Nonsense

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Hey Mom. I Kinda Owe You. Big Time.

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Happy Mother’s Day 🙂

 

Mom,

You were the vessel that carried me for nine, long months until I graced the world with my presence that stormy Friday morning.

I know you were probably busy with all that childbirth business, but I’m pretty positive the storm outside was a foreshadow for what you were going to deal with once I became a teenager.  Either that, or it’s the reason why I love thunderstorms so much, but I’m going to go with the latter.

Thanks for being there for me.

For telling me to shut up when I was being dramatic.

For listening to me vent and not taking my side because I was wrong and you knew it.

For allowing me to wear boys clothing when I was going through “that phase.”

For never telling me how to dress, and allowing me to eventually find my style.

For loving me even though I refuse to eat squash.

For trying to sneak squash into all our meals by covering it with sauce and thinking we wouldn’t notice.

For showing me how chocolate can really fix your mood.

And for teaching me that wine can do that, too.

For packing my lunches even when I was twenty-two and in grad school.

For eating at the restaurant I worked at, and leaving me a huge tip even though I was a terrible waitress.

For always having the fridge stocked when I come home for the weekend.

For Wednesday Wine nights and summers by the pool.

For making me love running.

For encouraging me to put down my second helping of dessert.

For talking to me on the phone four times a day, just because I’m bored.

And then for telling me I call you too much and I need to learn how to be alone.

For helping me move out, and move in, and then move out again.  Twice.

For not getting mad at me for constantly stealing all of your clothes.

For being forgiving of all the strange, stupid, selfish, and somewhat questionable things I did when I was younger.

For the forgiveness I will need when I continue to do all those things as I get older.

For being the shit.

Words cannot express what you mean to me.  So I guess I will just say, “I love you.”

 

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What’s Up With That Wednesday

I like to eat.

This was most evident when I came back from studying abroad in Dublin circa 2009.  My mother was waiting for me at the ‘Arrivals’ section of the airport, and after five months of separation, the first thing she said to me was, “Wow, you look different.”

And it wasn’t the good different.  It was the twenty pounds heavier complete with a fat face and borderline emerging cankles different.

Being overseas for five months really expanded my horizons with food.  My newly expanded waistline and bloated face were concrete evidence. But as much as I learned to love food and experiment, there were some things I could not wrap my head around.

Spicy food.  One time I went to get wings with my friend Shannon.  She tried some from the “extremely hot” column.  Next thing you know, I look over and she’s got sweat coming out of her ears. HER EARS.  I’ve never been in a situation where ear sweat is not only acceptable but you voluntarily eat something that causes it.

Seriously… What the hell is up with food so hot that it could burn off your face?

Ghost Peppers:

I tend to avoid ghosts at all costs.  Especially in my food.  I don’t want to eat something that is invisible until I bite into it and all the sudden my mouth is engulfed in an inferno that only milk can control.  I’m lactose intolerant, milk don’t work for me.

Jalapeno Vodka:

I accept this.  But I only accept it in a bloody mary.  Otherwise, let’s stick with Stoli Orange and club soda.  It’s citrus sophisticated.

Habanero Pepper:

Yeah. HabanerNO.  I want nothing to do with you.  It’s not personal, only it is.  It is personal.  I can’t be eating something for dinner that will make me cry.  I’m already a woman, I don’t need another reason to shed tears in public.

Suicide Chicken Wings:

I don’t think I ever want to be put in a situation where I would want to kill myself over a chicken wing.  It just seems wrong.  I like to enjoy my wings, maybe have some beer, watch pretend to watch sports but really be scouting all the hot men at the bar.  I don’t want a fatal chicken appendage to come between me and a good man hunt.

…

I’m sweating just thinking about all of these.  I’m gonna go put an icepack on my forehead and stand in a freezer.

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Did I miss any?

Hump Day Humor

It’s Wednesday, so we all need a laugh, right?

This is John Mulaney, friend to Seth Meyer’s, SNL writer, and best friend in my head. He is responsible for co-creating Stefon with SNL’s Bill Hader, and is pretty much the greatest human being on this planet.

He has a new Comedy Central special, New In Town, which I think is pretty spectacular, and gives a bundle of laughs that you could wrap up, use as sticks and make a funny fire.  Metaphorically, of course.

May he dance his way into your heart, and make your vocal chords jiggle with laughter.

What’s Up With That Wednesday

FEATURING: A British Chick Commenting on Americans 

Sophie from British Chick Across the Pond so wonderfully volunteered to guest post for me!  

 As my weekly rant addressing all the weird things people do without reason, I thought it would be a great opportunity to have a recently transplanted British person comment on all the, “What’s up with that?!” nuances of American life.  

Please check out her blog, and follow her cause she’s hilarious and makes me want an accent.  

 Without further adieu…

Life Across the Pond

One question people usually ask me when they learn I’m not from here is, “What is the thing you miss the most?” (Closely followed by… “Have you met the queen?”)
Well, if you take out the obvious of friends and family, my initial answer would be “Bakewell tarts” – a type of pastry filled with fake cherry stuff and topped with some kind of fondant (and a cherry of course).
This is closely followed by, “and yes but the queen and I stopped hanging out since the incident so I don’t like to talk about it.”
After being here 4 months – and having had a care package filled with tarts- my answer would need a bit more consideration. Now I think it’s more about things I didn’t realise I would miss… Things that are almost the same but totally different at the same time.
To figure out what I miss the most I need to think about what things have taken me by surprise or been difficult to adjust to.  My blog is all about the alien encounters since moving here but for now I’ll go with my top 3:

 

Driving:

I’ve blogged about my fears of driving before but since then I’ve actually done it.
Personally I’ve found that driving on the right side of the road (or the wrong side as far as I’m concerned) is doable.
But throw in all this right on red – unless there’s-a-red-arrow-and-even-then-that-doesn’t-mean-don’t-go-unless-there’s-a-sign-and-sometimes-there-is-and-sometimes-there-isn’t-but-even-then-it-depends-on-the-state- crap… Well it’s bloody confusing!
My son knows more than I do.

My son knows more than I do.

Not to mention the fact that a green light doesn’t actually mean, “Go! Be free… Drive forward confidently!” because depending on the layout the chances are it actually means yield but you won’t know that until you get beeped at for being hesitant or rammed head on for going without checking every possible direction.
Now I’ve learned what is and isn’t allowed at each set of lights between home and daycare but the thought of driving anywhere else makes me want to curl up and hide.
I miss the ease and confidence of driving, I miss roundabouts, streams of traffic where the majority know what indicators (blinkers) are for regardless of whether they use them and traffic lights in a 30mph zone rather than stopping dead from 55.
My brakes -and my nerves- are shot.

Words & Accents

Now… I say a lot of weird things in the company of friends but never have I experienced as many confused/blank faces after saying a simple sentence than I have since being here.
An American vs. Brit reading this label = fun for all

An American vs. Brit reading this label = fun for all

I get that we use different words for the same things and that even then we pronounce the same words differently, but the idea of starting a conversation with anyone who isn’t used to “my accent” fills me with dread.

The cashier asks me how my day is or if I found everything I was looking for and I’ll reply… But then it’s over because she’s trying to translate whatever my response was into something she can make sense of and there just isn’t enough time to wait for it to sink in before the card throws out my receipt and the person behind starts unloading.
Having my ID checked at the base gate the guard always says something along the lines of, “Hi, how are you?” And every time I reply with, “Fine thanks… You?”
… And then silence because he thinks I’ve cut him off with a, “Fine, thank you”.
Not only is every pleasantry met with “the look” but I’m always the one to accidentally finish it by opening my mouth so these people probably think I’m rude too.

Money:

When you go on holiday, money usually feels like monopoly money – for me anyway. It holds little ACTUAL monetary value in my mind and gets thrown around without much thought…but this ISN’T a holiday.
Where is it actually $1?!
Where is it actually $1?!
I still think of items as they’re UK conversion and think, “yeah that’s about the same,” but when you get paid in dollars and a pack of chicken nuggets sets you back more than 8 of them…well it’s gonna be bread and water for dinner tonight buddy.
I mean who doesn’t feel like they’re flashing the cash when they’re carrying a whole handful of bills…but then you remember the ones you have are worth ONE dollar. This is all well and good if you’re shopping in the dollar store…but even then they add tax at the end.
If I go in to a place where everything is one dollar I expect to come out with 7 items for 7 dollars… but it doesn’t work that way…and it gets me every time. Then you have the coins… the dime and nickel thing is guesswork for me; a nickel is bigger than a dime… 25c is called a quarter… one cent is called a penny… so why aren’t they all pennies?
I would rather break a $20 to pay for something with actual change. But hey on the upside my sons piggy bank is making big bucks…I just cant figure out how much that is!
I miss the familiarity of it all, the ease of asking anything with confidence and knowing that more than one person will be able to help me out or the ability to drive from one place to another without needing a stiff drink to calm my nerves. In short, there’s nothing I miss because it’s all here… it’s all the same and yet completely different and THAT has been the hardest change to deal with.

Does This Mean I’m Cool?

liebster2So I’m happy to announce that Cents and Cents-abilities has nominated me for a Liebster Award 🙂

I WON SOMETHING, GUYS!

The Liebster Award is pretty much the equivalent of being the new kid in school, you’re recognized cause you’re new but no one really knows anything about you.  Thus, you must do the following things:

  • Link back to the person who nominated you.
  • Answer the 10 Liebster questions given to you by the nominee before you.
  • Pick 10 bloggers to be nominated for the award with under 200 followers.
  • Come up with 10 questions for your nominees to answer.
  • Go to their blogs and notify your nominees.

Here are my answers:

1. How long have you been blogging?

I started back in 2009 when I studied abroad in Ireland, it’s cringeworthy mostly because I completely disregarded the rules of proper grammar and capitalization.

2. What inspired you to start blogging?

I wanted to keep a log of my travels abroad, and let my mother know that I was alive and well and wasn’t a kidnapped and held hostage like that girl in Taken.

3. What advice do you have for new bloggers?

Write every day. Write about anything.  Find your voice.  You only get better with practice.

4. What is the hardest thing about blogging for you?

Trying to come up with fresh, innovative, entertaining content is tough!  But somehow my brain works in weird ways and I find that talking about burritos and pictures of myself from middle school are sufficient ammunition for posts.

5. Describe yourself in three words.

Hungry.  Impulsive.  Creative.

6. What is your favorite post on your own blog?

Catharsis, my post about reflecting on my first year moving away from home is up there, but it is tied with Sole Mates, my post about socks in the dryer.

7. If you were going to write a blog post about your life, what would the title be?

Directionally Challenged.  (I don’t know where I’m going.  But I know how I got here.)

8/9. If you could have a super power, what would it be and why? 

Teleport.  Hands down.  Plane tickets are EXPENSIVE, and I got places I need to see before I kick the bucket.

10. If you weren’t blogging about (your blog’s subject matter), what would you blog about? 

I’d love to take a stab at blogging about animals.  Puppies, kittens, whales, the whole kit and caboodle.  If I had more patience and a higher IQ, I totally would have loved to be a vet.  But who has time for that much school when you have an entry level job and you live in the basement apartment in your building?

 

Here are my nominees (those nominated must answer my ten questions below, OR ELSE):

British Chick Across the Pond

The Wandering Poet

Cents and Cents-abilities

http://renardmoreau.wordpress.com/

John Greaves III

Life in Portsong

U Mad Yet?

The Importance of Being Edited

ViewSplash

Dr. Killpatient’s Weird Fiction

 

My Ten Questions: 

  1. What made you start a blog?

  2. Where do you see your blog going in the future?

  3. What talent (other than your fantastic writing skills) do you wish you had?

  4. What is your dream job?

  5. What is your favorite post you’ve written?

  6. Describe yourself in three words.

  7. What are 3 goals on your Life To-Do list?

  8. Who would be your dream guest poster?

  9. Who is your BFF in your head (meaning a celebrity that doesn’t know you exist, but you know you’d be best friends if they did)?

  10. What would you title a blog post about your life?

..

Thanks again, and congrats to my nominees!

xox Meg

It’s Thursday, and I’m Thirsty.

Thus, unfortunately – or fortunately depending on how you look at it – I don’t have anything new to contribute today, but something noteworthy did happen.  So I’m going to but on my current events cap and botch the absolute crap out of this reporting.

Bear with me.

Fred Phelps Sr., the infamous leader of the deplorable, anti-semitic establishment that is the Westboro Baptist Church passed away today; and while his death is nothing to celebrate, we can revel in the irony of it all, and realize that he was a psychotic human being with nothing else to do but to plot to ruin other peoples’ lives.

If there’s anything you can take away from this event, it is that God does not in fact, “hate fags,” and being who you are is what you were born to do.  Don’t be afraid to show your true colors.  Unless you’re naturally green and scaly, you might be part lizard, and you may want to get that checked out.

Real talk.  Regardless of race, gender, sexuality, or economic status, we are all on this planet together and deserve to be on this planet together.  No one human is above any other, and you are all perfect the way you are.

Rant over, enjoy your Thursday, and drink a beer for me.

Oh, sorry.  Quick question.  When is the rapture, though?

Click the link for more information.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/local/obituaries/fred-phelps-sr-leader-of-westboro-baptist-church-dies-at-84/2014/03/20/a0c5cd30-ae2b-11e3-a49e-76adc9210f19_story.html

It’s time to drink a bottle of wine and make outlandish, judgmental statements about celebrities and cinematic productions.

both of us are empty inside.

both of us are empty inside.

Award show season!  Thank you for giving me the momentous excuse opportunity to pollute the twittersphere and subsequently the rest of the social media universe with all of my thoughts and feelings on the Oscars.

I’ll be here all night, unfortunately.

Drink a bottle of your favorite, cheapest wine, and take a seat right in front of your television AND computer and hop on the train to funtown.  We’re gonna tweet up a storm, and you’re going to need a raincoat.  Or an umbrella.  Or some galoshes.  Or just a roof.

LIVE TWEET:

Remember the time… Oh wait, I forgot.

It’s a burden I carry.  It’s my Achilles heel. It’s almost every explanation as to why I didn’t do something right, get somewhere on time, or put something away.

I just forgot.

My parents did a great job documenting my upbringing.  There are tons of videos and pictures of me as a child, so it’s nice to be able to have a tangible photo to jog my memory, and explain things like why I thought it was a good idea to get cornrows AFTER I got home from vacation in Florida.

That’s a story for a different time, however.

When thinking about my earliest memory, it would most likely be a story about food making it or not making it into my mouth, and my mom subsequently cleaning up the mess I made only to realize she’d be cleaning up my messes for the next eighteen years and then into my adult life.

So rather than bore you with that mumbojumbo, I want to talk about the shambles of my life, and the things I always seem to forget.

Why I walked into a room.

This happens every day; without fail.  I will walk into a room at some point, stare blankly at everything, and not know in the slightest why I am there.  Also, a good thing to note: it does not jog your memory if you slowly twirl in circles looking at all the objects in the room.  It just makes you dizzy.

What I’m supposed to get at the grocery store.

This would be super helpful. Regardless of how many lists I write down for myself, I always end up wandering up and down each aisle in the store – always stopping in the snack aisle for too long – and then inevitably leaving with a flank steak, birthday cake Oreos, and a block of Swiss cheese.  All I needed was cereal.

To fill up my gas tank before it’s too late.

Do I ever fill up my car all the way? Nope.  Am I really good at playing the neutral game?  Yes.  I can coast in neutral and make a tank last double time if needed.  A good skill to learn, in my opinion.  Also a good skill to learn: filling up your gas tank so you don’t have to rely on slight inclines and declines in order to keep your car moving.

Wine will get you drunk.

If I had a dollar for every time I said, “Oh, I’ll only have one glass with dinner.” I’d be rich.  It starts off as a flavor addition to my post-work meal, next thing you know, the bottle is empty and I’m passed out on my living room rug with the TV still on and my dinner half-eaten.

Check my bank account.

I pretty much ignore everything that has to do with personal finances.  My credit cards are always with me, and they give me a false sense of wealth because in my mind, when I don’t see physical dollars disappearing from my wallet, it means that those dollars are still in my bank account.  Except that’s not how it works at all.

Not to drunk dial my parents.  

At this point, my mom knows I’m drunk dialing her and just cuts me off mid-sentence saying she has to do something more important like watch Ellen DeGeneres or file her nails.

Turn off the oven.

But really though, we’re in 2014 and we don’t have an oven that turns itself off?  I thought humanity was smarter than that.  Moreover, I think other people are just smarter than me.  They probably make a point to turn off the oven; I find it more important to hover over the stove with a spoon in hand shoveling the freshly made meal into my mouth.  There is no time for plates.  There is no time for sitting down.  There is only food and it needs to be consumed.

… and then I forgot the rest of my list.

rtt-new

Spoiler Alert: Invention of the Century Inside

OMG, SOOOO TASTY!!

OMG, SOOOO TASTY!!

Oh boy!  I’ve been waiting to share this idea for about three minutes since i just remembered it existed.

I’m a girl who is on the continual hunt for excellence.  I’m always trying to improve.  My brain is in constant motion, for the better and for the worse. I don’t want anyone to see or hear my private thoughts, but today, I’ve decided I’m going to let you in on a little piece of Meg’s brain that harbors my inventions.

A lot of things go on inside my head.  Mostly irrelevant, nonsensical notions, but sometimes there are gems.  This is one of those times.  But how do you dissect the weird from the truly ingenious?  Luckily, I found an online survey that allows you to determine whether or not your invention is good or bad.

I present to you:

MOTIVATIONAL SOUPS

Describe what your invention does in one or more action phrases.

It’s like MLK in your Minestrone.

Does your invention solve a specific problem? If so, describe the problem it solves.

Hunger is a very real problem in my life, and in anyone’s life who is alive.  People gotta eat! And everyone could use a little ego boost.

What advantages does your product have in comparison to the products or solutions above?

I’ve never eaten a can of minestrone and immediately felt souper cool, friendly, or fun – Progressive and Campbell’s just can’t do that. BOOM.

What disadvantages does it have?

I guess if you tell people that your emotional state is being swayed by a canned liquid lunch, people might question your sanity. Other than that, I see no disadvantages.

How much do you expect to sell your product for? How much do similar products sell for?

Like, 5$?  Maybe I’ll add a name your price option, Souper Rich seems like it could be a big seller.

Describe a typical user of your product. Is the person who pays for it a different person? If so, describe the typical person who would pay for your product.

Grumpy people at lunchtime.

What are your goals for this invention?

To improve the mental and physical well being of the human population, while providing a well balanced meal. To make so many dollhairs.

Mark any of the following items that you already have with a check. Mark any that would like to have with an * and estimate your expected budget for that item if you can.

[X] sketches (a simple drawing of the invention)

[X] patent (official patent protection for your idea)

[X] visual model (a 3D model that shows how the invention might look)

[ ] working model (a model that demonstrates that the invention will work)

[ ] computer model (a computer representation of the invention, used for manufacturing)

[ ] technical drawings (drawings that a shop can work from to produce your product)

[ ] renderings (a computer generated image of how your product will look)

[ ] prototype (something close to or identical to the final product)

[ ] production run (many copies of the product to sell)

[ ] product photographs (professional photographs of the product to use in marketing it)

Flavors to be rolled out in large quantities:

Souper Easy, Souper Fun, Souper Awesome, Souper Smart, Souper Attractive, Souper Awkward, Souper Friendly, Souper Drunk, Souper Sassy, Souper Dramatic

Any and all offers are appreciated.  I’d like to see this up and running… tomorrow.  Kinda hurting for cash and stuff.

 

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Cleaning: Then vs. Now

Chores.  The word that, as a child, would make me come up with a sudden prior commitment, a misplaced cell phone, or some sort of bedridden ailment.

No pants? No problem. #Laundry

No pants? No problem. #Laundry

Chores. The word, that as a semi-adult, would still make me come up with excuses, take a necessary nap in avoidance, but the end result would be finding my cell phone.

It’s funny to think about how much you’ve actually grown up compared to yourself as a child. I used to cringe at the thought of doing dishes, but now I will head hunt a roommate and give her a hairy eyeball until she goes and washes the pan from two days ago.

I don’t think I’ve grown up that much, but there are certain aspects of life I’ve accepted as growing up since I’ve moved out.

Making your bed:

Kid: The only time I made my bed was when my mom made me change my sheets.  I just rolled out of bed, then rolled right back in at the end of the night.  Covers still disrupted, it was easy to just pull them back over my gross kid body and call it a night.

Adult: I will forget to bring a lunch to work but you better bet your bottom dollar I make my bed.  There are few greater pleasures than getting ready to go to sleep and hopping inside a freshly made bed.  The warmth of the blankeys permeated through the sheets.  Just pure heaven.  An absolute must before leaving in the morning.

Laundry:

Kid: Laundry consisted of me finding what looked the cleanest on the floor and putting it back onto my body.  If I mustered up the motivation and strength to put everything in a basket and bring it upstairs, mamma Meg would take care of that problem.  Shirts always perfectly folded, socks always perfectly coupled.  I don’t think I ever had missing footwear as a child.  My mom had that shit on LOCK.

Adult: Laundry consists of me finding what looks the cleanest on my floor and putting it back onto my body.  If I muster up the motivation and strength to gather everything into a basket and bring it into the laundry room, chances are I waited too long to fit it all into one machine.  Nothing is ever folded. Socks are always missing.  Laundry is a constant battle.

Dishes:

Kid: Don’t get me started.  I could catch a disease washing a dish.  Especially growing up with three boys, I saw how they ate.  No regard for manners, politeness, or basic chewing.  I was not in any way, shape, or form touching those plates.  Got to the point where if I didn’t do my dishes, my mom would actually take them and put them on my bed.  And as we learned earlier, my bed was never made – so that made for a very unpleasant situation.

Adult: I learned very quickly after moving out that doing dishes is essential.  When you live with people you don’t know, it’s important to keep the place clean.  Or, you quickly learn to question how people were raised when you see them leave dishes in the sink, bowls on the counter, and mugs on the table for days on end. Also, never been more excited to see a dishwasher in my life than when I moved into my new apartment.

Cleaning the house:

Kid: Cleaning the house meant one of two things, either I was being punished, or relatives were coming, which in some cases, could be punishment in itself.  Nothing worse than knowing Thanksgiving was coming up and remembering I have to polish the entire silver set that we use for thirty minutes a year.  “But it’s because it’s your grandmother’s.” My mom would always say.  Okay mom.

Adult: Now I just clean because the place is filthy and I can’t stand having to walk around wearing shoes.  A good vacuum is hard to come by, but essential for my sanity. I never understood why my mom put so much effort into cleaning when guests were going to come and dirty up the place.  But as a mature, cultured adult, I understand that presentation is important, and first, second, and all the time impressions are always measured. CLEAN YA HOUZE.

..Now excuse me, I have to go decide whether or not I’m going to shower tonight.

…

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