Meg Speak

All guys lie... not just 34%

Mommy, I want to be a Klan member for Holloween!

Heads or tails?

Sad truth, I may party when you die

Honesty in advertising... go figure

Bitch so has my bathing suit!

I’ve been feeling less than inspired to write, so here are two letters to two sexy men who torment my pants:

Dear Mr. Jones,

Please stop it already with the unbuttoned shirt. I mean really, today you had not one, but two, maybe three buttons undone. How is a girl supposed to focus? It’s not enough that you’re ridiculously good looking, nice, funny and can sing, but do you really have to show me your chest to? How can a girl sing when faced with sexy man-chest? My voice isn’t the only thing quivering if-ya-know-what-I-mean. Anyway, if you keep up to unbuttoning you’re going to end up topless, perhaps even naked, and I am unsure if I would be able to contain myself. You have a hot wife and 3 adorable children. I wouldn’t want to have to fuck you in half or anything. Your family needs you. Think about it.

Meg

 

Dear Fred,

Listen, we have 3 problems we need to work out right here and now. First, stop ignoring me until you need something. That only works if I think there is a chance of me getting some, so seeing as how I’m not, it’s annoying. Stringing girls along only works if there is incentive to be strung. Second, the shoes you wore today made me temporarily go blind. Throw those damn shoes away. Believe me, no homeless man would want them, so just toss ‘em. Are they girl’s shoes? They look a little like they were once attached to the feet of a little girl, so there is no reason a sexy man specimen like yourself should be wearing turquoise suede shoes circa 1990. Ick. Toss them now or I will be forced to vomit on them the next time they make an appearance. Lastly, I know I got sunburned today. It was extremely unfortunate as I was only out there for a few minutes, but I’m a fair skinned girl, so it’s par for the pigment. You know you’re a sexy devil, so putting your cold hand on my chest to “check my temperature” was just cruel you beast. And then, to top it off, you left with Mr. Jones leaving my imagination to run wild. Want to see how hot I really am? Oh, you don’t? What? I didn't say "threesome"! Oh, you asked if I would hand you that pencil? My mistake.

I think I just slobbered a little,

Meg

 

            These do not sound exciting to me one bit. I suppose they could become interesting jobs and all, but I was helping as a legal assistant at 19 and a high school graduate. Now I know I was doing a job that required a degree. That’s kind of depressing. Maybe I’ll be a PI. I’m sneaky… it could work.

            What do you think? I’m pretty sure no one would actually pay to read this crap, so I’m thinking Journalism isn’t the best bet. Also, with V-logs and Blogs on the rise, isn’t the need for print writers decreasing? Where do journalists fit in?

PS: The bat was still there the next day… but face down on the ground. Poor thing died and now I feel sad for it. It disappeared though, so I have no idea what happened to its body. Did it pull a Jesus and resurrect? Did someone steal it? I suppose I’ll never know.

I learned a valuable lesson today. Be careful what you say and to whom you say it. What started off as a fun discussion with my counselor about the toe socks someone gave her and how she thought of me when she received them, went terribly wrong somewhere and almost ended with me in an involuntary 72 hour lockdown. I’m not exactly sure how we got there, but I know at one point she asked me to rate, on a scale of 1 to 10, how depressed I am. I asked her if she meant today or in general and she asked for today. I responded that I was about a 6. Now, here is where she and I differ. I hear “6” and I personally don’t think it’s all that bad. She hears it and believes that I am suicidal. (I remember how we got here. I was telling her how annoying it was that I was not sleeping and she looked at my chart from September and noted that I had marked “restlessness”, “difficulty sleeping” and “rarely feeling refreshed” on my chart… along with “depression” and “anxiety”. This is where it all began…) It’s not like I could possibly be a 1. I’m not really sleeping, my relationship with my boyfriend is currently not-so-good, I’m not doing well in my classes and I’ll forever carry around the pain I’ve experienced the past 22 years. No matter how happy I am, that will never be erased. Anyway, she let me go without placing the phone call if I promised not to harm myself in anyway. Sheesh. I’m not looking forward to our session on Wednesday.

In other news, I have this amazingly sexy professor who I get to see 3 times a week. Very lucky me. Anyway, “Mr. Jones” came into class today and my jaw dropped to the floor. Not only is this man hot, but he’s well groomed and often dresses in a suit, which he looks amazing in. So, he comes in today looking especially gorgeous and I notice something different. He has the top two buttons of his dress shirt undone revealing the slightest bit of sexy man chest. This is when I turn to Kate. “Kate! Kate, look at Jones. Check out his top button…” She turns and looks over at him and her eyes bug out of her head. “He’s practically naked,” I whisper at her enthusiastically while trying not to drool. It is at this time that Kate reminds me that it is not 1808 and that two undone buttons does not public nudity make. Maybe not in her mind…

So, Kate’s depressed that the guy she’s been crushing over turned out to be gay,

er… excuse me, “sleeps with men sometimes”, which I could have told you the minute I saw him. In fact, I’m pretty sure I told Kate I was 92% sure that he was into men when she told me he dragged her to see Step Up 2. Seriously, at that moment he could have been gagging on another man and poor Kate wouldn’t have known. She’s innocent and blinded by love. I don’t blame her for not seeing it. It’s been my job to help her get over it, so anytime I see her getting the glazed over look I try to snap her out of it by describing a potential gay sex scene for her, which seems to do the trick. As a result I now picture raunchy sex scenes anytime I hear his name. I’m not exactly sure this is a bad thing. Oh well, I suppose I’ve taken to corrupting poor Kate as it turned out the Fred was unavailable for corrupting. That totally ruined my good time. It’s actually quite frightening how quickly I got over that, which leads me to believe I wasn’t all that into him to begin with. After all, my obsession with Fred began with a conversation with a girl named Mia as we tried to pick out the hottest choir boys. I picked him and things ended up snowballing. I’m over it now, but it was fun for the week it lasted.

In other news, I’m thinking of writing a book. I have the beginnings of two or three already, but I get antsy and impatient so I never get past a few pages/ chapters. I’m torn between a comedy/tell-all regarding my love of serial dating and the antics I’ve gotten into (tentative title being I Only Dated You for Your Sweater: the Secret Life of a Serial Dater) or a book about a serial killer. Totally different topics, but both would be fun for me to write.

Moving on! Matt’s World of Warcraft character turned level 70 on Saturday. To celebrate Matt played for 9 hours straight the following day. Got to love a man who is committed. Actually, I didn’t really mind. I took Kate out shopping on Sunday, which was inspired but a mini makeover I gave her Thursday night. It’s cool to see someone so excited. I mucho enjoyed. Plus, it got me out of the house, which probably saved my relationship. Kudos to Kate.

Oh! I made Guinness stew for St. Patrick’s Day. It was quite yummy, but not nearly as good as traditional Irish stew. Matt bugged the entire time with “I’m hungry” and “is it ready yet?” He does it because he thinks it’s cute. He is mistaken. When it came down to it he ate half a bowl of soup and was full. Pain in my ass.

Holy crap, random thought: I pulled into my parking spot at my apartment complex when I saw this big brown blob thing on the pillar holding the carport up. In the back of my mind I thought “hmmm… that looked like a bat!” but I quickly dismissed it as I live in sunny CA and the blob was in a very bright area. I should really listen to myself more often. It was a fucking bat. He was just chilling out 2 feet from my car. I was terrified to get out of the car in fear that I would somehow wake it up and end up with a scene from The Great Outdoors. If you are unaware of the scene I am speaking of than you really need to rent that movie. I’ll wait as you add it to your Netflix queue. Ready? Ok. I ended up sitting in my car for a few minutes weighing my options. Either I would get out of the car and the bat would remain asleep or I would revisit the parrot attack, this time with a bat. I don’t think I could handle some random bat flapping around in my hair. That would be pretty traumatic. Anyway, I ballsed up and got out of my car. The damn thing twitched a little but didn’t move from its happy resting place. God I hope it’s not there in the morning.

I overreacted. I admit it. I'm just so damn tired, school is going horribly and I almost got committed yesterday. >.<
More on that later.

Sorry I went slightly nuts

I fucking hate Matt today. On my way home from class I called him to see if he wanted me to bring pick him up for dinner and got no answer. This bummed me out a little, but I got over it. So I come home and he’s in the kitchen doing dishes, I grab a glass of water (plastic cup so as not to dirty a dish) and head to the bedroom to put my stuff down and check my email. He comes in and I ask him if something is wrong because he seems annoyed and he assures me he isn’t. He comes in a second time and trips over a shoe and it is then that I can see that something is clearly wrong, so I ask him what it is, which turned out to be a mistake. He turned to me and starts chastising me that I never clean the house and never thank him for doing the dishes. I totally would understand his frustration, if it wasn’t irrationally unfounded. First off, I’m usually at school when he decides he wants the dishes done, so when I get home he expects me to suck his dick in appreciation the moment I walk in the door, but typically I don’t go into the kitchen for a few hours, if at all, so I have no idea the dishes have been done. Within an hour he’ll tell me he did the dishes and pat himself on the back so much that it’s the last thing I want to do. Also there’s a small factor he forgot to throw in. He is at school 16 hours a week, rarely studies and has no job. I’m at school 44 hours a week. I spend more time at school than I would at a full time job, so I may be a little hesitant to walk in the door and begin cleaning. Especially if I know he’s been playing World of Warcraft for the past 6 hours. So ya, maybe I’m not doing enough around the house, but his free time is twice what mine is. When I pointed out that he plays WoW more than he responded by saying “so you have as much time as I do to clean”. Um… no. World of Warcraft is a fucking game. It’s a game that you spend more time playing than talking to me. I see the back of his fucking head more often than I see the front because he is fucking obsessed with that fucking game. Typically when I come home I’m ignored, so why the fuck would I want to spend that time cleaning? Really, would you want to come home from 13 hours of classes and clean while your boyfriend played a video game? Didn’t think so. AND even if I do clean, he’ll find something else to bitch about. I’ll do the dishes and the laundry and he’ll bitch about my sock drawer. My fucking sock drawer for christ’s sake! The fucking drawer that is only open when I am looking for underwear and socks. He’ll tell me that I need to match up all my socks, fold them and separate my pajamas from everything else. It’s not like he’s ever fucking awake while I’m putting on my damn socks, so I have no idea why it was suck a big deal. So my thought is this: If I am going to get bitched at no matter what, I might as well be bitched at while enjoying myself. Why would I clean just to have some whiney little brat tell me I need to organize my sock drawer… a drawer he looks into a total of 5 minutes a week? Right, I wouldn’t.

I told him that how he feels about cleaning is how I feel about our relationship. I do all the work and he does nothing at all. He denied this, and then I reminded him that in 3 weeks he has yet to do the one thing I asked for. It’s not like I’m punishing him, but really, a girl can only do so much. I can’t come home from a stressful day or horribly stressful classes to a stressful relationship with someone who doesn’t fucking care. And then to expect me to have the drive to clean the house as soon as I get home (even though he’s been sitting is his chair for the past 7 hours) is fucking ridiculous. Do I feel entitled to not clean for a week? I sure as hell do.

            Actually, that was another thing that really pissed me off. He said I hadn’t been doing anything for the past three weeks even though I have a ton of free time. I asked him when I had free time this week and he couldn’t come up with anything. Right, I was at school for 13 hours Monday and Wednesday (each day) and Tuesday I had a 4 hour class in the morning, came home and studied for my midterms (yes, two on the same day) and then went back to school for another 3 hours. Oh, and when I came home I studied until 1 a.m. and then woke up on Wednesday at 5 a.m. to finish studying. Clearly I have so much fucking free time.

            Now he’s asking me (as if nothing happened) if I want to go to dinner because I said this morning that I’d like to take him out tonight. I bring him home dinner at least twice a week already and am on a very limited budget. So, the fact that I offered to take him out to a nice dinner to thank him for being so helpful was a big deal to me. Now it’s the last thing I want to do. Especially as he started bitching at me (about what I was thanking him for with dinner) within 10 minutes of me arriving home, so NO, I don’t want to do anything nice for him. Asshole.

Well, it’s been a very enlightening week indeed. Things have been shifting quickly in my life and I’m waiting for a chance to grab onto something to steady myself. I’m very tired. For some reason my body has cut my sleep time in half. Over the weekend I stayed up until 5 a.m. talking to a friend on AIM and slept in until 9 a.m. That’s been pretty much how the rest of me week has gone. Sunday night I couldn’t get to sleep until around 2 a.m., which makes getting up at 6 for classes difficult! Same with Monday night and then last night I stayed up until 1 studying for my midterms and then got up at 5 to finish my note cards. I know it’s possible to function on very little sleep, but I prefer not to. I love my sleep. If I had my way, I would totally sleep for 8-12 hours every night. Let’s compare, shall we? If I had slept the recommended 8 hours each night, I would be at a total of 32 hours of sleep since Saturday. I’m at 16 hours. I’m not sure why I’m only getting exactly 4 hours of sleep each night, but it’s pissing me off. I can run on 4 hours of sleep if it happens now and again, but having it happen every night when I have 13 hours days fucking sucks.

 

I hate you body.

 

Speaking of hating my body, it’s acting up again. I have some kind of new mystery illness, which really pisses me off. I don’t like sounding like a hypochondriac, so it would be wonderful if my body stopped picking random illnesses. This one is a doosey too as it made me SUPER freak out. Seriously… I’m like 2 weeks late and panicked that I might be pregnant, which would be ridiculous as I’m a firm believer that birth control should be used along with a condom… and I’m hardly getting any, so it would be totally unfair if I got pregnant with minimal sex. If I did get pregnant (without first planning it), I would want it to be the result of tri-weekly, 7 hour long sessions with a football team (though that would make picking a dad difficult…), not from once in a while cautious sex with my boyfriend. Anyway, I tested and I’m not, so it leaves me asking where my friend is. Don’t get me wrong, I hate riding the paper pony, but I would prefer to have one than to miss one. Anyway, so that’s been accompanied with random pressure in my ovaries which then leads to about 15 minutes of shooting pain anytime I move, so I usually have to stand in one place until it passes. Good times. Oh, and a headache at least twice a week and an increase of migraines which are now biweekly. I suppose it could all be from stress, but it’s pissing me off. Isn’t my body aware that fucking with me makes me more stressed? No? Well, could someone please pass on the memo?

 

I don’t know if I am really moving out. I was pissed, it was hasty, but perhaps it is needed. Oh, sorry… topic change! Anyway, as much as Matt and his goddamn World of Warcraft piss me off, he’s a really nice guy. Do you know many other guys who would prep your marshmallows so that you can make froggy and bunny cupcakes? Me either.

 

Bleh. I have an appointment with my counselor in an hour or so. Did I not mention that I have weekly appointments with my school’s therapist? Well, I do. And once we spent an entire session talking about the significance of socks. Seriously. I commented that I hated white socks and so she thought it prudent to talk to me about why I hate white socks (my answer: they’re ugly. Her answer: I have a deep connection with colorful socks). Whatever. She’s super nice (even though she believes that most problems can be fixed by deep breathing, but she’s a good helper to taking medication) so I don’t mind spending the hour with her. Plus it’s free. And I can talk (or not talk) about anything I want. I wonder if she’d let me sleep…

 

So I just got done with a physiology midterm that kicked my ass. It was so fucking hard. My teacher is awesome and all, but he believes in making tests that resemble English essays in that you should include long, drawn out details. That’s awesome and all, but what all can you say about physiology? There’s only so much a person can memorize. And he likes to try and trick you with his questions. He believes it’s to make us pay attention… I believe it is a dick move. Science is hard enough, don’t try to make it worse for us. Anyway, only 7 people finished before he called “time” so that’s gotta tell ya something. I have an Anatomy midterm at 6 tonight… with the same teacher. Just kill me- please.

 

Oh! Random happiness for me: I got new makeup. I know that sounds retarded, but it’s Mac and this is pretty much all I have to look forward to in life. New makeup and tests to fail. Great. I have yet to see myself in natural light, so I’m hoping the shade matches… otherwise I may look like a bit of a fool today. Whatever… who am I trying to impress? I believe you are looking for the answer “no one”. Exactly. I’m still trying to dress cute otherwise I’ll end up coming to school straight out of bed; jammies and all. I also got my new bras and I adore them. I’m wearing a neon-orange one right now, which may clash with my pink outfit, but whatever. I don’t fucking care. Plus, I don’t have to look at myself.

 

I would love to tell you that I have something interesting to say, but I don’t. sorry.

 

PS: this blog is super pissing me off. For some reason it has been taking forever to post my blogs, and sometimes it only posts the first few sentences. I have no fucking idea why. I hate you blog and your stupid slow posting and fuckery.

 

In other news, I found an application on Facebook which allows you to buy your friends. Needless to say, I am compulsively buying everyone like my name is Ash and my friends are Pokémon. Got to collect them all!!! I’m a fucking psycho.

My dad is uber religious and talking to him makes me feel like I am talking to someone who is crazy:

megan: and I hate World of Warcraft
father unit (FU): as you should!
FU: he is into that stuff?
Megan: yes
Megan: and it's a huge problen
FU: what a waste of time and a way for satan to get in to your heart
FU: no lie
Megan: wait... why is world of warcraft a place for satan to get you?
FU: isnt it like Dand D
Megan: not really
Megan: i dunno. Dungeons and Dragons is roll playing
FU: maybe iam all wet. I was thinking about something else..


What the fuck? Seriously, I should just smoke some crack the next time I plan on talking to him. Lately I've been using this as my own personal entertainment:

FU: I have never gotten into that stuff. Dont really know but I do try to stay out of dungeons and away from dragons.
Megan: ya, that's good advice, but I dont understand how it has anything to do with satan
Megan: enlighten me
FU: I had heard that it was a gateway years ago. It has been around for a while. I never knew but also never checked into it.
Megan: the gateway to hell?
Megan: You heard that a board game was the gateway to hell and you never questioned this?
FU: Nope,just stayed away from it.
Megan: hmmm
FU: Wasnt that interested in the first place.
Megan: you know, they say rock n roll is the devil's music
FU: yes. anything that doesnt give glory to God....
Megan: like potato chips and ice cream?


Oh lord. I do my best to say random crap and out crazy him... I only win sometimes.

I've begun looking at apartments. If I find one within my price range than I'm moving out. I think it's the best thing for me. I've given up too much to get back too little.