Meg Speak

You know, you never know just how lame you are until you have a crush. It is then that you realize the full extent of your uncoolness. Seeing as I have been out of practice, you know, the whole long-term relationship thing, I have absolutely no clue what to do around semi attractive guys. 3 years ago I was witty, charming and adorable and now I am a blathering idiot and slightly awkward. All of this has been shown to me by someone I will call this fella Fred. Now, I’m a happily taken girl, but as my darling friend has recently reminded me… nothing is permanent until marriage and there’s no harm in looking. Anyway, I haven’t even talked to Fred, but I have been caught staring, so that’s a little embarrassing. Then again, I’m one to randomly stare, so what can I say? Anyway, I believe crushes can be a good thing for girls in long term relationships (as long as they are not acted upon) as it gives you something to dress up for and makes you appreciate the person who puts up with you even though you are clearly lame.

Anyway, Monday was pretty much the crappiest day ever. I found out I got a pretty shitty score on a test I needed to do well on, I was sick and I got a speeding ticket. Not just a speeding ticket, but a life-lesson-humiliating-moment speeding ticket that only I could pull off.

So I’m diving home from my class that ends at 9 p.m. and I’m kind of rushing as I feel like crap, have been at school for 13 hours and have to pee like a mo-fo. I’m stuck behind a real jerk on the freeway who keeps speeding up, slowing down and swerving all over the lane. About the time when I’ve finally had enough, he pulls out of the fast lane and merges into the slow lane. Awesome and all, but my exit is coming up and I also need to get over. Deciding that I no longer want to deal with this guy I speed up to pass him and then merge into the right lane. As I hit my peak speed and merge, a motorcycle flashes its lights at me… uh oh. So I slow down and start counting the seconds until I reach my off ramp. 15… 14… 13… 12… getting so close! 11… 10… Police lights start flashing. Crap! So close! So I pull to the side of the road so very close to my exit and the police officer comes to my passenger side window and says, “I caught you going 81 mph. How fast were you going?” Is this a trick question? If he caught me going 81, than doesn’t he already know the answer to his question? I’m panicking a little, so I choke out “Sir, if you say I was going 81, than I am sure I was going 81.” I’m such a pussy. He then tells me to give him my license, registration and proof of insurance.

Here is where things get a little… uncomfortable for me. I give him my license, which was in my backpack, and reach to get the registration and proof of insurance out of my glove compartment. As I pull the handle, I look up at him with a sweet smile that says “I’m really sorry sir”, and open the compartment only to be bombarded with flying tampons. I’m not sure who attached the springs to the ends of them, but they come bursting out of my glove compartment like candy from a piñata. In seconds my car is littered with these little green bastards and I am stuck sitting there in a shocked silence, my mouth open, and a tampon resting delicately in my hair. WTF? As if this is not mortifying enough, I cannot for the life of me recall what my proof of insurance and registration look like and this cop is just staring at me expectantly. It’s not like I’ve ever had to show these documents to someone before, so being stared down by an enormous, angry male officer was not aiding my search. After a few moments of panicked searching, the officer decides he’s had enough and points out the documents with his flashlight… while doing nothing to mask the annoyance in his voice.

So I sit there for 10 minutes or so and he comes back with a nice ticket for me to sign without showing any bit of pity for the girl covered in tampons. He actually fully demonstrated his dickery by writing my speed as 81 instead of 80, thus ensuring that I would have to pay an additional $100 for being outside of the 15 mph zone. Whatever. At least I am now positive this crap only happens to me. After all, I am the walking example of Murphy’s Law.

Don't I know it!

Sign me up!

Shit, I've forgotten about my weekly 7, you know, the random mildly offensive pictures I saw somewhere on the web and felt inclined to post. Damn! Okay, here are some for you to check out. Doesn anyone even like this? Should I bother? Oh the questions I ponder outloud to no one.

I have the same look on my face just before I drink. O sweet relief.

And do I

I suppose Broom Rape is a dead end, or atleast the end of the line

I've often been caught making this exact same face

I hate when you feel misunderstood...

Bwahahahahahaa... sorry, nothing clever, just a giggle

Somedays nothing goes right... or wrong

I read a book called “Her”, by Laura Zigman, and it spoke to my inner crazy. The back of the book reads:

            “Elise meets Donald on a flight to Washington, D.C., where he teaches and she edits self-help books. He is dreamy: 6’6” with unflinching green eyes and a proclivity for speaking frankly. Incredibly, they fall in love, get engaged, and start discussing wedding invitations.

            And then Elise meets her – Adrienne – Donald’s stunning, leggy ex-fiancée. Adrienne is newly single and planning a move to D.C. Cleavage-baring, half French, and with a degree from Yale, she seduces men with one flick of her hair. Worst of all, she and Donald have remained “good friends” since they broke up. Convinced that Adrienne is out to win Donald back, Elise begins stalking both of them obsessively… and starts adding up clues to what looks like a brazen affair.”

People have one of two opinions on this book:

 

1)      Elise can be so insecure and jealous that the reader guiltily begins to root for Adrienne--at least she's got a little self-respect.

2)      Adrienne is a bitch and deserves to die a thousand deaths. Donald is a jerk for not noticing that his actions added to Elise’s craziness and that perhaps her suspicions were not completely unfounded.

 

As someone who is dating a guy who unintentionally gives off the feeling of cheating (hides where he is going b/c he thinks you might get mad, which in the end you do because he hid where he was going and made it look like he was sneaking around when in reality he was doing something innocent. He really should have just told you to begin with) I side with Elise on this one. She watches Adrienne flirt with Donald, she catches Donald in lies regarding Adrienne, and Adrienne acts like a two faced whore, and because of this Elise becomes more and more insecure. To make matters worse, Donald doesn’t really help relieve these fears, but actually makes them worse, so Elise finds herself becoming an obsessed lunatic. Believe me, I’ve been there. I’ve been to the point where I was so sure something was going on, so I looked and looked only to come up with nothing, which left me feeling shitty and at the same time wishing I had found something so that I my suspicions were actually based on fact. In the end my situation was fixed before I went completely batshit crazy like Elise (Honey, if you don’t want me to think you are having an affair, than please stop acting like you are having one) but I am sure if things hadn’t been fixed I would have been in her shoes 100%.

Anyway, finished the book and I am going to make Matt read it so he understands why sometimes I am crazy. I hope I’m not the only one who identifies with the book, but when your man decides to cook for his ex (when he never cooks for you), sneaks around and acts generally shady, one tends to feel a little insecure. Honestly, I recently got upset that Matt refused to listen to his voicemails around me. Why won’t he listen to them? Does he have something to hide? I know that if I did that he would be super suspicious, so he shouldn’t be that shocked when I call him on it.

Crazy, the boy just called. I gave him a summary of the blog and book and he said that he better read it so he can learn from it. Good boy. Don’t know why I’m blogging about this book, other than I felt like it.

Adios!

Migraines back… let’s hope it goes away sometime soon. I have some major studying to do, but I’m procrastinating like its nobody’s business. I’m putting yesterday behind me otherwise I would do nothing but stew and feel my blood boil until the boy gets home tomorrow. Then I would go ape-shit and I’m not in the mood to do that. Anyway, I’m choosing to just relax and remember how ridiculously annoyed I would be if I was there: underage drinkers, tons of drama and annoying kids. Nothing I would enjoy, but being told that I’m not permitted to go pissed me off.

 

Anyway, I WILL study today. I have so much to go over. I have both a Physiology and Anatomy exam on Wednesday that I need to study for. BAH. Okay, this whole letting it go thing is difficult when you are getting texts from boyfriend. He just doesn’t learn his lesson. Boys, an apology via text message is not an apology, it is a slap in the face. Take the 2 minutes to make a phone call. It will be the difference between coming home to a pissed off girlfriend and a mildly irritated girlfriend. There is nothing that you could be doing that wouldn’t allow you to make a 2 minute phone call. Also, sending a text saying “I really wish things would have turned out differently this weekend” is bullshit when you are the one who keeps making things shit. Want things to turn out differently? Stop being a pansy.

 

Fuck. I was calmed down. Why does he have to get me pissed off again?

 

Okay, mellowing out. Maybe some studying will do me some good.

My anger, frustration and loneliness has all reached its peak... my roommates/ landlords are having sex. They are in their 30s and the man is giggling.

I just threw up in my mouth a little.

I have no where I can go and no one to talk to. I've never felt so grossed out or alone.

I may actually cry.

I’m unhappy. Seriously. So, this weekend was supposed to be about having a good time with my friend Jill. She was supposed to call me at 7 p.m. to let me know when she was leaving, but when I hadn’t heard from her at 8 I knew something was up. So, I texted and it turns out, this weekend is no good for her. Awesome. Now I’m home alone on a long weekend. Why? Well, boyfriend and I were invited to San Diego for boyfriend’s brother’s birthday. Boyfriend went alone as I had plans and we thought he would have more fun without me. Well, now I have no plans and am all alone in my apartment. So I called boyfriend and told him and he basically told me that it sucked to be me. I than asked him if I should come down and he told me no. He’s since given me 3 different reasons why I shouldn’t go.

 

1)      I had a migraine and I shouldn’t travel: Well, yes I did have a migraine, but it didn’t keep boyfriend from having the sex with me or stop him from making me take him to the airport. I’ve since gotten rid of the headache, so that’s no longer a valid reason.

2)      It’s a long trip: So the fuck what? He wanted me to drive from Sac to our place… alone… which is 8 hours, but he doesn’t want me to make a much shorter trip to San Diego? Okay, cuz that makes sense.

3)      He doesn’t want me to drive that far alone. See above. Seriously, no problem for him to tell me to drive 8 hours alone, but making a 2-6 hour trip (depending on traffic) is obsurd.

I don’t care that he doesn’t want me to come, but he should put his damn vagina away and tell me like a man. How about “you know Meg, I know I told you I wanted you to come, but I totally changed my mind and would like to spend a weekend in San Diego belligerently drunk while simultaneously forgetting about my girlfriend.” I would respond to that MUCH better than “uh no… have a good weekend” as a response to “should I just come down after all?” followed by several text messages with various reasons I shouldn’t come – none of which are the real ones. Whatever. I’m just pissed I got fucked by both my best friend and my boyfriend. He’s fucking lucky we’ve been together for 3 years otherwise I would leave his ass for being a dick… but whatever. He will pay for it when he gets back by making it up to me. He’s already on various other shit lists, might as well be added to this one.

FUCK. I hate flakes and I hate liars. Why is it everyone pulls through when they need something from you (Jill who needed to crash on my couch this week for an interview, but couldn’t be bothered to come down to hang out) and Matt (who just fucking sucks in general today) but when it comes time to stepping up, they’re nowhere to be found? I hate you guys today.

Note to boyfriend: when you live with your girlfriend, which you do, it’s not smart to piss her off when she’s left unattended with all of your favorite things. Especially if you plan on spending the weekend shit faced and will definitely forget to call her, which you often do. Oh, no, wait… you will call, but when you are drunk you are an insensitive prick with no sensor. I can’t wait to hear “oh there was this hot girl who got totally drunk and went skinny dipping. She was Asian. I used to date an Asian. And an Indian. Which is hotter: Asians or Indians?” I’m white you fuck. Next time you do that I’m going to start with my exes… “Hey Matt, who is sexier? The sculpted black man with blue eyes that I dated or the ripped firefighter that I dated? Oh, right, you’re a thin, white geeky guy… well, what about the pilot I dated? He was sexy… and blonde. Oh, right, you’re a brunette. Oh well…” Jerk

I swear I do like my boyfriend a lot… just not when I’m having a bad day, my best friend shits on me and he’s being a dick. Those days (today) I hate everyone.

 

Ah, the ever popular political questions… Well, to be honest with you, until last night I had no intention of voting in the presidential election. I didn’t feel very strongly about any candidate, but last night I read something that changed my mind. I found this article online about how the whole world is watching us and weighing in on who should be president. England likes Hilary as they loved her husband, Germany adores Obama calling him “the black JFK” and Japan likes both Hilary and Obama. It got me thinking that the world is watching us and they want to have faith in us, so we need to show that we’re worth believing in. I’ll vote this year, though I’m still not sure who I would vote for as I have reservations about each candidate. As I feel the race is primarily between Obama and Clinton, I’ll keep to them.

Clinton – My problem with Hilary is that she seems like she is putting on a show. She’s watched all of this from the 1^st Lady seat, which required her to stand silently and smile. I feel like her whole campaign is a personal vendetta. She seems to burn as many bridges as she crosses and seems to be a real bitch. Though I am all for bitchy women, they shouldn’t be involved in politics. Think of it like this: how would she deal with Japan? Are Japanese women loud, bitchy and crass? No? Can you visualize her being coutious? I can’t. I would love a female president, but I think she should be more like Lucy Lou in Kill Bill; powerful in a quieter way. Yeah, she chopped off a guy’s head, but hey, she didn’t try to get down and dirty with men before hand. Hmmm.. not sure I am really sayin what I mean. Well, I guess she should act like a woman instead of trying to have pissing contests with men. Guess what? Women and smarter than men. Use your brains Hilary, don’t try to grow a penis. I hate that I see her trying to play the “political game” and try to sling mud and what not at Obama as it makes her look like a total bitch. There are smarter ways to play the game. Also, if you are voting for Clinton because you loved Bill, well, don’t. I’m guessing she won’t be taking any political advice from him, which is why he was very personable and she’s… not.

Obama – I think there is a lot of controversy regarding Obama. It seems that there is a bi-weekly email circulating that he’s a Muslim who went to a radical muslim anti-america school, a racist who goes to a "blacks only" church, or something… and it’s annoying. He seems like a generally nice guy, but then again, anyone looks good compared to Hillary.

I hate politics! And I also hate that I’ve had to rewrite this whole post as my comp got a virus and boyfriend had to wipe my hard drive. Sorry this is half hearted, but here it is. Obama wins over Hillary. Truth is, I can’t think of anything bad to say about him.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080201/ap_on_el_pr/campaign_watching_world;_ylt=AgdZM811l6Ru0u_DmMdKL9.s0NUE

 

So, on a whim, I decided to try out for my school’s Chamber Singers. I sang 1^st soprano in high school and soprano/ 1^st soprano in college a few years ago, which incidentally was the last time I exercised my upper range… you know, with the exception of singing along with Kelly Clarkson. Anyway, so I go in and quickly realize that I’ve forgotten how to sight read and that my upper range is really, really sad, but then again, so is my lower range. I should have warmed up prior to the audition, but I had no time.

 

So the audition ends and he tells me that I have a good ear and pitch, but that I should perhaps join the “College Choir and a Church Choir”. He then tells me several churches, including his, that have choirs. WTF? I’m not good enough for college, but I’m good enough for God? Anyway, I leave feeling deflated and with a slightly bruised ego. Then I find out that I tried out for THE choir on my campus. You know, the one where only music majors join because they want nothing to do with beginners. Mistake has been made and realized. Never again.

 

Anyway, he says that he’ll post the results and that I should check back in, but I’m pretty damn sure that there is no way I’ll ever be in this choir and I’m not sure I would want to be in it anyway, thank you very much! So this morning I look at the door with the posted list and look under 1^st Soprano… nope, not there. So I look under Soprano… nope, not there either. Oh well, good try, too bad. Wait. What the deuce? I’m under the alto section. HUH? I’ve never in my life sung alto. As a soprano, I was an icing kind of girl. I was the top layer that had to be delicately placed in order to maintain the integrity of the cake. As a first, I floated above the music like a soft but ominous mist. I’m not the damn cake! Why am I cake? I can’t even sight read and he put me in the cake position. This could be bad. I don’t think I can even hit all the damn alto notes. Frick… choir’s supposed to be fun! What’s this alto business? Altos have to work!!! Where the hell is the alto line anyway?

 

Oh well, I sang too loud to be a soprano anyway.

 

Altos, brace yourself.

First off, Natalie, I have my political summary for you almost completely done, but honestly, my brain is fried. I'll finish it soon, I promise.

Moving on - I'm drunk. Thought you should know. Matt and I had a productive day that included deep cleaning our place for several hours. I then made dinner, which was marvelous, if I do say so myself. Read a book, drank a little... or a lot, for me anyways. Matt and I drank beer for beer, but he swears he's had more as his where higher alcohol content (ya right) but I'm much smaller, so I think I won. MOVING ON

Just a thought: do small boobed girls know how good they have it? My gargantuem boobs are always in my. They're heavy, they are warm and aparently they will give me a higher chance to get diabetes. Awesome. Buying bras is a joke as Victoria's Secret doesn't carry my size, so I have to order offline and hope they fit, which they usually don't. AND if they do have my size, it is the ugliest bra known to man. What is with that? As if I don't already feel like a freak having these giant man magnets, I'm also wearing an ugly ass bra and it doesn't quite fit right. And, small boob girls, you know what it feels like to not wear a bra in public. I have no idea. I've been wearing a bra since 5th grade. I hate you.

Bah... brain has gone swirly.. must go.