A Funny Thing Happened the Other Day...

To someone, I'm sure. Just not to me. That's why I have not written for over a month. Really, don't you think it's such a great excuse? As we all know, I think I am abso-bloomin'-lutely hilarious, and so when I don't feel I have something funny to write, I don't write.

Also, I am lazy.

On a side note, I don't have a major, I'm basically done with generals, and I'm trying to register for fall classes. Can we say trapped in a corner?

Any suggestions on fun classes would be much appreciated so I could get out of this corner. It's making me clostrophobic. Hmm...you know what would be even more appreciated? If you could tell me what I like and what I want to do, and what I would end up not hating. I would give you my iPod, my laptop, $1,000 and my favorite shirt if you could do this for me. The problem with that incentive for myself is that I already have it. maybe if I didn't have that stuff, and I knew that I could if I made a decision, it would work.

Who wants to steal my stuff and give it back when I have figured things out?

Just kidding, don't do it. I would die without my laptop and my favorite shirt. Not to mention that the thousand bucks that has to go toward tuition if I finally find some classes to take.

Well, now that I've exhausted that side note, lets get back to how funny I am...

To Borrow a Title from a Fellow Blogger: Various and Sundry Thoughts for a Monday

I was just reading though some of my previous posts, and while the typos and bad grammar make me wince, sometimes I think I am kind of funny. But then I wonder if anyone else thinks I have potential for amusement, and I get embarrassed for being so amused by myself. Am I wrong, though, to think that I am hilarious when I write about my future spouse and what a dork I was as a kid? (is there any need to remark on the remaining dorkiness? I think it's self explanatory). Perhaps it is wrong, but I still think I'm funny. And so do these guys.


Another item I was thinking about on this Monday night is why I blog when I have the most to do. I mean, it's not like there aren't other ways to procrastinate--for instance, cutting split ends for an hour or two, looking up all the movies I would like to rent in the next year, taking online quizzes...You get the picture. Maybe I blog because I feel like it is somewhat productive? I have really been wanting to move that dog down with a new post for a while. What do you think?

I always feel slightly awkward when I eat alone at an establishment of food, and I think I would feel awkward going to a movie alone (it hasn't happened yet). Why is this? Don't get me wrong here, I love, love having a ball with friends or the fam, but sometimes I also really love to be alone. So what's different about going to lunch/movies, etc., than going shopping and on other errands, or watching movies at home? Is it because I am acclimatized to think of those things as something you do for fun with people?

I've realized that my various and sundry thoughts are mostly questions I am putting out there into the void. So here's another: why does it break your heart when you have a secret crush on someone but have only talked to them a handful of times, and you see them hugging some snotty girl? I guess I should say "my heart" as I don't know if it breaks your heart. It's never broken my heart before today. What changed?

Another question I have for the mysterious place that is the world wide web, is this: why is it that when I am at work and finally decide to quit reading blogs and generally wasting time on the internet to get some homework done as long as the orders aren't pouring in, the orders start pouring in? I have seriously tested this. On the nights when I decide to forgo the homework altogether and just keep on keeping on, the orders never seem to come. But the moment I crack open a book, the next time I look, an order has appeared. Dagnabit.

And another thing. Why can't people just let other people hate the snow? We know that it is useful moisture, it looks pretty, is a blessing, and all that jazz. But it doesn't change the fact that I hate it and want it to be spring.

Finally, I think that the last name "Dowdy" is kind of funny.

Monica, Here's to You on Your Birthday

I Hope it's the best ever.

And, incase that dog scared the beans out of you, here's a more cheerful picture:

So, yeah...HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

It Really Rocks

As Spring will soon be upon us, I was thinking a little Christmas spirit might be in order while it is still slightly wintery out. Okay, just kidding, I really only want you to listen to this because I think it's abso-bloomin-lutely hilar. So please visit this man's blog and have a listen. Wait for the big finish, it's my favorite part.

Now That's a Sweet Ride!

I wasn't going to post about this. I really wasn't. But currently I am going A.D.D. beyond control at work from studying HEPE for far too long (about 45 minutes, but no one needs to know that). That is why I am posting about a dream. And though it can never be as hilarious to you as it was to me when I first woke up and laughed out loud, I hope it brings you some entertainment. It's the only blog fodder I've got.

The whole fiasco began when I was going to be late for work and realized that my car was out of comission. Dead battery and all that, with no Dad to help me out, and no possible ride-giver on the premises. I walked outside scratching my head and wondering what to do and see that oh, blast, the llamas are out again. But then my resourceful nature kicks in and the escaped llamas came to be more than just a nusance. Holy crap! I thought, I could ride a llama to work! Brilliant, I know.

I walked cautiously toward a friendly looking llama, who obligingly knelt down to allow me climb aboard. We became instant best friends, and I knew this llama would be loyal to me for life. It was a sweet, sweet feeling. What was even better was the ride. I cannot express to you what a joy it was. The overpass on state street was the highlight of the trip. We were going almost as fast as the cars, and it was awesome!

Needless to say, I got to work on time thanks to my noble steed, and I went in very satisfied with myself. I realized during my shift that I needed to go home for dinner, so I ran outside where my car was somehow waiting for me, as was the llama. I drove the car home and forgot about the llama entirely.

Back at the ranch I went inside and talked to my brother and played with his kids, and then suddenly realized that I had to go back to work ten minutes ago. D'oh! So I gathered up a whole pizza in my arms (no, getting a plastic bag or other container did not occur to me at the time) and ran outside to get back on my best friend, the llama. I was glad to see that he had made it home alright, and even more overjoyed at the fact that he was waiting on my porch for me. You know, up the flight of cement stairs and all. He was looking fondly at my face much like this:

It was beautiful to behold.

But then all was spoiled when this old lady started screaming at me about how I was an awful person to be training her llamas bad things. All her llamas somehow kept ending up in East Bay and it was all my fault.

"But my car was broken," I stuttered, "I had to ride the llama, I was going to be late for work! I'm going to be late for work again if you don't let me take him." In my head I was thinking, Can't you see how he loves me?

I don't think this woman properly understood the direness of the situation, though, because she absolutely would not allow me to come near her llamas ever again.

In the end, I asked my brother Kurt to give me a ride to work, and it all seemed to work out okay. But I'm still confused as to what happened to my car after I had driven it home. Ah, well, I guess we'll never know.

All I know is that I will never forget riding down State Street on a llama without a care in the world. It's not weird at all.

A Pink Moon and a Nice Car

Remember when Nick Drake's Pink Moon was on the commercial for the VW Cabriolet? It showed some happy youths driving under a night sky. I have to admit that it gave me a warm fuzzy feeling every time, and had an odd power over me. It influenced me to the extent of buying Nick Drake's Album Place to Be. I'm also pretty sure that if I had had the means, and a drivers license, I would have picked up this excellent car in a heartbeat because of that commercial. Now that's the power of good advertising.

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock: Radio Edit Version

I must admit, this post really has nothing to do with T.S. Elliot, and I bet you are all heartily disappointed. The title just came to me in the middle of the night, and I couldn't resist. As we are all well aware, I am too illiterate to create a post that can live up to such a title and I apologize. When I was musing on the subject in the middle of the night, I thought I was so very clever, "ha ha ha," thought I to myself, "I will write the so called "radio edit" of this wonderful poem and everyone will think that I am so witty and clever." However, upon awakening the next morning, I remembered that I have a rather small alotment of literary skill and that it was too vast an undertaking for one such as I. But, it is a choice poem, and I highly recomend that you check it out. But before I say adieu, I must force a few of my favorite lines upon you because my guess is that you are too lazy to read the entirety in its length. (Does it shock you how well I know you?)

And indeed there will be time

To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”

Time to turn back and descend the stair,

With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—

[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]

My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,

My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—

[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]

Do I dare

Disturb the universe?

In a minute there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.


For I have known them all already, known them all:—

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;

I know the voices dying with a dying fall

Beneath the music from a farther room.

So how should I presume?

I just love that "I have measured out my life with coffee spoons" and my guess is that you know me well enough to surmise that I am not one to undervalue baldspots.

As my parting gift to you, I will let you know that when I grow old, I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Don't you just love the English language?

Yeah, He's Gotta Be Hot

With the fast approaching nuptials of my two dear sisters, I have had marriage on the brain, I guess. It's a big step, and a very important decision, this I know. So, after Bro. what's-his-name told us about his daughters making lists of the qualities they wanted in their future spouses, I decided to do just that. The following is a comprehensive list of the must-have traits of my future husband.

1. First, I need someone who gets me...a pretty hard task to accomplish as I don't even get me. Even so, it's essential.

2. Next, I really need someone with good dental hygene. It's just a must.

3. We all know the importance of interest compatibilities, so obviously I will need to marry someone who blogs.

4. Another thing that I require in my future spouse is man hands. I know that I shouldn't begrudge people the look of their hands, as they can't really help it, but guys with women hands just give me the willies.

5. I also need someone that will buy me Dance Dance Revolution and let me win on a regular basis. He's gotta have moves, but not let on that he does. you know?

6. He must also be almost attractive as the fine specimin below. Hard to accomplish, I know, but a girls got to have standards, and this is mine.



7. I think that another essential part of maintaining a good relationship is sharing things. My future husband better be very generous, becuase by sharing things, I mean giving me things.

8.Any husband of mine has got to have a prestigious job. For instance, he could be a toy tester, or work for Crest Toothpaste, Covenant publishing, or something like that. I'm not going to marry a nobody!

Yep, I think that about covers it.

You think I'm asking a lot, don't you? Well, that may be the case, but I just know there's someone out there that's up to scratch and meant just for me. I know it.

I Love Lappytops!

I Resolve

...not to do any of these things. New Years resolutions. psh.

Your New Year's Resolutions

1) Get a pet rock 2) Eat less tuna 3) Travel to Italy 4) Study marine biology 5) Get in shape with disco dancing

What Should Your New Year's Resoluton Be?

Happy Birthday Megalicious!

blogging tag ends here

So, I'm supposed to tell you five things no one knows about me and tag five others in the blogging world. However, I don't know anyone else in the blogging world well enough to tag them, so the game ends here. I'll just tell you my five pahtetic secrets and be done with it.

Secret #1: When I was little, the thing I wanted the most in the world was an awesome jeep pow-pow-powerwheels and a my size barbie to ride in it with me. Alas, my dreams were never realized, on either count.

Secret #2: Also when I was younger I thought that Power Rangers were stupid and "soooo dumb," or so I told everyone. In fact, when I told my sister I was going outside to play instead of watching such a dumb show, I would actually watch from outside the basement window to see what foes were wating to be totally rocked by those awesome Power Rangers. Please don't tell.

Secret #3: some people are probably aware of this, but until the age of 10 I refused to wear jeans because they were uncomfortable. You guessed it, instead I wore stetch pants and sweatsuits with cats and bears on the shirts. I have realized the error of my ways and have vowed that if I am ever a mother of an anti-denim child, I will refuse to buy them ugly sweats and force them to do something they hate. They'll thank me for it when they get older.

Secret #4: Once in middle school Nikki and I didn't want to go to one of those stupid dances, so we had Nikki's mom come and pick us up. When she checked us out of the office she said that we had appointments. Psh, the only appointment we had was with a movie in the basement. I felt so rebelious, and that led to a long line of skipping class in high school whenever possible and having my mother write excuse notes. Ah....those were the days.

Secret #5: I will do anything in my power to get out of babysitting. That is all.

where are your social graces?

Today was not by any means the first time I realized that I am completely lacking in the area of social graces. On the contrary, I muse over it nearly every day. Today was just the first time that I had thought to use the term "social graces." This came about because of one of the awkward situations that I seem to encounter far more often than I should.

I was walking across campus after my film lab today and the girl in front of me dropped her Jamba Juice, which promptly exploded. As she let out a pitifully disappointed, "oohh," I just stepped past with a pitying smile on my face thinking, geez, that's gotta suck. A few steps later I thought to myself, where are your social graces? Why didn't you do something? But then I got thinking about it, and really, what could I have done? It's not like I could have helped her pick anything up, it was gone for good. Should I have offered some condolences? Made a lighthearted joke to ease the pain of her tragic loss? Offered to help her clean it up? I just don't know.

You see, my complete lack of even knowing what I should have done just goes to prove that I really don't have a any social graces. They just seem to elude me when I need them most. What's a girl to do?

Here Goes Nothing

As the blogging world has indeed run amok, I decided to take the following admonition of my pals to heart: "Blog about anything and everything. dumb or funny. retarded or serious. anything." So here comes my something, with a little disclaimer that it will indeed be boring and pathetic. Please stop reading now if you do not want to hear a tedious tale of woe.


I'm telling you, you really might want to get out while you still can. I must emphasize, this is a post about my day. Really. Not interesting.


It all started a bit after seven with my alarm going off to the sweet sounds of Chunga and Mister and some "really stupid news!" As always, I lack the will power to get out of bed and so whap the snooze button and snuggle in for a blissful seven minutes. Of course, I do this until 7:30, which is when I need to leave to get the prime parking spot on 8th north that is only about 20 flights of stairs away from my Anthropology class. As I wake up at this time nearly every day, I have the routine down pat. First, throw on jeans and a hoodie, then brush teeth while putting greasy hair in a ponytail. Grab keys, stuff books in bag, and leave. This took me a good 6 minutes, but don't worry, my car was miraculously free of ice, so I still got an acceptable parking space.

After walking up the steps at a leisurely pace, I get to class a little bit early for about the fourth time in a row. Pretty impressive. Then I sit through lecture and move on to biology class, where I succeeded in staying awake the whole time for about the sixth time. This is only thanks to Debbie, who jabs me each time my eyelids flutter shut.

Next, I share the most enjoyable hour of the day with the pals upstairs in the Wilk, eating bagels and cupcakes, and laughing over funny things. Things like badgers. You know, they are just funny animals. After our carefree hour of fun, we all trudge toward another day of Book of Mormon and sit in silence so as to not spread animosity. After that joy of a class I head to my film lab to watch clips of genre film. All I can say is that everyone must see the B horror film entitled Them. You guessed it, the "them" of the title is indeed referring to gigantic killer ants. What a winner of a film!
After class I get to go home and miraculously don't have to stop at a single cross walk for my fellow zoobies. Once in the safe haven of my 63 degree house I consider getting ready for the day, but ultimately decide against it. "Nah." I thought, "It's 2:00, the day is already half gone, and the only other people who will see me today will be the 4 people I pass going into work and walking to my lonely corner." Little did I know at this point that today is the day that I got to have my picture taken to be posted on a gigantic screen during the trainings of new photomax employees. Great. It's okay, though, because the guy that took my picture said I was "cute" in the photo. What a bold-faced lie that was. But, as I don't like to dwell on such things, we'll move on to the remainder of my truly enthralling day.

Instead of making myself presentable, I decided to look for some lunch, but then realized I was too lazy. Instead, I decided to eat a peice of bread and watch All About Eve for my film class, since I had to return soon. All in all, it was an enjoyable film, if a little long. 138 minutes, to be precise. I looked at the clock at the end of the film and realized I had approximately 2 minutes before I had to leave for work. I grabbed some nasty yogurt for my dinner and ran out the door. Needless to say, I got here in one peice, did some work until I didn't have any to do. Did some homework until I couldn't handle it anymore. Played around online for a while. It was then that I was guilted into writing a post. I hope you don't regret it too much.

shuffling through leaves

I realized today that walking out to my car after class is my favorite time of day. I get to saunter and shuffle, and notice the sky, the trees, and yes, enjoy crunching the dead leaves under my feet. (As long as they are indeed leaves--you know what I'm talking about, Nik and Deb.) Other times, it seems I am always in a hurry, running up the stairs to get to Anthropology almost on time, or hurrying so I have more time to veg out with the friends between classes. The walk by myself is the one time of day I have to just think. I try really hard to not think of the things I need to do that day, but rather to think about the simple things in life, like how I should notice nature more often than my once daily walk to the car. And also about how life isn't really so bad, at least not quite the "butt" I'm always saying that it is. Almost, but not quite. So take heart, my friends. Take walks on lovely cool, crisp fall days, and remember, life's not a butt.

not so silent camaraderie

The awkward silent camaraderie with the security guard morphed last night into an awkward conversation. This is basically how it went:

I walk out into the lobby and the security guard gets up from his desk to follow me outside.

"Long day, eh?" He asks.

I think, Goodness, I knew I looked crappy and tired, but I didn't think it was that bad. Then I say, "Yeah, it has been a long day." (I had gone in early, mind you.)

Awkward silence as we walk outside.

"Have a good night," I say.

"Wha?" he asks.

"Have a good night."

"Oh, you too."

And he watches while I walk into the darkness and out of his life forever.
End Scene.

Panderers

Well, I just watched the trailer for the new Kiera Knightly version of Pride and Prejudice. I was mildly offended. First, let me just get out into the open that while I am not a KK lover, I am also not filled with the burning hate and loathing for her that I know some of you have. Be that as it may, I still think the movie comes from a bunch of panderers, catering to the public desire to see onscrean kissing. As you may know, more kissing involves huge departures from the novel we have all grown to love. However, as the A&E version cannot be topped in any aspect, but more specifically in the department of being true to the novel, the departures will be considerably more tollerable. However,why they even decided to make this movie when it has been done, and done well already, is beyond me.

In conclusion, I plan to see the film soon after it comes out with my free movie tickets.

Something to Blog About

NOT! All I want to say is that it brings warmth to my heart to have protection against being molested in the parking lot. Yes, I do indeed get warm fuzzies every night when I leave the "cheerful" comfort of work and venture into the cold, dark parking lot, and this is because the security guard follows me out and watches until I am safely locked in the car with the psycho killer hiding in the back seat. I mean...safely in the car and out of harm's way. Because that Harm, his way can be pretty malevolent, let me tell you.

Well, I must go now to undergo the nightly ritual of the awkward, but secure and protective silent comraderie that I always have with the trusty security guard. Safe walking to all, and to all a good night.

oh, the shame

I just read Becca's comment on Ali's blog congratulating her for posting something rather than not posting. Yes, this comment has indeed shamed me into writing my own, brief, something post. However, unlike Ali, I don't anything to say or tell.

About the only exciting thing in my life right now is that I have a class with half of the girls soccer team. Weird. They're all from Sandy. Weird. In conclusion, my life is chock full of excitement, but at least you had a bit of a surprise when you saw something actually posted here. yipee.

Not Here Yet

Sunday dinner is always an adventure at my house, but especially so when there is reason to celebrate and everyone comes and brings their dog, too. Such an event was in full swing last Sunday as we celebrated my brother's birthday. Somewhere in the midst of the fun, my sister, who is pregnant and due in about three weeks, and her husband snuck in. When some of my neices and nephew saw her husband they swarmed around him in excitement. They just love their unlce Kevin. But actually, they were just excitedly asking where Aunt Megan was. Feeling slightly rejected, Kevin, always the funny one, replied that she wasn't there, but that the baby was upstairs. Frenzy ensued.

"She had the baby!?" shrieked my neice, Adria. I think there even may have been a shout of "What the heck!?" from one of the kids as they sprinted to the stairs to see the wee boy. Their bubbles were swiftly burst when what they found upstairs was Megan with her belly still very much full of baby.

I found this episode to be slightly amusing, but what was even better came about ten minutes later. I was going to my room for a bit of respite and relaxation, not to mention a hidden candybar, and I found my four-year-old nephew, Bryce, peeking quietly through the door.

"Whacha' doin, Bryce?" I asked.

He looked at me inquisitively for a moment then asked, "But where's that baby?"

"What baby?"

"That baby that just came outa Megan."

It was then that I had to inform him of the cruel truth that his cousin had not, as yet, "come out of Megan." He was, of course, slightly crushed. Yet, he soon cheered up with the prospects of seeing the baby in the near future. As I explained it to him, his big green eyes brightened under his mass of curly hair and he was soon grinning up at me with visions of becoming best friends with his new cousin dancing through his head. He then trotted, unfazed, down the hall to get some icecream, soon to forget that anything but the sweet coldness of his vanilla icecream existed.