Regina, please don't dump me.

Dear Regina,

I realize I am a trial as a roommate. I am too loud. I fold laundry at inappropriate times. I run the vacuum too early. All this I know. But nothing can make up for last night.

Let me explain.

I came home knowing you were not there. I have been obsessing about a new song (Mama's Broken Heart by Miranda Lambert in case you'd like to take a looky-loo) and had been listening it on my ear buds ont he walk all the way from my car. So, when I got into the elevator solo, I busted out in song. It's a good tune. You really should buy into that to begin with, it will help explain things. And again, knowing you were not there, I continued to sing at the top of my lungs all the way into the loft.

I proceeded to plug in the iPod and sing out loud while I baked granola. And, being a conscientious roommate, I started to sweat over the stove. No matter - running the AC costs money. This I know. Then I thought - I know. I'll take off my dress. I have on a slip, that's kind of like a dress, but with less fabric. That will cool me down.

Once the granola was in the oven, I thought I'd practice my hooping mad skillz while I waited for the granola to bake. It was then I realized I could NOT hoop to Miranda Lambert's Mama's Broken Heart song - it was far too fast a beat and I was out of breath by the second verse. But I hooped and played that song about five times before I gave in and allowed the iPod to roll over to the next song. The Boxer by Mumford and Sons lent itself way better to hooping. By this time I was sweating to an unladylike degree, so I gave in, shut the windows and turned on the AC.

After Mumford, I started listening and hooping to the same old tunes I run to and felt that was stale. I know, I thought, I'll listen to Simon and Garfunkel's version of The Boxer - that will be a nice change of pace. So, I scrolled to all songs, and then went OOOOOOH, "A" section, Adelina by George Strait! How fun! And I listened to it. And hooped. And the next song came on - Addicted by my soon to be boyfriend, Enrique Iglesias (damn you Anna Kournikova, but at least I know you like blondes) and continued to hoop. I made it all the way through the "A"s to Ay Bay Bay by Hurricane before you came home.

Which should explain why you found me in my underwear sweating profusely singing Ay Bay Bay very loudly hooping like a mad thing. I'm very sorry for screaming in shock while my hoop clattered to the floor. It's as if I forgot you lived there.

It won't happen again. I do really like that you just said "hello" like everything was normal, and went into your room like nothing had happened, while I blurted out incoherently things like "My, but you're home early!" and "I was reading a book, honestly!" and "HOGOD, I'm so sorry!!!"

In my defense, you should have seen this coming. In any event, please don't run away into the night screaming like I do when you come home and surprise me in my underwear while hooping. I promise not to do it again.

Until I forget you live there and come home alone again, that is.

Holy crap, I'm a grownup

I took the day off work last Friday originally to run twenty miles in preparation for an upcoming marathon with friend, Amber. (Because what else does one do on ones' day off, right?) But due to an unexpected injury (read: my vanity got in the way when shown a wake board and ski boat on the first truly beautiful day of summer and I pulled a hamstring) I was forced to sit out. Instead, I loaded up the Dipper's truck and hauled two beds across the great state of Tennessee to deliver them to friend Heather. Each time I take a trip to visit her in Memphis, we always take time to a. have fun and also b. do some project around the house. Last time was organizing clothes for a resale, and this time:

caulking a tub! by the by, caulk is not toxic, nor is dish soap if you only take a teeny bite. just ask heather's youngest.

Saturday morning, Heather loaded me up and took me to the gym where she teaches and let me participate in her spin class. What the WHAT? Heather disappeared, and this TEACHER SHOWED up! Holy shit, ya'll. We are grownups now and stuff - Heather has a JOB as a TEACHER.

she shouted a lot - i was totally impressed

I have never wanted to stare at someone so much in my life. So I tried not to stare, but I couldn't help it when Led Zepplin came on in her spin mix. Then we locked eyes and we both cracked up.

After spin, I took her rip class where I totally did not try to be a hero (see note above re: wake boarding) and kept my weights at 5 pounds. Good call on that one, Megan. But it felt a lot like being a cheerleader again. Sweep up, half way, down, all the way! And go, Bulldogs!.

gross and sweaty but still pretty cute

The benefit of going shopping with a friend who lives six hours away?

you can buy the same clothes and not worry about dressing alike - check out my adorable lululemon running skirt!

 

I decided not to drive the truck back to Knoxville, so I: 

 

went home via rocket





Thanks for the love, Jordans.

Happy Camper Award

This week I won a major award. And if you can't tell I was totally taken by surprise, see below:

well played, spirit awards committee, well played. they punked me good.

Incidentally, that is the second time in three months that my poor dean accidentally got bodily fluids on him by me - I almost puked on him a few months ago, and yesterday I almost blubbered on him. In any event, I love my happy camper award and am tickled pink by it. Thank you, Sojourna (and she's going to get sick of me bragging on her but she totally had dinner in Desmond Tutu's private residence HOW COOL IS THAT?)!!!!

I planned the event, and tip my hat to everyone one the team because they can totally keep a secret. Additionally, they all humored me when I insisted on us getting a photo booth for morning and it was a huge hit. I think I wore that thing OUT.

this isn't even all the photos i took

 

It was a fun group of guys - we all had a great time planning the morning. Well. Except that one morning I got all cranky-pants with everyone and told them I was cashing in all of my bitch chips on them. They later told me I would have them back because I may need them another day. That and if that was as bitchy as I got then I really needed to up my game.

 

I was hostess with the mostess alongside with Bridger.

 

high high heels, cocktail dress and updo, and it ain't even 8 am yet.

 

So. Yea me.



Thursday notes

I think I am the only person in the world who thinks this is super boring.That and I want to run up behind her and shriek "SPIDER!"

This I love. And hate for those poor children. But for realz, I cannot stop singing Hot Cheetos and Taquis. Snack! Snack! Snack! CRUNCH.

Sandwich Monday. I look forward to this all week.

And not to overdo NPR (can you overdo NPR?) but this. BWAHAHAHA!!!

This makes me laugh until I cry every time I read it.

All for now. Over and out.

Tee-May

When the fit hit the shan in Planet Megan, my father kept saying, time will heal all wounds. Give it time, Megan, give it time. Then one time he made the mistake of saying Megan, one thing: T-I-M-E. And I said "What the hell is Tee-May?"

Mama said there'd be days like this (Mama said, Mama said!) And buddy, was she ever right. Yesterday was a real humdinger.

Fresh starts are hard, even when you're looking to make one. Having a fresh start thrust at you unexpectedly makes it harder I think, but I'm doing it like a mother fucking champ. (If anyone's in the downtown Knoxville area and would like to see some sweet-ass hooping, gimme a shout). But I am really trying to keep my angst close to the chest - telling too much to somebody you don't pay can come back to bite you and besides, no one wants to hear a bunch of whining anyway. So I limit most of my angst to pithy one-liners about being a singleton again.

Which explains why poor Regina heard me crying myself to sleep last night. And she didn't ignore it, she came and got in bed with me, and hugged me and just let me cry. After awhile, I stopped crying, and a text message came in from the Fireman asking if Regina and I wanted to meet out for a beer.

And you know after bawling my eyes out all night, I'm totally down for a date. But it was late and I didn't want to take the tee-may to put on real clothes so.... that explains why I was at the Corner BP in my Hello Kitty pajamas and crocs at 11 PM last night. No way to see that one coming. What makes it even funnier? I wasn't even conspicuous. BECAUSE I WASN'T THE ONLY ONE THERE IN MY PAJAMAS. Know what makes it even funnier? HER PAJAMAS WERE HELLO KITTY PAJAMAS TOO. The funniest thing? My Mama thought it was a hoot that I went to the Corner BP in Hello Kitty pjs in the middle of the night.

I think I met my Hello Kitty soul mate, and yes I neglected to take a pic. But I can't make this up, so you'll just have to take my word for it. So, please excuse me while I go take a billion pics of me in Hello Kitty pj pants and post them to Pintrest and you're going to want to do yourself a favor and go on and pin those while you're thinking about it because I am rocking the HK pj look in K-town and it will def be the new black next season. Obviously. Then, I'll be all "pffft, HK is so 2013" or I would if I didn't own a million HK things and if it goes out of style I'll be left with only like one library tshirt and a pair of jeans.

ANYWAY. Point is, I tried to cry myself to sleep and failed miserably because then Regina hugged me and then the fireman texted so we got up and went to the bar in the middle of the night and I was in Hello Kitty pjs sans bra and who can possibly be sad in the face of all that? NOT ME. The ridiculous factor was too high.

Watch out, Knoxville. It's my tee-may now to shine.

Do-er of things... EVEN IN MY SLEEP.

I have very few skills that are based solely on all-natural talent. And none of my all natural talents are even remotely marketable, which is a shame. For instance, I can find four-leaf clovers like nobody's business; I can spot them out of the corner of my eye. It's gotten to where I don't even bother to pick them anymore (they wilt quickly).

Addtionally, I have an automatic, internal alarm clock. If I want to wake up at 2 AM, I will sit up in bed at 2 that morning. I don't rely on it, I do set my alarm clock every night. I am only human, and I have overslept before (I can think of about three times, but I doubt it's been more than five times that I have overslept in my life). But usually, I wake up a few minutes before the alarm goes off.

Which brings me to this morning.

Friend Chrissy works at our local NPR station. It's the bi-annual fund drive this week, and I know she's working around the clock for the next several days. I offered to bring an egg casserole to her and the volunteers working the first shift on my way into the gym at about 6 AM this morning. I planned it well - prepped a yummy egg casserole last night before bed, and set my alarm for two times - 4:30 AM (to turn on the oven and put the casserole in) and 5:30 AM (to get up, deliver casserole and go to the gym).

Which was why I was shocked when my alarm went off at 5:30 AM, and I flew out of bed and ran to the kitchen frantically thinking NONONONONONONO I'M GONNA BE SO LATE MY ALARM DIDN'T GO OFF THEY'RE GOING TO THINK I'M A FLAKY NON-EGGY-MEATY-CHEESY-YUM-YUM-LESS JERK!!!!! when all of a sudden.... the oven made a noise.... and I stopped short.... and opened the oven....

To this:

holy crap. i did this in my SLEEP ya'll.

So my alarm did go off at 4:30 AM. And because I have internal clockage, I was all like "Nope, Self, you do NOT have to wake up yet, just scamper quick like a bunny into the kitchen, turn on the oven and slap that sucker in. Back to bed with you!" So. Not only am I funny in my sleep, not only do I hear messes being made in my sleep, I can COOK IN MY SLEEP. Totally have the makings of a badass superhero.

And yes, I did pledge while I was at the radio station, but was still sort of agog about my sleep cooking because I'm pretty sure I signed the pledge form "Evil Queen Megan Kittenlord" hoping they'd read it on the air like that, but I'm not sure if they did.

ION, remember my recent rant about peeling the epoxy off my shower walls? I got a handful of "Da fuc you do that for?" Qs about that being a real "thing" and was feeling very uncomfortable about my abnormal propensity to pick, UNTIL I SAW THIS ON MAD MEN:

see? totally normal. bobby, brother, i feel your pain.

New friend Sharon and I are officially thick as thieves these days. I say we're new friends (and she hates it when I introduce her this way, but I do it all the same because it's a visual nod to irony) but we really are old friends since we knew each other in high school because we were cheerleaders together. Which is why, when we went to go play Geeks who Drink the other night, (SIDE BAR: just went to their website where we are featured prominantly! SQUEEE!!!!) we chose our team name as Bulldogs. Because we could cheer ourselves on that way without having to learn new cheers or make them up. OBVIOUSLY.

Sharon is totally a smarty pants, and I absolutely was comfortable riding her coattails to stardom (although I did save your asses by my knowledge of all things Pee Wee Herman and I'm sorry Mama, I don't know my times tables but I do love me some Pee Wee) until the rankings were announced mid-game and WE WERE IN FIRST PLACE. Then I got my competitive on (Sharon's was already on) and we finished up ultimately in second place. Or as Rob called it "first loser" but he is crackers and we ignored that.

second placers get free blue moon glasses! (or they were having a give away. either one; take your pick, but i choose the first option.) it's the most useful trophy ever!
 

Being gracious second placers, we asked to take Olympic-esque photos with the winners of the evening. 

 

we are very patriotic. if we had won, sharon insisted on, and i agreed to, cheering 'who rocks the house? the bearden bulldogs rock the house' to the whole bar. and i noticed on their website that they identified us as newbies and associated us with GEORGIA bulldogs. not cool, geeks, not cool...

Lastly, I leave you with a text I just got from Regina. She says "This is not PMS talking. People r assholes."

(I think the PMS may be talking)

Over and out.

Happy May Day Ya'll