25 more

March 10, 2009 at 4:19 pm (history of meg, life in general, weirdness abounds)

I love factoids, almost as I love a good, random list. I already did the 25 things about me list on Facebook, so for the two of you readers who read that (and thus know my secret identity!) I’m going to make a list of 25 extremely strange and random things about me*. Why? ‘Cause I’ve been stuck in a dark closet with my face glued to a microscope for several days now and I feel like sharing some silly things with the masses instead of stabbing myself in the eye with a slide. You know, typical Meg stuff.

1). I have a weird form of synesthesia where if I touch my eyeball, I taste powdered donuts.

2). When I was in high school I worked at the bowling alley around the corner from my house. I still have nightmares about working there, that I’ll end up having to go back because all my other career options failed. Oddly I never have science-related nightmares, but I still have bowling alley-related ones.

3). When Dr. FianceHusband and I were freshmen in high school, we basically hated each other. We were both the “smart kid” in our biology class, and there’s no room for two smart kids. I made him write in my yearbook and he wrote a big thing about how our torrid affair must end because the circus was calling to him.It was basically a big sarcastic way of saying “I don’t know who you are and I don’t like you.” I totally forgot about him for a year after that.

4). Many of my life choices were made on a whim. For example, when I was a junior in high school I decided I could relate my “love life” to the type of snack I was enjoying- I had been eating poptarts and they were starting to bore me, and really I wanted a Twix. In my teenage brain, this equated to how I was tired of my old, smokey boyfriend and needed to find myself a new, fresh, perhaps caramelly new crush. I looked around my pre-cal class room and settled my eyes on the cutest guy in the room and decided, “Yup, that’s the one.”  That guy was Dr. FianceHusband. He didn’t stand a chance.

5). One of the worst experiences I had in grad school involved having to help clean out a “carcass containment freezer” which was where bodies of big marine animals were “stored” until the naturalist at the school where I went had a chance to look at them. He totally never bothered looking at them, though, and eventually I was drafted to help him clean it out. So, one hot summer day in South Texas, I helped haul the dead and quickly-thawing bodies of sea turtles, dolphins, sharks, and birds into what was basically a mass grave. It was horrible and I had to throw out the three pairs of shoes I wore through that experience because so much goo and ick got into them. Let’s not talk about those nightmares. Nothing screams horror like carcass after carcass of animals that have been rotting on a beach before being thrown in a freezer, that then start to thaw…

6). All of my expensive shoes totally smell like rotting turtle carcasses even though I bought them way after that experience. I don’t know what is up with that.

7). I get asked “what’s your favorite movie” a lot and I am always hard pressed to come up with answer, but I think I’ve finally narrowed it down to Monty Python’s Holy Grail and Beetlejuice

8 ). I am going to go see Spamalot tonight and I am very, very excited. This will be the first Broadway/off Broadway/traveling Broadway/whatever show I’ve ever seen.

9). My brain feels like it’s split into two parts- the thinky part and the back part, which is always either continuously playing some song or telling me horrible things like “i hate kids” that the thinky part then has to shout over.

10). Sometimes the song stuck in my head (the back part, see #9) is so loud that I can’t think.

11). I am totally going to make my own wedding dress and it is basically going to be a long version of a She-ra costume. By which I mean AWESOME.

12). The back, grumpy part of my head doesn’t like people at all but when I ignore it and do go hang with my friends I realize that there is something to the whole “socializing with your peers” thing…

13). I secretly wish I could take my cat with me everywhere. Ok, not so secretly. I totally, openly wish I could take Kiwi with me to work.

14). I talk to myself a lot. I think it might be because the thinky part of my brain thinks the back, grumpy part of my brain is a big jerk who plays her music too loud so they don’t talk. Damn kids. And brain parts.

15). I love cartoons. Not the crap cartoons of my youth, really, but the snarky sarcastic ones of today, such as Flapjack and Venture Brothers and Frisky Dingo. I only wish there were more…

16). When I was a kid my grandpa gave me the soundtrack to the Phantom of the Opera** and I loved the crap out of it. I never actually saw the musical, so I basically made it up in my head to go along with the music. I used to sing it at the top of my lungs on my playground. Needless to say, when I finally saw the movie version I was totally unimpressed- it totally did not live up to the version in my head.

17). I really like watching operas. Most ballets bore the crap out of me. Symphonies make me jealous because I’m not playing in them, unless they have bassoons and then I’m just pissed because bassoons get all the good parts that would otherwise go to the bass clarinets. Suck, double reeds!

18 ). In almost all situations, I’d rather be reading a book. Outside in a hammock, preferably. With a cat on me.

19). Dr. FianceHusband and I have plans to write a series of graphic novels together. Because we are nerds, but creative nerds.

20). Following up on the nerd factor, I totally want our honeymoon*** to be at the San Diego Comicon.

21). The main reason I want to be able to buy a house is so that I can have a yard in which to put a hammock. See #18 for reference.

22). Technically, my name is Megan. Everyone on the planet who is not my dad or brother is supposed to call me that, according to the grumpy part of my brain- my dad and brother call me Meg, and I always refer to myself as Meg. However, the front, thinky part of brain who is not a jerk always tells people that either is fine. Whenever non-my-dad-or-brother people call me Meg, I think it sounds all crazy and weird and both parts of my brain are in agreement that we don’t like it, and yet I never correct anyone. Obviously, I am a crazy freak in this regard.

23). I finally have to deal with the fact that I am, sadly, lactose intolerant. This sucks because I could eat cheese forever. Fortunately there is Lactaid! Unfortunately I discovered that I really am lactose intolerant after making homemade cheese with a friend. Holy crap it was good, but I felt like I was dying a few hours later.

24). Sometimes I get so distracted with all the crap I have to do at work that I forget to go to the bathroom, for, like, 8 hours at a time. I’m always surprised as to why my bladder hurts so much.

25). I might be the only formally trained marine biologist in the universe who basically is terrified of going in the ocean. Not because of sharks or other fish or anything else like that, but because of all the gross, disgusting, neurotoxic micro-organisms that I know live there. Did you know that there is a species of dinoflagellate (a small, single celled alga) that releases a neurotoxin that makes you forget how to read?? That is some serious shit, people. Also, sushi terrifies me because I once saw a talk at a national meeting about all the parasites that live in fish, so screw that. Also I think sushi is slimy. I know that officially makes me uncool but I don’t care. If you need me I’ll be reading a book while you eat your possibly parasite infested, slimy fish.

*some of the things on this list and the original might overlap because I am too lazy to be bothered to go read what I wrote on the other one.

**He gave it to me as a joke, actually, because I would tease him about listening to opera.

***HA! Like we’ll ever take a honeymoon…

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la familia, aka holy shit, batman!

February 17, 2009 at 10:59 pm (history of meg, life in general, thoughts and musings)

So I only just realized that my family is sorta out of control now. As in numbers, not necessarily actions, though there’s that too. For a long time it was just me, my brother and my parents. Sure, there were a couple uncles, one that I like and one that I don’t, who are both married to a teacher named Kay* but one of the Kays is slightly more interesting than the other. Plus a couple cousins here and there, who mostly think I’m either old or crazy or maybe both (damn kids). On the whole, though, eh, no biggie. The only people I’d ever turn to about jabberwocky trees or the AlphaTroll’s lastest weirdness were my parents and brother, and the rest of the relations were only brought up when loots was involved (e.g. xmas, graduations, etc). They remind me of Rabbit’s family and relations from the original Winnie the Pooh stories, who only were brought up in random situations like when Pooh got stuck in Rabbit’s door and stuff. No names, just family and relations.

Then stuff happened. Now there are a million people that I have to make xmas presents for or I feel crazy guilty.

My brother, who for a long time and for reasons that continue to baffle me was apparently a bit of a hot catch (is that what kids say these days? I need a nicer way to say “bit of a manslut”) and had a million zillion girlfriends, is engaged and will be getting married way before me, in that he is getting married this century. The good news is that his lady, Fae*, is pretty cool, and she has a kid already and for some reason that also baffles me want to have my brother’s kids  so screw you, my ovaries! We aren’t having babies! Enough of my genes will be passed down through my brother’s spawn kids, so my plan to have a million animals instead because they don’t curse at you (in English anyway) and you can leave them at home alone for a couple days (with lots of food, duh, don’t get all PETA on me, jerks) with out feeling guilty is GOOD TO GO.  This is good, because instead of saving money to buy a house and cribs and other baby related paraphenalia I tend to spend it on new phones**.

So, dad’s marrying a lady I like, so that’s good. She keeps him in line and reads a lot, so that’s a plus. She has a daughter my age who we will call Steppy because (and this didn’t dawn on me until recently) we’ll be step sisters soon. Steppy also has a kid (not my age unless you divide it by 9), so that means that I have a nephew which means *extra score!* I still don’t have to reproduce. Awesome. Recently, Steppy made big news because she ran off! Just told her husband “Fuck you, buddy!” and took off to Wisconsin for a while (for some reason- maybe cheese? If so, we really are related). Now, everyone*** is freaking out about this piece of family drama but my first and continued reaction is/was “You go, Steppy!” because I don’t like her husband. Also she sorta scares me because she is loud and more (loudly) oppinionated than  me so I basically stand behind anything she does so she doesn’t turn her madness on me.  Mostly the first reason, though. Her husband always struck me as bit of tool.

The boy is totally baffled**** by my reaction to the addition to my likeable-family. See, he’s got a monterously huge family, full of REAL drama, of the stabby/illegitimate kid having/coke snorting boyfriend having variety, but they all count as likeable-family to him, in that he talks to them more often than once a year or so. So me getting two sisters is basically nothing to him, because even though he’s an only child, he and his mom lived with one of her sisters for a while when he was growing up so his two cousins were basically like sisters to him. And I’m not even going to start on how I’m not related to all the people his side of my now massive family. It just gets too complicated.

So now the question becomes, if have two  sisters now, does that actually mean anything? It’s not like I’m social, plus they are off in exotic lands like Portland (Fae) and Cedar Park (which is maybe 20 minutes from Austin but we’ll just pretend it’s in a different universe; plus who knows when she’ll be back from Cheeseland?) so it’s not like we can call each other up and say “hey, let’s get drunk!” or “my apartment is smelly and I’m too lazy to do the laundry, want to go nerd it up in a bookstore with me?” and really do anything. Plus I’m totally not touchy-feeling in a sisterly way, so I don’t even know if I’m supposed to hug them or not…

Man, I just had a serious urge to go nerd it up in a bookstore. By myself. I’ll figure this family stuff out when it becomes more relevant. Like, if they ever bring it up. ‘Cause I’m not going to. ‘Cause I’m a big fan of the “not worrying about it until it’s all up in your face!” philosophy. Awesome.

*names changed because that’s how I roll.

**Holy crap, I just got the Google phone and words cannot describe how freakin’ sweet it is. Except the battery life sucks jabberwocky tree ass.

*** everyone= my dad and his fiancee. Oh, and maybe the husband, though he probably didn’t notice she left ’til, I don’t know, a few days later. See why I say “Go Steppy go!”?

****I have never used the word “baffled” so many times in a post before…

*****This is all this guy’s fault. His devilishly handsome looks and interests relevant to my own (re: boobs, jabberwocky trees) has inspired me to footnote. Plus I don’t get to footnote enough in life, so deal with it.

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i don't like posts like this.

February 9, 2009 at 5:03 pm (history of meg, life in general, rants, reality is not for me, simply flabbergasted, so confused, work shmork)

I cannot stand double talkers. I cannot wait to get out of this job. I cannot handle hypocrites who blame me for their own short comings. I HATE that people try to diffuse their own faults by blaming me for anything and everything they can. I hate that my boss listens to them and not me. I hate that I am overqualified for every fucking job I have applied for. I hate that I am over worked, underpaid, and still cannot make ends meet. I hate rats. I hate the fluorescent bulbs in my office. I hate that I no longer feel comfortable with anyone I work with. I hate people who like to make my business their business. I hate that I have been as transparent as I fucking can be at this job and yet people still do not care to get to know me. I hate that I have been here two years. I hate that I only have a 1 in 5 chance of getting into this teaching program I’m applying for. I hate that someone will probably misinterpret this post. I hate that no one cares. I hate February. I hate that I am ostracized for doing my fucking job. I hate that no matter what I do, the fucking AlphaTroll continues to try to ruin my life. I hate that I can’t stay home with my cats all the time. I hate that the 12th is coming up. I hate that I recognize the 12th for what it is, the day my mom died, instead of forgetting about it all together. I hate that people tell me that they will be somewhere, then are not. I hate the way that my professional life has turned out. I hate that no matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to turn it around.

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tired blog

January 15, 2009 at 11:22 pm (blog-a-day!, history of meg, mom)

We’ve been out all night on a car adventure of the not-so-fun variety (but everyone is ok) so no real post today. Instead, here is another picture of me in 19821-15-2009_006

I’m the little one on the left, though at first glance you wouldn’t know it, right? If you are confused, just look at any picture of me EVER and compare my profile to my mom’s:

noel-highschool-3That’s me in high school… and involves another long story for another day. Sleep time!

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happy meg!

January 14, 2009 at 10:51 pm (blog-a-day!, history of meg, just pure awesome)

I got a negative scanner for myself as a sorry-your-hard-drive-crashed-here’s-something-to-take-your-mind-off-it present. It is freakin’ awesome.

1-14-2009_001
That’s me and my dad in 1982 at the San Antonio zoo, straight from the negative. AWESOME.

PS- today is my and the boy’s 10th anniversary. Happy us!

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interesting mistake

January 11, 2009 at 6:06 pm (art?, blog-a-day!, history of meg)

I was going through some old baby photos and found a printing/processing mistake made by the film processors that actually looks really cool:

11-81
I’m about a month old in this pic. And this is one of only a few pics where you can’t see how chubby a baby I was!

ps- this is my 200th post! Fancy!

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