The Declaration of MY Independence

Brand Spankin' New

2007-11-09T11:45:00.000-05:00

I just got engaged. I have a new blog. It will probably be taking over from this blog being that I will be in matrimonial hell for the next year. So why not write about it? I promise it will be inappropriate and at times, mildly hysterical.

http://uhohbridezilla.blogspot.com/

Enjoy!

There's About To Be a.....Dog Fight!

2007-06-14T13:09:00.000-04:00

Need I reiterate my fear of dogs again? Yesterday was no good.

My poor CaydenPants got his face chewed on yesterday by our neighbors dog. My neighbors have a wooden fence, and when I took Cayden out to pee yesterday, he decided to try to make friends with the dog next door (a German Shepherd Lab mix) by sticking his head through the fence. Bad idea.

The neighbor's dog grabbed Cayden by the head and shook him through the fence for about 5 seconds before I was even able to do something about. Miraculously, as soon as I screamed at the other dog he let go, and Cayden proceeded to run around my backyard shrieking in pain, which seriously broke my heart. The only commical part of this was me trying to catch him. Imagine to yourself a plus sized girl in high heels trying to catch her pint sized dog who is running and screaming around the yard. As soon as I caught him one of my neighbors came barreling out of the house.

He felt so bad about Cayden, that I actually started feeling bad for him. He put some doggy neosporin on my creature and offered to pay any vet bills if I had to take him. I thanked him and told him that I wasn't upset, and that it wasn't like HE bit my dog, because then we would be having some problems. His dog clearly didn't appreciate Cayden trying to come onto his territory.

Luckily, besides him being totally wigged the fuck out, Cayden is OK. He has a scratch by his nose and under his chin, but besides that he's fine. I think I'm going to ask them if they would mind putting some chicken wire up along side the fence to solve the problem.

I'm just glad all of this happened BEFORE my therapy session!

Lunch Update

2007-06-13T14:58:00.000-04:00

Ummm can you tell I'm bossless? Four posts in one day? My oh my, aren't you just the lucky reader? OK, well anyways....

Today at lunch I saw a geeky version of Sidney Crosby, which to me equalled hot and hotter. As soon as a saw him I made the sexiest pose I could (without totally giving it away of course) and proceeded to sip my Diet Mountain Dew in an ever so provocative way. At this point, Geeky Crosby was staring at me, but it wasn't because of my super sexy pose or my sucking skills.

It was because I had just spilled my drink down the front of my shirt.

My Poor Neighbors

2007-06-13T12:34:00.001-04:00

I don't even want to know what my neighbors thought when they saw me roll up to my house in a strange man's car, wearing the same clothes as the night before, and carrying a computer.

A geeky whore, perhaps?

Deep Breaths....

2007-06-13T12:13:00.000-04:00

I have officially become a Crazy. Not the kind of Crazy that you see with messed up hair, screaming obscenities at passer-bys, the secret kind of Crazy-which I'm convinced is the worst kind.

You see, Boyfriend and I have been talking alot about settling down with each other. His lease is up in November, and since neither one of us wants to move in with the other before that ever so important engagement ring is placed on my finger, we have decided to get engaged before November. And here is where I hit Crazy.

Most girls are afraid of the commitment, but not this Crazy. I am afraid of the ring. I am afraid that he will go out and buy the most hideous ring he can find, and ask me to marry him with it. If I see such a hideous ring, I may have to decline his invitation. Yes, it is THAT important to me. Are you guys seeing Crazy yet?

So the other day, I took it upon myself to be escorted by my boss to a super swanky private jeweler downtown. I worked with the owner of the store for about an hour before he had the perfect blueprint of my engagement ring ready (since they design everything there). I was delighted, and I could barely contain myself from jumping up and down and squealing when he showed me the finished product, because it was perfect.

Then he started to fit me for the ring, so it could be the perfect size as well.

All of a sudden, I was flushed with emotions. This was really happening. It was not a childhood fantasy anymore. I was going to get married and share the rest of my life with someone else. And I must admit, this feeling was pretty overwhelming.

Its not because I think I'm marrying the wrong person. Anyone who knows Boyfriend and I knows that this is definetly not the case. Its the fact that my whole world is about to change. I will no longer be known as the party girl that is a bad influence on all of her friends, I will be known as Alex's wife. My weekends will be filled with housework and yardwork, and will no longer include getting sloshed and not coming home until noon the next day. I will start to think about having a family. I will start having a family, and then that baby will become my life. Every decision I make from here on out is no longer about me.

And as the jeweler announced that I was a size 7 and 3/4 narrow, I put the Crazy aside and decided that this was what I have been waiting for my whole life.

Boyfriend is Going to Get It!

2007-06-13T12:07:00.000-04:00

Right now, as I am typing this, I have a large grease stain on my left breasticle. Why, you ask? Because right after Boyfriend decided to make his lunch this morning, he decided that he had to violate me before washing his hands. Now, some of his lunch is on display for my whole office to see, and I'm sick of people telling me that there is something on my shirt.

I'm just glad they don't see that it resembles a hand.

Bus Stories

2007-06-13T11:58:00.000-04:00

I can't believe I didn't think of writing this before! As most of you know, I am an avid people watcher, and when I'm on the bus, I'm an avid people listener. And now, it is time for me to post some conversations I have been hearing lately.

Girl #1: Can you believe that no one would give up their seat for that mom holding her baby?

Girl #2: Ya, thats just fucking RUDE!

Girl #1: I told that fat lady who was talking up 2 seats up front, that she should have gotten up because she was taking up two whole damn seats.

Girl #2: What did she say?

Girl #1: She asked me if I was talking to her, and I said hell ya I'm talking to you! A bus pass just covers a person, NOT their ass.
____________________________________________________________________

Butt Grabber: I once grabbed some fat guys butt on here and he turned around and said "Wowza!" Who the FUCK says "wowza" anymore?
____________________________________________________________________

Back of the Bus Girl: Goodbye ma'am, have a nice day.

Friend: Why are you saying that to everyone?

Back of the Bus Girl: I'm just saying it to be polite. One time I said it to some lady and she turned around and said, "shut the fuck up!". Then I told her to eat shit.

Congratulations Biatch!

2007-06-07T10:43:00.000-04:00

I believe a congratulations is in order for my very good friend Lexie. You see, last month Lexie's boyfriend Chad proposed to her down in Mexico and they have set their wedding date for this coming April. Even though I have known her for a very short time, and we met each other in a non-traditional sort of way (through a website designed for "curious" females-kiddng, seriously KIDDING!), she has become nothing short of a supercalafragalisticexpealadocious friend to me.

Did I mention she's getting married in Cancun and I'M invited!? You have no idea how frickin awesome this girl is. Not only do I NOT have to BE in her wedding, but I get to go to Mexico for it! In fact, she has even put me on clean up crew so I feel like I have something to do, and so that I may feel special. I REALLY hope I get to clean up some puke. When I see her in October, I think I just might love her and squeeze her and call her George.

So Congratufuckulations Lexie and Chad! I hope you have very happy lives together and make beautiful babies! Also Lexie, I'm glad that are becoming a "Mc". Now we will BOTH have excuses when we get drunk and throw up all over ourselves.

Would you consider putting this on your Knot website? Hehe.

A Walk Down Memory Lane

2007-05-31T16:23:00.000-04:00

Due to the fact that I am about the most BORING person in the world lately, I am going to tell you guys a story of when I studied abroad in Ireland. You bitches are in for a real treat.

Contrary to popular belief, I used to be a wild child. Back in my late years of high school and early years of college, I was absolutely batshit crazy. Take for example yesterday, when I was informed that I had thieved a car not once, but twice in my life. Yes, apparently the second time just slipped my mind. Before you guys think that I'm a fugitive, let me just inform you that the cars belong to people that I knew. So I didn't really steal them, I just borrowed them......ummmm, without telling anyone. Ya, thats what happened.....

OK so back to Ireland. Hurricane Meghan invaded the Emerald Isle in March of 2004, her senior year of college. I was beyond pumped for this trip. It was the only thing on my mind ever since I conned money out of my mom and dad in early November. Needless to say, I knew I was in for one helluva spring break.

The only person I knew on this trip was one of my sorority sisters. Everyone else was a complete stranger to me, but I made friends quickly courtesy of the first wild and crazy night we had there. And this is where our story begins.

You see, for the first two nights we spent in Ireland we stayed in a monestary. But it was a mega cool monestary. So cool that I smoked a couple cigarettes with a nun one day. They were pretty tolerant of alot of things there, but not everything as I was soon to find out.

After we got settled in to our respective rooms, got showers, and introduced ourselves, our entire group (about 28 of us) walked across the street to this local bar in the small town of Maynouth, which is about an hour outside of Dublin. From this point on, all 28 of got completely, utterly, shamefully hammered except for this one girl who wouldn't drink because she basically just sucked. At one point, the group of us turned this tiny bar into a dance club, which the bartender was not too happy about. Apparently he was yelling at us to stop and telling us that "we don't do those kinds of things here", but all of us were too drunk to hear or care. So drunk in fact, that I remember us all dancing like chickens while singing "God Bless America" with some of the locals. They dug our chicken dancing.

As the night went on, our number dwindled down until there was only about 5 of us left and the bar owner had to all but throw us "Fresh Prince Style" out of his bar. The 5 of us stumbled out of the bar, still singing and slurring when we saw it. The monestary had put up the gate, the gate that was about 10 feet high with large spikes on it. We had no way to get back in, we even checked the outside perimeter. Shit.

"Well I guess we'll just have to sleep outside then", one girl said.

"No fucking way", I called out before she could even finish her sentence.

I then began to plot my scheme.

So you know that kid? You know, that kid thats in just about every group of friends that will do whatever you tell him or her to do when they're drunk? Well, I figured that we had to have one of those in our group, and boy was I right. Let me tell you, I can stiff these people out like Reese Pieces. His name was K., and I first learned that he was our person when I caught him running up and down the curbs on the side of the road while barely keeping his balance.

"Hey K.!" I called, "I have a mission for you, if you choose to accept it."

"Oh a mission! What is it?!", said K eagerly.

"Here's the story. We're locked out of the monestary. We need to get back in. What I need you to do is to climb over that fence, unlock it, and let us back in. You'll totally be saving the day and one of us might kiss you."

"Well I would, but there's spikes on the fence, isn't that kind of dangerous?"

"Its a mission its supposed to be dangerous, now go set us free!"

Right on cue, K. began climbing the fence. And let me tell you, it was one of the funniest sights I have ever seen in my life. The spikes that were on the fence kept going through K.'s shoes, which caused him to climb even faster so they wouldn't poke his foot. When he got to the top, he turned to us, put his hands up over his head and yelled "I'm climbing over the fence to get to the free world!", which made absolutely no fucking sense, but it was one of the most hysterical things I have ever head someone say. Maybe it was because I was drunk beyond belief.

And this is when the Guarda (aka the Irish Police) came.

All of a sudden we were surrounded. Caught totally off guard, me and one of the other boys dove into a bush, which didn't go over too well with the Guarda. All I could think about was that I was going to go to a foreign jail and never be let out, and they would beat me and torture me and rub my face in the dirt.

What followed next was like a scene out of a movie. There were about 3 or 4 of them all shining flashlights in our faces and screaming at us. Apparently someone from the monestary thought we were breaking in and called the cops. After I was ordered to come out of the bush, I politely explained to them our situation, and after about 15 minutes of further questioning, they called the monestary and had them open the gates for us.

And this ladies and gentlemen, was only my first night there.

Ten Things I Hate About Me

2007-05-04T15:08:00.000-04:00

Well OK, not really, but I was tagged by this blogger to write a meme about myself.

*side note: isn't "meme" a fun word to say? I could say it all day meme, meme, meme, meme. Getting tired of me yet? Thats what I thought*

OK, so if your not completely tired of this blog being all about me, then read on about 10 interesting things about myself. There's alot of dirt here people. You won't be disappointed!

1. I think I've mentioned here before that I am scared to death of large dogs. So scared, that it took me a looonngg time to get used to Boyfriend's dog (he has a boxer...blech!) even being in the same room with me without starting to panic. When we first started dating, I wouldn't even let the dog around me, and to this day I still don't let it anywhere near my face. Why you ask? When I was 10 years old I was mauled by a dog, an Akita to be exact. I knew the dog, knew the neighbors and when my friend and I went walking around our neighborhood one day, i bent down to pet Fido and he jumped up and bit my face. He barely missed my jugular vain and almost tore my ear off. I have 3 scars on the right side of my face from him. I've been through plastic surgeries and am planning on getting laser surgery in the near future. The scar bothers me to no end. I pile makeup on top of makeup on it.

2. Between the ages of 4-9 I was banned from eating Skittles. Apparently, when I was just knee high to a grasshopper, Dad gave me a king sized bag of Skittles. He didn't ration it, just gave me the whole freakin' bag and I ate THE WHOLE THING in about an hour. I then spent the rest of the day "puking the rainbow". Needless to say Mom was pissed and I was never allowed to eat Skittles again. I'm sure Dad got a pretty good tongue lashing too. Poor Dad.

3. I am a descendant from an Irish "mob" called the Molly Maguires. I studied abroad in Ireland for awhile, and thats where I learned about them. When I went to see if I had any relatives that were involved with them (because their society was formed around my area) , sure enough there was a Peter M. that was hung in the gallows because of his affiliation with The Mollies. So maybe you'll think twice about messing me with me now, right? Don't make me whack you.

4. I barely ever finish anything I start. This is so, so sad that I think I just might cry myself a river over here. I will begin something and have this huge wave of creativity and ambition, only for it to quickly sizzle out....in about an hour. You should see my blog dashboard....alot of drafted posts that I never finish. Usually I think this is because NOTHING IS EVER EASY FOR ME. Something that would take an average person 15 minutes to do, would take my sorry ass about 2 hours to complete because I would screw it up and have to start from scratch. I also think my pea sized attention span is the other culprit. You have to understand people, that my brain is usually just full of crazy, random thoughts. So when I'm trying to focus on one thing, I have about 20 other things on my mind. Think I'm a nut case yet? Good. Lets move on....

5. Believe it or not, I'm lactose intolerant, and right now all of the people that know me in real life are all laughing as they read this. Why is this so funny to them? Well, besides the fact that they're rude bitches, I probably eat more dairy than anyone else on this planet, and possibly in other far away galaxies. I'm addicted to cheese and ice cream. So addicted, that I still eat it in mass quantities that make me unbelievably sick. I throw up about once or twice a week because I go waaaaay over my dairy limit. Its totally unhealthy, but I just can't stop my psycho self from eating it.

6. When I was in college, I played Rugby for a semester. Yes, me, a totally girly girl thought it was a good idea for her to play a sport that had more physical contact and less protective gear than football. Since I was one of the bigger girls, I got put in a position called a prop, which is the front line of a scrum. It was such a bad idea. I got a concussion my third practice and my whole body was one big black and blue mark, but I did get to beat alot of bitches up. I quit the next semester and joined a sorority that was more my style.

7. I am a total Attention Whore. I love for all eyes to be on me, all the time. I'm usually the first person to dance on the "Booty Bar" at my favorite dance club, or to sing a crazy karaoke song. These antics landed me to be part of a Carnival Legends Show on my spring break cruise a couple years ago. I was dressed up like Madonna, had back up dancers, sang Like A Virgin, and rolled around on the stage just like Madge did in her video. Did I mention this was in an auditorium FILLED with people? Yep, I loved every single second of it and wasn't embarrassed in the slightest.

8. One of my biggest dreams in life is to pose for Playboy. I would love it. But as much as I would love to pose for Playboy, I know that I would have to drop some poundage and get into shape. I doubt Hugh Hef would want to have some blob in his centerfold. And yes, my parents would TOTALLY mind if I did something like this, but I wouldn't tell them. It would be my Top Secret Playboy Scandal. And why would they be reading that dirty magazine anyways? I doubt Mom and Dad would want to get called out for that.

9. Not that you would ever think this NOW, but when I was in high school I had a mild (can you even call it mild?) eating disorder. My high school put crazy amounts of pressure on me to be thin, and I caved. I remember the last straw was when some asshole drew a picture of me that depicted me as a balloon. The next day I stopped eating. I would have 2 crackers for lunch (which I would scrape the filling off) and a piece of lunch meat for dinner. The only time I would ever eat something of substance was when I had a soccer game, and that would only be half a can of fat free raviolis. I convinced myself that nothing was wrong with me, and that I just lost interest in food. I was loosing about 10-13 lbs a week, and would weigh myself about 7 times a day to make sure that I weighed less then the previous time I had stepped on the scale. I didn't get professional help, it was something I had to work through on my own, which I did and it has made me SUCH a strong person. I hope that when I have daughters that they don't think they have to change for everyone else, and that they can learn to be comfortable in their own skin. I never would want anyone to go through what I did.

10. On a lighter note, when I was younger you could get me to do anything just by saying "your afraid, aren't you?" To this I would reply "I'M NOT AFRAID" and would proceed to do some obnoxious stunt where the result tended to be anything but favorable. Some of these stunts include driving around in a "stolen vechile" (it was one of our friends so we technically didn't steal it per say), tearing up our practice field with my Jeep Wrangler, and driving on a lake that was frozen over. Today, you may still get me to do something outrageous by saying that to me, but I tend to be more discretionary with it.

So now I'm supposed to tag other people, but everyone I know has been tagged already! So lets do this, shall we? Leave me a comment or 10 with a random fact about yourself. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some things I need to finish up. Maybe if your lucky I'll post about me weekend that contains information about keg softball, a shot ski, and some moonshine.

Bitch Slapped By VB!

2007-05-02T10:18:00.000-04:00

So Virginia Belle, my most favoritist (I don't care if thats not a word, its my blog and I'll speak as I wish!) blogger in the whole entire blog world, has decided to interview me, and she wasn't even scared one bit! Ha! So if you want to learn a little bit more about me, read on. If not, too fucking bad-read it anyways!

Ready? Here goes:

1. Name 3 things we actually DON'T have in common. (Middle initials and cooking don't count, because i already know those two.)

Oh Lordy, this is going to be a tough one. My buddy VB and I pretty much lead parallel lives with each other, but I will answer this question to the best of my ability.

a.) We have different opinions on animals.

VB hates cats, and I absolutely ADORE them! If I could take every cat in the world and love them and squish them and call them George, I totally would do it. I definitely have the ambition to become a crazy cat lady, but Boyfriend won't let me. He makes sure I steer clear of cat adoptions at Petco, and never lets me within 30 feet of a petstore. Pretty smart guy that Boyfriend is. Did you ever see that Oprah show where this family had like 80 cats? Ya, that could be me. *shudders*

I also know for a fact that VB hates to dress up her dogs, and I must admit that this is something that my crazy ass loves to do. Sometimes I even think that Cayden has nicer clothes than I do. Seriously! This pup has a suede coat with fur trimming for winter that he looks like a total pimp in....so much of a pimp that he goes from plain ole Cayden to Pimp Daddy C in the matter of a zip and a velcro snap! Oh ya, Pimp Daddy C gets all the bitches in the neighborhood!

b.) VB loves her some Jelly Bellys. I on the other hand, see some Jelly Bellys and instantly want to projectile vomit. Now I can eat regular jelly beans, but just not Jelly Bellys. Why you ask? Well once upon a time when Meghan was all but 8 years old she spent New Years Eve with her Ma (my grandmother) and her best friend Patrick. Ma, against her better judgement and reasoning gave Meghan and Patrick a HUGE FUCKING box of Jelly Bellys. After eating almost half the box, and while being on major sugar highs, Meghan and Patrick decided to experiment with said Jelly Bellys. They would mix "strawberry" and "butter flavored popcorn" among all other gross combinations in their mouth and eat them. The grosser, the better. Low and behold the next morning both Meghan and Patrick woke up with horrible stomach aches and continued to puke all day. And that my friends, was the end of Jelly Bellys for Ms. Meghan.

c.) Wow, this one is hard. I may have to cop out for right now and say that VB is more edumicated than I am. See she has her masters degree in library science, and I only have a crappy old bachelors in political science. Good lord, even our degrees have the same name in it! If we didn't look so damn different, i would swear that we were long lost sisters or some crazy shit like that!

2. Does it really suck to be in someone's wedding? i have never had the opportunity. what is it like?

HA! Double ha! Well, when it comes to this question I'm a little biased. I have become tainted by the whole bridesmaid experience. The first wedding I was supposed to be in was alot of fun leading up to it. The bride was most definitely NOT bridezilla, and all of the other girls in the wedding party were super duper amounts of fun. However, the wedding was called off 2 weeks before the actual wedding date. I was stuck with a dress, but wasn't the least bit angry. I wanted HER to be happy, and if it meant calling off a wedding then so be it. All I can say is thank god I kept the tags on that dress BECAUSE.....

The next wedding I was in was a complete disaster. The only thing good that came out of it was me being able to take the dress I had from the previous wedding, and exchanging it for a dress for this wedding (since they were both from the same shop). When the girl asked me to be in her wedding, I was barely even friends with her anymore. I told her that I would love to be in her wedding, but if it was going to be a large financial commitment I wouldn't be able to since I was planning on going to law school that fall. She assured me that it would not be, and that my friends, was the biggest lie I have ever been told.

Her Maid of Honor was a complete cow, so much of a cow that we renamed her the Maid of Horror. MOH was the only one with a "real" job. The rest of us were stuck in our crappy, part time jobs working at Panera Bread or Hooters (hehe), thus leaving us alot more strapped for cash than she was. However, MOH did not care. After consulting with Bridezilla, MOH decided that we would be having the bridal shower at an expensive restaurant and each of us would have to chip in 100 smackers! Wait, did I mention there were 8 of us?!!? Did I also mention that the Mother and Grandmother of Bridezilla only put in as much money as us people working at Hooters and Panera did? Ya, wasn't that nice and shitty? Oh ya, and the fact that only 30 people were there. Yes people, IT WAS THAT MUCH MONEY! Who does that? Why couldn't you have it at a church or a firehall like everyone else?! Not even counting the fact that NONE OF US HAD ANY FUCKING MONEY!

The bachelorette party was another disaster in the making. Bridezilla put Former Roommate (FR for short now) and I in charge of planning it. Little did we know that MOH was not having that. MOH would NEVER pick anywhere cheap and fun like FR and I did! Noooooo MOH wanted to go to mother fucking Sing Sing which besides the Omni William Penn and the Hilton is one of the most expensive places to go out. This is where I lost it. Apparently FR had called up the MOH to tell her that her selection didn't fit our budgets, but she wasn't having it. MOH wanted it there and she said Bridezilla did too. FR was crying, and I HATE when my friends cry, especially when it is because someone is just bullying them around. So I took it upon myself to call up everyone of the bridesmaids AND Bridezilla to ask them what they would like to do. As I had suspected, they all thought Sing Sing was too expensive, and Bridezilla was fine with the alternative plans I had offered. I then called the MOH and told her of the changed plans and she wigged out. She told me that that was what BRIDEZILLA wanted to do (which was a total lie) and that we were all being selfish because we weren't complying with Bridezilla's wishes. And this is where I went apeshit on her and told her that that she was in fact the selfish bitch who wasn't thinking of anyone else's feelings. Then I asked her if she would like the rest of us to pull the money for this out of our own asses or hers. Soon after I hung up with MOH Bridezilla called and proceeded to yell at ME! Even though when I called Bridezilla to ask her about the alternative plans she was fine with it, and said she didn't even want to GO to Sing Sing. Is everyone seeing the drama here yet???? Good Lord!

So this VB, is what its like to be in a wedding. But I must say that I'm going to be in a wedding this Fall, and I'm actually having fun with it. The girls in the wedding party are all pretty cool and the bride is so easy going I just want to squeeze her and give her a million thanks. So we'll see, maybe this one will break the bad bridesmaid mold. Lets hope so!

3. What is your worst cooking disaster EVER?

Well, I've never really had that big of a disaster per say, just some minor mishaps that always end up happening (may I remind you that Former Roommate was the one who lit the oven on fire this year? Oh yes, thats right). Most of the time these things happen because I get distracting so damn easily. I'll be reading a recipe and all of a sudden see something shiny, and then its just all over. Sometimes I think I may be a little slow. But here are the most recent mishaps:

a.) Forgetting to put spinach in a spinach dip. Ya, I left it in the microwave to defrost, made the rest of it and put it in the oven. Dur!

b.) One time I attempted to make stuffed shells. I mis-read the ingredients (oh! something shiny!) and put in a tablespoon of oregano instead of a teaspoon. Yum! Oh ya, and I forgot to chop the oregano up too.

c.) I made some meatloaf that literally made Boyfriend sick to his stomach. I mean actually in the throwing up kind of way. Now he won't eat meatloaf again. I scarred him for life. Oops.

4. What is your most embarrassing moment?

Now this one is pretty hard being that I don't embarrass easily. I am THE clumsiest person in the whole world, so I think I've just become accustomed to people pointing and laughing at me, but I think this one tops the charts.

Up here in Da Burgh, we have restaurants called Quaker Steak and Lube. I'm not sure if any of you have ever heard of them, but its a wing place that is made up to look like a car garage (read: there are windows EVERYWHERE). So I am there with Former Roommate, Gramma, and Mom when I realize that I'm cold and want to go out to the car to get my sweater. So I exit the restaurant and head for the car which is parked right in the front row facing the restaurant's ginormous windows. A monster truck is pulling in right besides the car and since I am the most impatient person in the whole world, I run to the car grab my coat out, and jump over the curb. Problem was was that I didn't jump. I fell. Right over the curb. And did a face plant on the pavement. And oh, remember the monster truck that was pulling in besides me? I fell right in front of him. He had to slam on his breaks so that he wouldn't hit me. Worst part of this? THE WHOLE FREAKIN RESTAURANT SAW ME! When I walked back into the restaurant you could tell that everyone was stifling their laughter, them Mom started clapping and yelled "so how does pavement taste?!" Oh ya, and I had scrapes on my face, arms, and legs, so believe me, I definitely looked the part of an incompetent human being.

5. I was going to ask you how you and your boyf met, but i think you told me once....so instead i will ask: "if you could have any superpower you want, what would you pick and why?"

Well it definitely WOULD NOT be the power to read peoples minds. I really don't want to know what people thing of me, being that I'm a complete neurotic basket case most of the time. What I would REALLY want to do would have the ability to teletransport like they do on Star Trek. Beam me up Scotty! I could sleep in an hour more each day and I would NEVER be late for anything! Woo Hoo!!!! Also, think of the money that I could save on gas and airfare. I'd be rich, bitch!

OK enough about me, what about you? If you want me to interview you (I cannot be held accountable for any inappropriate questions asked) leave me a comment and let me know.

Have a great weekend everyone!

Krazy Kaufmanns Lady Strikes Again!

2007-04-24T09:31:00.000-04:00

Once again, as I was leaving work yesterday, KKL was in another fit of rage. Yesterday she had a few choice words for me, and uh, my Louis Vuitton....

KKL: FUCK YOU AND YOUR BAG!

Me: *snickers*

Things That Bother Me....

2007-04-24T09:29:00.000-04:00

When you get a new pair of jeans and practically have to zip them up with a pair of pliers because they're so tight, only to find out that after only a day of wearing them, they have stretched out so much that you have to hold them up.

Fuck those jeans.

Fun Quotes from the Weekend

2007-04-24T09:23:00.000-04:00

Scene #1: Riding in the car with friends on the way to a bar

Erin: Jesus Christ A! Why do you always have to get drunk? Can't you just enjoy alchool?

*Laughter erupts throughout the car*

Scene #2: At the mall with OCR when I see that my favorite fat girl store is closing

OCR: Oh no Meg, your store is closing down, what are you going to do?

Me: Well, it looks like I'm going to have to loose weight....FUCK!

Scene #3: Cayden pees, once again when I'm taking him out of his crate

Boyfriend: Uh oh Cayden, UR-INE trouble!!

Virginia Tech

2007-04-18T09:25:00.000-04:00

Screw what they say about high school, college was the best years of my life. I learned about true friendships, how to work hard and party harder, and most importantly - this is where I gained my independence. Not even for a moment did I fear for my or my fellow student's safety in the comfort of our Alma Mater's classrooms. This (among many other reasons) is why I am so deeply disturbed over what happened in Virginia this past Monday.

I keep putting myself in these students' positions. I can't even imagine just sitting in my class that I drug myself out of bed way early in the morning for, half asleep, only to be jolted to life by some insecure crazed maniac firing bullets into mine and others classrooms. Totally taken off guard, scared, not knowing whether to cry or scream.

What would I have done? Would I have stood there, paralyzed, unable to move, or would I have tried to fight for my life? Would I have ever gone back to school? What would I have done if one of my friends got shot? Questions that still remain unanswered to me, and hopefully I will never be put in a situation where they will need to be answered.

So many things deeply anger and sadden me about this situation.

Not to get up on my soap box (but it seems I am about to, so beware), but something needs to be done about gun control in this country.* Don't get me wrong, I believe in our right to bear arms, but I also believe that our country is doing a piss poor job regulating it. I cannot understand how a mentally disturbed man, on depression medication, can purchase a gun (granted he was the one who actually purchased it, if not, I stand corrected). Does this seem right to you? Roommate says that they cannot discriminate against people with mental illnesses, it is not something that is supposed to be disclosed. Ummm, what? So it would be OK to give Stevey Schizo a gun? Does this even make sense?! It seems that something has got to give here people.

However, the thing that angers me the most is the shooter, being the poor excuse for a human being that he was, shot himself after everything he had done. He was not even man enough to own up to the sorrow and heartache he caused friends, family, and a community altogether.

Fucking coward.

My heart, thoughts, and prayers go out to all who were involved in this great tragedy. If anyone would like to donate to the Hokie Spirit Memorial Fund, you can do so by clicking here.

*I'm not saying only this caused the problem, obviously there were alot of other things, so please do not write me angry comments. K? Thnx.

Lurkers

2007-04-04T13:50:00.000-04:00

Come out, come out wherever you are!

Hello! Thanks for stopping by! Leave a comment, say hello, tell me how poor my grammar is, let me know if you really like or seriously hate my blog.

Wait.

Please don't tell me if you hate my blog. It would crush me, it really would.

But anyways, let me know what you think. I don't bite - - unless you have some Reese Pieces in your hand. I love that shit.

Things You Will Never Hear Me Say.....

2007-04-04T13:23:00.000-04:00

Ew I HATE the taste of beer!

I would love to own a large dog, but only if it has sharp teeth.

Please give me some rum. I need to calm down.

I only date short men.

I can't eat cheese! I'm lactose intolerant, ya know.

Justin Timberlake is ugly.

Can I PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE be in your wedding?!?!?!

Having a child right now would really bring some meaning into my life.

I hope Dave Matthews is coming to Pittsburgh again this summer.

I'm thinking of getting back with my ex-boyfriend. He was so nice to me.

Do not buy me anything else from Tiffanys. I don't deserve it.

Let's move down to Texas.

No thanks, I don't feel like drinking tonight.

Even THINKING about eating raw cookie dough makes me sick. You can get salmonella from that!

Sure, I'll go on a roadtrip with you, but only if we listen to country the whole way.

AND FINALLY.....

Let me do the cooking tonight.

Nightcap

2007-04-03T09:42:00.000-04:00

Last Saturday, after a couple hours of drinking for free at a bar, Boyfriend brought me and OCR back to the house. Needless to say, I was quite a bit intoxicated. This is the point where I decided to entertain my whole street with my interpretation of the song "New York, New York."

I set up my own personal stage in my front yard. At this point, Boyfriend quickly made his exit to inside the house, and OCR watched from her balcony seats, aka my front porch.

My after hours show did not disappoint. I started my own dance line, minus the uh, other 15 people that should have been in it with me. I kicked my legs and belted out the song at the top of my lungs, while OCR egged me on and the neighbors cringed in horror.

Then came the finale.

As I sang, OK screamed, "Its up to you, New York, Neeewwww Yoooorrrrk!", my legs swept out right from under me, my arms flew up in the air, and i landed ass first onto my front lawn.

But I never missed a note. I did not want to disappoint my fans, OK fan.

I laid in my front yard, curled up in the fetal position, laughing so hard I could barely breathe, until OCR came down off the "balcony" to help me up.

We kept laughing for 15 minutes after that.

Finally we went into the house and I yelled to Boyfriend at a decibel that only dogs could hear, "DID YOU SEE ME? I WAS SINGING THAT SONG TO YOU, AND THEN I FELL!" To that Boyfriend answered, "I'm shocked." And then he took me up to bed to prevent me from another accident where I could crack my head open or obtain a compound fracture of some sort.

Adventures With Mom

2007-04-03T09:20:00.000-04:00

Even though I have moved out of my house almost 2 years ago, my bank statement still comes to my parent's address. Why you ask? Oh, thats because my lovely mother still hasn't taken her name off my account, which she was told, is something we both have to be present for at the bank. Now I have been trying to meet up with her to do this for almost as long as I have been out of there house, but for some reason this is a very difficult task.

It seems simple enough. Both of us work downtown, our bank is SMACK DAB IN THE MIDDLE of both of our offices, but oh no, not when Mom is involved. Nothing is ever easy with her.

Here is the latest rendition of Sunday Dinner at my parent's:

Mom: Do you have a credit union at work?

Me: I don't even know what that is.

Mom: Its to help you save money. I've been looking at your savings account and.....

Me: MOM! Stop looking at my bank account!

Mom: Well, stop it from coming here!

Me: I've been trying to! You never want to meet me!

Mom: Well lets meet this week.

Me: OK, Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday works best for me.

Mom: How about Thursday?

Me: *Sigh* Thats fine.

Mom: No, not Thursday. In fact, I don't even want to meet during the week, I like to go to the gym on my lunch break. Come over Friday, but you have to be here before 2, because I'm going to church.

*This is the point in the conversation where I totally loose it*

Me: WHY IS THIS SO FREAKING HARD!? WE WORK IN THE SAME AREA, AND LIVE 20 MINUTES AWAY FROM EACH OTHER! THIS WILL ONLY TAKE 10 MINUTES, CAN WE PLEASE JUST GET THIS OUT OF THE WAY ALREADY?!?!

Mom: Well Jesus Christ Meghan, just come over here Friday after 3. Stop making it such a big deal.

Reason #2 To Call It a Night

2007-04-03T09:18:00.000-04:00

When your in a crowded bar and one of your old friends from high school comes in and says, "I would hug you, but I'm covered in blood, let me go wash this off."

Being Irish Has Its Perks

2007-03-08T12:44:00.000-05:00

I remember one of the first dates Boyfriend and I went on was to a skeezy bar in Homestead where people who worked in The Waterfront regularly herded to. I also remember drinking about 5 Rolling Rocks and being perfectly fine to drive home. Our conversation went a little like this:

"Holy shit, I can't believe I drank that much and I don't feel a thing! You don't think I'm an alchoolic do you?"

"No, I just think your Irish."

"FINALLY! Someone who understands!"

After hearing Boyfriend's proclamation of his complete and utter understanding of Irish stereotypes, I knew that I could indeed marry this fellow (OK not really, but I at least knew I was going to give him a couple more dates). However, as excited as I was that he could fully embrace my nationality, I cannot embrace his.

Enter his birthday.

For the whole month of March and half the month of April he will constantly tell me how he wants a set of bagpipes for his birthday. Each year he asks multiple, multiple times, and each year I tell him no. What he fails to realize is is that if he in fact GETS the bagpipes from someone (who I will plot to kill later), I am the one who will have to LISTEN to them. I don't know about you, but sitting around and listening to my tone deaf boyfriend playing some sour notes on a bagpipe isn't my idea of fun. I have better things to do like, watch paint dry.

Here's another kicker. He wants them so he can go out on St. Patrick's Day, in public, and play them while wearing a kilt. Because ummm that doesn't sound embarrassing at all, not to mention its NOT A SCOTISH HOLIDAY! He thinks he will get alot of free drinks, I think he will get a lot of free beat downs.

So above anything else, this is a public service message to anyone who may be thinking of buying Boyfriend this gift for his birthday.

I will hunt you down.

However, I will not kill you. I feel that it would be a far worse punishment if you would have to listen to him play the bagpipes for 12 hours straight. If I'm feeling extra specially evil that day, I may even have him sing to you. At this point, I know I would be for death, but death will not be an option for you.

I hope we have come to an understanding.

La-Day-La My Best Friend's Back!

2007-03-05T16:00:00.000-05:00

I just wanted to write to let my Bestest (OCR) know how happy I am that she moved back to Pittsburgh. Its amazing how much weight has been lifted off of my shoulders since her return. I finally have someone who truly understands me only a 45 minute drive away.

We kept ourselves wildy entertained for about 5 hours yesterday just making goofy faces and animal noises at each other.

A sure sign of best friendship.......or a sure sign that we're both a little slow.

Eh, no matter. I heart you Bestest!

You Don't Gotta Go Home But Ya Can't Stay Here!

2007-03-02T16:04:00.000-05:00

One of the funniest stories I've heard in awhile:

Roommate: When Jess and I were at Matrix I noticed this guy checking me out earlier in the night. He kept staring at me, and at the end of the night while Jess and I were still dancing, he started to approach me. As soon as he came within 3 feet of me he made a disgusted face and turned and walked away. I can't even imagine the drunken mess I must have looked like. I knew it was time to go home.

Sweatin' It Out

2007-03-01T10:04:00.000-05:00

Roommate and I have been looking for a hip hop dance class to attend so we can loose some poundage and have fun at the same time. Well, we found one. This particular dance class is held in East Liberty (S'liberty) and instructed by a man named "Big Weave". Which is really coincidental being that I was thinking about getting a weave put in myself. I envision me and Big Weave becoming BFFs. I would then call myself "Medium Weave" because you know, I wouldn't want to steal his thunder or anything.

My Friends Are Crazier Than Yours!

2007-02-27T12:01:00.000-05:00

Ready for some good ole' fashioned cattiness? Well my friends, your in for a treat!

Don't you love to make up nicknames with your friends about people you don't like? Since this blog has absolutely no anonymity, I am going to make up some anonymous names and see if you can guess who I'm talking about. Take for example:

Venetian Blinds - Girl, put the rolls away.

Mr. Pappy Pants - Dude, if your wearing TAPERED light wash jeans, your too old to be hanging off of me - at a bar - in public....go away. Your ruining my bad girl reputation I worked so hard to stereotype myself with. Go check out Venetian Blinds, that girl loves attention.

Pee-Pee Boy - If you would come out of the closet, you would be SO much happier. I would be happier too since you could be my new gay boyfriend!

Virginia - Stop smoking so god damn much! Every time I see you, you have a cigarette dangling out of your mouth. Pushing your kid on a swing - calls for a cigarette! Weeding the garden - calls for a cigarette! I think you just may die of lung cancer in the next 5 minutes.

Speedy Delivery! - Why oh why would you wear that hat to the bar? You really wanted us to make fun of you, didn't you? It was your evil plot all along.

"Steven Segall" - 1985 called, they want their haircut back.

Mr. and Mrs. Scary Face - I literally jumped in my seat when I came across your picture. You might want to get something done about that. I have the name, address, and phone number of a fabulous plastic surgeon, holla at me!

The Goblin - Why are you at a dance club wearing a jacket that brushes the floor beneath you? Oh that's right, your about 4'8" and you waddle around like E.T. I feel bad making fun of you, but being that you have no visible physical or mental handicaps, your free game.

Asshat - Maybe if you wouldn't roll your eyes constantly and act like a normal human being I wouldn't dislike you so much. Nah, I probably would.

Stupid Annoying Guy With Roses That I Would Like to Punch In The Face - NO! I do not want to buy one of your half dead roses for $5! And come to think of it, neither does Boyfriend. He would rather spend that money on drinks for me so he could take advantage of me later.

OK enough cattiness for now! Did I forget anyone? Let me know! Have ridiculous nicknames of your own? Feel free to add.

Feel free after this post to think that I'm a heartless biatch, but you know you have secret nicknames of your own.

We're Too Old to Show You Our Boobs....

2007-02-21T10:42:00.000-05:00

I began to think I was a fair weathered Catholic when I stopped going to church every Sunday.

I started thinking I was a bad Catholic when I fell in love with someone outside my religion.

And I found out I was going to hell last year when I didn't even go to church on Easter Sunday, because even the bad Catholics go to church on Easter Sunday and Christmas.

However, I never missed an Ash Wednesday......until today. I have decided not to grace our Almighty Father with my exhausted, half hungover ass. I think its better for both of us this way.

When the Weather Outside is Frightful....

2007-02-19T12:27:00.000-05:00

"I have good news and bad news"

"OK, give me the bad news first"

"We're out of toilet paper"

"WHAT?!? OK, so whats the good news?"

"I love you!"

The previous conversation was what Boyfriend told me in the midst of an ice storm that was falling over Western Pennsylvania last week. Driving was not an option, and since I am NEVER one to drip dry, we set out on our quest.

The gas station by Boyfriend's apartment is only up the road, but I'm sure it took us about 20 minutes to get there on foot. Ice was everywhere. Cars looked like M&M's. By this I mean that the car itself was the chocolate middle and the ice was the candy shell. The roads and the sidewalks we're all sheets of ice. Walking on the snow was a no-go, especially since this too was coated in ice, not to mention about 5 inches deep.

As I walked out of the apartment, I felt like Larry the Burglar from Home Alone when he tried to walk up the steps the the McCalister house. Even though I secured a death grip onto the railing, my legs were going everywhere. Then came the challenge of the sidewalk. It seemed that every step we took forward, we fell more steps backwards, and I couldn't help but sing the famous Paula Abdul song in my head the whole way.

Boyfriend had on what he called his "Ice Breakin' Boots", whose only purpose was to go stomping around in the snow while kicking it everywhere. Come to think of it, they really didn't even serve a purpose, except the purpose to annoy me.

Finally, we came to our destination and got our TP. I couldn't help but pick up a shit load of candy for myself, which included Junior Mints and Butterfingers that are two total RED LIGHT FOODS for me. If you were wondering, Red Light Foods for me consist of the foods that I could shove my face full of for days in and days out and not get sick of. Would I puke? Ya, probably. Would it stop me? Not so much. Puke and rally baby.

As for that 3 pounds I lost last week, I'm pretty sure that I put it back on plus some. Me thinks that in extreme cases such as this one, I should not be so much above the "drip dry" option.

Here I Am!

2007-02-16T15:41:00.000-05:00

OK, so I know you have missed me terribly for the past week....or so, but guess what? I finally dug myself out from under the 4-8 inches of snow and the 1 inch of ice JUST FOR YOU. I have been stranded in the wintry abyss (ummm, or my boyfriends apartment without internet) for the past week, and without further ado, I bring to you the return of my blog. I apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused.

Lettin' It All Hang Out....

2007-02-07T16:11:00.000-05:00

Before you proceed, I must warn you that this is not one of my usual blogs. I'm not trying to be funny or witty here, I'm using this as a place to vent and express my feelings.

Because, in actuality this IS an online journal. This is a little hard at times being that my blog is anything but anonymous, but when I think about it, I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm not using names here, I'm not even saying that the situations I am about to type about are about certain people, its just the way I'm feeling and right now, and I need to get it out.

I was looking at one of my friend's Myspace pages today who is about 5 years younger then me. It was when I was looking at her page that I felt a little twinge of jealousy. Throughout her page were pictures of her and her girlfriends. And not only were there pictures, but many, many comments from each of them all over her page. You could tell how much these girls loved each other and really looked forward to spending time with each other. This is what got me to thinking....

When did "girlfriends" stop being such a priority in our lives? I understand that people change, get married, have babies, but when did we just STOP making time for each other? And when did all the backstabbing, talking smack, and crude remarks begin? Wasn't that reserved for high school? Jesus people.

I can't even tell you the last time I had a TRUE girls night out with all of my friends. This is either because a.) Someone always INSISTS on bringing their significant other (who always end up fighting all night, I should know) or b.) If they didn't bring their significant other, they're either on the phone or texting them the whole night. Someone once told me when I was younger to truly value your girlfriends, because there will come a time in your life when you'll really need them. For example, when that loser boyfriend dumps you and all of a sudden you realize you have no one else to turn to, maybe then you can think about how you choose him over everyone that once meant something to you. But then again, once you find another loser, I'm sure the cycle will start all over again.

We all know what I have gone through in the past 2 years with friends. Your thinking that I should be one to talk because I have been dumping friends like crazy as of lately. Well to be honest with you, they weren't really friends. They talked behind my back, insulted my character, and constantly brought me down. If you call that a friend, I would love to know your definition of an enemy.

Sometimes I think it might be me. I know I have a tendency to overreact , but I doubt this. Like not even knowing when my last girls night out was, I don't even know when some of my last heart-to-hearts with some of them were. I regularly pour my heart out to a friend who I have known for a short time and lives hundreds of miles away because she is one of the few that actually listens to me. You know, listens? Remember that? LISTENING is when you give your undivided attention to someone. During this time your not thinking of your boyfriend, or your kid, or what better things you could be doing at the moment. To me, a true friend = a good listener.

Again, this is not to openly criticize ANY of you. To be honest, its not even ABOUT anyone in particular. These are just my thoughts and feelings at this particular moment in time. If you can't deal with them, stop reading my blog.

During college I knew that good friends were hard to find, but as I make this difficult journey deeper into life, I find that GREAT friends are few and far between, more difficult to meet, and even harder to keep.

Repeat Offenders

2007-02-01T10:14:00.000-05:00

Honestly I don't know what it is with me. Everywhere I go that requires a "service act" Charlie Brown's Rain Cloud seems to follow me everywhere. I have come to the conclusion that it is absolutely impossible for me to get good service anywhere I go, and I feel that now I must accept that.

Recently I started to take a stand at this bad service rain cloud that has been hovering over my head. I have complained to management, written e-mails, and tried to ruin MANY reputations along the way. The result? Coupons that bring me back to this fine establishments only to have the same bad service inflicted upon me once again. I'm really starting to think I have the worst luck in the entire world.

So why would getting my car fixed prove to be any different? Here is the latest story.

People that park in the streets of Rankin are complete cretins. I'm pretty sure they sit inside their row houses just waiting for me to walk away from my car so they can do something bad to it. One time I had a scratch all the way down the driver's side of my car, obviously from some piece of trash who recently discovered that keys could do some serious damages to other people's personal property. I wouldn't be surprised if that poor excuse for a human being tried to use it as a weapon next. The latest incident was a huge dent left in the front of my car from someone who smashed into it and was nice enough not to leave a note. My own personal belief is that they had no idea how to read or write, let alone have any type of car insurance.

So Tuesday night I go to drop my car off at the auto body shop I have grown oh-so accustomed to. I park my car where the owner told me to and dropped my keys in the key drop box on the side of the garage. I then jump in Boyfriend's car and am merrily on my way to go have dinner with Mom.

I felt as though I did everything right. Parked my car in said spot? Check! Label envelope correctly? Check! Drop keys in appropriate drop box? Check, check, mother f'in check! So imagine my delight when I got a call from said auto body place asking me where my car was. The conversation went a little like this:

Dumb Chick: Hello Meghan, this is Auto Body Place. We were calling you to see when you would be able to drop your car off. You were supposed to drop it off Tuesday night so we could have started the work on it yesterday. When would you be able to bring it in?

**Side Note: Why did they call me TODAY? Shouldn't they have noticed the missing car yesterday and called then? Ya, I don't know either.**

Me: Ummm, its there. I dropped it off on Tuesday night.

Dumb Chick: Oh it is? We never received the keys.

**At this point I start to panic because you know, I think someone stole my fucking car.**

Me: Well could you PLEASE go outside and look to see if its there so I know that no one STOLE it!!!!!

Dumb Chick (in a dazed kind of voice): Please hold. [hooolllllldddddddinnnnnnggggggg] Oh yes Meghan, its here. Sometimes the keys fall behind things in the drop box. Sorry about that.

And that was that. My main concern is that obviously this drop box is a problem. This has happened before. I can't even begin to imagine all the heart attacks this place has given out to its unsuspecting victims. I was seriously contemplating taking my car back, but I was sure the next place would screw me as well, if not harder.

The moral of the story kids? If you want any type of bad service, come out with me sometime! Never get waited on, get a wrong order, or better yet - not get your order at all, and if you want your car to disappear and then reappear out of thin air, I guess I'm good for that too.

Adventures In Public Transportation

2007-01-30T10:45:00.000-05:00

Apparently, Port Authority is more strapped for cash than we actually thought. Not only are they eliminating half of our bus routes, but they can't even fix the computer announcement voice on the current buses we're so gosh darn lucky to have. A week ago, when the bus driver opened the door, the bus would say random things to you like "School, Seventh Street, St. Catherine, Wexford." Being the child that I am, I laughed everytime the door opened.

Today, the bus welcomed me by saying "EBA, Wonton (instead of Downtown)", and it instantly made me hungry.

Fight or Flight

2007-01-22T12:12:00.000-05:00

I hate being alone when its dark out. I thought getting a dog would help the situation, but being that he is only about 6 lbs (of pure terror), that idea was soon put to rest. This morning, when I was in Boyfriend's apartment all by my lonesome besides the company of our two dogs, I almost gave myself a heart attack.

What you have to understand is that it is a chore for me to lock his front door. Why you ask? I'm really not too sure. I blame it solely on my stupidity and forgetfulness. Even though my safety and life may be at stake, I still choose to make it relatively easy for someone to bust through the door and murder me.

This morning while I was drying my hair, I heard a noise over the hairdryer which was followed by the sounds of both dogs barking and snarling. I stood there for a moment frozen in time. All I could think of was that holy shit there was a big huge man that came in through the front door because I didn't lock it and he is going to kick my dog and then shoot Boyfriend's dog and then rape me and get me pregnant and then I'll have a rape baby and then find out I have HIV and I'll also get some weird vaginal infection that won't be able to be cured and then he's going to come back and strangle me and leave me to die naked on the bathroom floor and Boyfriend will come home and say "I told you so"over my dead, beaten body.

Now, we all know how much I hate hearing "I told you so", so at that moment I decided I would have to fight off the rapist no matter how big and/or strong he may be. My choice of weapon? A can of aerosol hairspray and my bright red Steve Madden peep toe shoe. The attack method? To spray intruder with hairspray in both eyes with overpowering aerosol hairspray and then strike him forcefully in the head with bright red shoe so that if his blood were to get on the shoe, they would not be ruined from the stain (they were in fact very expensive). The next step would be to run out the front door and scream for help even though I was still in my underwear.

As my heart laid in my throat, I proceeded out to the living room ready to kill or be killed. When I got out there, Boyfriend's dog was on the sofa wagging his tail while he stared out the window. The said "intruder" was Boyfriend's neighbor who was leaving the building to go to work. I breathed a sigh of relief and then started laughing at the crazy hat she was wearing. Then, remembering she could see me, quickly darted inside the doorway before she noticed the crazy girl that stood in front of her, in her underwear, holding a shoe and hairspray, who looked like a cracked out version of J-Lo's character in Enough.

I later explained the situation to Boyfriend:

Me: Your stupid dog scared the shit out of me this morning. He made me think someone was breaking into the house!

Boyfriend: Was someone there?!

Me: No, it was just the neighbor girl leaving for work, but I grabbed my hairspray and shoe for protection, I was ready to fight!

Boyfriend: What were you going to do with that? Style their hair?

Me: Shut up.

Mr. Trump, You're Fired!

2007-01-10T15:29:00.000-05:00

OK, is anyone else as annoyed by The Donald as I am? His hair has always irritated me, but thats besides the point. He is now bringing his DAUGHTER on the Apprentice (reason #4578 why I don't watch that show anymore) and his feud with Rosie is getting totally out to control.

Don't get me wrong here, I'm not the biggest Rosie fan either. In fact, I find her quite annoying. But seriously, we EXPECT this behavior out of Ms. O'Donnell. She's a comedian. Its her job to make people laugh, and she did a pretty good job of it when she made fun of Mr. I Need A Hairstylist Like, Real Bad. She made me laugh, and thats a feat in itself being that I'm pretty hard person to please. Donald Trump is supposed to be a business man, he is supposed to act like and demonstrate a professional image, because, well, being a professional is really the image I assume he has been trying to project. When I read this letter he recently wrote to Rosie, I couldn't help but laugh at his childish attitude as well as his poor understanding of the English language (not that I'm one to talk, but seriously people, I'm not Donald Trump). I mean really, it looks like I could have wrote that letter while drinking a few martinis, and that my friends is very, very sad.

Mr. Trump, if you can't take the heat, I suggest that you retreat into one of the 4 million homes you own around the world, and stop terrorizing us with more seasons of The Apprentice. I used to be a big fan of yours, but when your spawn made her way into the board room, I had to cut my loses. Also, maybe you could revamp The Apprentice and make the grand prize an opportunity for the winner to give you a grammar lesson or two, because lets face it, it really wouldn't hurt.

As for me, I'm going to keep myself amused until his next letter is published. Then I can laugh myself into stitches once again.

Merry Christmas, Love The IRS

2007-01-09T14:59:00.000-05:00

About a couple months ago Boyfriend had suggested that I should get on some sort of medication. I figured that he was either a) being funny or b) would enjoy a more sedated Meghan so he could possibly have some quiet time, because lets face it, there is no such thing as quiet time when Meghan's around. I hate to say this, and I never will again, but Boyfriend has never been so right.

When I came home from work on Friday, I fished around in my mailbox and found an unusually large envelope from my friends at the IRS. Being my optimistic self (insert gut busting laughter here) I figured it was a bigger refund because I obviously deserve more money being that I work so hard (bust a gut once more). A late Christmas Card from Uncle Sam himself, how could I be so lucky?

But this wasn't your ordinary, everyday Christmas Card. My usual Christmas Cards have a funny cartoon on the front and a large sum of cash inside. Apparently Uncle Sam had got things confused because he was asking ME for money. And people, I'm not talking about $5-$10, he seriously wants everything but my blood and my first born child (OK not really, but its damn near close).

What happened next completely proves Boyfriend's point. I must warn you, there is a psychotic scene to follow where I act like a fat five year old that got its ginormous lollipop taken away.

OK, you've been warned.

I totally freaked. I called my mom and yelled at her. Next, I called Boyfriend and yelled at him, because apparently in Meghan Land its everyone elses fault. I threw things, I yelled at the cats, I yelled at the dog, I screamed obsenities at nothing at all, I threw a couple more things, and then cried. What got into me? I'm not too sure of that. A periodic possesion by the devil. Perhaps. A sudden explosion of the Terrets I've been trying to hide so well? Not so much. PMS? Definetely the culprit (remember in Meghan Land, its never Meghan's fault).

But I'm not psycho, just hormonal....I swear.

After I calmed down, I called everyone and apologized, profusely. Mom just laughed at me, which I'm not surprised at, and Boyfriend made the valiant (and heroic) effort to actually come to my house and calm me down. Thankfully by the time he arrived I had just reached the crying stage. He coddled me like the small child I was acting like and of course, laughed at me as well, which I couldn't blame him for. OK so maybe he wasn't right. I highly doubt I need to be on prescription meds, but a high dose of Midol wouldn't hurt. But then again, crazy people don't really know that they're crazy either, do they?

*UPDATE*

I just recently talked to a tax attorney and I don't have to pay the money. Take THAT Uncle Sam! Next year, you can keep your lousy Christmas Cards to yourself! Ha!

Why You Shouldnt' Watch Movies With Me

2007-01-03T11:33:00.000-05:00

When I watch movies its really hard for me to suspend reality and just freakin' enjoy the movie. Everyone I watch movies with always ends up telling me to shut the fuck up. I watched John Tucker Must Die this weekend by my lonesome. These are the thoughts that were either in my head or came out of my mouth, because apparently talking to myself is cool too.

- WHAT kind of high school allows girls to dance around in trampy cheer leading outfits, surely none that I know!

- John Tucker definitely does not exist. If he was a REAL guy in a REAL high school, he would have gotten his ass kicked my now.

- Umm in what high school does the dress code permit belly shirts?!

- Jenny Garth is way too hot to be a mom, no mom is seriously THAT hot.

- There's no way that little blonde girl wouldn't have gotten knocked up by now.

- What spelling bee would ask an 8th grader to spell "loser"? Was that a spelling bee for retards?

- Where do they make bras that are 100% hemp? Do they even exist? And if so, wouldn't they be itchy?

- No one could move their child around that much without CYS coming and snatching them up.

- Men would never wear thong...NEVER. Unless they were getting paid ALOT of money, like all of them were to be in that movie.

- Seriously, where does it say in high school basketball regulations that you can hang off the hoop when you make a basket?

- Why are goth girls attending a school function? They look bored. Why don't they just leave?

Seriously, don't ever watch movies with me. You have been warned.

Quite the Reputation

2007-01-02T11:40:00.000-05:00

This was sent by e-mail this morning. I'm not sure if I should be embarrassed or complimented by this:

Co-worker: How was New Year's Eve? I loved your pictures...lol

Me: Hey girl! it was fun...how was yours?

Co-worker: Mine was good, we went to see a band play. Last year I made a huge mess so this year we kept it quiet. Where did you guys go?

Me: We went to Roland's in the strip district. open bar......

Co-worker: Ohhh wow. That is pretty cool. Are you allowed back there?

Why I Love Roommate #1

2007-01-02T10:48:00.000-05:00

Me: Didtheyjustsendmeanotherfuckingbillwhatthefuck??

Boyfriend of Roommate #1: I don't even know what to say about that.

Roommate #1: The said thing is is that I totally understood everything you just said.

This is what true friendship is all about.

Rock On

2007-01-02T10:29:00.000-05:00

So my rock star status was officially confirmed yesterday when I threw my back out because I was vomiting so much.

With that being said, you can imagine how my night went. Let's just say that I took full advantage of the open bar and got more than my moneys worth.

And with that being said, I am really tired of hurting myself. What happened to the good ole' days when I could act a fool and not mangle myself in any way? Apparently those are long gone along with my waistline, which is another issue I'm having right now. Last week I went to stretch my legs and my stomach got in the way. What. the. fuck. I refuse to look like one of those huge fat ladies that has to walk like a bell because they have too much stuff hanging everywhere. Nuh-uh - not going to happen.

I officially started my diet yesterday, not because it was a resolution, but because the holidays were over, the cookies were eaten, and Roommate #1's McDonald's gift card was used up (Roommate #2 will be added to the mix very shortly). I want to join a gym, but it seems that every time one injury goes away another one keeps popping up. And if I join a gym, I wonder what injuries could come out of that, especially with heavy things and questionable machinery around me at all times. I'm bound to break something or somehow disfigure myself.

Well New Year, new injuries. Bring on the gym.

Dumb Things Said By Yours Truly

2006-12-29T15:06:00.000-05:00

Last night at yet another family dinner, we were discussing Kobe beef or steak or whatever the hell it is.

Uncle: That's the beef they have in Japan right?

Dad: Ya, and they feed the cows beer.

Me: I bet that's how I would taste if someone decided to chop me up and eat me.

*blank stares followed by Boyfriend sliding my drink away from me*

New Catchphrase

2006-12-29T10:21:00.000-05:00

My friend Melissa and I have coined a new catchphrase. It's called being thrown out "Fresh Prince Style". If you've ever watched the show and are familiar with the characters of Uncle Phil and Jazz, you know exactly what we're talking about. If not, you will have to look it up on the Internet because I am feeling too lazy to explain it today. Here is how our new catchphrase can be used in a sentence:

"If I would go into Eat N Park and bitch slap that waitress, I would get thrown out of there Fresh Prince Style."

OR

"The bus driver was so mad at the passenger for peeing on the seat, he threw him off the bus Fresh Prince Style."

Get it? OK people, your goal is to use our new catchphrase in at least 2 sentences today so you can get the hang of it.

Mom and Me

2006-12-28T15:05:00.000-05:00

Most conversations that I have with my mother crack me up mostly because they don't make any sense. Here are some that we have had over the holiday and I promise you more to come in the near future

THE IPOD

Mom: I want one of those ipods for Christmas.

*side note - mom is technologically retarded*

Me: Do you have a program on your computer that can download the songs for you?

Mom: No, but you do.

Me: See, now this is why I don't want to buy you one, you have to do this yourself.

Mom: I don't see why this is such a big deal, I only want a couple songs!

Me: .......

Me: Do you actually even know what an ipod is?

THE IPOD PART II

Mom: I've changed my mind, I want an ipod, but with a radio on it.

Me: Again, do you really know what an ipod is?

THE APPETIZER OF DEATH

Me: Go ahead FC, pick the appetizer you want and I promise you I'll eat it (duh).

FC: OK lets get the spinach and cheese dip.

Me: Good choice!

FC: Oh I didn't see they had fried macaroni and cheese....let's get that!

Me: Even better!

Waitress: Can I take your order?

Me: Yes, can I have a Diet Coke and can I also put in an appetizer order for the fried mac and cheese?

Mom: YOUR NOT GETTING THE SPINACH AND CHEESE DIP!?!?!?

*she is yelling at me at this point if you didn't quite catch that*

Me: No, but we can change it back if you want.

Mom: Why? I wasn't going to eat any of it.

THE CELL PHONE SHE'LL NEVER LEARN HOW TO WORK

Mom: I want one of those Razor Cell Phones.

Me: I don't think you need that.

Mom: I want it for Christmas.

Me: OK, do you want it from your current wireless carrier, or do you want to switch?

Mom: No, I just want the phone.

Me: Well you need to get it from somewhere.

Mom: No you don't.

Me: If I just buy it, it will be hundreds of dollars.

Mom: So? Don't you think I'm worth it?

Suzy Homemaker I am Not

2006-12-27T12:55:00.000-05:00

Disasters I have caused lately:

The Sugar Cookie Disaster

Apparently sugar cookie dough cannot last that long, and if you do decide to put it in the refrigerator, you should cover it. Boyfriend tried to help me make my impending candy cane cookies.

Boyfriend: This cookie dough is hard as a rock.

Me: So, it still tastes OK.

Boyfriend: No, it won't taste OK, its as hard as a rock.

Me: Tastes good to me.

Boyfriend: Sometimes I just really don't understand your thought process.

Me: Do you really think there is one?

Boyfriend: I can imagine the recipe you would write for sugar cookies "First, set aside 30 days".

The Sprained Ankle

Sick of the long week I had spent in tennis shoes, I decided that it was time to get back into a pair of heels again. A pair of REALLY big heels.

It took about 4 steps on hardwood floor for me to tell that this was a bad decision.

Me: Can you tell I'm walking funny?

Boyfriend: No, its like your pimp walk.

The Birthday Party

One of my good friend's (I'll call her Cool Mom, CM for short) was having a birthday party for her 2 year old this past weekend. When I arrived at her house, I saw that she was struggling to get the food onto the table. Against my better judgment and her ignorance, I tried to assist her.

My first task was to prepare a spinach dip. CM did not defrost the spinach. I said we could just run hot water over it, she said to put it in the microwave. I did as she said because unlike my suggestion, it made sense.

I was primed as a peach after I prepared my dip and put it in the oven. I didn't break anything, I didn't burn any flesh off myself, and no one had lost any limbs. I was very pleased with myself until CM discovered that there was no spinach in the spinach dip and yelled for me to take it out of the oven - NOW.

Soon after, Roommate #1 arrived and immediately expressed her discontent of me being in the kitchen. Soon after that, I burnt her arm with bacon grease by throwing (yes, seriously THROWING) a piece of wrapped bacon into the already simmering pan.

The Ironing Mishap

Yesterday I took a scolding hot iron to my favorite sheer shirt. The result? Total meltdown and one unhappy camper.

Needless to say I've learned my lesson. I will now be hibernating in my room so I can not cause anymore damage to myself or others. See you in the new year....possibly.

A New World Record

2006-12-27T11:46:00.000-05:00

I would just like all of my readers to know that I have gone two whole weeks without being drunk. Granted, I have drank, but not the mass proportions I usually do that leave me in shame and shambles the next morning.

That being said, this weekend is New Years. Bring it on.

Krazy Kaufmann's Lady

2006-12-27T11:41:00.000-05:00

I have been meaning to blog about this interesting character for awhile now. KKL sits outside of the old Downtown Kaufmann's (which is now Macy's, but whatever) and screams obscenities to me and whoever else decides to cross her path that day. This is what she was screaming on Friday:

"Cut her asshole out!"

Ouch KKL....ouch.

You Have to Have Thick Skin to Roll With THIS Family

2006-12-27T09:25:00.000-05:00

One of the things my family does best when we are all together is pick on each other, especially when there is alchool involved (which is pretty much always). This Christmas did not disappoint. Here is the list of victims:

-- My Uncle's girlfriend let it slip that he wore two totally different shoes to work that week. It was pretty bad. One shoe he had to tie to put on, and the other was a slip on. When Uncle came over on Christmas day, my Dad even went as far as to switch one of his own shoes with Uncle's to see if he would notice before he left their house.

-- We persistently made fun of my Grandfather after my Grandmother said that they would take the bus everywhere when they first started dating. We called him "Big Spender" for the rest of the night.

-- Uncle and his Girlfriend bought Favorite Cousin's Boyfriend the same exact shirt he had on that night. FC's boyfriend made the mistake of saying that it was a great gift since he hadn't washed the one he had on in a while. This threw the family into an uproar and I refused to sit next to him.

-- Uncle's Girlfriend made the mistake of telling us that her family used to hang their Christmas Tree out of their bathroom window when she was growing up. This led to a HUGE debate, and eventually a Google search to see if it was a true tradition or if she was just "weird."

-- UG's son wanted to go to midnight mass after about 6 beers. She the proceeded to tell him to go and get blessed in hopes that it would make HER life easier.

-- A certain relative's alchoolism was the talk of the holiday and random search parties were sent out to look for any reminisce she might have left behind.

-- Grandma and Grandpap's inheritance is always the talk of our family gatherings. The second generation gets grandpap's inheritance and are constantly telling him to shut lights off and not to donate to any more charities. The third generation (me) gets Grandma's inheritance and we always thank her for not donating to charities being that we are the only charity she needs to be concerned with. Mine and FC's boyfriends think this is horrible. We think its hilarious.

-- The Fam always finds it hilarious to refer to FC's boyfriend as "Ben" behind his back. Ben was FC's old boyfriend who bears a striking resemblance to the new boyfriend. I find it hilarious when they slip up and say it to his face.

-- Making fun of Grandma's hearing is always free game. Sometimes we just mouth stuff to her to see if she can tell the difference. We have been doing this for years.

-- My mom always tells me that my dog is the only "grandchild" she will ever have. I always look forward to seeing my dad's face when I respond with "Well, that's what you think" while I rub my stomach and smile.

So, anyone want to marry me?

Always Naughty, Never Nice

2006-12-22T13:53:00.000-05:00

Just thought I would share.......

Here is a random e-mail from a co-worker that was sent to me today. I'll exclude the body of it, being that it was just discussing happy hour. The P.S. is what killed me.

"PS I just saw Santa and he said you ain't getting SHIT"

Well that's good to know, being that shit wasn't even on my Christmas list this year.

Worst. Weekend. EVER!!! Part II

2006-12-22T09:51:00.000-05:00

Saturday night was pretty uneventful being that Boyfriend got sick and I got the pleasure of listening to him hack up a lung all night instead of going out to dinner like I really wanted to. And the fun didn't end there.

We were both woken up at 4 in the morning by Cayden's cries. I knew what this meant. I tried to go back to sleep and pretend that I didn't hear anything, but I figured that was too cruel even for me. Doggy was covered in crap yet again. I held him out in front of me like the little infectious disease that he was, and took him outside so he could leave even more cowpies all over the sidewalk for people to step in.

This is when I found out that Boyfriend knows me too well. When I got back in the house, he had already cleaned up Cayden's crate for me. Lucky for him. I was on such a tirade that night that I probably would have suffocated him with a pillow if I came back in and saw that he was still in bed. Boyfriend is a good boyfriend, and I appreciate him.

After that ordeal, Boyfriend couldn't stop coughing so we watched some TV for about a half hour. As soon as we said we were going to bed, Cayden started shaking. He followed me into the bathroom, and proceeded to cover the bathroom floor in poo. I then got the pleasure of washing his ass for about the 135th time that week.

Sunday proved to be no different. After I brought in my groceries from the store, I thought it would be a good idea to take the dog for a walk while I was on the phone with Old College Roommate, totally neglecting the fact that I am THE most uncoordinated person in the world and a world renowned klutz.

I stepped in a hole in the sidewalk, rolled my ankle, and heard the worst cracking noises that still give me nightmares. The dog tried to run away from me (way to go Lassie) and I had to lunge to grab him. Now people, I cannot tell you how many times I have tripped, fell, or smacked myself in the head with something and have been able to escape without serious injury. It is absolutely HORRIFYING that I seriously screwed myself up because I was walking my dog and talking on the phone at the same time.

While this is going on OCR is still talking. I try to interrupt her about 3 times before she hears me.

Me: OCR, I think I really hurt myself.

OCR: What?!

Me: I stepped in a hole in the sidewalk and rolled my ankle. It made a loud cracking sound and now it hurts really bad!

OCR: *Loud Laughter* Aww Meggie, did you forget that you can't walk and chew gum the same time?

Me: Yes, and I don't know why I even tried to overstep my boundaries. I have to go now and try to hobble my way home.

Ya, I really f'ed up my ankle. It swelled to the size of a baseball and I even had to call of work on Monday because I couldn't walk on it. The thing that surprises me (or perhaps doesn't surprise me) is that when I tell someone about it, their first reaction is to laugh uncontrollably instead of asking me if I'm alright. I can feel the love.

Christmas is this weekend. Hopefully I will get my Tiffany's 10 Row Necklace and everything will be right with the world again.

Updates

2006-12-20T12:53:00.000-05:00

Updates are coming. I have gotten extremely busy at work and home with the coming holiday. I promise you all more hillarious stories in the near future. For now, please try to contain yourselves.

Worst. Weekend. EVER!!! Part I

2006-12-20T12:39:00.000-05:00

OK so it has been awhile since I last posted. Let me tell you why.....

The past weekend started out kind of nice. I went to my Firm's Christmas Party on Friday night (which let me out of work an hour early...woo hoo!!!), and its hard to have a bad time when you are given an unlimited amount of free alchool and food. I sat, I conversed, I drank my paychecks worth of alchool, and I of course, ate my face off. All of these aspects combined make one happy Meghan. Things got pretty interesting when someone brought out a camera. Everytime Guy I Don't Know With a Camera would take a picture of my friends and I, we would make stupid faces and give him the thumbs up sign (umm have another drink Meghan and friends). After doing this multiple times, his camera stopped working. This lead us to believe that we did indeed, break his camera.

This is where the fun ended.

I was woken by my roommate at about 10 in the morning to inform me that yet again, the dog had shit all over himself. After almost throwing up about 15 times and giving Cayden his 4th bath this week, I decided to get some of my Christmas presents together. After about, oh, a half hour of that, I got bored. And since it is almost physically and mentally impossible for me to finish anything I start, I decided that I wanted to get a haircut. I called my favorite salon and to my surprise I got an appointment the exact time I wanted it for, on a Saturday none-the-less. OK people, how does that old saying go? Oh ya, when it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.

On the way to my hair appointment, I was on the phone with my dad talking about the dog's crap-ca-pades. Refusing to let my "bad driver because she doesn't pay attention" reputation down, I made a right at the bottom of my hill instead of a left. Not a big problem right? WRONG! I was stuck in idle traffic for forty. five. minutes. 45 minutes of not moving anywhere. 45 minutes of me cussing and screaming at absolutely nothing because I was in the car by myself. 45 minutes of just staring out the window and mouthing words to songs I barely knew on the radio while most likely looking like an absolute headcase to other drivers surrounding me. The only good thing was that i was able to push my hair appointment a half hour, but in hindsight - not so good.

When I got there the hairdresser (who had never done my hair before) called me Stacie. I should have know then that she was a few fries short of a Happy Meal. If you are that much of a mental midget that you cannot look at an appointment book and READ someones name, you are just proving Darwin's Theory of Natural Selection to be false.

Idiot Girl gave me the worst haircut ever. She seriously butchered me. When I told her to stop cutting because it was getting too short she said "Well, that's what you wanted". Um no retard, that's NOT what I wanted. I told you I wanted ONE inch cut off not THREE. I had already made the observation that she didn't know how to read, but then she proved her idiot status to me even more by showing me she couldn't count either. She would also ask me my preferences AFTER she would perform the act like - "You don't want to be able to put your bangs behind your ear right? *Snip*" - "Um, well I WOULD have liked that, but apparently now I'm going to have to wait about a month to do it" and "Do you like hairspray? *said as she's immersing my hair with about a half can of it" - "Actually no, I don't use it, but at least now I know that I happen to get stuck in a TORNADO on my way home, my hair wouldn't get messed up!"

I walked out of the salon looking like a boy with Cindy Lauper bangs. I cried the whole way home. When Boyfriend came over to comfort me, I pushed him away and said that I looked like a boy with boobs. I told him he would have to turn gay in order to stay with me. And this people, was just Saturday afternoon.

Happy?? Holidays

2006-12-14T11:38:00.000-05:00

An email exchange between Favorite Cousin and I:

Me: "So, when are you coming home? FYI for you and the boyrfriend....on Christmas my friends and I usually hit the bar at night when we've had TOO much family time. I think we're going somewhere in mckeesport if you guys want to come with us."

FC: "I'll be home this Saturday - I have quite the break this year! Yeah I'm all about drinking on Christmas - my mom's side is usually throwing things and not talking by like 7 pm so it's a good idea - I'll let you know!"

Surprises Aren't Always Good

2006-12-14T10:37:00.000-05:00

*DISCLAIMER: THIS STORY MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR PEOPLE WITH WEAK STOMACHS (OR ARE JUST PLAIN SISSIES)*

My dog has once again set my biological clock back about 10 years and has made me realize that I will probably not be a good parent.

Wednesdays are my days to run errands and catch up around the house. Yesterday, I filled up my gas tank, went and picked up my prescription and was looking forward to coming home and putting up our Christmas Tree. This however, would not be the case.

As soon as I opened the door to the dog's room the smell hit me like a punch in the face. Upon further investigation I realized that he not only crapped, but diarrheaed all.over.himself. I mean it was EVERYWHERE, even on his face! I am absolutely FURIOUS. Even though I know deep down inside that he could not help it, I still think he did it to spite me. As soon as I let him out of his crate he was even nice enough to leave terd marks wherever he decided to step on the carpet. I then proceeded to scoop him up and hold him waaaay out in front of me like he was some sort of infectious disease, while he grunted like a pig to show his discontent until I put him down outside.

You would think that my little creature got everything out of his system considering that his whole crate was covered in shit, but when I took him outside, he left a HUGE cowpie right in the middle of the sidewalk. I couldn't pick this up for obvious reasons, but I'll tell you what I could do. I got the honor of wiping my dog's ass with a plastic bag since not all of that cowpie was left on the sidewalk.

As soon as I got in the house I went down in the basement and threw him in the stationary tub and hosed him off. He shivered and cried the whole time and I actually started to feel bad for him. Poor guy had a rough day. He pooped all over himself, got his bed and favorite toy thrown away, and worst of all had to get a bath (which he hasn't had in a long time since we just went through the whole neutering process).

When it was all over, both Cayden and I were squeaky clean (being that I always get "bath by default" whenever I give him one) and we spent the rest of the night putting up our decorations.

My prediction? I will be multiple personalities mom. At first I will hate my children for doing something that wasn't their fault, but then I will end up feeling sorry for them when they start to cry. I will give them kisses and feed them most likely. I will then go about my normal business pretending like nothing happened.

Wait, that's sorta like MY mom.....uh oh.

Natasha

2006-12-13T12:21:00.000-05:00

Does Natasha Bedingfield read my blog? If so, did it inspire her new song "Single"? Ya, I didn't think so either.

What Hell Looks Like

2006-12-11T12:28:00.000-05:00

Yes, I experienced Hell last night....well, my own personal hell anyways. For some strange reason that even I don't know, I wanted to get Cayden's picture taken with Santa last night at the mall. I made Favorite Co-Worker come with me and convinced her to bring her Maltese, Dakota. Little did I know that I would be held prisoner in my personal hell for 3 hours. After the first hour, I was determined not to leave no matter how much Favorite Co-Worker pleaded with me. If I was there that long already, god dammit I was getting that picture taken.

I would have rather taken a trip to the dentist, while having to hold 2 babies that had diarrhea and have a gaggle of loud, obnoxious teenagers around me while I was getting a root canal.......seriously.

This night is now dubbed "The Night of Bad Decisions" by me. For another reason that I'm not really sure of, I totally overlooked the fact that I'm scared to death of large dogs. In my warped mind (we'll call this Meghan Land from now on), I figured only cute little dogs like mine would be there. For the first hour, I cowered in the corner because of a ferocious German Shepherd that was growling and snarling at everything that crossed its path. I'm glad that the mentally incompetent owners of this dog thought it was a good idea to bring it to a place full of children and small dogs. I'm surprised no one got their arm ripped off. Idiots.

Adding to the excitement was FCW's totally out of control dog. The mall was Dakota's bathroom. He peed on store ledges, FCW's foot, and also her coat....twice. He barked at other dogs, tangled himself in about 12 other leashes, and ran away from us multiple times. FCW was not amused, I however, could not stop laughing especially since everyone was commenting on how well behaved my dog was.

A Boston Terrier also tried to attack my little creature for no reason whatsoever. If no one was looking, I would have punted that piece o' crap across the mall.

Did I mention the picture sucks? Both of our dogs' eyes are closed and Santa looks extra specially creepy. I blame this on the incredible large amount of alchool and/or drugs Santa probably took prior to this event. I guess I can't really blame him, I wouldn't expect anyone to sit through that completely sober.

After wasting 3 hours of our life and one crappy picture later, we both got home around 11:30. The e-mail I got this morning from FCW left me in stitches:

"caydin a good dog... caydin's the best dog.... caydin, caydin,caydin.... i am so friggin tired...."

It's good to know she enjoyed herself as much as I did.

Why Heels Don't Work For Me

2006-12-08T12:31:00.000-05:00

Seriously, I am looking HOT today. This morning I actually ironed all of my clothes, put make up on, and matched my shirt to my favorite Steve Madden pointy toe heels. I'm pretty sure that people at my office don't even know its me. It's probably like Halloween to them. I'm not really sure whey I did this. The single attorneys here aren't that cute (OK they're ugly) and I'm not into women, so I guess I'll go out on a limb here and say I did this for myself, because I am in fact, selfish.

I got to work, set my stuff down, changed out of my sneakers into my sexy shoes and went downstairs to buy me a bagel. I then proceeded to strut my stuff all around Oxford Centre being that I was indeed, the shit.

Since I refuse to pay the extra .50 for the pop that they sell where I buy my bagel, I had to take a trip downstairs to the little food stand they have in our lobby. This decision entailed me to take the escalator.

Usually escalators don't give me that much trouble. I think the escalator and I may have a mutual understanding with each other, unlike the stairs and the cracks in the sidewalk do. I can glide onto the first step that comes my way, search through my belongings on them without falling backwards, and sometimes I can even run down the steps (this usually occurs when I get off work).

Today was a problem.

Some sort of sticky substance had gotten on the bottom of my sexy shoes, and the noise it made was driving. me. crazy. I had to take action. While i was on the escalator I lifted my one shoe up to peel off the sticky substance that had latched itself on to me. At that same moment, my heel that was SUPPOSED to be firmly planted on the step slipped out from under me sending me flying backwards while my arms flailed everywhere in order to find the railings that would prevent my almost imminent face plant onto the floor. Surprisingly, I grabbed onto the railings and got my balance before I severely injured myself, but not before I made the LOUD noises that echoed throughout the lobby. I saw some guy snicker at me, and I had to muster up all the self control I had not to run up to him and sucker punch him in the chest, thus disabling his ability to breathe (and laugh).

I was wrong about the understanding I had with you escalator. I didn't think that you were like the other obstacles that I battle with on a daily basis. I thought we had a deal!!!! Rot in hell.

FYI

2006-12-07T11:01:00.000-05:00

ATTENTION: ALIENS ARE COMING TO ABDUCT ALL THE GOOD LOOKING AND SEXY PEOPLE.

YOU WILL BE SAFE!

I'M JUST HERE TO SAY GOODBYE.

Props to my Homies

2006-12-07T10:41:00.001-05:00

I would just like to give props to the Roommate and myself. For reasons that I am not going to get into, our intelligence far surpasses the average woman. Seriously, we're up there with Oprah.

Hopefully there are more of our breed out there. However, I'm not too sure if mankind could really handle it.

So cheers to our type of women in the world. Women who are strong, independent, and won't put up with your crap. Prepare for us to take over the world.

Bus Neanderthals v. T Snobs

2006-12-05T14:46:00.000-05:00

This topic has become a running joke between Boyfriend and I for about a year now. I ride the bus that mostly runs through the inner cities of Pittsburgh, and is apparently at fault for my "neanderthal" ways. He on the other hand rides the pretentious T that runs through most of the outer suburbs of Pittsburgh, and is apparently at fault for his "snobby" ways.

If you knew us as a couple, you would know that these stereotypes don't fit us at all. In fact, its kind of the other way around, thus giving it more hilarity than intended.

The whole joke got started when my old sports fanatic boss gave me and the rest of my office permission to go and get hammered the day after the Steelers won the Superbowl at a nearby bar downtown. I was drinking from 10 am to about 4 pm with no lunch and very little breakfast. I'm sure we can all imagine the state I was in when Boyfriend came to take my sorry inebriated butt home after he got off work.

I was in no condition to drive, so he took me back to his place. In order for us to go back there, we had to take the Snotty T.

Apparently, this is where I embarrassed the crap out of him.

Aside from my loud and obnoxious behavior, I also became the potty mouthed personal space invader on our ride home. At this point Boyfriend had enough and looks over at me and says thorough his teeth, "You can't act this way on here." I, of course, counteract this statement in my I'm drunk so I actually think I'm speaking quietly voice "THAT'S BECAUSE YOU'RE ALL T SNOBS!!!!!" This sent Boyfriend into hysterics and he responded through his stifled laughter, "Well here on the T, we don't act like you BUS people."

This is how the stereotype was created. Now, when I ride both forms of transportation I can really appreciate the difference. Most people on the T are very quiet, and the most you hear out of them are the rustlings of their newspapers that they are ALWAYS reading. They are polite and say excuse me when they need to walk past you. On the other hand, Bus People are so loud that you may as well just throw your newspaper away, or on the other hand, just throw it on the floor, because apparently that's the "Bus People" way. There's always a mom beating the crap out of her kids and always someone who is sharing their phone conversation with the whole bus. The words "excuse me" are not a part of Bus People's language, they just push past people so they can get off the bus as quickly as possible so that they don't miss happy hour.

Our stereotype was more then justified today when I saw the following headline:

"Man shoots himself [in thigh] on bus on South Side"

I'm definitely going to get teased about this tonight.

Making My Parents Proud

2006-12-04T10:26:00.000-05:00

After I posted last Friday, I was informed that I was on Eat n' Park's "Most Wanted List" because of the drunken fit I had there on Thanksgiving Eve. People, I have really hit a new low. My roommate begs to differ, she says I have hit a new high. Whatever the case, I know I cannot take my drunk or sober ass there in the near future. Crap.

Who Knew?

2006-12-04T09:29:00.000-05:00

The boyfriend took me ice skating over the weekend and at first, I didn't want to go. Boyfriend did not understand this. Boyfriend told me that when he told the girls at work that he was taking me ice skating they all responded with "aww I wish MY boyfriend would take ME ice skating". I told him to take them instead of me, he declined.

I hate ice skating. Not only can I not skate for CRAP, I always have bad experiences when someone forces me to go with them.

When I first get on the ice I have to hold onto the railing before I find my bearings. This small moment of embarrassment is fine by me, but it seems whenever it is my turn to go, there is always a little fat kid dangling right on the part of the railing that I need to hang onto. Instead of going with my instincts and knocking the little fat kid over, I skate around them while my arms and legs flail about. This on the other hand, is too much embarrassment for me to handle.

Then there is the 7 year old hockey player that sees I can't skate for crap. He weaves in and out of my path and sometimes sprays me with ice. I try to trip him (ya I'm evil, you don't have to remind me), but I end up falling on the ice, embarrassing myself even more. What a little turd.

Finally, there are the teenagers. I hate teenagers more than I hate children simply because of the fact that they should know better. The teenagers see me flailing about because of the above mentioned things, and laugh loudly and point at me. I hate teenagers.

However, this weekend proved to be different. After boyfriend payed a RIDICULOUS price for us to skate on the world's smallest ice skating rink, and about 3 skate exchanges later we were on the ice and I was having the time of my life. Was it because boyfriend and I were skating hand-in-hand? No. Was it because of the Christmas ambiance that surrounded me? Definitely Not. It was the sheer fact that all around me people were hurting themselves. This was the best form of entertainment I had had in a long time.

If you know me, you know that this is one of the things I enjoy most in life. I am THE biggest fans of America's Funniest Home Videos simply because of this horrible obsession I have. I laugh myself to pieces when I see people swinging into trees or hitting themselves in the face with a hammer. The ice skating rink brought this to life for me. People were laying all over the ice and there were constant thuds from people wiping out when they ran into the walls. At this point, boyfriend looks over at me and sees a smile, rather than a scowl on my face.

Boyfriend: OK one more time around and then we can leave.

Me: Can we make it two times?

Boyfriend: Uh oh, it seems like someone is having fun!

(Me with disgusted look on my face)

Boyfriend: Don't worry I won't tell anyone.

Me: And I appreciate that.

I'm Baaaacccck!

2006-12-01T15:08:00.000-05:00

OK wow, it sure has been awhile! I hope that everyone is happy to have me back after my severe case of writer's block. So you want to know what I have been up to lately? Since you've asked so nicely, I will answer.

Well I got myself a dog...I know what you must be thinking, "uhhh Meghan, don't you hate dogs?" Yes, I do hate dogs, but not pint sized ones that have eyes the same color as mine and that I have trained to perfection....well OK not perfection, but the obedience class I will be taking him to in January should have a hand in that. Here is a picture of my little creature:

The cats have turned on me. I now call them "The Assholes". They spill crap all over the kitchen and expect me to clean it up. They are starting to get sick on me again. They try to trip me when I walk down the stairs. These are just a few examples of the incidents I have encountered since bringing the d-o-double g into THEIR house. I swear I can hear them snickering at me sometimes, but alas, I still love them.

And last but not least- BINGE DRINKING! I have been doing this every weekend, and at the end of the weekend I always swear that I will not drink again until another holiday/celebration/millennium is reached. However, for reasons unbeknownst to me, it never happens. One of my crazy friends calls me and FORCES me to go out and binge drink with them, and I'm always more than willing to oblige. (OK so maybe I'm not FORCED to, by anyways....)

I always end up doing dumb things like this:

and also loving my friends too much like this:

and in the end, look absolutely repulsive like this:

Thanksgiving Eve did not produce such incriminating photos such as these (thank god!), but I did need to create a list of people to apologize to, being that my behavior that night was outrageous and downright unacceptable. Here is a copy of my list, but I would like you all to know that I really don't intend on apologizing to any of these people. I just choose not to grace them, or their fine establishments with my presence anymore. I'm sure that will more then suffice for them.

1. Alexis, for spitting on her shoes

2. Tequila Willies staff for single handily destroying their Christmas decorations

3. To my friend Stan, for spending all of his money

4. To the bartenders and GM of Tequila Willies with whom I relentlessly argued with saying that I spoke to someone who said there were specials there that night, knowing that I only heard that on a machine

5. To the owners of the hole-in-the wall bar we went to. I'm pretty sure I puked all over your bathroom, and I'm also pretty sure I didn't clean it up

6. The staff and occupants of Eat n' Park for my loud obnoxious behavior, my loud obscenities, and the food I threw everywhere

7. To Uncle Steak and your clearly unamused friend for dragging you to Eat n' Park thus forcing you to deal with that whole debacle, sober

Thank goodness the lovely, lovely boyfriend was away with his family for Thanksgiving. He probably would have killed me.

OK well that's my update. I'm off again this weekend to do some more binge drinking, ice skating, and eating (duh!). With all of those aspects combined, hopefully I will have some good material for you to read Monday morning! Have a great weekend everyone!

Growing Up - My Way

2006-08-28T18:58:00.000-04:00

OK, I'll admit it. Yours truly was the typical girlie-girl child. I played with barbies, wore hot pink skirts, and yes, even planned my own dream wedding, complete with invitations and a program with mine and Jonathan Brandis' initials on the front. I thought that marriage was something everyone did, it was "the right thing to do" when you grew up. My mother once told me that I had made a comment to her when I was five years old that you HAD to be married before you had any babies.

My oh my, how things have changed.

Over the weekend, I ran into a girl that I used to go to high school with. I wouldnt call her my freind, but in a school as small as mine was, we had definetely made conversation with each other on more then one occasion. We exchanged the usual polite small talk, asking how each other were and what was new. She told me that she had gotten married a year ago and of course I said "Congratulations!" with a huge, fake smile plastered on my face. This is something you have to do. Girls think weddings are a big deal. I should know, I used to be one of them.

From that point on the whole conversation was about marriage. Who she knew from high school and who they married and if she was in their weddings and who was in hers. I, being the fabulously single woman that I am, could only smile and nod while saying the occasional "Oh really?". Then she said it. I knew it was coming, but I brace myself for it everytime. "So how about you, are you married?" followed with "Is anyone from high school that you know married?" I never knew that marriage was a competition. After that question it seemed that my whole life was overlooked. Not once was I asked how my career was going, and the fact that I was a homeowner went completely unnoticed. The only thing that mattered was if I, or anyone else we knew, had pledged the rest of our lives to someone. At first I was appauled, but soon realized that I once had those very same dreams, and that was OK.

Its not that I dont want to get married, Im actually looking forward to it. But after a bad college break-up, I was able to open up my eyes for the first time. I took off the hot pink skirt, put on my a three piece suit and took a step out into the real world. It was then that I realized my whole dating life had been about someone else, and it scared the shit out of me. I didnt need someone to take care of me, to be there for me, and most importantly I didnt need to be somebody's somebody. It was now time for me to worry about myself, my career, and my social life.

I ended my senior year of college with less than stellar grades, but it was the happiest I had been in years. I wasnt working to impress anyone. I stayed out until 4 am with my sorority sisters, had drinks with my girlfriends after classes (sometimes even before) and had my occasional fling here and there. I never felt so free before, and I didnt want to ever give that up again.

However, things never go according to plan.

I met my current boyfriend the summer when I thought I was going to swear off relationships forever. Something about this guy told me he couldnt be passed up. Thank godness for intuition, it has never been more correct than it was at that moment. It was him that made me realize that I didnt have to change myself to be a part of him. We have actually grown with each other instead of growning apart, and there have been many relationship tests placed before us, and each we have passed with flying colors.

I have watched myself grow within the past two years and have discovered large parts of me that I never knew were there, each more incredible than the last. Even though I cannot wait to walk down that aisle (in a Vera Wang gown no less), I cant help but wonder if there are more parts that are still yet to be found, and I wonder if all of these other "happily married" girls still possess these parts that will always remain undiscovered and untouched.

For this reason I consider myself lucky. Women at work are jealous of my $90 shoes that I can spend so selfishly on myself. My married friends are green with envy because when I stay out until 4 in the morning, it goes unnoticed. Just when I thought I had nothing I found out that I had it all. And becauseof this little bit of extra time that I have selfishly spent on myself, I have a fabulous career, friends, family, and partner.......and when i decide to stroll down that aisle, i know I will have a one helluva fabulous marriage too.

Ex In The City

2006-08-07T11:02:00.000-04:00

OK, so this city has officially gotten too small for me. So its Friday afternoon, I had just gotten off work and Im walking down Smithfield with an extra bounce in my step because I know that now I can officially sleep in for two whole days (woo hoo!) - then it hits me - like a punch in the face. One of THE WORST things that can happen to a girl, can instantly break her from her upbeat, gitty mood and defintely sweep the bounce right out from under her step so she practically trips over it. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I had an ex sighting.

There he was, standing right in front of me on the corner of Oliver and Smithfield. Oh shit. Now mind you, most of my past relationships have ended well. I still keep in contact with most of my ex boyfriends (on a very limited basis of course), but this guy was different. He was from a different phase of my life - the post-college relationship phase were I went out on so many horrible dates I had given up on the male species altogether (more stories on this yet to come). I had to let this guy go not because of his own merit, but because of his friend's. His friend had the most horrifying laugh that I have ever heard. This consternating cackle caused a whole movie theatre of people to stare (out of pure terror I'm sure) at us. It takes alot to get me embarassed, but he managed to do it.....for a whole 2 hours. And folks, this wasnt even a legitimate laugh, this freak was laughing at things that werent even remotely funny. So I decided not to chance it. If this guy had a freak like this as a friend, surely he wasnt a far drive from freakville himself. I never called him again, and now Mr. Horrible Date #3 was standing right in front of me.

I had two choices: Choice #1 - Act my age. Say, "Hello Mr. Horrible Date #3, how are you? How have you been? Seen any good movies lately? (with your freind and his uncontrolable laughter)?" and watch this turn into a horribly awkward conversation where we were both acting so fake towards each other that it could start to make my Gucci knock-off look legite OR Choice #2 - Run.

Readers, I chose Choice #2. I couldnt risk it. I couldnt risk him asking me about my present dating life, couldnt risk him asking me why I never called, and COULD NOT risk him (Gasp!) asking me out on another date. All Mr. Horrible Date #3 saw that Friday afternoon was an "Oh Shit" look plastered on my face and the dust I left behind me after taking off down Smithfield Street. Well OK I didnt actually run, even though it was my true intention. In a final effort to save some face after deciding on Choice #2, i decided that I could not break out into an all out sprint throughout downtown Pittsburgh. If I started to run, he would think that I was the freak, thus defeating my purpose for labeling him in the first place. I may have opted not to run, but I dont think I've ever walked so briskly in my life. I had saved myself from aquiring a one way ticket to freakville, surely paying off my credit card bill couldn't be that far away.

Now Let's Start at the Very Beginning......

2006-08-04T15:37:00.000-04:00

There comes a time in every woman's life when she realizes that however much she loves her parents, she is not able to live with them anymore. That time came for me about a year and a half ago. I graduted from college and moved back home. Ahh it was so good to be home!!....for about the first month. After that the "where are you going", "who are you going out with", "what time will you be home", and the ever popular "I just cant SLEEP until your home safe at night" comments came at me full force. I was stuck. In a mild attempt to salvage a "career" after college (since I graduted with a "would you like fries with that" degree courtesy of the liberal arts college) I bucked up, went back to school, and agreed to be at my parents mercy for 9 months.

I figured that nine months wouldnt be so bad, women go through grueling and tortoreous pregnancies for that long, surely this would be a breeze - right? Wrong. At month #3 I knew I had to get out. But what was I going to do for rent money? (not to mention shoe money) My Panera Bread part-time paycheck couldnt even feed my shopping hunger that I felt had to be satisfied AT LEAST once a week! At month #4, sadly, I realized I had to grin and bear it.

*Disclaimer* Dont get me wrong now, I absolutely LOVE my parents to death and dont know where or who I would be today without them. They have been my rock throughout the past 24 years of my life and I would do ANYTHING for them....except live with them for another year (hehe).

In month #8 my grandfather died. It tore me apart inside, but however hard this ripped at my heart, it was so hard for me to be THAT sad. My grandmother passed away 3 years before him, and you could tell that it was hard for him to go on without her. To me, I was happy with the thought that they would be reunited again and pictured both of them in heaven taking thier daily walks together like they used to do before they got ill. Long before either of their passings, my Ma and Pap had told both my parents and I that they wanted me to have their house when they were gone. (If you knew the history of me and my grandparents this would come as no surprise to you. I am the only child of an only child which made me an only grandchild. If you dont know me, you will at least have an understanding of why I act the way I do (haha)). Both of them did everything for me in life, and now they were doing the same in death. They not only gave me a place to live, but somewhere I could already call home. At last, I was going to move out!!

I wasted no time and after about 16 resumes, a couple of "thanks but no thanks letters", (or as I call them the "we hate your face rejection letters") and 8 phone calls left unreturned, I got my first and only interview. When the day came I put ON my best suit, tookOFF the makeup, and draped myself with a much needed positive attitude. I was going to get this job....hell i HAD to get this job....it was the only way to freedom - my only chance!

After two interviews I landed myself the worst paying and shittiest job I've ever had. But hey, I didnt know that at the time!!! The paycheck was MUCH more than my $6.50/hour check I was used to...this was great - I can get my own apartment now!!!! The next month I found myself a prospective roomate and started budgeting.....hmm not much left after I finished paying all of my bills....but oh well! Now I will be independent! This cant be so bad.

OK it was bad. After my parents had so graciously paid off my outstanding credit card debt as a good parting present, the debt had gone back up to what it was...plus some (OK alot - shit). It was then that I realized how much of a shitty paycheck I was getting. I was not about to go to my parents (who had already paid for a new refrigerator, new kitchen, and new carpet for me..ooops) so what do the finincially insecure do in this situation? Save you say? NO! They go and make more money!!!

Which brings me to where I am now. After THREE interviews I landed a job at a big firm like I always wanted, complete with a human resources department and a fat paycheck. Hopefully now I can stop sponging off my parents, pay off my debts, fix everything I have F'ED up in the past year and finally declare my independence....but I'm not counting on it just yet.