Update on the Karma

Where to begin...

First of all, all three of you should really start checking out Mark Titus's 'Club Trillion' blog. Greatest. Blog. Ever. (Sorry Higgy. Still have your Snuggie if you want it.) It has inspired me to pack my posts with visuals. Hope you like it.

Second of all, I only cried once this Christmas, and it was over something relatively dumb. I'm proud. Most Christmases end up with me pouting in my room, not unlike a 5 year old. However, the difference between said 5 year old and myself - present disappointment vs. familial disappointment.

As previously discussed, my sister is a little bit of a bitch. After the description she so vividly painted for my friend a few weeks ago, we're not on such great terms. Therefore, when P, my crush from like 6th grade, was invited to the house on the night of Christmas Eve, I made sure she was grounded to her room. We haven't seen each other in about 10 years, give or take some months. Pretttttttttttty sure he would beat it (and not in a good way) if there was a bomb like that dropped on him on his first visit since the nineties. Problemo numero uno avoided-io(?).

Problemo numero dos - my stepfather. Once again, this was touched on in the previous post. His stories about me are appalling. I not only look like that revolving door, but also makes it appear that I am world's dumbest (insert title here). Not cool. One of the examples: I was driving to work when I was 16 in my mom's van when I noticed something felt funny. Well, I had money to make, and I had 8 miles to go, so did you think I pulled over to check it? No. Sooo much easier to just ignore it and keep going. I didn't have a cell phone, so me checking would involve me asking someone for help. Help is for losers, and as I am clearly not one, my ass kept movin. Well, big mistake. The funny thing I noticed happened to be a flat tire. Okay, maybe not flat. More like shredded. I know you just looked at that and thought, nah, "Meg's exaggerating, it was probably more like this". I kid you not, friend. I did indeed shred the damn thing to the point that the picture illustrates. Too bad my step dad is never allowed to read this blog, he'd be thrilled with my illustration... Okay, back to the story - I get to work, park, and assess the damage. I call my step dad saying specifically "I have a flat". He curses at me over the phone. Not a great start. He comes over to the parking lot (mind you it's mid-January) in his Carhardts and immediately freaks the fuck out. So much so that I didn't even get a lecture. Just the silent treatment. I'm very worried at this point. Verbal assault would be much more welcome. I decide to egg him on a little. Great idea. I lean out the window and yell, "How bad is it?". I got all the yelling I needed to feel comfortable with my situation. And then some. He tells this story every opportunity he gets. Which, is apparently a lot given lil sis's cute comments. In light of this, and so many other stories step-daddy has on hand, I asked him to keep quiet upon P's visit. He agreed.

Problemo numero tres - my brother. He scheduled himself to work 5p-5a Christmas Eve. Quick crisis aversion.

I am set. I invite P to come over after dinner. He stops in, talks to the parents for a hot minute, and we quickly scurry downstairs to watch Elf. Alone. In my parent's basement. How cool am I right about now? So it is all I dreamed it would be and so much more. I know, I know, this blog is supposed to be about you feeling better about yourself for reading my life failures. Well, too bad this time, I hope. It was not one ounce of awkward, not even a drop. We even made out. How pumped am I? No, nothing else, thank you, this was the first date. I usually try to keep things clean until at least the second date, unless I'm drunk. (Kidding, kidding, kidding... mostly.) The next night - Christmas - we go to the movies. Another fantastic time. This actually counts as a date. First one since fooooooooooorever. People don't date anymore. P is obviously a keeper. Oh, and he held all the doors for me!! Without me awkwardly waiting for him to do so! (Germaphobe.) Last night I met his family, again, and it was amazing. I've never had such a smooth conversation with a guy's parents. I could have passed out at the dining room table if I weren't confident it would leave the situation much more awkward than I would care for. I also went out with his friends and didn't make an ass out of myself. I'm sold. We have date 4 today at some point. I'm feeling shockingly confident.

Now let's get back to what this blog is really about - disappointment. P was the cool kid who was five years older than me. Also, P is highly successful at his job, and not awkward in the least. Also a fabulous dresser. And he's dating me. I am positive I do not have a sparkling personality. If anything, I am sarcastic and cynical enough for 3 people. I haven't been able to control this quality with the utmost grace, so I think he has an idea I can be relatively negative (yeah, I know, relatively is a stretch.) Also, I was such a dork when he met me. Hooooow can he erase that image from his head so quickly? Also - I am no Carmen Electra. Obvi. Any guesses here peeps? What should I prepare myself for here? Ughh the agony of a successful relationship...

Karma? Not sure which way it's going though...

To be perfectly honest, I think after my past 18 months I deserve a normal relationship. You know, where jobs and honesty are involved with both parties. I've had plenty of time to decide where guilt should be placed from these past catastrophes and it's not with me. That being said, let's look at what's happened in the few days:

Thursday night I watched The Office and posted a quote as my status on Facebook. Next thing I know I get a comment from a guy I was in 4-H with when I was like 12 (I'm 23, do the math). We haven't talked since then, and I'm pretty sure I was way too awkward to say anything to him when I did know him because he was 4 years older than me, 5 in school-age, making him way cooler, and way more mature. Anyways, I comment back already insecure he's remembered even one outfit my mom squeezed me into back then. Oh yeah, um, there's also this photo posted on Facebook for his viewing pleasure... YIKES. Yeah, this would have been taken when he was in my life. (I should be insecure.) Okay, so whatever, I write him back all excited, because I mean 6th grade crushes die hard, okay? Well, he ends up getting my SN on AIM and we chat on there, and then we decide to meet up the day after Christmas. (He lives like 8 hours away... Figures.) Okay, this is only Saturday now. HUGE progression in 2 days. My hopes are way up.

Sunday comes around, and I get a phone call. A PHONE CALL FROM MY 6TH GRADE CRUSH!!! Whatever you haters, I'm a girl. It happens. Okay, so I maintain, I think, and I think I'm a great success on the phone. :D

I text him a lot on Monday because I'm home and home doesn't have technological advances to allow for internet access. And then my friend (the text proposer, yeah, I know, I deserve what happens now) comes over to talk to my brother about college. While he's there, P is texting me about his company party in D.C.. I'm feeling great, until my sister decides to start her 17 year old shit stirring. What would pop out of her mouth but: "Megan, you have a text! It's from a boy." Now she turns to The Amazing Texter: "Megan had so many guys over here in high school. She's dated, like, everyone. It was crazy." Back to me: "Oh, and what happened to that guy you met at the bar you were just talking to?" HOLY HELL. Oh yeah, she did that. I could kill her. Not that Texter means anything to me, I'll even fully admit I never should have had him over, regardless of my brother's educational state. But wow. I'm now blown away. I say nothing and just give her the "you just wait til he leaves" stare because tearing your sister's limbs off in front of company is just rude. *.*. replies, "She did NOT date everyone, because she never gave me a chance." At this point, I feel my reputation still has a little bit of decency left to it... Whatever, P calls again that night and life is good again.

Tuesday: Mom gets home from work and sister, Mom and I are sitting in the kitchen when I mention B's little antics last night. Mom's horrified and mock's B's comment: "Hey *.*. - my sister's a slut!" Thanks, Mom. You're really helping. After my look of anguish, Mom allows me full reign of hurtful comments to B's next 'love'. (I'll wait til she's about 23, when she stops making these ridiculous mistakes she calls boyfriends, much like her sister.) I'll probably mention something about the emo stage she's currently in and probably bring a picture of this Elvira hair cut she's rocking. ;) I text *.*. and let him know that she's in trouble, and I'm sorry for that display of white-trash culture. Who cares, it's probably Karma's way of getting him out of my life ASAP, although I could have thought of less hurtful ways... Now here comes the sticky part: P is staying in town an extra 3 days to hang out. Um, that means a serious performance for 3 days, and making sure I don't have word vomit happen, which is likely the case. Also, I don't know what the hell I was thinking, but I invited him over to my house. WHAT THE HELL IS MY PROBLEM?!?!?! MY SISTER JUST CALLED ME A SLUT IN FRONT OF THE LAST GUY!!!! Please refer to my header of this freakin blog... Yeah, it looks freakin great right now, stuff movies are even made of (leaving out the sister bit), but I bet it's just so I get my hopes up about as high as they can go, just so I invite him over like a moron, my sister says some horrigying comment about something I didn't even do or know about, I blunder and he beats it out of there like a bat out of hell - appropriate label here.

Today: called my mom to tell her P's coming over next week and we're having a family meeting a day before to go over some ground rules. Some thoughts so far:

1. No stories. Especially not ones that involve my so-called incompetencies. Crazy in new relationships needs dished out over years, not days.
2. No bodily functions in front of P. My brother thinks he's Larry The Cable Guy half the time, this is unacceptible on so many levels...
3. No sister. What a friggin bitch. She doesn't get to come out of her room around my company until she's 25.
4. Stepdad MUST appear as if he adores me. We don't get along in front of company 90% of the time and he always makes fun of me and makes me look like I need a helmet. This is probably not attractive to normal guys, so I think I'll give him a script.
5. No stories, no stories, no stories... Ughh. Last boyfriend got about 3 hours worth in one day.

I'll get back to you on the 29th to let you know if I still stake ownership to my family or if I've killed myself dramatically displaying my discontent. :)

Wine: Evil or Cheap Fun

I woke up at eight am shocked to hell. I had no idea where I was or how I got there. Eight am..... I'm the lightest sleeper in the world and I can't sleep in new places. I slept til eight this morning though...?

How I got there:

So I'm broke. Like, flat broke. So, I put aside a $20 and decided I was going to buy a big ol' bottle of vodka with it. Turns out Ohio doesn't think you can have responsible fun with liquor after 9 pm so instead I got a huge bottle of Chardonnay. I have $5 left over! This is super! AND I don't have to get like lemonade or orange juice to mix it! GREAT.

I go and pick up Jack Black and his roommate. They were already drunk. They make cracks about the cleanliness of my car as we make our way over to Dirty Bird's. (Jack Black got wasted back in October and destroyed about 2 dozen cookies on my backseat. He hasn't cleaned it, and I don't plan on it.)

We get to Dirty Bird's and Jack is already in cheerleading shorts. Visually offensive. I verbalized my thoughts. They went to go drink with the girls above me who would appreciate his indecency more so than I. I've opened my wine, so I'm good, let them go, I've seen enough.

They get back about 30 minutes later, well, the roommate came back and forwarned me. I couldn't care less. I'm already wayyyyyy down on my wine. I am solidly satisfied with my buzzed state now.

They get back and we discussed options for the night. (The plan was for me to ambush Dirty and Jack with our friend Skipper at a nearby bar. Turns out girls can't be friends with guys without sex involved. Who knew?)

We decided (okay, they... I was just drunk by then) that we should head to Little Bar. Super! I love bars!

We get to the bar. One of the guys got me a beer. Like I needed that.

Now this is where it gets blurry. I know there was a girl more drunk than myself at the bar, and I feel good about that now.

I guess we went back to Dirty's. I guess I was wayyyyyyyy to drunk to drive. I know I borrowed a T and sweats from Dirty and passed out. What else happened? Not real sure. I would like to believe that I was incredibly polite and mannerly. My instincts know better.

Dirty woke up when I gasped with horror and told me nothing useful. Thanks, ass. Does he not know the friend code? You're there to laugh about your stupidity the next morning, not to blanket it from you. Like Mrs. Turtle who is amazing about highlighting the best and worst of my nights - like when I puked down the side of her car while she was driving. No blanket statements of "you were fine" from her. This only leads me to believe I was so much of an idiot that it shouldn't be discussed at all.

In conclusion, my wine costed me $14.61 at the Kroger by my apartment. Worth it? Maybe if I were out with Skipper or Mrs. Turtle - the lovely gals that would be happy to let me know how I met the criteria of a fuckin moron. With people that I don't trust with my three-year-old logic? Absolutely not. I really can only hope that I didn't suffer from word vomit or some other drunk girl ailment I don't even want to consider. Hopefully these little incidents would be noteable by Dirty the next day given they happened... :/

Quick and Painless Post

K, TBS is the new comedy channel right? They asked us to tell their researchers what's funny a while back. Well, MOST of the things they put on the channel is admittedly humorous - Family Guy, Friends, Roast of Cheech and Chong wasn't totally garbage. Sooooo... this leads me to my question for the genius that pulled this gem out of their hat: Who the hell decided Anaconda was funny?!?!?! Okay, so I smile on occassion while viewing, but it's mostly because of the horrible acting and the fact that the dialogue actually echoes when they're outside. This movie had to have cost about $10,000 to do. Good commercials are about that much, so I think my estimate's fair. So, again, what the hell is Anaconda doing on TBS besides pissin me off? Yeah, I should be in bed, but whatevs, I was hoping for something friggin sweet, and intentionally funny, like Super Troopers. Okay, even Employee of the Month would be better. Jeezzzz Ted, we're in a recession but puh-lease pull it together for the poor college kids.

Only would happen to me.

For fun, let's reiterate two of the funnest stories I've had told to me while checking people out at my retail jobs:

At the grocery store I worked at in high school I asked a woman how she was doing today (standard, as you know), and the response I got was, "Oh, terrible. Just terrible. Our house burnt down last week and we're staying with friends. We lost everything. The only things I have that belong to me are in my car..." Yeah, you want to know what I was doing I as I heard this?? - loading her car. I could not help but check out her digs, and let me tell you, sparse. Verrrrry sparse. Like three shoes. Not pairs, shoes. (Scarred into my mind.) Try to say something comforting to a day like that...

The latest addition: I was at work tonight at Hallmark (you will see this is important), and this man came up that's a pretty regular customer. He would come in all the time when I worked there before (2 years ago) and buy a lot of sappy cards for his girlfriend. I kind of knew she was chronically ill, so when he said he was getting three cards for her this year, I asked how she was doing. :'( Saddest response ever: "Not good, not good at all actually." Okay, so I can't remember verbatim what happened after that, but the sum of the story was that she can only eat organic foods because her body can't process most chemicals. Welllll over the summer she was at a cookout, ate a friggin hot dog, and now she's on her death bed. Yup, a hot dog. We all knew they were probably deadly. Well, it only gets worse. They already had a few surgeries scheduled for her after Christmas to deal with the chronic illness present prior to deadly weiner, now they don't know if she'll make it to the dates, let alone survive them. Also, sadder yet, they had just discussed marriage for the first time over the summer, because her health was turning around. :''( Yeah, they are/were going to get married in Ireland next year. But, obviously it's not looking good for that plan. So, this is where he starts crying. Granted, this guy is probably the most sensitive guy in the world on a normal day, but now this?? This guy has either found the true love of his life, or is seriously a glutton for punishment. Oh, forgot to mention - SHE LIVES IN CANADA. Yeah, and that's right, he lives in Columbus. This is the only customer I've ever dreamt of hugging. After all of my little stunts, I kind of think looking him sending him a Christmas card can only help our cases at this point.

I'm going to go watch The friggin Notebook now and cry myself to sleep.

Text Generation - Revisited

A text I received today:

From: *.*. *****

Realy good. I was just wondering if. u would marry me.
Dec 5, 1:38 pm

(The 'realy good' was in response to my "hey, how are you doing".)

Yeah, this was ten hours ago, and I still haven't gathered my thoughts enough to post more than the message...

I'll get back to this at a more... clear... time.

WTF?!?!?!

Okay, it's time to get back to this.

Um, this was a kid I graduated with from high school. Also notable: he has a girlfriend (this is the least of my concerns at the moment). In response to the text, I (as any sane person would do) laughed and said "Sure, how's next week for you." Yeah, little did I know, he was serious. He then continue to profess his undying love for me and said that he just wanted to have one chance with me to see if it were really meant to be. Let me just state that I met this character in sixth grade. When I was like, 12. We're 23 now. How does this realization, no no, delusion just pop up over night????? Alright, back to the facts. Later in the conversation I said I needed to go cook something for dinner, which led to my skill set, which somehow brought upon a downright disturbing sexual comment. In telling Higgy about this little comment, I called *.*. a 'sexual deviant'. Higgy then explained to me a sexual deviant only does freaky freaky things. The term I was looking for was most likely 'sex predator' - one who would likely be arrested for his/her sexual exploits. I'd have to agree. You just don't text those things to a girl you haven't seen in 4 1/2 years. You just don't, not unless you have plans for much worse. Also, I would just like to try to maintain SOME of my reputation here by stating that I did nothing to bring on this comment. I was litterally discussing cooking chicken, then BAM, here's some delinquint text on my phone. I probably shouldn't have deleted that one for evidence sake when they pick him up for loitering by the local high school... or middle school for that matter. But yeah, he doesn't know where I live anymore so when I go home next week I'll most likely be able to avoid him.

... do I have some sign tattooed on me or something?? Good God.