I'm still at the same job. I still love it some days and hate it others. That's not gonna change any time soon, as it's just one of those jobs. Not great enough to love, but comfy enough to make you not wanna leave.
I'm dating someone. Have been since the summer. A man that makes me want to be a better person and strive for more. A man who is so unbelievably intelligent and caring that every day I'm in shock that he has chosen me. He can make me laugh, and learn and love. I trust him. I respect him. It could blow up in my face tomorrow, and yet it would still all be worth it. Did I mention we're going as Batman (him) and Robin (me) for Halloween? Yeah, we're THAT cute.
I voted conservative in the election. That does not make me a bad person, a capitalist, uneducated or a right winger. I still consider myself liberal in standpoint and am proud. I did not choose a party that I feel will give money to the wealth, or is the equivalent of the republican party for the states. I read the platforms, I educated myself and I voted for who I think can lead this country through tough times. Get over it.
This is a tough time economically...and yet it doesn't seem it as I'm still broke as hell. Seriously, with the recession I'm still struggling to pay off debt at the same rate, still blowing money at the same rate and still wondering when I'm gonna be able to start living life rather than paying for it.
I'm 95% certain that I'm going to just ground my car for the winter. 4 months of a parked car (it's not a winter car) means 4 months where I am less likely to get into a car accident, can pay off debt faster and not scrape my windows and curse that I don't have remote starter. It's not a bad idea...but then again it could change when snow starts to fly and I'm out at the bus stop.
I'm currently entering a time in my life where I feel transition coming. I feel an unease during the summer and realized that I wasn't content with my party girl lifestyle and have been slowly shifting. That's not to say I don't like to go out for a social bevvie or three with friends and that I'm never gonna trainwreck again. Cause we all know that's damn near impossible. I've been weeding out the people in my life that I find to be negative or have been dragging me down. I have been embracing positive and healthy friendships and relationships. It's a weight lifted off my shoulder.
Oh, and my cat is still playing in her damn litter. That's about it :)
Friday, October 24, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
Explanation
Sorry for disappearing and going MIA with no reason or explanation from how I went from a loyal blog writer and commenter, to obsolete in a short time span. Blogvoyeur turned Blog Bore indeed.
Let me explain.
The last month or so of writing has changed and what was once was most therapeutic and enjoyable hobby I've ever had has become something I dread the most. Although blogging since 2003 on a variety of formats, in the last two years it became more than a way to keep old friends up to date, and a way of entertaining college friends, it became therapy. Diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder in 2006, blogging has gotten me through some of the roughest patches of worry, allowing an outlet for my stress, a place to be silly, to be honest and most of all to be me.
For years I did not have a readership and didn't even know about blog networks or sitemeter. In hindsight I realized that I had a broader audience than the two or three people known to read but it was not something to think about. I did not censor myself, draw attention to myself or anything more. I just was.
Over the last year since joining a blogger network something wonderful has happened. My readership has openly grown and an added sitemeter (which I hardly know how to use) shows that my blog is read daily around the world. It has given me the same chills I had when people would openly recognize me on the streets as my college newspapers sex columnist. Suddenly my eyes are open to a world full of amazing writers and I soak up their stories; funny, offensive, heartfelt. I feel as if I know some of you and would be lying if I haven't started sentances in my day to day life with, "Oh, my blogger friend______ had a story about that!"
But something else has slowly changed, bettering my writing at first but then affecting the person clacking on the keyboard. I started writing for an audience rather than myself. And then the insecurity blanket I know all too well has wrapped itself around me. I have always had insecurities after four years of going to university for journalism proved I'm anything but a writer. Which is why I have always loved blogging. It wasn't me wanting to be a writer, it's just me writing. Big difference, trust me.
But now I feel I have to hit a certain bar to entertain, and it's leading to a level of anxiety and dread that started my consistent writing in the first place. It's no longer about saying who I am, it's a race to get the most comments. Comments have become my validation, and if twenty people comment, twenty five is even better. It's a self imposed popularity contest with myself I cannot win. I feel I have to be generic to cater to the masses, and heartfelt enough to be more. A character of fun trainwrecking partygirl, suddenly a one dimensional sitcom star. At some point I stopped being me and started being the version of me I want others to see. Still completely honest, but with shinier facets.
It had occured to me that the continuation of this is the equivalent of walking a tightrope of razorblades with insecurity and narciccism on either side. I cannot win. I still love that people read and comment on my blog and am not trying to deter that or be ungrateful. It is more flattering than you know and I am not trying to sound like a whiney brat. I'm just realizing that I need to step back and make it about the writing, not the audience.
Which is why it's time to step back and gain some clarity as to what I want out of my blog and decide if I want to pursue it further. I want to gain back the love for blogging I had in the first place-telling the world a little bit about me, and learning more from others. I can honesly say I still read everyone's blog consistently and learn something new everyday and I'm not going anywhere. I just need a break. It may be a week, it may be a month but I will be back with more to give than I have been for the last while.
"Writers write to influence their readers , their preachers, their auditors, but always, at the bottom to be more themselves." Aldous Huxley, English novelist and Critic
Let me explain.
The last month or so of writing has changed and what was once was most therapeutic and enjoyable hobby I've ever had has become something I dread the most. Although blogging since 2003 on a variety of formats, in the last two years it became more than a way to keep old friends up to date, and a way of entertaining college friends, it became therapy. Diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder in 2006, blogging has gotten me through some of the roughest patches of worry, allowing an outlet for my stress, a place to be silly, to be honest and most of all to be me.
For years I did not have a readership and didn't even know about blog networks or sitemeter. In hindsight I realized that I had a broader audience than the two or three people known to read but it was not something to think about. I did not censor myself, draw attention to myself or anything more. I just was.
Over the last year since joining a blogger network something wonderful has happened. My readership has openly grown and an added sitemeter (which I hardly know how to use) shows that my blog is read daily around the world. It has given me the same chills I had when people would openly recognize me on the streets as my college newspapers sex columnist. Suddenly my eyes are open to a world full of amazing writers and I soak up their stories; funny, offensive, heartfelt. I feel as if I know some of you and would be lying if I haven't started sentances in my day to day life with, "Oh, my blogger friend______ had a story about that!"
But something else has slowly changed, bettering my writing at first but then affecting the person clacking on the keyboard. I started writing for an audience rather than myself. And then the insecurity blanket I know all too well has wrapped itself around me. I have always had insecurities after four years of going to university for journalism proved I'm anything but a writer. Which is why I have always loved blogging. It wasn't me wanting to be a writer, it's just me writing. Big difference, trust me.
But now I feel I have to hit a certain bar to entertain, and it's leading to a level of anxiety and dread that started my consistent writing in the first place. It's no longer about saying who I am, it's a race to get the most comments. Comments have become my validation, and if twenty people comment, twenty five is even better. It's a self imposed popularity contest with myself I cannot win. I feel I have to be generic to cater to the masses, and heartfelt enough to be more. A character of fun trainwrecking partygirl, suddenly a one dimensional sitcom star. At some point I stopped being me and started being the version of me I want others to see. Still completely honest, but with shinier facets.
It had occured to me that the continuation of this is the equivalent of walking a tightrope of razorblades with insecurity and narciccism on either side. I cannot win. I still love that people read and comment on my blog and am not trying to deter that or be ungrateful. It is more flattering than you know and I am not trying to sound like a whiney brat. I'm just realizing that I need to step back and make it about the writing, not the audience.
Which is why it's time to step back and gain some clarity as to what I want out of my blog and decide if I want to pursue it further. I want to gain back the love for blogging I had in the first place-telling the world a little bit about me, and learning more from others. I can honesly say I still read everyone's blog consistently and learn something new everyday and I'm not going anywhere. I just need a break. It may be a week, it may be a month but I will be back with more to give than I have been for the last while.
"Writers write to influence their readers , their preachers, their auditors, but always, at the bottom to be more themselves." Aldous Huxley, English novelist and Critic
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Pemberton Recap-Part 1
I'm still too tired, exhausted and busy with piled up work to even start to do the real recap post of Pemberton Musicfest other than to say it was a fantastic, disgusting, dirty, exhausting, tiring, and euphoric weekend and I have so many stories to come. My camera is still mid developing so for now I'm just gonna post some generic shots I grabbed off the newspaper websites.
This is people starting to fill the field for Metric on Friday. Dusty, with a gorgeous background of the mountains!
A shot of the crowd from the stage at night (note this is one of the four main stages)
The Bacardi B151 Tent, which was pitch black all day long and made you feel like you weren't in a festival complete with 4 full bars with rain showers behind, 6 beds to lay on, many loungers in the sun, 2 vip stages with couches and more.
The Tragically Hip-Best Canadian Band Ever.
He may not have come back to my tent for some love making, but he did sing a song about wanting to Fuck Me Like an Animal.
Hizzo and I are tight after P-fest. He gave us a shout out. We gave him a shout out. You know how it goes.
Rock. God.I don't want to alarm anyone but I think Tom may have been "on the pot".
That's it for now, but a full recap to come soon...
Monday, July 21, 2008
MotherF#cking Pemberton Music Fest, Baby!
AAARRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Sorry, I'm just a little bit excited. At this time Thursday midday I'm going to be basking in the sweet sweet sexy music of Pemberton MusicFest. Ticks were bought months ago (courtesy of my bestest wife/friend Leanne as a birfday gift)and excitment has sloooooooowly been growing, but it struck me yesterday like a ton of bricks.
It's almost time! It's really here. And now muchlike Christmas I can't sleep? So much to do, so much to pack, where do start?
Well first off I'll start by telling you some of the great bands I'm going to see between Friday to Monday.
What you can expect, when I'm "with the band"
Sorry, I'm just a little bit excited. At this time Thursday midday I'm going to be basking in the sweet sweet sexy music of Pemberton MusicFest. Ticks were bought months ago (courtesy of my bestest wife/friend Leanne as a birfday gift)and excitment has sloooooooowly been growing, but it struck me yesterday like a ton of bricks.
It's almost time! It's really here. And now muchlike Christmas I can't sleep? So much to do, so much to pack, where do start?
Well first off I'll start by telling you some of the great bands I'm going to see between Friday to Monday.
- Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
- Jay-Z
- Coldplay
- Nine Inch Nails
- N.E.R.D.
- Metric
- Serj Tankien (Lead singer of System of a Down)
- Interpol
- Sam Roberts
- Tragically Hip
- Death Cab for Cutie
- The Flaming Lips
- Wolfmother
- Wintersleep
- DJ Shadow and Cut Chemist
- Chromeo
Yeah, are you jealous yet? You should be. That's only a snippet of over one hundred bands playing music over five days at the largest Canadian Music festival ever set to date. Forty thousand people tenting near the little town of Pemberton one hour north of beautiful Whistler, B.C. (home of the 2010 Olympics).
This is my first time camping for more than 12 hours or partaking of a festival of this size and to say I'm stoked in the understatement of the century. So much to do and so little time, and work just keeps piling up.and none of my questions come with premade answers...
Can I survive off beer and veggie burgers for five days straight?
Will either Pharell or Trent R. want to come back to my tent wth the promise of sweet lovemaking under solar panels and a gatorade popsicle?
Can I bring walkie talkies back in style?
Is beer or a ceasar a more appropriate drnk for a hangover?
Can a hair straightener be plugged into a car battery?
Will find a guest blogger by Wednesday night?
Will my pale skin finally get the tan it wants, or the pink it knows?
Wll there be any students there and how much do have to pay them to not tell the stories of their half naked drunkass instructor?
How will I survive without facebook/blogging for almost a week?
Is t inappropriate at 28 to wear a cowboy hat and throw out the devils sign during concerts?
If Gwenyth is there with Chris, think she'll share her tips on how her hair is so goddamed shiny all the time?
When Jay-Z realized just how awesome I am at rapping back '99 problems, do you think he'll invite me on stage for a mash-up?
I still have so much to do but all can do is bounce around rockng out to Freefalling n my underwear.....so pretty much the same as I'll be doing in four days!
What you can expect, when I'm "with the band"Tuesday, July 15, 2008
There Was Someone Looking Over You
"Check for bodies."
"She was going so fast. There's no way someone could have survived that."
"Look for someone down the embankment, they could have been thrown."
Those were the words I woke up to one year ago. I knew I had just been in an accident, a horrible accident. As I layed, pinned against the steering wheel upside down it all started coming back to me. But before I could reflect on the eighty seconds that changed me forever, I had to address the immediate.
There was gas leaking and I needed to get out. So with a body bruised and pummeled by sheets of metal and exploding glass I had no choice but to break free and slide my body over the layers of jagged glass leading to the ground. Adrenaline and shock kicked in making the cuts and tears from glass virtually painfree and unnoticed, adding to the layers of glass deeply protruding leaving permanent scars and ribbons of cuts still with me to date.
The rest was a blur, I didn't notice my shirt was off. A firstaider covered me. The ambulance took so long and the shock grew deeper. I could tell it was probable I would lose consciousness again so I started rattling off information that could be pertinent for strangers who had just witnessed a car roll across four lanes of highway into oncoming traffic before skidding on its roof to hit a rock embankment.
"My name is Meghan. I'm 27. I'm hypoglycemic and allergic to penicillin and sulfurics. My parents cell phone number is in my phone under Parents. Call them. I'm currently not taking any medication."
The ambulance came. I looked at the crumpled remains of the car I loved so much. My first car. My graduation present. Now a twisted piece of sheet metal, a skeleton of itself. It was gone. I looked at my body. Streaks of gravel, broken teeth, obvious concussion, torn muscles. Pavement where skin should be and tears staining a face covered in glass and oil. But I was still here. I was lucky.
" I don't know if I believe in angels. I don't know if I believe in God. But I think there's someone out there that didn't want you to die tonight. I've been to dozens of accidents that weren't as bad as this where the people didn't walk away. You shouldn't have walked away. But you did. You're lucky."
The cop who witnessed it all said. He was saying it to be kind but also to be truthful. I was getting charged while still bandaged and in pain. He was nice and gave minimal charges despite my truthfulness.
"Yes, I was speeding. Excessively. Yes, I was smoking. Yes I looked away from the road, but only for a minute...and I lost control."
It only took a second, a split second and everything changed. If I had killed someone I would have been charged with manslaughter he said. I would have deserved it. I felt I deserved more punishment for all the pain I caused. My family who had to get a phone call informing them their daughter was involved in a serious motor vehicle accident. The friends who had to see me in the hospital, their gasps audible as I was wheeled through the ER a mass of IV bags and braces. My brother who had to search hospitals to find me. The people who found out by hearing it on the news. The staff who was accomodating to the months of physiotherapy and doctors appointments that followed.
One year later and I'm still so affected. Just as how at age fourteen I vowed to never drink and drive after having a friend killed by a drunk driver, I have been affected by speed. The flashbacks and nightmares that followed for months. Knowing if I had rolled one more time......if the truck had been ten feet closer.....the cowboy hat that saved my head from the crushed roof.....the oversized sunglasses saving my eyes from the splinters of glass.........The depression. The fear. The embarrassment. I am just now slowly starting to drive on the highways again, and it is terrifying but I know I must do it. I will conquer it.
At age twenty seven I was faced with my own mortality, in a brief moment that I cannot ever describe in words. It changed everything. I heard today of possibly two other accidents that have happened in the Okanagan within the last twenty four hours. Likely relating to speed. One with fatalities.
The need for speed isn't all about hotshot punkass shits with souped up Civics street racing that kills. It's the people that want to make the long weekend traffic that much faster, get to the camping spot, the festival, the relativies. It's anyone. It's me. I need the adrenaline rush. But now I also respect my mortality and that of others.
And with the streaks of tears back on my face as the floodgates have reopened, I wear my scars proud rather than ashamed. I survived my own stupidity and that's my daily reminder. I don't need the speed to feel alive, I feel alive by slowing down and respecting my life and others around me.
"She was going so fast. There's no way someone could have survived that."
"Look for someone down the embankment, they could have been thrown."
Those were the words I woke up to one year ago. I knew I had just been in an accident, a horrible accident. As I layed, pinned against the steering wheel upside down it all started coming back to me. But before I could reflect on the eighty seconds that changed me forever, I had to address the immediate.
There was gas leaking and I needed to get out. So with a body bruised and pummeled by sheets of metal and exploding glass I had no choice but to break free and slide my body over the layers of jagged glass leading to the ground. Adrenaline and shock kicked in making the cuts and tears from glass virtually painfree and unnoticed, adding to the layers of glass deeply protruding leaving permanent scars and ribbons of cuts still with me to date.
The rest was a blur, I didn't notice my shirt was off. A firstaider covered me. The ambulance took so long and the shock grew deeper. I could tell it was probable I would lose consciousness again so I started rattling off information that could be pertinent for strangers who had just witnessed a car roll across four lanes of highway into oncoming traffic before skidding on its roof to hit a rock embankment.
"My name is Meghan. I'm 27. I'm hypoglycemic and allergic to penicillin and sulfurics. My parents cell phone number is in my phone under Parents. Call them. I'm currently not taking any medication."
The ambulance came. I looked at the crumpled remains of the car I loved so much. My first car. My graduation present. Now a twisted piece of sheet metal, a skeleton of itself. It was gone. I looked at my body. Streaks of gravel, broken teeth, obvious concussion, torn muscles. Pavement where skin should be and tears staining a face covered in glass and oil. But I was still here. I was lucky.
" I don't know if I believe in angels. I don't know if I believe in God. But I think there's someone out there that didn't want you to die tonight. I've been to dozens of accidents that weren't as bad as this where the people didn't walk away. You shouldn't have walked away. But you did. You're lucky."
The cop who witnessed it all said. He was saying it to be kind but also to be truthful. I was getting charged while still bandaged and in pain. He was nice and gave minimal charges despite my truthfulness.
"Yes, I was speeding. Excessively. Yes, I was smoking. Yes I looked away from the road, but only for a minute...and I lost control."
It only took a second, a split second and everything changed. If I had killed someone I would have been charged with manslaughter he said. I would have deserved it. I felt I deserved more punishment for all the pain I caused. My family who had to get a phone call informing them their daughter was involved in a serious motor vehicle accident. The friends who had to see me in the hospital, their gasps audible as I was wheeled through the ER a mass of IV bags and braces. My brother who had to search hospitals to find me. The people who found out by hearing it on the news. The staff who was accomodating to the months of physiotherapy and doctors appointments that followed.
One year later and I'm still so affected. Just as how at age fourteen I vowed to never drink and drive after having a friend killed by a drunk driver, I have been affected by speed. The flashbacks and nightmares that followed for months. Knowing if I had rolled one more time......if the truck had been ten feet closer.....the cowboy hat that saved my head from the crushed roof.....the oversized sunglasses saving my eyes from the splinters of glass.........The depression. The fear. The embarrassment. I am just now slowly starting to drive on the highways again, and it is terrifying but I know I must do it. I will conquer it.
At age twenty seven I was faced with my own mortality, in a brief moment that I cannot ever describe in words. It changed everything. I heard today of possibly two other accidents that have happened in the Okanagan within the last twenty four hours. Likely relating to speed. One with fatalities.
The need for speed isn't all about hotshot punkass shits with souped up Civics street racing that kills. It's the people that want to make the long weekend traffic that much faster, get to the camping spot, the festival, the relativies. It's anyone. It's me. I need the adrenaline rush. But now I also respect my mortality and that of others.
And with the streaks of tears back on my face as the floodgates have reopened, I wear my scars proud rather than ashamed. I survived my own stupidity and that's my daily reminder. I don't need the speed to feel alive, I feel alive by slowing down and respecting my life and others around me.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Estrogen=Crazy
The blog title prob made a few people cringe, but I have to admit I'm chock full of it right now with a side of progesterine. The fun of trying to ensure my uterus is not chock full of babies every month.
Of course with trying to get pill dosage right, a fun little rendevous with the morning after pill about 5 weeks ago and my normal crazyasaloon mood swings, right now to say I've been emotionally charged lately is an understatement.
This is not boding well in trying to convince my one guy friend that all redheads are NOT indeed insane.
But rather than continually feel guilty for the raw nerve endings of my psyche I'm starting to see the actual Benefits of it. Right now through my manic highs of snorting laughter and lows of offended tears I'm seeing that I am Aware of my emotions more right now than I have been in a long time. It's scary and real.
I crave food right now with the salivation of a pregnant woman.
I want kisses that are salty with passion, not bitter from booze.
I hurt when people say rude things rather than brushing it off.
I appreciate the many things people do for me, which don't come with enough thank yous.
I enjoy the new friendships I have been making and growing from.
I lust for a sense of balance between the adult I am and the immature girl that reflects back.
I hope to look better than my exboyfriends shiny new girlfriend at the dinner party Saturday.
I'm happy he's happy, but just unhappy it was so soon afterwards.
I wish people would take me more seriously. Doing stupid things doesn't make me a stupid person.
I rage when people are careless with feelings.
I hesitate to accept casual sex as substitute over substance.
I absorb stories from others, like sunshine on my face.
I speak advice I can only wish to follow myself, someday.
I care too much about the little stuff while knowing in the end the big picture will work out.
I envy people with families right now. At 28 it finally struck me...Wives. Husbands. Children. As it brings purpose that my lifestyle is too selfish and insula rto permit.
I miss a sense of belonging at work.
I love me, flaws and all.
I hate that I have to remind myself of that.
If anything this time period has allowed a sense of emotional freedom and catharsis, not wanted but expected and appreciated. A hormonal imbalance that can create a sense of chaos and inner confusion at times that make me wonder if I could be tiptoeing towards a breakdown of sorts, but with it also brings a clarity and empowerful of appreciating all the deeprooted feelings you push aside during your day because you're too busy with stuff.
What are you feeling?
Of course with trying to get pill dosage right, a fun little rendevous with the morning after pill about 5 weeks ago and my normal crazyasaloon mood swings, right now to say I've been emotionally charged lately is an understatement.
This is not boding well in trying to convince my one guy friend that all redheads are NOT indeed insane.
But rather than continually feel guilty for the raw nerve endings of my psyche I'm starting to see the actual Benefits of it. Right now through my manic highs of snorting laughter and lows of offended tears I'm seeing that I am Aware of my emotions more right now than I have been in a long time. It's scary and real.
I crave food right now with the salivation of a pregnant woman.
I want kisses that are salty with passion, not bitter from booze.
I hurt when people say rude things rather than brushing it off.
I appreciate the many things people do for me, which don't come with enough thank yous.
I enjoy the new friendships I have been making and growing from.
I lust for a sense of balance between the adult I am and the immature girl that reflects back.
I hope to look better than my exboyfriends shiny new girlfriend at the dinner party Saturday.
I'm happy he's happy, but just unhappy it was so soon afterwards.
I wish people would take me more seriously. Doing stupid things doesn't make me a stupid person.
I rage when people are careless with feelings.
I hesitate to accept casual sex as substitute over substance.
I absorb stories from others, like sunshine on my face.
I speak advice I can only wish to follow myself, someday.
I care too much about the little stuff while knowing in the end the big picture will work out.
I envy people with families right now. At 28 it finally struck me...Wives. Husbands. Children. As it brings purpose that my lifestyle is too selfish and insula rto permit.
I miss a sense of belonging at work.
I love me, flaws and all.
I hate that I have to remind myself of that.
If anything this time period has allowed a sense of emotional freedom and catharsis, not wanted but expected and appreciated. A hormonal imbalance that can create a sense of chaos and inner confusion at times that make me wonder if I could be tiptoeing towards a breakdown of sorts, but with it also brings a clarity and empowerful of appreciating all the deeprooted feelings you push aside during your day because you're too busy with stuff.
What are you feeling?
Monday, July 7, 2008
The Bachelor Party
All I had planned this weekend was to float down the channel on Okanagan Lake, Everything else was supposed to be chill and relaxed and hijink free. Seriously.
I didn't plan on a bachelor party staying in our motel all weekend. With twenty hot guys between 26-29. (Dear diary, jackpot.) I didn't plan on drinking from 2pm til 4am straight. I sure as hell didn't think that the lake would be warm enough to swim in at 3am. Or that I would manage to slide down the slide into the lake without spilling my beer.
I didn't think I'd make out with a guy three hours after I slapped him out for suggesting such atrocity. The nerve. And that I'd almost get kicked out of the strippers for taking pictures. Not even of the strippers but the groom to be all pretty in his dress and makeup.
I sure didn't think his friends would ditch him to try to coug' it up so my partner in crime (Leanne) and I would be the ones to take him home and put him to bed. Or that the motel manager would be there when I tried to break into the hotel pool. Sans clothes.
It was just surreal to take pictures with Elvis at some point, break my phone for the millionth time, become friends with guys named Samantha, the Greganator, Farva and the hot waitress. Or that I'd be drunk til 10am. And have barely enough time to go for breakkie (Dennys-breakkie of champions) with my friend and his kids. It's very hard to not swear in front of children whilst hungover. Very hard.
I didn't think it would be one of the best weekends I've had in a long time, but it was and that's what makes those road trips so awesome. When there's no plans and just the want to have some fun in the sun. I'd post pics but already know the rules of the bach party are to not do that so will refrain.
Oh and I wonder if management was able to get the sandcastle worth of sand out of the bed. Don't ask.
I didn't plan on a bachelor party staying in our motel all weekend. With twenty hot guys between 26-29. (Dear diary, jackpot.) I didn't plan on drinking from 2pm til 4am straight. I sure as hell didn't think that the lake would be warm enough to swim in at 3am. Or that I would manage to slide down the slide into the lake without spilling my beer.
I didn't think I'd make out with a guy three hours after I slapped him out for suggesting such atrocity. The nerve. And that I'd almost get kicked out of the strippers for taking pictures. Not even of the strippers but the groom to be all pretty in his dress and makeup.
I sure didn't think his friends would ditch him to try to coug' it up so my partner in crime (Leanne) and I would be the ones to take him home and put him to bed. Or that the motel manager would be there when I tried to break into the hotel pool. Sans clothes.
It was just surreal to take pictures with Elvis at some point, break my phone for the millionth time, become friends with guys named Samantha, the Greganator, Farva and the hot waitress. Or that I'd be drunk til 10am. And have barely enough time to go for breakkie (Dennys-breakkie of champions) with my friend and his kids. It's very hard to not swear in front of children whilst hungover. Very hard.
I didn't think it would be one of the best weekends I've had in a long time, but it was and that's what makes those road trips so awesome. When there's no plans and just the want to have some fun in the sun. I'd post pics but already know the rules of the bach party are to not do that so will refrain.
Oh and I wonder if management was able to get the sandcastle worth of sand out of the bed. Don't ask.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Princess Pirate Meghan Day
Has a nice ring to it, no?
But no, as yesterday was my birthday I think I'll celebrate 28 by embracing the maturity of age and descent into 30 with some wisdom and sage advice from one blogger to another. Let me give guidance and insight to those younger bloggers out there so they can learn from the many mistakes I make, over and over.
Then I thought, fuck it. Pictures will give the same message. *
But no, as yesterday was my birthday I think I'll celebrate 28 by embracing the maturity of age and descent into 30 with some wisdom and sage advice from one blogger to another. Let me give guidance and insight to those younger bloggers out there so they can learn from the many mistakes I make, over and over.
Then I thought, fuck it. Pictures will give the same message. *
Because growing older means becoming resourceful.
Now would be a good time for any delurkers to give me the present of coming out for birthday wishes :) Have a great day.
*This pic is from a couple years back. I did not celebrate my birthday by peeing in a male urinal. It was a low key dinner with a couple drinks, that's all. 28 was supachill.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Wowing Them With Awesomeness
I work in an office. A professional office that doesn't approve of my suggestions of "no pants" Fridays and 'Hookers and Blow' Wednesdays. An office with ties and business suits, conference calls and meetings with Head Office.
An office where work gets done, and although jokes happen amongst the staff they are not frequent nor appreciated by a lot of people. It's a place filled with soccer mom's and almost retire-ees.
So since it was one of the first (exciting) times for me to go to a regional office get together on Friday, you're going to have to fill me in on a few things.
Is it couture to discuss getting a pap smear from a guy that looks like Santa? And how it's the best grooming look to have a landing strip for the occasion?
People like it when you show your trick of shoving a drink down your shirt and drinking it right? And offer to show the leg behind the head trick.
Office mates love it when you discuss your joke "O" face and show it to them. It involves crossed eyes and me tongue sticking out. And declaring it dead sexy.
It's a good thing to talk about stories about streaking and how you've been known to "inhale" on occasions. And tell stories of getting high on 'shrooms back in the day. And how it's been a long time since you've gotten laid.
Cause if so, I wowed them Friday. If not, it's time to start drinking water at office functions.
An office where work gets done, and although jokes happen amongst the staff they are not frequent nor appreciated by a lot of people. It's a place filled with soccer mom's and almost retire-ees.
So since it was one of the first (exciting) times for me to go to a regional office get together on Friday, you're going to have to fill me in on a few things.
Is it couture to discuss getting a pap smear from a guy that looks like Santa? And how it's the best grooming look to have a landing strip for the occasion?
People like it when you show your trick of shoving a drink down your shirt and drinking it right? And offer to show the leg behind the head trick.
Office mates love it when you discuss your joke "O" face and show it to them. It involves crossed eyes and me tongue sticking out. And declaring it dead sexy.
It's a good thing to talk about stories about streaking and how you've been known to "inhale" on occasions. And tell stories of getting high on 'shrooms back in the day. And how it's been a long time since you've gotten laid.
Cause if so, I wowed them Friday. If not, it's time to start drinking water at office functions.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Screw Flanders
Doncha hate it when you have writer's block.
Then again I'm not a writer so, let me rephrase that. Doncha hate it when you have self commentary/editotial block? Better.
I don't have the words in my mental thesausus to post about the events in my day to day life- drinking, dancing, my newfoundlove for golf. Almost rolling a golf cart on Saturday. Stupid hills.
I'd write about work but considering it has to do with a lot of stat reports lately I'd also have to mail pens to every person who reads this so you could jab yourself in the eye. And that would take a lot of stolen office stamps.
I don't have any witty stories to share. None that come to mind. Well I can alwayd tell some of the absurd stories of my life, but they make people go wtf more than anything. Ex "Remember that stalker I had when 21, I wonder what ever happened to him?" "Do you remember that pregnant roomate we had that only ate crackers and talked in a babyvoice?" "Remember that time we accidentally got alcohol banned from our Uni program for an entire year. Man, I think that pissed people off."
Yeah, I got nothing.
Actually, that's a lie. I have pictures of my cat. And if I think she's cute, so will you. But I'm saving those for another day.
I could tell witty stories about my love life, but really if I haven't made up stuff to date, why start now. I'll just say I'm going through a dry spell in all senses and leave it at that.
I could write a cute list of things I like/dislike right now but even that seems boring. I still like pirates and dance offs. I hate mosquitos and golf courses that don't have the beer people that come around.
I could blog about upcoming weekend plans....trips down the river, my birthday, Canada Day, 10 year grad reunion, being females going to a bachelor party, trips to the Okanagan, possible roadtrip drinking with coworkers, Pemberton music festival, Revelstoke baseball tournament, PNE amusement park in Vancouver. My summer is booked! But none of these have happened yet, so there's really nothing to post.
I could give a shout out to all the great blogs I have been reading lately but there's too many to pimp so I'll save that for another day as well.
So instead I'll cop out and throw out another "Ask Meghan Anything" platform and let that decide the next post. Cause right now I feel like Homer S. writing a food article and all I gots to say is Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.
Then again I'm not a writer so, let me rephrase that. Doncha hate it when you have self commentary/editotial block? Better.
I don't have the words in my mental thesausus to post about the events in my day to day life- drinking, dancing, my newfoundlove for golf. Almost rolling a golf cart on Saturday. Stupid hills.
I'd write about work but considering it has to do with a lot of stat reports lately I'd also have to mail pens to every person who reads this so you could jab yourself in the eye. And that would take a lot of stolen office stamps.
I don't have any witty stories to share. None that come to mind. Well I can alwayd tell some of the absurd stories of my life, but they make people go wtf more than anything. Ex "Remember that stalker I had when 21, I wonder what ever happened to him?" "Do you remember that pregnant roomate we had that only ate crackers and talked in a babyvoice?" "Remember that time we accidentally got alcohol banned from our Uni program for an entire year. Man, I think that pissed people off."
Yeah, I got nothing.
Actually, that's a lie. I have pictures of my cat. And if I think she's cute, so will you. But I'm saving those for another day.
I could tell witty stories about my love life, but really if I haven't made up stuff to date, why start now. I'll just say I'm going through a dry spell in all senses and leave it at that.
I could write a cute list of things I like/dislike right now but even that seems boring. I still like pirates and dance offs. I hate mosquitos and golf courses that don't have the beer people that come around.
I could blog about upcoming weekend plans....trips down the river, my birthday, Canada Day, 10 year grad reunion, being females going to a bachelor party, trips to the Okanagan, possible roadtrip drinking with coworkers, Pemberton music festival, Revelstoke baseball tournament, PNE amusement park in Vancouver. My summer is booked! But none of these have happened yet, so there's really nothing to post.
I could give a shout out to all the great blogs I have been reading lately but there's too many to pimp so I'll save that for another day as well.
So instead I'll cop out and throw out another "Ask Meghan Anything" platform and let that decide the next post. Cause right now I feel like Homer S. writing a food article and all I gots to say is Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.Screw Flanders.
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