Scene 1: Approximately 6 p.m., Wednesday February 24. I am pacing about, twitching, and trying to keep busy. He is relaxing with a glass of pinot noir, on the internet.
He: Do you want any of this wine?
Me, opening fridge, rummaging around: No. What do you think for dinner?
A beat goes by.
He: Megan. Do. You. Want. Any. Of. This. Wine.
I slam the refrigerator door, and turn around. I do not look like me anymore. More like a fire breathing Lou Farigno in full on Hulk.
Me: NO, ASSHOLE, I DO NOT WANT ANY MOTHERFUCKING WINE.
He: Are we a little frazzled today?
Me (less green, less fire): Yes. Are you hungry?
He: No. But if you are let's go ahead and eat. Whatever you want, dear.
Me: I'm not hungry, I just need to keep busy and I need something to put in my mouth.
He (lecherous eyebrows): I could help you out with that...
Me: Do you really want any part of your person anywhere near my teeth right now?
He: I rescind my offer.
*****
Scene 2: 5:30 p.m., Thursday February 25. In the car on the way home, I am trapped by the train.
Me: Hey. Wait. I've got a new complaint. Forever something blah blah blah. Hey. Wait...Seriously? What is up with this train? Mumble, Nirvana, mumble. Seriously. This train is like a thousand miles long. They should put some kind of LIMIT on how LONG the fucking train can be. Especially if they are going to send it through the middle of fucking town at fucking rush hour. Seriously. I have been sitting here FOR-FUCKING-EVER.
I continued in that vain through Jeremy, Use Somebody, and Sabotage before I realized I was screaming obscenities at the train and people were looking at me.
Scene 3: 8:30 p.m., Thursday February 25. I am re-reading Alan Carr's Quit Smoking the Easy Way. Some of this book is quite helpful. It is helpful to think of being glad to stop smoking as opposed to constantly whining about wanting a cigarette. The idea of a positive attitude and the mantra that I do not need to smoke, and reminders about the fact that nicotine does not cure my withdrawal, but rather makes me want more nicotine, these things are helpful.
The idea that I should not use any sort of substitute, like gum or hard candy, is...stupid. So stupid that I threw the book across the room and yelled, "Screw you! I'm very super happy for you that you went from 100 to 0 cigarettes a day with NO PROBLEM. That does not make me feel awful or weak AT ALL. And I am eating this beef jerky instead of smoking a cigarette, and I think that should be OKAY. SO PUT THAT IN YOUR PIPE AND SMOKE IT YOU SMUG ARROGANT CREEP!"
*****
Its weird how the dogs won't come to me and he is avoiding eye contact and not making any sudden moves. I cannot imagine what everyone's problem is.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
The Humans are Dead
I bought these shoes. Yes, the exact shoes in that picture above. If you think they look flashy in the picture, imagine them more. More silver. More shiny. Very, very much more. In fact, they sort of make me look like some sort of human/cylon hybrid. I've had the phrase 'robot feet' stuck in my head all day, and I might have spoken in a robot voice for part of the day. Which might have been embarrassing if that might have happened in front of one of my bosses. When I tried them on last night, my husband said they made me look "special" and I'm pretty sure he didn't mean "special" like a million dollars special. More like "special needs, special services" special.
BUT.
These shoes promised to totally improve my ass, legs, posture, joint health, and abs and they might have even promised to do the dishes and walk the dogs. And since I bought them directly from the sweat shop in Korea, they only cost like $20.00.
So the deal is, you just wear them. To the store, to the gym, just going about your life, and they work miracles. I figure $20.00 doesn't make me too much of marketing martyr if they don't really deliver.
But seriously, these are some freaking ugly shoes.
Monday, February 22, 2010
A Very Important Award
Maria at No One Reads the Copy gave me a very important award. I was supposed to answer these questions with one word. But whatever, I do what I want.
Plus, I quit smoking. If you ask me to follow the rules I'll probably scream at you and then cry a little and then curl up in the fetal position and sing to myself. I'd just let me do what I want. I'm pretty sure yesterday I screamed at my husband for his incessant blinking and breathing, and dear god, MUST you exist over there?!? Ahem.
1. Where is your cell phone? In my purse. Or maybe in my car. Or...somewhere.
2. Your hair? On my head. Curly. Evil.
3. Your mother? Crazy.
4. Your father? Meh.
5. Your favorite food? Donuts. I'm sure I'm supposed to say something that indicates my general sophistication and good taste. But. Donuts.
6. Your dream last night? Technicolor
7. Your favorite drink? Diet Dr. Pepper
8. Your dream/goal? Be self-employed. Run my own environmental consulting business.
9. What room are you in? Cubicle.
10. Your hobby? Reading. Yoga. Running.
11. Your fear? Homelessness.
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Mommy.
13. Where were you last night? Home.
14. Something you aren't? Fancy.
15. Muffins? Sure.
16. Wish list item? Vintage Olympus OM-1 camera.
17. Where did you grow up? Arkansas.
18. Last thing you did? Work.
19. What are you wearing? Jeans, t-shirt, jacket.
20. Your TV? Bigger than any human being needs.
21. Your pets? Wild animals. In fact, I think I need some new ones, since I have ruined these.
22. Your friends? Wild animals.
23. Your life? Rollercoaster-y.
24. Your mood? Cranky.
25. Missing someone? Probably.
26. Vehicle?Volvo
27. Something you're not wearing? Coat.
28. Your favorite store? Goodwill
29. Your favorite color? Green
30. When was the last time you laughed? Before I quit smoking, probably.
31. Last time you cried?Yesterday. During Celebrity Rehab, of all things.
32. Your best friend? 60 miles away.
33. One place that I go over and over? The Used Book Store
34. One person who emails me regularly? No one.
35. Favorite place to eat? Hanna Roo's (sushi)
Also, I think another of the rules was to tag people. Which, we already discussed asking me to follow the rules right now didn't we? DIDN'T WE?
I thought so.
Plus, I quit smoking. If you ask me to follow the rules I'll probably scream at you and then cry a little and then curl up in the fetal position and sing to myself. I'd just let me do what I want. I'm pretty sure yesterday I screamed at my husband for his incessant blinking and breathing, and dear god, MUST you exist over there?!? Ahem.
1. Where is your cell phone? In my purse. Or maybe in my car. Or...somewhere.
2. Your hair? On my head. Curly. Evil.
3. Your mother? Crazy.
4. Your father? Meh.
5. Your favorite food? Donuts. I'm sure I'm supposed to say something that indicates my general sophistication and good taste. But. Donuts.
6. Your dream last night? Technicolor
7. Your favorite drink? Diet Dr. Pepper
8. Your dream/goal? Be self-employed. Run my own environmental consulting business.
9. What room are you in? Cubicle.
10. Your hobby? Reading. Yoga. Running.
11. Your fear? Homelessness.
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Mommy.
13. Where were you last night? Home.
14. Something you aren't? Fancy.
15. Muffins? Sure.
16. Wish list item? Vintage Olympus OM-1 camera.
17. Where did you grow up? Arkansas.
18. Last thing you did? Work.
19. What are you wearing? Jeans, t-shirt, jacket.
20. Your TV? Bigger than any human being needs.
21. Your pets? Wild animals. In fact, I think I need some new ones, since I have ruined these.
22. Your friends? Wild animals.
23. Your life? Rollercoaster-y.
24. Your mood? Cranky.
25. Missing someone? Probably.
26. Vehicle?Volvo
27. Something you're not wearing? Coat.
28. Your favorite store? Goodwill
29. Your favorite color? Green
30. When was the last time you laughed? Before I quit smoking, probably.
31. Last time you cried?Yesterday. During Celebrity Rehab, of all things.
32. Your best friend? 60 miles away.
33. One place that I go over and over? The Used Book Store
34. One person who emails me regularly? No one.
35. Favorite place to eat? Hanna Roo's (sushi)
Also, I think another of the rules was to tag people. Which, we already discussed asking me to follow the rules right now didn't we? DIDN'T WE?
I thought so.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Awesomest Spam I've Ever Gotten
I got this spam in my hotmail account on Valentine's Day. I am still enjoying it. Its like someone decided why not combine a rip-off e-mail with a porn e-mail? And also a little side of ego boost if you're feelin' lonely!
E-Card Message:
Megan,This is difficult for me to do because I'm shy.. but I have a crush on you. I've never been able to tell you for reasons which you would quickly identify as obvious if you knew who this was. [Hey, I can understand that. I'm shy, too.]
With that said, I want you to guess who I am, and approach me yourself.To help you out with your guessing I made a few pictures and videos with ''Megan'' written on my body. [Because you're "shy." That makes sense.]
They're kind of risque photos so I had to make a profile at CAMSPACEONLINE.COM and post them there. I made my username on the site ''MeganandME09''. [I don't think the word shy means what you think it means. Also, 09?]
(It's a free website but you might need a CC or Debit to verify your age because I had to. Sigh.) [Right. They need my credit card number to verify my AGE. Of course.]
But anyway sign up [because I don't get enough free lesbian porn and offers to increase my penis size in my inbox already.] at CAMSPACEONLINE.COM and once you are inside search for ''MeganandME09''. I want you to guess who I am and then approach me yourself. I'm shy and this is the bravest thing I've probably ever done, but you need to do the rest. [Brave enough to post naked pictures with my name on your body...not brave enough to say hi.]
Kisses, Secret Admirer? haha. Bye [I love the question mark. It's like...I am sending you a secret admirer letter, but am I really a secret admirer? Muah ha ha!]
E-Card Message:
Megan,This is difficult for me to do because I'm shy.. but I have a crush on you. I've never been able to tell you for reasons which you would quickly identify as obvious if you knew who this was. [Hey, I can understand that. I'm shy, too.]
With that said, I want you to guess who I am, and approach me yourself.To help you out with your guessing I made a few pictures and videos with ''Megan'' written on my body. [Because you're "shy." That makes sense.]
They're kind of risque photos so I had to make a profile at CAMSPACEONLINE.COM and post them there. I made my username on the site ''MeganandME09''. [I don't think the word shy means what you think it means. Also, 09?]
(It's a free website but you might need a CC or Debit to verify your age because I had to. Sigh.) [Right. They need my credit card number to verify my AGE. Of course.]
But anyway sign up [because I don't get enough free lesbian porn and offers to increase my penis size in my inbox already.] at CAMSPACEONLINE.COM and once you are inside search for ''MeganandME09''. I want you to guess who I am and then approach me yourself. I'm shy and this is the bravest thing I've probably ever done, but you need to do the rest. [Brave enough to post naked pictures with my name on your body...not brave enough to say hi.]
Kisses, Secret Admirer? haha. Bye [I love the question mark. It's like...I am sending you a secret admirer letter, but am I really a secret admirer? Muah ha ha!]
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
It Makes No Sense...I Quit
Cigarettes are not wrapped in paper. They are wrapped in black magic. That's the only explanation.
If I'm tired, I smoke a cigarette to wake up.
If I'm amped up, I smoke a cigarette to calm down.
I smoke a cigarette to stave off hunger pangs.
I smoke a cigarette right after eating, because I'm "too full."
I am a rational, educated intelligent human being. I am fully aware of the risks of cancer, aneurism, arteriosclerosis, emphysema, bad breath, and any number of other health risks.
I feel that I "need" a cigarette, when I can offer no rational explanation for why I "need" to pay thousands of dollars to dump poisons into my body.
I smoke to help me concentrate, but I know that smoking pumps carbon monoxide into my body and actually makes it harder to concentrate.
I say that I smoke because I'm bored, but there is absolutely nothing fascinating about smoking, except maybe for the fact that I still do it and couldn't tell you why for any amount of money.
I say that I smoke because its something to do with my hands. I never needed anything to do with my hands before I started smoking.
So. I am quitting smoking as of February 19, 2002. It might get a little...depressing...around here about that time. But screw it.
I quit.
ETA: I am actually not going back into the past to quit smoking. I'm going to quit smoking in 2010. Although it would rock really hard if I COULD go back into the past to quit...maybe I'll build a time machine. That should keep me from being bored, and give me something to do with my hands. Anybody know where I can get my hands on a DeLorean?
If I'm tired, I smoke a cigarette to wake up.
If I'm amped up, I smoke a cigarette to calm down.
I smoke a cigarette to stave off hunger pangs.
I smoke a cigarette right after eating, because I'm "too full."
I am a rational, educated intelligent human being. I am fully aware of the risks of cancer, aneurism, arteriosclerosis, emphysema, bad breath, and any number of other health risks.
I feel that I "need" a cigarette, when I can offer no rational explanation for why I "need" to pay thousands of dollars to dump poisons into my body.
I smoke to help me concentrate, but I know that smoking pumps carbon monoxide into my body and actually makes it harder to concentrate.
I say that I smoke because I'm bored, but there is absolutely nothing fascinating about smoking, except maybe for the fact that I still do it and couldn't tell you why for any amount of money.
I say that I smoke because its something to do with my hands. I never needed anything to do with my hands before I started smoking.
So. I am quitting smoking as of February 19, 2002. It might get a little...depressing...around here about that time. But screw it.
I quit.
ETA: I am actually not going back into the past to quit smoking. I'm going to quit smoking in 2010. Although it would rock really hard if I COULD go back into the past to quit...maybe I'll build a time machine. That should keep me from being bored, and give me something to do with my hands. Anybody know where I can get my hands on a DeLorean?
Friday, February 12, 2010
A Valentine's Day Letter
Dear Middle-aged Homeless Men of the Greater Metropolitan Area:
Seriously? No.
However, because I am a giver, I have enclosed a list of things that will make it easier for you to pick up women:
1. Shouting "GIVE ME YOUR NUMBER" is not the best approach. The delicate flower you are desperate to shower your romantic attentions on may get the impression that she is being mugged, rather than woo-ed. She may shriek and kick you in the groin, or run away, or some combination of both. This reaction is not conducive to getting your Barry White on, and you should definitely re-think this approach.
2. Try not to approach her as she is handing out bread at the soup kitchen. This is a clear indication that you are homeless. Believe it or not, women are not all that hot to date men without homes. Try playing it a little cooler. Approach her somewhere she might not automatically assume that giving you her phone number will result in either a) you calling from prison because she's the only person you know who might be able to bail you out or b) you appearing in her home and never, ever leaving ala Gil Gundersson.
3. Everyone gets rejected and that's okay. There is someone out there for you. As most 18 year old boys and The Situation from Jersey Shore will tell you, its a numbers game. If you ask enough women one of them will say yes. But if she should reject you, do not follow her and continue to ask for her number, do not expose your genitals in an attempt to entice her, and do not tell her that it doesn't matter if she's married because marriage is not forever. These things will either frighten her or make her angry or both. Again, not the reaction you are going for.
I believe that by following these simple rules you, too, can find love for Valentine's Day. Just not with me because I am an uppity bitch, as the man living on the corner of Broadway and Gaines will tell you.
Sincerely not interested in dating the homeless,
Megs
Seriously? No.
However, because I am a giver, I have enclosed a list of things that will make it easier for you to pick up women:
1. Shouting "GIVE ME YOUR NUMBER" is not the best approach. The delicate flower you are desperate to shower your romantic attentions on may get the impression that she is being mugged, rather than woo-ed. She may shriek and kick you in the groin, or run away, or some combination of both. This reaction is not conducive to getting your Barry White on, and you should definitely re-think this approach.
2. Try not to approach her as she is handing out bread at the soup kitchen. This is a clear indication that you are homeless. Believe it or not, women are not all that hot to date men without homes. Try playing it a little cooler. Approach her somewhere she might not automatically assume that giving you her phone number will result in either a) you calling from prison because she's the only person you know who might be able to bail you out or b) you appearing in her home and never, ever leaving ala Gil Gundersson.
3. Everyone gets rejected and that's okay. There is someone out there for you. As most 18 year old boys and The Situation from Jersey Shore will tell you, its a numbers game. If you ask enough women one of them will say yes. But if she should reject you, do not follow her and continue to ask for her number, do not expose your genitals in an attempt to entice her, and do not tell her that it doesn't matter if she's married because marriage is not forever. These things will either frighten her or make her angry or both. Again, not the reaction you are going for.
I believe that by following these simple rules you, too, can find love for Valentine's Day. Just not with me because I am an uppity bitch, as the man living on the corner of Broadway and Gaines will tell you.
Sincerely not interested in dating the homeless,
Megs
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Pigs EATING HAM. Its just wrong.
Some commercials piss me off to an unreasonable degree.
Have you seen the one for Burger King? The one where some random chick is sleeping and they sneak into her bedroom to prank her? The girl wakes up covered in an unknown sticky, creamy substance with a man in the creepiest mask known to humanity standing over her in the dark. Apparently, making a woman wonder if she's just been sexually assaulted is supposed to make me want a Whopper. Because nothing goes with random acts of perversion like flame broiled beef! If I ever actually ate anything at Burger King, I would totally stop eating there. In fact, it sort of makes me want to be a vegetarian for some reason.
There's one for ProActiv that makes me want to commit random acts of violence. The girl talks about how the breakout of pimples on her face takes the joy out of her life. Really. I mean, REALLY?! Am I supposed to be taking my face that seriously? Because honestly? I don't even remember the last time I LOOKED AT my face, let alone how much breakout was on my face (I know its there, I just don't feel the need to study the EXTENT of it. Because...seriously, do people care that much?) Maybe my face has been totally ruining my life for years now, and I didn't even know it. How much more joyful would my wedding or completing my master's degree have been if it weren't for my face? Damn you, Face.
The one of the frakkin' dirty pigs eating HAM in a restaurant makes me nearly incoherent with rage. I don't even know WHAT they are trying to sell me. I just know PIGS ...blerg, rarrr, argghhh DIRTY mother-, HAM rawr growl ASSHOLES.
These particular commercials make me so angry my husband will automatically change the channel. I know that means he just wants me to rant about them and scream at the t.v. and maybe scare the dogs a little again, because that never gets old. I'm pretty sure its his very favorite thing because he likes how my voice sounds just like Minnie Mouse on helium when I'm angry. And I think we can all agree that that is very, very sexy.
I don't know if the irrational anger means I need some kind of outlet for pent up rage or if maybe I just watch way too much t.v. Probably that second one.
But seriously. The DIRTY PIGS are eating HAM.
HAM!
Have you seen the one for Burger King? The one where some random chick is sleeping and they sneak into her bedroom to prank her? The girl wakes up covered in an unknown sticky, creamy substance with a man in the creepiest mask known to humanity standing over her in the dark. Apparently, making a woman wonder if she's just been sexually assaulted is supposed to make me want a Whopper. Because nothing goes with random acts of perversion like flame broiled beef! If I ever actually ate anything at Burger King, I would totally stop eating there. In fact, it sort of makes me want to be a vegetarian for some reason.
There's one for ProActiv that makes me want to commit random acts of violence. The girl talks about how the breakout of pimples on her face takes the joy out of her life. Really. I mean, REALLY?! Am I supposed to be taking my face that seriously? Because honestly? I don't even remember the last time I LOOKED AT my face, let alone how much breakout was on my face (I know its there, I just don't feel the need to study the EXTENT of it. Because...seriously, do people care that much?) Maybe my face has been totally ruining my life for years now, and I didn't even know it. How much more joyful would my wedding or completing my master's degree have been if it weren't for my face? Damn you, Face.
The one of the frakkin' dirty pigs eating HAM in a restaurant makes me nearly incoherent with rage. I don't even know WHAT they are trying to sell me. I just know PIGS ...blerg, rarrr, argghhh DIRTY mother-, HAM rawr growl ASSHOLES.
These particular commercials make me so angry my husband will automatically change the channel. I know that means he just wants me to rant about them and scream at the t.v. and maybe scare the dogs a little again, because that never gets old. I'm pretty sure its his very favorite thing because he likes how my voice sounds just like Minnie Mouse on helium when I'm angry. And I think we can all agree that that is very, very sexy.
I don't know if the irrational anger means I need some kind of outlet for pent up rage or if maybe I just watch way too much t.v. Probably that second one.
But seriously. The DIRTY PIGS are eating HAM.
HAM!
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