You know what?

I'm not so sure I like this commenting thing.

Short and Sweet, just how you like it

The difference between David and I as writers:

Meg: "Well, I enjoyed the storyline of Cry The Beloved Country, but the prose was very sparse, and I had to get used to that before I could really appreciate it."
David: "I think the style of prose was excellent. I liked the way instead of the "he said", "she said" format for dialogue, he used dashes, and it was all there in those little paragraphs."

Chuck Palahniuk, eat your heart out.

p.s. There IS a reason it's called "Meandering."

Straighttalk from a longtalker

Ok, we'll say, maybe once a week. How does that sound, guys? Meg will post once a week. If Meg posts more than once a week, you are LUCKY. If she posts less than once a wake, you shake your head in sorrow at the Meg-deprivation.
All right, I think that says that. On to business:

Just read Michael's blog again. He has a terribly sad story about meeting a lovely girl and not persuing her. But I think, if I were in the same position as he (only with a lovely guy) I wouldn't have persued it either because there is something beautiful in knowing that somewhere out there, (before any of the arguments and troubles and incombatibilities that come with actually having a relationship entail) there is someone that matches you almost perfectly. And maybe, when you lie in bed awake at night thinking of that person. Maybe, just maybe, they are thinking of you.

Why no, I'm not a romantic. Why, pray tell, do you ask?

I was going to blog about David Ivancic entering my Creative Writing class and how I feel about it, but I don't feel like writing, so I am going to sum it up in a few sentences.

David Ivancic is an incredible writer. I have never read anything he has written, but somehow I am certain of this.
David Ivancic is the only person in the world that makes me feel inferior. There is something in his demeanor that shakes me to the core and makes me nervous and silly and act like an idiot. I cannot look him in the eye.
David Ivancic makes me self-conscious because he appears utterly self-confident.
David Ivancic is not aware of any of this.

Goodbye relaxing writer's workshop, hello high-pressure competition.
Realized Tori writes better than me.
Depressing.
Gosh, this is a down post. I'm leaving before it gets worse.

I console myself with this: Mr. Graham has chosen ME, yes ME, ME ME ME ME ME to look over and read his unpublished book.
Surely there must be a literary component to this.
Oy.
-Meg

Yes

There is an international rule that when testing out things on the blog, one must post multiple, multiple times. Dang it, my blood sugar is low again. I can tell this because my fingers are tripping on the keys, and I don't remember where the letters are.
-Meg

Test

Testing. Again.
-Meg

Testing. Because I want commenting.

If this doesn't work I'll give Han or Michael my secret password ad make them fix them template and put links in while their at it.
Stupid technology.
Leave me alone in a room full of old books and I'd be MUCH HAPPIER.
-Meg

For everything, turn turn turn

School has started again. Updates will be more irregular and less brilliant. Not that they were brilliant to begin with.
More when everything settles down.
Tori is lovely.

-Meglet.
p.s. I am taking a creative writing class! She forces me to write! YES!

Updates, in back-blog style

Gatekeepers are special, too
A few days ago (I told you this was a back-blog) I was driving with my uncle to his house to babysit his kids. I was not driving myself because my Saturn is a pile of metal and my dad doesn't have the guts to spend money for a new one yet. Anyway, as we rounded one corner of some street, I saw a bunch of huge trucks lines up in a row, about eight of them, all with their hazard lights on. And my uncle says, "Well, I guess someone forgot to open the gate this morning." And then I remembered that every OTHER time I had rounded that corner of that particular street, I had sub-conciously noticed a bunch of huge trucks lined up in a large parking lot. I looked at the gate. It was a really dinky little gate, made of iron or steel and painted black. Anyone could have easily climbed over it. Come to think of it, one of the trucks could have probably MOWED over it, but I guess that wasn't what they wanted to do. My overactive imagination had a field day with this situation. Perhaps the gatekeeper, an old, crochety man with the only key to the padlock, had gotten sick and tired of having his important work looked over. He probably woke up in the morning and thought:
HEY! Nobody appreciates me! Every morning I get up at the crack of dawn to unlock this dinky little gate for these huge trucks with their hick drivers, and nobody ever EVER stops to thank me. Well, SCREW THAT. Today I am sleeping in, and they will see how well they do with out me.
Turns out, that because of this (imagined) act of defiance, traffic was backed up for quite a ways, and many morning routines were thrown haywire. (I'm sorry, sir, I WOULD have been to work on time, but for some readsn there were 8 trucks sitting on the road, and I just couldn't get PAST them)
Everyday we get the paper.
Once a week, our trash is taken.
Everyday our schools and workplaces are cleaned and locked.
Everymorning they are unlocked and opened.

Thank God for the gatekeepers, who keep everything running smoothly while saying nothing at all.

Paging The Master of Horror
A few days ago (time means nothing to me, especially in the summer) Kel and I went to Walgreens to pick up some bobby pins and sour tangerine altoids (drool.) While we were walking the aisles, we heard over the PA system:
(crackle, pop) Christopher Walken, your prescription is ready. Mr. Walken, your prescription is ready.(crackle pop)
Kel and I stopped dead in our tracks, and looked at each other.
"Did you just hear..."
"Yeah.."
"Weird."
"Definately."
You just have to wonder what kind of medicine is being filled...

Gorilla Man
Also a few days ago (few, couple, several) I went to the zoo. While I was there, Kel and Jaime and I stopped by the gorilla exhibit. (
"cage" is so archaic) There, we saw a man in a black shirt and gray shorts. He was staring intently at the gorilla and the gorilla was staring just as intently at him. During various intervals in time, the silverback would beat his chest and make screeching, growling noises, which scared Jaime half to death. The man just kept watching. I whispered to Kel that the gorilla probably though it was a competing male trying to encroach on his territory because the man was wearing silver and black. We proceeded to whisper about the man for several minutes. Eventually, the gorilla went inside to go to sleep. Kel says the animals go inside to sleep so poachers don't come and get them. ("Hey, George, I feel like shooting me up some GO-rilla!" "Well, where we gonna go, Cletis? Africa?" "Naw, we'll just mosey on over to the St. Lou-ie Zoo!")
I don't know if I believe him.
But after we had walked around the zoo enough, we were sitting near the giftshop, and we saw the man again. This time, we could see the front of his shirt, which was proudly emblazoned with a screenprint of a gorilla.
Jaime said, "Hey! Isn't that the same guy we saw earlier!? Look at his shirt!" (in whispered conspiritorial tones) "I bet he comes to the Zoo EVERY DAY and just stands and WATCHES the gorillas for HOURS." This proposition was readily accepted by the group.
You just have to wonder what kind of a man watches gorillas for hours...

Miscellaneous
Davy finally shaped up and got himself a blog! Go ahead now, don't be shy. Click on the link and visit often!
I get to go shopping tomorrow with JIMMY. I am insanely excited.
I also get to see another anime tomorrow. I'm not sure if I'm as insanely exited about that.
I'm doing something neat on Saturday, but I'm not really sure what it is right now. More on that later.

Well, I'm off kiddos. Have a nice night everyone.
Hugs from
-Meg

Wait

And Ace. I think Ace is really cool.

What have we all started?

It's so darned cool!

Meg blogs about Michael who blogs about Han who blogs about Laurel who blogs about Jeff who blogs about no one because he never blogs.

My blood sugar is 30. Juice on the way.
Love from
-Meg

Listen up, chillens

Yep. It's three in the morning. I just got finished having a lovely conversation with everyone's favorite redhead: (well, except for you of course, Jenny) DAVY!
It's weird.
We are "ok" at small talk, we mangage to get through it, but we are absolutely KILLER at late nite deep conversations. I find this incredibly cool. I find him incredibly cool. He came up with a great metaphor for women/men relationships last nite (this is what we discuss a lot) that I plan on sharing with you all tomorrow nite. But right now, I need to go to bed.

I MISS YOU LAUREL! I AM SO GLAD YOU ARE BACK!!!

I went to Aesop's cafe and saw a boy that looked like Michael. I also saw Jewishboy, but he disappeared before I could tell him to come Wednesday nite for poetry. Maybe Carl told him.

Remind me to blog about gatekeepers and Arnold's do the right thing.

Much love from
-Meggah.

p.s. I think Jimmy, Laurel, Kel, Michael, Joe, Tim, Val, Nathan, Han, Jeff, and anyone ELSE who reads my blog through connections with the aformentioned people AND anyone else who I've forgotten because I have no memory are all really cool as well.

p.s.s. I WANT THAT SKIRT!

I deserve a medal

I have blogged so much lately. Congrats to me.

I don't have much to say, but I WOULD like to say that Han's Blog is AMAZAGING (yes, amazaging) today.
I'm purposely NOT being meandering because she does it SO much better than me. Jimmy was shocked. This is because he likes Han's writing better than mine. But I don't mind too much because I can PUNCH HIM IN THE STOMACH any time I want and she doesn't get that pleasure.
Poor, poor Han. Did you know he whimpers if he thinks you're going to hit him? Boy is it fun.

Today I went to Kel's church. And boy did I like it. It was just my style. I saw Joe Bubenik there. (Punk kid who goes to my school, for those not "in the know.") That was fun. We ate at Ponderosa. I'd never eaten there before. It was good. I can't remember if Joe has my blog address or not, or if he does, if he ever checks it.

Both Ace and Davy are in town and neither of them have called. Sad.

I wish my nickname was "Ace."
Oh, who am I kidding, I wish I HAD a nickname.

I took a nap today, it was nice.
Laurel blogged.
I'm hungry.
I have to get up early tomorrow.
I'm leaving now.

-Meg
(yeah, shut up already.)

Generally, this day has been pretty darned good.

I woke up to this:

"when it comes to relationships, if you are being vague with a man, he will have no idea what you are talking about. this does not mean anything - he is not being evasive. seriously, he is just confused. you must be very blunt. as if you were talking to a person who did not speak english very well."

It made me literally, LOL. Michael must be having problems communicating with the opposite sex. I sent him an excerpt from my story "The Holiday" last night. First I gave him more of the clubbing story, but that part was so terrible I felt the need to send him another snippet in an e-mail entitled "more." I got back a blank e-mail, so he must have been stunned speechless. Oh yes, I am that good. Right. Need to write more...

Yeah. Then Jeff dropped by with (and you will not believe this)

A BRAND NEW PAIR OF 30 DOLLAR KILLER HEADPHONES.

They are beautiful and black and squishy and I love them. He even bought me an extension cord so I can sit on my bed and groove to Ani at night with no one knowing!
Then, he stole my Vines CD.
I didn't mind too much.

I love Jeffy because he does things like this.

Will someone please ask me to see a film? I haven't in a while, and I don't have any money. Come on now, boys. I collect enough of you. ONE of you should take me to see a film.

Updates:
I waited for JIMMY to call and tell me about the wedding so I could get all giggly and womanish. However, he didn't.
That was ok, though, because I finally fufilled my domestic urge and made brownies. The are SO GOOD. And SO INCREDIBLY RICH. Tasty-licious. I'll save some for you if you're good. I think my mom wanted to spend all night singing my praises. She should have because while I was microwaving the chocolate and the butter I accidentally spilled it all over one of my favorite pair of jeans and that cute little pink shirt with the record player print on it. Then, the part that touched the skin was all pink to match the shirt. It hurt, and now I have chocolate stains on my clothing.
Mimi said she didn't like them because they were too rich. In my professional, unbiased opinion: MIMI SUCKS.

I went car shopping today and found a Ford Contour that I RATHER liked, and a Hundai Elantra that I also liked a lot. However, even though the Elantra is cuter (navy blue) the Contour has a kick-arse sound system. Guess which one I want more?

Oh, I got my hair cut. Really, there is nothing to say there. I've realized that I can explain away my odd hair by saying this magical little phrase: "I'm growing it out."
These four words make girls nod knowingly and utter an understanding "ahh...!"
While we're on physical appearance. (oh, how shallow) I painted two nails red. I cut them short so I have the cute little punk-nail look. I am so "with it."

School starts altogether too soon. Quiet, let's not talk about that yet.

I need a new notebook. Dwell in possibility is all filled up.

Davy's in this weekend, and Ace gets back tomorrow. Excellent.
Speaking of weekend plans, next weekend is the CASA LOMA EXTRAVAGANZA! I hope all my friends have nothing to do Friday night because we are all going SWING DANCING. That's right, I get to debut the 1950's black cocktail dress with velvet trimmings. Lovely. It's not yet been worn out, you know. Shameful. Clear up those calendars, boys and girl, because it's going to be our final hurrah before school begins.

Well, I'm off to bed then. Love you all madly.
-Meglet

The Belated Friday Five (let's hope they don't suck)

Well, I've checked. And yep, sure enough, they suck. The writer must be having personal or creative problems. So here's a Meggified version of it.

Meg's Very Own Attempt At Creative Friday Fives

1. If you could do anything, right now, Meg, what would it be? BAKE. No, I'm just kidding. My cullinary wishes will go unfufilled for another few days. Really, I'd go outside and I'd just sing my heart out to the stars. And dance, and turn cartwheels. Because it's a beautiful summer night and there won't be many left. I'd find a friend and we'd stay up late and talk when we wanted to and not say anything at all when we wanted to, and trace infinity symbols on everything we could touch.

2.Stars? What's a constellation would you want to "create"? Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, this is cliche, but an infinity constellation. Or a snake biting a man's heel.

3. And if you could make up a method to tell the future? (ie, reading tea leaves) I'd give a person an ink filled japanese paintbrush and have them draw exactly 5 strokes. Then I'd figure out a method of what each stroke means. For example, if the none of the strokes were touching, the person would most likely float through life as a loner, avoiding excessive human interaction. If there was a large wide stroke that ran into a think stroke, it'd mean a large life change in the mid-thirties.

4. What does your future hold, as you see it, on one year from this date? I will have gone out tonite with one of my new guy friends, and I'll be nervous about school starting. I'll update my blog and forget completely that I'd tried to predict how I'd be feeling one year ago. Just for kicks, let's see what I was doing today one year ago. Well, there's no letters from Aug. 10th or 11th exactly, but according to Laurel's letters, I was out of town, and she missed me. I was nuts about Tim, who was writing me letters from Cooperstown. Jeff and Laurel had a theological conversation. I was getting reading to leave for Leadership retreat. Hmm, interesting.

5. What does your future hold, as you see it, tomorrow? I'm going to do my summer reading, try to get my glasses fixed, get my haircut, and wait by the phone in agony for Jimmy to call when he gets beack from the wedding so I can get all giggly and womanish on him. Maybe I'll see a film.

Yeah, that wasn't so bad.
Love,
Meg

Overheard, past the swinging doors

"Don't drink cyanide. And if you do, leave all your CDs to me."

"God, I can't believe I was just in Chicago last night."

"This is amazing! I mean, it's really great. How long have you been spinning?"

"See, the thing is, I always am saying to myself, well, for example, with the three radiohead CDs I have, I know I wouldn't just sit down and think 'Well, fu-ck yeah, I want to listen to Radiohead right now.' But I know if it were playing, I'd be digging it, you know?

"So, like, I came up to her with the beach ball and she said to me, 'Yeah, I saw that by the side of the road. I figured some kids would pick it up.' and I said, 'Yep. That's me!'"

"Just don't look in the mirrors. Whoa."

"My name's Gary. I'm playing next Saturday."

"I'm thrusting in his general direction."

"And there he was, in aviator sunglasses, a hawiiaan shirt and khaki shorts. He's great, really friendly. He makes me want to drink a glass of wine with him. You know, in a well-lit place."

"This is your type of place. You look like you belong here. "

Tonite I found the Atomic Cowboy in Maplewood.
It's not a club, although they have stunning, absolutely stunning techno music.
It's not a bar, although they serve a beautiful looking martini.
It's not a coffeehouse, although there are squishy couches to sit on.

All I know is, I love it.

My brother just walked in and said, "Hey, what kind of guitar do whales play?"
I said, "Acoustic?"
He said, "No, Eel-ectric. Get it?"

Is it just me, or is this unfunny?
What? It's time for the Friday Five already?

Well, yeah, screw you too.

So I was dying for human interaction to shake all my blues away (away!)
And, like a saviour, Michael pops online. So I begin to type away, happily, talking about whatever comes to mind. I think he got one word in amongst like 5 of my sentences. So finally I said something along the lines of, "I hope you don't think I'm being stalker-esque, but I'm just dying to talk to someone. It's either do this or be productive and actually write something."
He promptly left.
I imagine this means one of three things:
1)He stumbled upon the last few entries, freaked out, and left.
2)He does think I'm being stalker-esque.
3)He wants me to actually be prductive and write something.

Look, I'm ok with the first two reasons, but if it's the third reason, I'm MAD.
I don't WANT to be productive.
Look! Instead of writing, do you know what I'm doing?! That's right, I'm cheapening myself, lowering myself, and writing a BLOG. Yes, I'm BLOGGING. So TAKE THAT. ::grumble::

You want to know what happened tonite?
Fine.
I went to wish New Guy goodbye. He gave me a CD, and I gave him a Belle and Sebastian. He put it over the PA. It sounded incredible and made me so happy. We talked about poetry a bit. I think he's going to read next Wednesday at the Red Sea. I imagine I'll show up. I'm curious as to what he writes. He's nuts, I think. Most poets are, at least a little.

Oh, screw you. I'm going to go work on a story.

I hope you're happy.

I didn't mean it THAT way

heartofvinyl: it's Meg
Calador109: very..um... interesting name
heartofvinyl: yes, it means like RECORDS
heartofvinyl: not like BONDAGE
heartofvinyl: I only realized that AFTERWARDS

Don't call it poetry

Because it's not. It's just me trying to communicate something. Plus, it's terrible.

It seems like everything everybody says to me today just tears me apart.
I've been near tears quite a few times today. I really don't want anything to change. I want everything to stay the same. I know I don't do this often, if ever. I try to keep these entries lighthearted, because angst-ridden teenage blogs do nothing but drive readers away and worry close friends.

But listen, I'm trying to be straight with you.
I'm trying to tell you that everything I see around me breaks my heart. I'm trying to say this so that you will read it and you will believe that for no reason at all, my throat is tightening up and my eyes are burning and I feel a very real pain.

Michael, your blog was beautiful. It broke my heart more.
Maybe I'm just having woman-ish moodswings. Gosh, I should really stop writing now. Scare all the readers away. "But Meg! I thought you were happy all the time! What is THIS?"

What happens when you feel trite and boring? What happens when you don't have anything to say anymore? What happens when you don't care that you are trite and boring and don't have anything to say anymore?
Do you just wait?
I don't want to wait.
I want to be the Meg that everyone used to fall in love with.
I miss her.
I like this new Meg, but I am scared that she forgets how beautiful a sunset is.
Is there nothing new under that same sun?

My prayer tonite: Let me never lose that sense of wonder, let me never lose that passion.

What happens if you turn into somebody you don't like?

I think my heart is breaking

I think that it is made of glass.
I think that every word they say
Tink tink tinkers away at it
Until the cracks spread, interweave
Shatter.

Yes, I think my heart is breaking
And there are splinters in my chest
That will leave scars
That I'll trace on lonely nights.
I'll pull the sheets down.
I'll pull my shirt up.
And while he sleeps next to me, softly breathing
I'll remember the day I broke.

I want to teeeellll you

Yay for the Beatles. Andrew has my Beatles CD. (Ok, Jeff's CD.) I got stuck with one of his CDs, where on one of the songs, a guy screams:

NIHILISM! NIHILISM! NIHILISM! NIHILISM!
over and over and over again.

I bet you can guess Andrew listens to punk.

Anyway, today has been an interesting day. I felt the need to blog about it. To help me, I have procured a small, cute, assistant. Her name is Jaime. Say hello everyone! She reads what I write and yells "CORRECTION!" when I misspell something. It's like my own personal editor. Oh, wait, she'd like to say something:

"I am NOT cute and small!"

(But she is.) Moving on. Today Nathan got back from Sweden! Yay! In order to find him combat boots, we strapped ourselves into his Volvo and headed on the highway (yipes!) towards The Vintage Haberdashery. On the way there, a white van passed us. There was a teenage girl hanging out of the window and oscilllating wildy.

Strangely, it was my friend Allison.
And her friend Aubree.
So we followed them to their boyfriends' house. (Their boyfriends are brothers. Yeah, it's weird.)
Then we left the house after saying hello and went to the Haberdashery. While we were there, I tried on dresses that didn't fit and Nathan looked at tophats. The girl working there told him about bondage gear. He told her he wasn't interested.
I think she was trying to hit on him.
Or hit him.

We went to the park, and I found a wax cast of a man's hand lying on a bench. I keep wondering who it belongs to. The man has a very very large hand. At least, I hope it's a man.

Then, since Laurel is leaving tomorrow for another vacation (insert wailing sob of mourning here) we decided to go to Aesops.
I haven't been to Aesop's since the last time I blogged about it. 3 weeks ago. I saw two Asian men, but I don't think either of them were Michael.
I talked to Carl (New Guy), who had three pieces of information for me:
1) He'd burned a CD to give to me when I came to Aesops, but after I didn't show up for 3 weeks he gave up. He didn't have it tonite.
2) He is quitting. This is tragic news. I have little to no desire to go to Aesop's anymore. No more free drinks.
3) He is reading his poetry next Wednesday night at The Red Sea. I should come, he says.
Jewishboy was strangely absent. Maybe he gave up on me too.
So, I have to go tomorrow and pick up my CD and wish Carl farewell. I'd bring him a present, but he might think I was hitting on him.
Or hitting him.

But anyway.

While we were there, Laurel and I got hit on by an English major as Wash U going for his PhD. in Brit Lit.
I learned lots of interesting things about him, including:
1)He used to be a physics major. Then he was bio. Then he was pre-med. Then he was Modern Lit. Now he is 19th century Romanticism. He switched a lot.
2)He read Great Expectations at age 10
3)What he REALLY wanted to be was a professional baseball player. Or a rockstar. He said being an English professor was his 4th career choice, but he said that wasn't too bad.
It was interesting. This is the third time I've been approached by older men in the past few weeks. I think I must have some weird pheromone thing going on.

Laurel and I had an amazing time though. We were both having an "on" night. She's....OH CRAP!
I forgot to call her mom. And I forgot to burn Laurel a CAKE CD.
I'm the worst friend ever.

On that note, I'm done.

I'm sorry this blog sucks so much. I'm having an "off" week.
Love you all madly,
Meglet

Let's Try Something New

Hey, jellybean.
It has come to my attention a few days late that Han thought I was being snobbish and insulting her blog.
I would like to note that I was not.
In fact, I would like to note that I LOVE her blog.
I read it almost everyday.
I have a list of other people's blogs in my head and I check them in the same way everyday.
Her's is the second one I check.
I think that is pretty good.
In fact, I am dedicating this post to her.
Because she is such a neat girl.
In fact, I wrote a poem about her:

Han, you should know
That you are cool.
I don't have much dough
But if I did I'd spend it on you.
So when the world is evil
And men are insane
Know I'm for real
I think you're Sweet, Jane. (I know your name isn't Jane--that's a song by the Velvet Underground. You should download it)

Did you know that Han made me cartoons?
That's right, she made me two.
Because I was stressed out.
I had a huge AP History test!
But you know what?
I got a 4 on it!
This is due only to her help!

It would be a sad sad world with no Han.
And plus, who would Jimmy have to talk to?
Everyone knows I'm no listener.

WE LOVE YOU HAN!

Performing Meg Stress

Don't wanna blog. Worried if I don't everyone will stop reading my page and/or hate my guts.
You may notice that the posts are far from "meandering" these days. In fact, they're a lot like Han's posts. Whatever. If you want meandering posts visit Michael or Laurel's page.

Whatever you do! Don't visit Jeff's! Just kidding. He brought me CDs. Jack Johnson, Rhett Miller, and um... one other one I forgot. Sheesh, I suck. I'd go up and check, but I know you don't care. Stop pretending. Speaking of music, I've decided I want to buy a really nice pair of totally stereophonic headphones. It'll let me listen to my music in peace (and late at night.) Jeff moved my speakers higher today. It sounds soo much better. Now it doesn't sound like the floor is "eating my sound" (Thanks Jeff)

Jeff and Jimmy got to see each other tonite at Denny's. I think they are secretly in love. They talked about electronics and video games while I staged many a mock-death. They pretended not to notice.
Then, for my revenge, I told them about my newest thrift finds. You wanna know?
A brown housedress with pink flowers, circa 1940. (you don't know what a housedress is, too bad.)
and a turquoise/purple tulle skirt, circa 1950, A+ condition. (you don't know what tulle is, too bad.)
Of course, I didn't say it like that to them. I went into GREAT DETAIL because they went into GREAT DETAIL about computers and other boring technological things.
Our waiter was named Dr. Mario. He's in med school. He's nice. He got me fries.

Speaking of food, tonite when I went out with Jeffrey he took me to breadco and I got an icy (sorry, I.C.) mocah, and the girl gave it to me for free because we had matching black framed plastic glasses. No, I'm just kidding, but that COULD have been the reason. It was yummier cause it was free. Jeff and I wanted to see Pumpkin at the Tivoli (correction: Jeff wanted to see Pumpkin and forced me to come because he's in love with Christina Ricci. Sicko) but it was not there. Jeff was heartbroken. I was not. He got to see Jimmy so that made him happy again. Thank goodness he has stopped calling Jimmy "Jim-Jim." I was about to punch him in the gut for that one.
Do you guys think Jeff and I have a weird relationship? You could comment, but I don't have a commenting system. I bet Jeff is glad.

Know where else Jeff and I went? Borders. Know what band I discovered there? My new love: The Vines. You might have heard of them. They've been promoted alongside The Hives and The Strokes as the best new bands of this year. The Hives suck, The Strokes suck, and let's put it this way: I want to bear the children of every band member of The Vines. Yes, they are that good. They make me drool. (In a good way.)

Hey, speaking of music, know why I hate mainstream pop? Because their stupid radio van smashed my Saturn into nothingness, gave my sister and me whiplash, and have left me carless for quite some time.
Wankers.
Yeah, it hurt. Yeah, it was scary. Yes, the car is totalled. Yes, my neck feels better now.
However, now I am completely and totally freaked out about driving and yell at everyone I am a passenger with "red light!" "stop sign!" "slow down!" and stuff like that. Ask Kel or Jeff. Yipes. Plus the fact that I am PMSing. This is not a good combination. No, I am not ashamed to let everyone I know that I am hormonally imbalanced. Why don't you just shut up?!

I love you all more than you'll ever know.
Unfailingly Yours,
Meg, the unfailing.

Note to self: stop writing 2 am posts
Note to readers: no way am I doing that crappy friday five!