Happy Birthday (to me)
So today is my birthday.. It is the start of a new decade to my life. My twenties. If it is anything like my teens a lot will happen, and I will develop breasts.

This Explains It...

This makes perfect sense, I mean where else would Monica's thong be? Before I read this article I would have just thought that thongs don't randomly appear in the circulatory system, but I would have been wrong. I can freely admit that now, underwear do randomly appear in arteries. Thank you, Weekly World News. Thank you for opening up my eyes.

Now with Unicycle
I arrived home late last night, made my calls to friends in order to make sure they knew I was home safe, then opened the door to my room with the intent on getting into the bed and never waking up (until it was time to go to Ikea). That is when I saw it, leaning up against my exercise bike in all it's one-wheel glory. My parents had got me the unicycle I so very much desired. I immediately went back to the phone and called my friends (again) and told them the super news. They were almost excited as I was.
A unicycle... Now all I need to do is learn how to ride it and then I am well on my way to my dreams as a pan-handler. Well, after that all I need to do is learn how to juggle, and then from there I will switch from juggling balls to juggling sharp knives or things that are on fire. How hard can it be? Naturally, because I am so realistic, I will learn all this over the long weekend so that I can go back to school and 'wow' people. Surely one can learn how to ride a unicycle, juggle balls, flames, and sharp knives in the span of four days. (I just want you to know that I am aware that I will not really learn how to do all this in four days, that would just be crazy... but five days is a different story. By the way, this should not detract from the rest of my post at all since we all know if it's in parenthesis it does not count)
So anyway, since I will not actually be partaking in turkey (I am a vegetarian), I will use the time that I would be doing turkey stuff to learn how to ride the unicycle.

I may have dropped the ketchup, but I didn't drop the ball
Today, due to excessive clumsiness (I blame genetics); I dropped an economy sized container of ketchup on the floor. It broke without a doubt because God hates me. The economy sized ketchup bottle left an economy sized puddle of ketchup on my economy sized kitchen floor. After I finished crying (it wasn't so much crying as it was whining, I was really looking forward to having ketchup on my veggie dog), I cleaned up the puddle lake of ketchup, but not before sticking my hand in it. Lucky for me the ketchup sticks out well so I will not have to worry about missing spots like I did when I dropped the container of mayonnaise on the floor last year.

I thought it would be bigger
Today my mom told me that she doesn't think my dog is going to get any bigger.
"No, he will get bigger." I said.
"I'm not so sure about that. I mean, he doesn't seem to be growing." She told me.
"He is only four months old, mom.. He's going to get bigger..." I am determined to have a large dog. I would really like it if my dog would grow. I mean, I don't want him to be Clifford big (read: big red dog, who is larger than a house), but I would like him to be big. Not that I wouldn't like a dog who is larger than a house.. I could ride that dog to school.. And sell advertising to go on his sides. But really, do I have enough money to feed a dog that big? Probably not. I would imagine that he'd eat a lot, and I am a student. I just don't see that working out well.
Plus, what if the dog wasn't really paying attention, and then he stepped on someone. I know I would feel bad, and I would say, 'Bad dog!' But he probably wouldn't know what he'd done wrong. Then he would look very sad and I would say, 'Go to your cage!' But then, how big of a cage would I need? It would have to be pretty big.. And I would probably not be strong enough to close the door.
All in all, dogs that are bigger than houses are probably a bad idea.

A Conversation With My Mother

Just so you know, for when I get lazy, what my mama says is in italics.

"Ugh.. It smells like ass in here..." I say.
"How do you know what ass smells like?" She responds.
"Do you really want to hear the answer to that, or was it just a rhetorical question?" I ask her.
"Well, I'm just saying that you don't have any basis for comparison." She tells me.
"Not that you know of." I tell her.
"Well.. I'm just saying..."
"And I'm just saying, that for all you know, I could be handing out the rim jobs."
"What's a rim job?"
"I feel that, after the whole 'pearl necklace' incident, you should just look that up on the internet.. That's what it's for.. to look up sexual-related terms that your daughter doesn't want to explain to you."
"Well, I sometimes need to know things like that for my courses."
"Mom, I do not know what kind of fucked up psych courses you are taking, but if knowing the definition of a rim job is a pre-requisite.. I suggest you switch courses."
"Just use it in a sentence."
"Okay, fine. My name is Megan, and despite what my mother thinks, I do not hand out rim jobs."
"That didn't help me. Use it in another sentence."
"My mother wants me to give her the definition of what a rim job is, and that makes me uncomfortable."
"Use it one more time."
"In order to pay for tuition this year, I may be forced to give out rim jobs in exchange for money."
"You are not being particularly helpful, Megan..."
"Then my job here is done. If you need me, I will be downstairs explaining to Jamie (a.k.a. my little brother) what a rim job is."
"You are a smart ass."
"I am not sure how healthy your obsession with asses is, Mom..."

Pictures of my beautiful car

This is Charly.. Charly is a 1974 Volkswagen Westfalia Weekender

Charly is, in my opinion, a beautiful car. I fully admit that I am biased being that Charly is my car, but that is hardly the point...

Sometimes Charly back-fires, and I get embarrassed because it is almost like he is a little gassy or something. Although, this one time he was shooting fire out of his tail pipe, and that would have been pretty neat if I hadn't been so sure I was going to die.

This is the inside (back) of Charly.. Please note the painted ceiling (I did that myself), and how the bench folds into a bed.. Just what every father wants for his teenaged daughter.

I hope you love my car as much as I do.. If you don't, pretend, I don't really care about sincerity..

Why I gave a seven-year-old boy the finger
Sometimes, little kids and I do not get along. I think it is probably because we are both very childish, and they seem to be under the impression that I am an adult. What little kids need to realize is that how old you are has nothing to do with whether or not you are an adult. Over the years, this 'problem' I have with some little kids has caused me to do such things as come running out of my house in order to chase them away from my leaf pile.. I was the one who raked the lawn, I was the one who made the giant pile, so I am sure as hell going to be the one to jump in that mother fucking pile - not some little kid who lives down the street from me, and obviously does not realize that it is rude to run onto someone else's lawn and jump in their hard earned leaf pile.
Today, my clashing with a child lead to me giving him the finger - but I can explain.....
I was sitting, politely, in one of my dad's work trucks. We were on our way to a park so that I could take a picture of my dad with his truck for the yellow pages. I was also enjoying a brownie blizzard (yes, that now brings my brownie blizzard consumption up to two!), and was generally just minding my own business. That is when we came to a stop at a traffic light. Now, I am inquisitive by nature, so I began to look around at the other cars. That is when I saw him... This blonde haired boy, roughly seven years old. He looked at me and proceeded to stick out his tongue. First I was shocked, why would he just stick his tongue out at me? I had never done anything to him... But I was not going to be out done by a seven-year-old just because I was confused as to what his motives were, so I stuck my tongue out at him and scrunched up my face. To my utter shock and dismay, he began to sign the official ASL sign for 'asshole' and pointed at me. 'Fuck that!' I thought, 'I will give him some sign language of my own.'
And so, I gave him the finger, and that is when the light turned green, and that is when my dad accelerated, and that is when that little boys parents looked at me like I had just run down their dog.
'Are you proud of yourself now?' You may think. 'Does this make you feel like a big person?' You may also think. The answer to that question is simple, yes, it does.

Too much free time, or.. How I spent my Saturday night...
I am so pleased with my dog right now. I am pleased because he is only 3 months old, and already he can sit still long enough for me to subject him to numerous forms of 'entertainment' (for myself).

The following are pictures of my dog and his dramatic makeover... Well, maybe not dramatic, but it's a good start.


He is so naive... Playing with his can... (which happens to be the only way that I can get him to stay still long enough for me to take a picture that shows how much he's grown)


'I know that look... What are you planning on doing now?' He thinks, as he stares at me, judging... Always judging...


'Please... No... Anything but that...' He begs, but I am without mercy.


'Come here!' I tell him, not really giving him a choice.


As many paws as I could fit in one picture...


It is a work of art... Beautiful colour. It complements his colouring wonderfully...


'How could you do this to me?' He questions.


What he does with his new found beauty...

He is lucky that he's fairly dark colours.
My parents dog, Bailey, is blonde... but he has been red, purple, blue, and hot pink. My mom says that 'colouring' the dog's fur is cruel, but I say if he sits still enough for the manic panic (the dye I used, which does not create any fumes or burning sensation.. I know because I once used it on myself) to set then he is only getting what he deserves. Just like if Bailey sat still long enough for me to give him a David Bowie Labyrinth inspired hair cut, it's his own fault.

Another excerpt from my second grade journal...

So I gather that I went to a corn roast... I'm sure that was super. And I saw Brianne at said corn roast (she was one of my friends in grade two)... But I'm a little confused about the smelling bat part. What do bats smell like? And how did I know that I had smelt one, considering I am relatively sure that I have no basis of comparison for the scent of a bat. What I do know about bats is this... Their saliva is made up of three main ingredients to keep blood flowing, anticoagulants (to stop the clotting), something else that stops the red blood cells from sticking together, and another thing that stops the veins from constricting near the site of the wound. I also know that as soon as vampire bats begin to feed (on blood), they begin to urinate. It's because blood is primarily made up of water, and thus they need to rid themselves of the excess water in order to get the proper amount of nutrients they need.

I remember things like this but ask me anything about the classes this year and I probably couldn't tell you anything..

I live in a freezer
My room is so cold that it could easily be used as a meat locker. Actually, I vaguely recall spooning up to a shank of beef this morning before my father came and got it so that he could cook it for lunch.
As soon as it snows in here I plan on building an igloo. Maybe I'll turn on the sink later and flood the floor so I've got a nice skating rink.
I'd been losing weight for inexplicable reasons this summer, but I think I've figured it out now. My body spends so much time trying to warm itself up that I'm burning calories like crazy.
So as I turn on the tiny space heater I have purchased as a safety precaution (so that I don't lose any body parts to frostbite), I will think warm thoughts, and pray that a warm front moves into my room (which will probably, unfortunately, result in some sort of thunderstorm... but I'm willing to risk that).

I have fleas
My whore dog has given me fleas.
Now, as I have been informed by several of my friends, my dog more than likely got fleas from being outdoors during flea season (which starts around April or may and goes until October), as opposed to getting them from trolling the neighborhood for tricks (like I may have suggested).
But now I sit here in my room scratching at my ankles because apparently the fleas that have made there way into my room have decided that I am a suitable meal.
I do not see why I should have to get fleas just because my dog has them. I gave him a flea bath. I put those stupid drops between his shoulder blades, just like I was supposed to. And how does he repay me? By passing the fleas around to every other animal in our house faster than you can say, 'the clap'.
Well, I hope you are happy dog. I hope this makes you feel good. Do you feel like a big dog now that you've caused our house to be infested with fleas? Huh? Do you?
Now, I'm not saying I'm angry with you, dog. I'm just disappointed.

Ironically, I became an English major...

I think I might have been a little developmentally challenged as a child. I can make out what about half of this journal entry (from when I was in the second grade), but after the 'We Too are dog' (which I assume is supposed to say, 'We took our dog') I am at a loss.  

Under Construction
I have decided to build a dog house for my dog. If all goes well, it will look like this:

Hopefully the real thing will be more sturdy looking, less squiggly looking...

I hope that it will have a more defined bottom, a thicker roof, and a better opening.

And if all goes well it will also look more like a dog house, and less of a shanty.

 

Original Artwork By Megan, Entitled: My Left Arm
 

This is my left arm, which I scanned (using my scanner/printer) and have labeled so that the bruise on my arm is very easily identified. I think the whole thing is a work of art, its beauty makes me want to cry. It speaks to me in ways that nothing ever has, whispering, "Life is confusing (read: the reason why I get such a big bruise after I have blood taken is confusing), and not easily classified or categorized (hence my problem with the whole 'inner armpit or inner elbow' confusion). But it is full of colour, and people (eg. me) who have too much time on their hands." 

The one in which I post somewhat blurry pictures of my dog...

This (as you can probably tell) is my puppy. I figured that the pictures are long overdue since I've had him for over a month now.

Puppy Love
So I bought myself a puppy. I bought myself a puppy under the pretense that my other dog was so lonely since we'd had to put his counter part to sleep in October.
So far he is cocky in that he barks at other living things that are far larger than he is, he has a tendancy to naw (hard) on anything that is living. And finally, he won't sleep for more than half an hour at a time.
I feel like I've got a baby on my hands, which I guess I do, but thankfully (for my sake) soon he'll be house broken, and soon he'll be able to roam the house as he pleases and will leave me to sleep peacefully through the night.