some target in it.

yo to my homies out in wood-isn't-conserved-here. peace does not come to us, we come to it. live like you're dying. the rainforest is dying. buckle up. caution: slipper when wet. assert your god-given independence. feminisim is the radical notion that women are people too. reuse reduce recycle. these are the ones i know by heart.

today after feeding carey's dogs for the umpteenth time, i was driving down a road that i always drive down on. it's nice. not a lot of distracting lights or scenery or even pretty houses to look at. you can go close to 60 mph and the road is really smooth and generally not heavily trafficked and i like it very much. and then you get to the first stop light and it's like stop-and-go 30 mph back to tamarack and whatnot.

...i'm half-way to the first stop light and i'm going pretty slow (45 mph) because i feel sad and shit (note to self: continue to let feelings determine speed preferences.) i'm about to go up the hill when out of seemingly nowhere skitters (a word!) a little deer thing about 30 feet in front of me. i slowed down to a creep and the deer literally skips across the road. i look in my rearview mirror and there's a dude coming down the hill so i instinctively speed up as i'm so down i don't even feel like having some dude riding my bumper. (?) then before i can see where the pedal has taken me on the spedometer i look behind me (to what unfortunately ended up being the inside of the car) and cry out "OH PO BABY!" ...i have weird babytalk.

so my weird deer outburst got me thinking about my various contradictory traits. as i was driving. because it's rule #2 for safe driving: always drive with at least 2 other things on your mind.

here's a start:
dont eat meat v. eat fish
make fun of the country v. dislike what the city does to the country(side)
hate the suburbs v. have weird, unwarranted pride for hoodbury despite attending stillwhiter (a twofur)
decidely liberal (big fedgov't) v. have certain antiestablishment sentiments

...poor deer. no one's ever going to have enough true, unyielding passion to save your habitat.