Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Three days without Facebook. Because I haaaate myself.

This morning I checked Facebook. Then I went to work. Then I checked Facebook again. I spent the first hour of the day working and checking Facebook until I read something that made my heart twist. See, I have several Facebook friends who are pregnant and who got pregnant around the same time I did. However, their babies are healthy. I had a miscarriage. I would have found out whether my baby was a boy or girl this month...and that means that THEY are all finding out and excitedly posting their news to Facebook. Meanwhile, I'm torturing myself by obsessively reading their updates and looking at pictures of their cute bellies and the sweet baby socks and clothes and books that they're receiving as gifts. I am not even close to being over my miscarriage. I feel like a mother without a child. I am jealous, angry, empty, and sad every time I see one of those updates. It's hard, REALLY hard to be happy for people who are getting what I thought I'd have. I lost it, seemingly at random, seemingly by chance, seemingly for no reason, and arbitrarily they didn't. But I digress. Because the point is that after I saw this girl's update and felt that familiar sinking, empty, drowning-in-a-well-filled-with-my-own-emotions-blaaaaah feeling, I got PISSED.

I'm mad! WHY am I doing this to myself?! Is this REALLY how I want to feel?? No one is forcing me to look! I sat there, staring at the computer screen for at least five minutes, realizing that I am torturing myself. I have a wound that's trying to heal, and I keep ripping it open and examining it. What is wrong with me? I'm not a jealous person. I'm not a person who doesn't rejoice in the happiness of others. I'm not a wallower. In the past I've always been able to muster up enthusiasm and joy for people who have what I want.

See, without Facebook, I wouldn't even know that these friends are all having girls so far. They could tell me or I could find out on a better timeline, one where I don't have to crumple into a pathetic pile of sadness in secret and they don't have to feel guilty for sharing their good news. I actually am not sure if they all even know, but I don't want them to feel bad when they post a picture of an ultrasound.

I've realized that being a part of every single thing that every other person does is a responsibility. If we're going to have that much knowledge about the lives of one another, if we're going to give ourselves so much freaking ability to be connected at all times, then we have to learn not to abuse it. Torturing ourselves with Facebook is NOT responsible behavior. It's insane. It's kind of sick. I do it all the time. It's not just the miscarriage, either. I can't count how many times I've felt awful after comparing myself to other people, particularly other people I hardly even know. And when was the last time I argued for hours on end over some stupid political opinion in real life? Facebook is the perfect forum for that, unfortunately. I get to watch some awesome things happen in the lives of my friends, but I also get to feel just sick to death because of all the negativity. It's negativity I force upon myself.

Not everyone needs to know what I'm thinking! I don't need to know what everyone else is thinking, either. I don't need to hurt over someone else's baby when I'm not even finished hurting over mine. Seeing other women's pregnancies work out so up close and personally makes me forget the peace that God has given me after hours of prayer and thought. It makes me forget that sometimes I need to focus on my own personal tragedies before I can heal enough to face the world. After my miscarriage, I shut myself into my apartment and took a week of alone time, some of it with my husband, some without. It felt good to just deal on my own. But I wasn't ever really alone with my grief, because I was on Facebook. Because even when I was weighed down with my own suffering, I was still involved, however indirectly, in the affairs of other people. Their lives just went on while mine was utterly halted for a while and watching that makes a cynic out of anyone. I have enough stress in my life without everyone else's on top of it.

This post was originally supposed to be a lighthearted humor piece about how much Facebook sucks. I even had ms paint up to draw some hilarious pictures of myself curled up in a deprived ball on the floor. I probably should have written this after the anger subsided and I may even go back and delete it because I'm not sure I'm ready to share yet, but I've gotta say, it feels good. I cannot believe it took me this long to figure this crap out.

So here's my plan to start getting my Facebook habit under control: I'm not going to be on Facebook until Saturday at the earliest, longer if I can handle it, just to see how it feels. Then I'll have to come up with some sort of battle plan, because this sucks and I'm not letting a stupid website control my emotions anymore. Who knows? Maybe I'll even be able to come to terms with my feelings on my own without interference, however indirect or unintentional, from anyone else.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

In case anyone forgot how unproductive I am

Technically this chart is now inaccurate, since I also spent a significant amount of time making this chart.

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

That one time when a particularly voluptuous robot swindled me out of some alligators

Today I was checking my email on Hotmail because I signed up for an email account at the age of 13 and I don't like change so HOTMAIL IT IS. Little did I know that the MSN messenger chat service I also used at the age of 13 was up and functional, and I was totally signed in to it. Then a little chat box popped up on my screen from Jen+Lova. Now, I'm not entirely sure who she is, but I'm positive she's a robot. So I guess I am entirely sure who she is.

Jen+Lova says:

megan prietzel says:
Hello, who is this?

Jen+Lova says:
hello to you too

megan prietzel says:
You don't know who I am.
I mean it's possible, but I doubt it.

Jen+Lova says:
Hey hun, How ru doing today? Wanna chat for a little ?!? Im bored and wanted to meet new people... 

megan prietzel says:
Ooooh I see. This is a spam bot. I GET YOU NOW.

Jen+Lova says:
nah, I am a vegetarian... no spam for me! haha

megan prietzel says:
Oh okay, so you're a spam bot that automatically sends a negative response whenever I type the word "spam."

Jen+Lova says:
a what?

megan prietzel says:

Jen+Lova says:
Cool... Well, I am Jenny Im originally from S.Florida... Let me ask you a question?

megan prietzel says:
Okay, but first let me ask you one. Is it fulfilling, being a spam bot? I mean, do you get a sense of accomplishment from your work?
I once considered being a spam bot, however I'm not a robot.
It was a poor career choice.

Jen+Lova says:
bot? like a robot? lol

megan prietzel says:
Yes, like your people, Jenny from South Florida.

Jen+Lova says:
i LOVE florida, my best friend Becky lives in Boca Raton, I visit down there all the time

megan prietzel says:
I've been to Florida twice, but I was quite disappointed by the lack of wild alligators roaming the streets.

Jen+Lova says:
Which kinda women u in to ? r u in to NICE TITS or a NICE APPLE BOTTOM ?
megan prietzel says:
Well, as a heterosexual female, I'm not really into any women, regardless of their varying physical assets. I AM however, into alligators. Why did I not see more alligators, Jenny?

Jen+Lova says:
yes im real

megan prietzel says:
Ah, well that settles it then. You MUST be real.

Jen+Lova says:
good question, huh? lol.. I have a lot of both!! :) would u like to see? I have some free time now... 

megan prietzel says:
A lot of alligators? Or a lot of physical assets? I'd be very interested in seeing the alligators. Could you please email me some photos of said alligators? And could you please name one Pixie McGillus for me? And could you tell her she's the prettiest alligator of them all?

Jen+Lova says:
pics are old skool hehe, i like to do cam 2 cam :) i'm online right now the main girl u see there, type to me on the right hand side of my video

megan prietzel says:
Oh, I don't mind if the photos are old school. Alligators do well in all types of photography genres, I think. Very timeless, alligators. 

Jen+Lova says:
pics are old skool hehe, i like to do cam 2 cam :) i'm online right now the main girl u see there, type to me on the right hand side of my video

megan prietzel says:
Oh, I think you resent that, robot.

Jen+Lova says:
i dont think so

megan prietzel says:
...I think you did. In fact I can see that you did.
You definitely did, Jenna.

Jen+Lova says:
Yay... let me set up my cam n u can watch me shake my booty!! LOL.. brb 

megan prietzel says:
I'm starting to suspect that you're not from South Florida AT ALL.

Jen+Lova says:
Ok! Click here we'll have a PRIVATE 1on1 chat..There's plenty pix of me in there, if you like click the "join free" on top, then register and it'll take you straight to my webcam, I'll be there in a minute.. :)

megan prietzel says:
Is Booty the name of one of your alligators?

Jen+Lova says:
jennifer is my real name but all my friends call me jenny

megan prietzel says:
Hey Jennifer, I'm totally online on your website thing. SHOW ME THE GATORS.

Jen+Lova says:
hey whats up sweetie?

megan prietzel says:
You know, I'm trying to have a conversation with you, but you're so disjointed that I'm starting to think you don't really know what's going on.
Like you're distracted, or something.

Jen+Lova says:
It might say that im offline, just start signing up.. im getting on now.. 

megan prietzel says:
Oh, oh so you're NOT online?
Wait, I thought you were DEFINITELY online.
I thought we were going to do this alligator thing. Am I being had, Jenny?

Jen+Lova says:
There is no charge to sign up, but its gonna ask you for your credit card. Im wearing almost nothing and I dont want any kids watching me!! lol.. 

megan prietzel says:
All I have to do to verify my age is give you all my credit card information? Sounds legit.

Jen+Lova says:
Once you've completed that, it'll automatically redirect you to my webcam page.. u better give me some "gold" when you're on the site's like a flirt and I'd love some from you ..k? :)

megan prietzel says:
Okay I'm a little stuck. Should I also include my social security number, just to make ABSOLUTELY sure that I'm not under 18?

Jen+Lova says:

megan prietzel says:
I don't know what to believe anymore. 

Jen+Lova says: 
k u in?

megan prietzel says:
...Well I guess so. I must admit, my faith in you is a little shaken, but as you now have my credit card information and my social security number, who can I trust if not you, right? LOL.

Jen+Lova says:
my cell is 206-222-1648, please dont give that out! lol

megan prietzel says:
I'm totally posting this to my blog, you know.
I mean, Jennifer.
...There are no alligators, are there?

I never did get to see Pixie McGillus. But I am now fighting the irrational urge to call that number and continue on our conversation about alligators. I could be like, "Oh yeah, no really, I TOTALLY want to see your apple bottom, but first answer me this: do alligators really live in sewers, or is that just an urban legend?"

Saturday, June 23, 2012

If I only had the right voodoo dieting spell

A couple of mornings ago I walked downstairs expecting to have a bowl of Special K cereal. I bought the Special K because I'm positive it has magical weight-loss powers, mostly because of the commercial with the lady walking on the beach. You know. The one where she's covered up in a gauzy little shawl but then oops! The wind blew my shawl away! And then she sassily struts her Special K bod because she's black and skinny and holllaaaaa. That one. Anyway, I'm like Regina George, in that I really want to lose three pounds because my wedding dress, which fits, but I'm convinced that I need to lose three pounds, and until I do nothing is okay and I am a hideous beast and Special K. I had one bowl of it the morning after I bought it and I thought the results should be a bit more noticeable, but then I reasoned with myself and was all, "Maybe you have to eat two bowls. Or perform a voodoo ritual." Point is, I needed more of it.

I walked downstairs and my younger brother was eating my Special K. At first I was like whatevs because how much cereal can a 17 year old boy eat? But then I grabbed the box and the answer is "all of it." There were crumbs left at the bottom of the Special K box. I immediately lost my mind.

Brother: I ate it.
Brother: It's my favorite cereal.
Brother: Oh. Sorry.
Brother: Well, mine.
Brother: Eh.
Brother: No.

And I spent the rest of my day fuming. The Special K is only one part in my many part plan to completely alter everything about myself in the month before my wedding. For example, I went to the dermatologist the other day, because I had this weird, dangerous looking bump on my arm. No big or anything. But when I got there, a supermodel wearing a doctor's coat walked into the room and was like, "Hi, what's the problem?" and I was like, "Supermodel, you're in Utah. I think you're looking for Milan. This isn't even the right country." But then she was actually the doctor. And she was like 20. And beautiful. And according to her degree on the wall, she graduated with honors in biochemistry from NYU. I was like, "I WANT TO BE EVERYTHING THAT YOU ARE" but I only said that in my head because it's difficult to express that sort of sentiment while wearing a hospital gown with any amount of dignity.

She zapped the arm thing off because I'm white like Elmer's glue. Except that if you leave Elmer's glue out in the sun for 20 minutes, it has a 78 percent chance of developing skin cancer, whereas I have like an 86. The good thing about this is that I've been able to alternate between wearing sparkly bandaids and Avengers bandaids all week.

I don't even like Special K all that much. If Cookie Crisp or Captain Crunch or Lucky Charms had the ability to make me skinny, I'd do that. But only Special K has that power. Apparently you're supposed to follow some voodoo diet where you don't eat utter crap for lunch and dinner, but one step at a time, amirite? Besides, today I ate like, half a bag of organic cherries after working out, so I think I'm set for a while. Because cherries are good for you. I looked up the nutritional information on the internet.

The point of this entire post was to introduce my new blog project, but I honestly have no idea how I was going to segue into it so how about a jarring and completely misplaced sentence? The new blog is a Tumblr called Relief Society Like Yeah, which is hilarious, but probably only if you're Mormon or go to BYU or are familiar with the culture of one or the other. I can only make so many jokes that are not about BYU parking.

I should probably also tell you that I'm engaged, because I just mentioned a wedding dress and half of you are probably like, "The eff is she talking about?" and the other half are like, "Isn't she like, 19?" Coincidentally, I just did an interview with Emma of SparkLife about being 19 and engaged, so if you'd like to berate me about my wasted life, read that first. Anyway, photographic evidence:

Look at us! Look at how blissfully engaged we are! His name is Eric and I'll probably write about him all the brickin' time now because we spend every waking moment either annoyed with each other or totally kissing. Notice how I chose a picture that doesn't show his face. That's because here is his face:

Now if only I can drag myself to the grocery store for more Special K, maybe he won't leave me for my dermatologist.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Girls, please live by these words

Lemme tell you a 'lil somthin' somthin'...pretty lasts.  Hot is an expendable commodity.


I just had to share this because it's currently the best video on youtube.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Mostly I can't choose a team. I'm leaning toward unicorns because they sparkle.

I bought this book called Zombies VS. Unicorns.  And when I say "I bought" I mean "someone in my family gave me a gift card to Barnes and Noble" and when I say "someone in my family" I mean "I can't remember who."

So, yeah, hey family.  I'm totally grateful for your gifts that enable me to buy zombie-unicorn books.

Note the bird-man on top.  Trivia: it's actually a poorly drawn zombie being eaten by a bird.  Awesome.
That is what this book looks like.  Only better.  And...more realistic.  Although I don't know how that's possible, because it would appear that my MS Paint skills have only improved with time.

OMG FINE.  Here.  Click this link.  I HOPE YOU'RE SATISFIED.

Anyway, I was at Barnes and Noble with my boyfriend, just spending the crap out of all my unused Christmas gift cards when suddenly, a shiny black cover gleamed from the recesses of the "Paranormal Teen Novel Fantasy Whatever" section.  Being who I am, I instantly screamed "ZOMBIES VERSUS UNICORNS!!!" I then brushed my fingers lovingly across the cover and whispered solemnly and with all the reverence I could muster, "I must have this."

The great thing about my boyfriend is that he just expects things like this.

When I showed my step-dad he rolled his eyes and said, "Well at least you didn't waste your money," and I was like "I know!  What a buy, right?!" and he rolled his eyes again.  In retrospect, I think he may believe I've wasted my money.

Anyway, I thought this book would be the best purchase I've ever made in my life, and in some ways I was right.  In others...I was so, so wrong.  The book is basically a collection of short stories from various authors on two opposing teams.  I've enjoyed most of the stories so far.  However, there has been bestiality, homosexual naked special hugs, and curse words.  The BAD kind of curse words. 

I'm a prude.  I don't swear.  I'm easily shocked.  But this book is about zombies and unicorns!  It was MADE for me!  But it's so SHOCKING.  But some of the stories are SO GOOD.  But THE PARTIAL NUDITY.

I don't know what to believe anymore.

I think I'll just go get a hot dog.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

That one time I got punched in the face by a bird in Mexico

Mexico is a place, a place that I had never been to until recently.  And by that I mean that I went on a cruise there and I really thought there would be more to tell you about that but there isn't.  There IS, however, a little to tell you because I was attacked by rabid birds.

I was just strutting down the market-place in Ensenada, buying such trinkets as seashell earrings and cheap Mexican cocaine, when WOULDN'T YOU KNOW IT, there was a churro stand!  And the churro guy was like, "Here, have a free sample of a churro!" and I was like "May I kiss you passionately, old Mexican churro man?" 

I love churros.  Churros are the only Mexican food that I love.  They're like little fried tubes of joy.  And cinnamon sugar, which is equivalent. My mom sometimes makes churros and I remember why I love my mom.  Not that I wouldn't love my mom if she didn't make me churros, it would just be significantly harder and also I might call her by her first name.


Churro man handed me my free sample of Mexican magic and I, exuding the joy of a woman with a fresh churro and veins full of cocaine, bit into it immediately.  Unfortunately, when an object has pulled from a vat of bubbling oil moments before you place it in your mouth, it is still scalding hot.  I was like "MOTHER OF SWEAR WORD" and then held the churro out so that the Ensenada wind might cool it slightly. 

I continued to walk down the road of the ocean-side market, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air when, all of a sudden, I saw birds!  Look at 'em, they're everywhere!  They're so cuuuute!  And then I continued walking and didn't think about them again. 

Until, not two seconds later, I felt something slam into my face with the force of a small missile.  I felt seagull feet tangling in my hair and saw, to my horror, a snapping beak lunging at my churro, over and over.  And I wish I had been like, "NOT MY CHURRO.  YOU'RE GOING DOWN BIRD.  PREPARE YOURSELF" and then popped a homie in the face, but instead I was more like, "eeeuuuughghhghgGGGHHHEIEEIEIE!!!  MOMMMMM!!!!  HELP MEEEEEEE!!!"  And the evil bird just kept punching me in the face until it snapped up my churro and flew off. 

Those Mexican seagulls aren't afraid of anything.  I hope the churro burned it's tongue on the way down and I hope that every stolen bit of food tasted like rubber for weeks and I hope that that bird never gets married and dies alone.