Am I There Yet?

directions

Sometimes life gives you lemons, and you make lemonade.

Sometimes, life gives you lemons, and you blurt out in a slight rage asking, “WHERE’S THE VODKA TO COMPLETE THIS LEMON DROP?”

I would be the latter in that scenario.

At 24, I figured I’d have the world figured out by now.  Well, not figured out, but at least have a semblance of a life map that I could follow.  A trajectory that was somewhat attainable in the foreseeable future.  A life plan, or goal that I’d want to achieve by now.

This is not to say that I am not ambitious.  I moved out of my house when I graduated college, I pay my own bills, and live by my own rules.  I’m almost an adult.

But there are still things that I struggle with day to day.  I navigate a pretty complex maze of social situations that I can’t firmly grasp, as well as trying to win the ongoing battle with my closet – finding something to wear without changing eighteen times in ten minutes. And then there is paying bills, but, everyone has problems with that, right? No?  Okay, I’ll tackle that next year.

I’m going to chronicle the myriad of skills or tasks that I have mastered at 24, as well as those with which I’m still struggling.  It’s for your enjoyment, entertainment, or personal reflection.  Though, by no means do I want you to hold yourself to my standard of living, because you’ll find out really quick, I like to cut corners.  And I cut them often.

At 24, I have…

Mastered: Following Directions

Give me a job to do, and I will excel.  Does that mean I’m not cursing you out under my breath or in my head? Absolutely not.  But at 24, I feel like I am pretty competent at taking initiative and following the directions that are given to me.  If my mom tells me to clean my room – done. I’d take my time though, and definitely listen to a little too much pop radio dancing and pretending I have the vocal chops to be a superstar.  Because what fun is cleaning if Britney Spears and Ke$ha can’t help you mop, sweep, and get the job done?

Not Mastered: Following Directions

Ah, the double edged sword of directions.  I’ve lived in Boston for a year now, and I can say with full confidence that I will never know where I am going.  I’ve taken public transportation up and down and side to side of this city, and will get lost EVERY TIME.  I’ve driven to my old apartment in Cambridge back to my new apartment in Back Bay, and I still get lost.  I cannot follow directions.  I use a GPS, I still get lost.

Also, who he hell reads those stupid booklets to put together furniture?  If it’s not already assembled, it is going to stay disassembled until someone comes over with enough patience to either do it for me, or watch me try to hammer and nail something that needs a screwdriver and screws to complete.  Building stuff is just not in my scope of talents.  I accept it.  I’m working on it (kind of).

I have to think about my resolutions for 2014 (yes, still working on that, I have three days, OKAY?), but I have to believe learning how to put together a bookshelf and figuring out how to drive in my own city is on my list of things to master… or maybe finding the lowest priced wine bottle in a given area is a more realistic way to go?

xoxo, Meg

Thanks to Brunch For Every Meal for the inspiration.

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(Slightly) Above Average Intelligence

Every so often life comes along and instead of slapping you in the face, it rewards you with a big ol’ hug and a goblet of wine.

In my life, I mostly get slapped in the face, a bad night in heels, less than eight hours of sleep, or not enough milk in the carton to adequately submerge my cinny toast crunchies.

I feel like, in general, I live a pretty average life.  I’m not extremely athletic, a really good singer, or incredibly smart. I don’t know how to appropriately portion my desserts, find pants that fit, or figure out for the life of me why there is a silent P in pterodactyl.

But today is a milestone.  Today life gave me a warm embrace, and a big fat glass of Pinot Noir – because I finally found out that I was good at something!

In my original post, I mentioned that I wasn’t particularly book smart.  While I maintain that notion, I do want to not completely throw myself under the bus here, because I do think I have some sort of redeeming value in this world. I have a boat load of random knowledge all up in my cranium; I’ve just never had an outlet to show off my cerebral strengths.

UNTIL NOW.

I present to you the game that will make you think you are smarter than you actually are: QuizUp.

At is core, it is a trivia game.  But it adds a competitive edge; because by logging in through Facebook you can challenge your friends. That’s right, you can single-handedly select the people you know are dumber than you and challenge them in a game of wits and fast fingers.

Now, you’re probably thinking to yourself, “Hey self, this girl just told the internet world that she wasn’t smart, so I’m gonna challenge her and make life slap her in the face again.”

For that, I applaud you.  Because that means you actually read what I wrote above.  But I encourage you to think twice about challenging me, because I will whoop some internet bootay in the following categories:

Pop: Move over, Madonna, there’s a new Queen of Pop. AND IT’S ME.

Boy Bands:  I wore a boys flannel t-shirt and a visor three days a week in elementary school because of this photo.  Also, know all the ad-libs to every BSB and N*SYNC song.  Not a big deal, but kind of a big deal.

Shopping: Amazon Prime member, Forever 21 addict, Marshall’s and TJMaxx credit card holder. I can’t even contend with myself here.

Logos: When I give directions, I use landmarks as guides rather than street signs.  So naturally, I know a logo before I know the word.

Missing Letters: Fill in the blanks. N_T   IN    MY   H_U_E.

Name The TV Show: I have a sitcom dictionary all up in my noggin.

It’s true, I’ve finally felt what the other half feels.  To be able to be called on in class and know the answer.  To be able to answer a question correctly, rather than making it up. To be able to utilize all the time spent shopping online for retail recognition.

Game on, people.

PS: If you know that you’re like really good at these five categories, please move on and crush someone else’s dreams.  My dreams are fragile, little, sleepy, glass bubbles filled with ponies, chocolate, and brunch buffets. If you mess with those, you may as well commit a real life felony, because you’re robbing me of my life goals.

Happy Quizzing. And thanks to my main man, Ez for telling me “I can”, when all I ever said was, “I don’t want to.”

You Should Know This For The Apocalypse.

This-Is-The-End-All-2-500 My mom was really into that show Revolution when it first aired. For those who don’t know, it’s a post-apocalyptic television show that focuses on a town living life fifteen years after a global blackout.  All the sci-fi mumbo jumbo and dramatic elements are present. Alliances are formed.  Enemies are made.  Friendships are tested.  But above all, survival is essential.

The show premiered at a very convenient time in 2012.  I was living in Connecticut, and we had just survived a nine-day electricity blackout thanks to that biatch, Hurricane Sandy. Having endured more than a week without power, I pretty much adopted a Katniss Everdeen alter ego.

I fully believed I could engage and win in a survival of the fittest game if it ever came to it.

Going over a week without a shower and blindly navigating my way from the kitchen to my bedroom after my midnight snack made me the toughest human being on the planet. My experiences helped me understand what it was like to struggle in an apocalyptic situation, and I wanted to compare my survival notes during Sandy with the characters on Revolution.

I was sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket, holding a goblet full of wine when I realized I was sorely mistaken in my assumptions about blackout survival tactics. Imagining I was involved, I had to think about all the great attributes and skills I have that would benefit me in certain situations.

I made a mental list in my head of all my strengths: I’m a good leader.  I can help people.  I’m athletic. But, the crippling reality of a non-electrical world harrowed on my soul to the point where I knew I had to make a blanket statement to the world about hanging out with me during an apocalypse.

I wanted to give everyone all the information before this actually happens. I know how it goes.  The world blacks out and everyone immediately starts picking teams.

My intellectual prowess coupled with the fact that I won Best Athlete in the 8th grade superlatives makes me an obvious choice for your survival team.  But I have to be selfless and realize that even the strongest people in the world have weaknesses that can’t be ignored.

Here are a list of reasons you wouldn’t want me in your survival group in the event of an apocalypse. 

1. I’m essentially blind. I have a contact prescription that is one point away from granting me a handicap sticker.  All you’d have to do is take away my glasses and tell me to head in the direction of a cliff or some quicksand and I’m gone.

2. I need at least 8 hours of sleep. I get really cranky if I’m not properly rested.  I also need white noise in order to drift off into dreamland.  I realize this is an issue because night seems like the optimal time to stage an attack, and I like to have lights out by 9pm.

3. I have a pretty strict diet. And by strict, I mean I eat like four things. Chicken, bacon, bread, and eggs.  I may dabble in a salad here and there, but only if there’s ranch dressing.

4. I can’t swim very well. If there is any sort of water obstacle that needs to be overcome, don’t even think about it.  I’m as good a swimmer as a cinderblock.

5. I’m not a good multi-tasker. I can’t even make toast without something sparking or blowing up.  Don’t even get me started on the disaster that would ensue if I had to run through a uncleared forest while simultaneously looking forward and backwards to thwart off attackers.

6. I have an atrocious sense of direction. North is always straight ahead.

7. I think I’m always right. Which I am. Obviously.

8. I’m not what some would call, in shape.  My stamina is not up to par, so running for long periods of time isn’t generally a good idea.

9. People don’t describe me as swift, cunning, or stealth. I don’t know how to whisper, my voice doesn’t do that.  Deaf people can hear me trying to sneak up behind them.

10. I’m not good at waiting.  There’s no way in hell I’m staying for more than a day in one place. I’m not even good at waiting for a song to finish on my iPod before I change it.

All my faults aside, I’m still going to try and tag along even if you don’t want me.  I’m sure there’s someone weaker we can cut out first, right?  

Jamba! Hello! Hola! Bien Venidos! Sup?

Half-Cow swag like you dream about.

Half-Cow swag like you dream about.

What’s up, party people?  My name is Meg. This here is my blog where I write a bunch of stuff that no one will probably ever read but my mother.

But that’s okay because she’s obligated to love me.

Anyways, here’s a little about me.

I have never been told I have street smarts.

Actually, I’ve never been told I have book smarts either.

I do have an extensive knowledge of clouds, a knack for all things sarcasm, and an innate desire to eat bacon with every meal.

I drink vodka, wine, and complain about beer.  I hate my iPhone but refuse to switch to an android. I pretend to exercise because it’s cool. I’m addicted to HGTV, but I can’t do anything myself. I live in Boston and one time I ate ice cream within a five foot radius of Dustin Pedroia; he pretty much adopted me on the spot.

I’m twenty-four and eat chicken and rice five times a week.  My bedroom is a converted closet in a basement apartment with a gorgeous view of a Boston alley.  I look out my window and I see a dumpster and eight rats. It’s breathtaking.

With all that said, I’m just doing what every other twenty-something is doing: trying to find myself. So if you find me first, let me know.

Oh, and let’s be friends!