This is why I never reply. Ever. Except for my own amusement.

I don't really like checking my email. I think email is very important, I wouldn't be able to function without it, but I have this problem. It goes like this.

First, I do something. It's always something seemingly harmless. I apply for something important. I email a person who I'd like to talk to. I sign up for the hourly official penguin newsletter. All normal, healthy investments of time. Then, I frolic about, thinking to myself "I can internet! I have this interneting thing in the bag! I'm inter-lectual!" My day continues on as normal. I read a few favorite blogs, I drink a few glasses of water, I try to incorporate the word "perspicacious" into everyday conversation, I make a few awkward and inappropriate comments on various Facebook walls...you know, just stuffz. By the time I go to bed at night I'm thinking "Email, you made my day awesome. I'm going to make an 'I HEART EMAIL' shirt. I'm going to wear it to the mall. Everyone will be jealous. Goodnight, email."

Oh, email. I love you, email.

The next day, I ignore email. It's wrong. It's insensitive. But I don't even think about email. I just look up pictures of cats and eat pizza.

Pretty soon, a few days have passed. I think to myself "I should check that one thing" but I don't actually follow through on that impression. I kind of get sidetracked. Of course, being me, a few more days go by. Suddenly, I haven't checked that email thing in several weeks. All of my important applications, all of my conversations, all of my hourly newsletters...suddenly, they evoke a strange feeling in me. The word "hourly" gives me a weird cringy feeling deep within my being. What made me think I could handle an hourly newsletter? Penguins? What?! I don't even LIKE penguins! They're creepy, and they live in the cold, and nothing should be that adorable!

I get this odd sensation. Not quite guilt. Not quite apprehension. I call it "crap, I bet when I check my email, I'll have things I need to do. THINGS."



Inbox: 256 messages

From: spammyspam@isuck.scam Subject: EARN 328974kajillion dollars!@
From: penguinsrcool@hourly.com Subject: Breeding patterns of penguins
From: personwhoknowsme@yay.com Subject: ...Are you dead? email me back.
From: penguinsrcool@hourly.com Subject: An Egg-tastic ice-capade!
From: importantcollegestuff@filloutthisform.com Subject: Yo, do this or you out, girl.
From: penguinsrcool@hourly.com Subject: Solving the flight crisis
From: penguinsrcool@hourly.com Subject: Penguin feather fashion 101
From: penguinsrcool@hourly.com Subject: Penguincide-we care
From: emailservice@mailymailmail.com Subject: Upgrade your inbox, fool.
From: emailservice@mailymailmail.com Subject: ...Um...there IS a delete button
From: taylorlautner@hotsexybody.com Subject: Hey, answer in ten and come chill!

Page: 1 Skip to page: 1, 2, 3, 4...23



I look at this and I cringe. So...read the email. Right. This is the point where my enhanced endurance kicks in and I'm all "alright email. Let's do this."


Spam: deleted!
Penguins: breeding, educated about!
Friend: ignored out of embarrassment!
Penguins: so cute!
College: form completed!
Penguins: flight crisis, noted!
Penguins: fashion forward!
Penguins: dead!
Email service: ignored!
Email service: double ignored!
Taylor Lautner: WAHHHAHAHIEONG!

Man, I am on a roll. That only took me twenty minutes! Awesome! I am a capable person! I am educated about penguin affairs! I am ready to take on the....wait...how many more pages? Um...well...gee. One page of email has been taken care of...I think that's pretty good. In fact, I'm hungry. Can't check email on an empty stomach, now, can I? And off I go to make dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets.

The next day, being all email-conscientious and whatnot, I decide to apply for some things, subscribe to another newsletter about current events, and you know what? Hey, Facebook, is there a way to be notified by email whenever anyone does anything on you that vaguely affects me? There is? Well heck, sign me up!

Days pass, weeks pass, and one day, I get that feeling again...that "awwww man. EMAIL." feeling.

Click, click, click...SHOOTDANG, YOU'RE KIDDING ME.


Inbox: 638 messages

From: currentstuff@probablytragic.com Subject: Obscure president assassinated-act now!
From: application@appsareus.com Subject: Maybe you want to apply for this too
From: penguinsrcool@hourly.com Subject: Krill is good for eating!
From: scamerificspam@virus.usuck Subject: FREE UNICORN!!!!
From: facebook@socialnetworking.net Subject: This person just said this thing about you
From: caringfriend@thoughtful.com Subject: Worried about you. Speak to me.
From: currentstuff@probablytragic.com Subject: Massive explosion-sign explosion petition!
From: penguinsrcool@hourly.com Subject: A penguin Hanukkah
From: facebook@socialnetworking.net Subject: This may have something to do with you.
From: collegestuff@gotoschool.com Subject: Expensive books that you need to have
From: currentstuff@probablytragic.com Subject: Iranian babies fed bad milk. ZOMG!

Page:1 Skip to page: 1, 2, 3, 4...58

......but.....but.....

Whaaaaa?

I stare at the computer screen for a moment, daunted by the immense task ahead of me. I curse myself for not having finished my email-management several weeks ago. I question my need for penguin news. I promptly decide that I require penguin news in order to live. Sighing, I gather up all the vestiges of focus floating around in my body and attack with surprising relish.


Current events: president, cared about!
Application: heck yes, I want to apply for that!
Penguins: krill, a good diet indeed!
Unicorn: virus, attained!
Facebook: oh no she didn't!
Friend: assurances, offered!
Current events: explosion, oh noes!
Penguins: culture, accepted!
Facebook: does not relate to me at all!
College: books, ordered!
Current events: NOT THE BABIES!!

And like a coiled viper, she strikes! On to page 2! You hear that, email? Take that! We are no longer friends, and look at me kick your butt. Bet you didn't see that one coming, eh, email? Bet you're shaking in your emaily-boots. Bet you're calling your email mommy and--Hey I'm hungry. Can't check email on an empty stomach, right? Past experience has taught me that much. Well! Chicken nuggets, ahoy!

And the next morning, I think to myself "Hey, I should probably get more email stuff going here! Newsletters!! I bet there's a newsletter about pharmaceutical malpractice! Yay!" and I DO IT. I SIGN UP. BECAUSE I'M A FOOL. Eventually this whole process degenerates into guilt and denial. I don't email people back because I'm scared of reminding them that they emailed me to begin with, and also that would remind them that I have a level of responsibility comparable to a five-year-old boy who refuses to bathe. I pretend that my email isn't a problem. I grieve over that ever-growing pile of data, filling a tiny corner of the internet with useless junk that even I don't care about enough to read. At this point, I have two correspondences that I actually keep track of, one being an important person out of state, the other, an important person out of the country. I brace myself on appointed days when I know they will email, and dive into the sea of endless crap, typing and clicking as fast as my brain and dexterity will allow.

At this point, I even dread opening my email inbox. It taunts me. One day, one glorious day, I shall vanquish this foe. Until then, I'll probably just keep surfing the internet aimlessly, signing up for newsletters that pertain to absolutely nothing I want to know anything about. Kind of like this blog. Suck it, emailz.

Annoying stuff that I'm going to rant about, even though I do them all the time. Which is probably why they're so obnoxious to begin with.

There are always these things that people do and I'm all "GAR HOW DARE YOU DO THAT THING THAT IS BOTHERING ME!!!" and then whoever is doing that thing looks at me like I'm crazy just because I'm yelling and sound vaguely like a grizzled pirate. This post is about a few of those things.

1. People who are obsessed with magical unicorn sparkles

This is point number one on the case to get me kicked off the internet, since I'm totally obsessed with magical unicorn sparkles. AND THEREIN LIES THE PROBLEM. See...not everyone can love rainbows and princesses. If EVERYONE did, I would look like a stupid poser. I practically invented unicorn-obsession. I have a reputation to protect.

You see, I love glitter. It's my favorite color. I want a pet unicorn. I do. I do so bad. But then some special little...GIRL WHO ACTS LIKE ME comes along and guess what her favorite color is? It's glitter. And how many times has she tried to order a baby unicorn online? 56 times. Which is one more than me. And immediately, I think "you're going down, you fool."



Oh. It's on.

Not. Cool. Get your own interests, kid.
You threaten a six-year-old ONE TIME and suddenly you're not allowed near the children or kool-aid. Whatever.

2. People who awkwardly look at me while I'm driving


I do this all the time. I mean ALL the time. There's hardly anything interesting about other people when they're driving, but if someone magically summons a dragon while driving in the lane next to me, I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT IT.

I just don't like it when people do it to me, because if I actually knew how to summon dragons in my car, I wouldn't HAVE A CAR. I'd have a magical flying dragon. So you don't have to look at me. Nothing going on over here. Except that I think you're laughing at my hair. It's not THAT bad, okay?

And people who watch me while I drive make me feel...uncomfortable. It's like they're waiting for me to kill a pedestrian or forget to use my blinky thingy. (Blinky-majig? Blinkermatron? ...Whatever.)

WHY ARE YOU STARING AT ME?! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I'M UNSTABLE AND AM ALREADY IMAGINING FIERY DEATH AS A DIRECT RESULT OF YOUR STARING, PROBING EYES?! IT'S LIKE THE ANGEL OF DOOM IS EYEBALLING ME IN THE NEXT LANE.




3. People who overreact.

Do I overreact? Never. Except for that one time when my brother and his friend were fighting over a lollipop and it got stuck to my forehead and I started crying in the backseat of the minivan. Or that time when this kid was at my house and he shot a rubber band at my leg, and I immediately started screaming, and, through my tears, I ordered him to leave my house forever. Or that night when I accidentally set the oven on fire making bagel bites, so I sent a bunch of delirious texts to my friend Braeden about how I was going to die and HELP ME FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY. I may also have called him, but I don't remember. (In retrospect, maybe that one wasn't an overreaction.)

But when OTHER PEOPLE overreact, I'm suddenly the Superman of All Things Ever. I'm all "Psh! A spider on the wall? I squish wall-spiders every Thursday afternoon, right after swimming with Great White Sharks but before fire-eating practice. You weak, puny, human, with your irrational fears and weak puniness."




4. Blurry pictures drawn on paint

......moving on.


5. People who get grumpy for no reason


My feelings are tender. When people are grumpy, it makes me want to cry. And shoot them in the head with a machete. And since that's impossible, I want to cry even more. And then nobody is giving me diamonds, and I'm not watching a Disney movie, and the grumpy person IS STILL GRUMPY and I'm all "SHUT UP, I HAVE PROBLEMS TOO, YOU KNOW."

I get grumpy when I'm tired. Or hungry. When I'm tired AND hungry? Well...



But is it ever okay for other people to be like this? The answer to that is a firm and resolute no. Absolutely not.

When other people are in a bad mood, I have to be all considerate and crap. And even if I am considerate, a grumpy person doesn't care. Dude. I'm *never* considerate. BE HAPPY.

Also, I'm socially incapable, so I'm likely to say something like "Yeah? Well I don't care if you've had a bad day, HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE KARATE CHOPPED IN THE CALF MUSCLE??! HEYAHHHH!" And then I have no friends again.



Another thing I hate is writing when I don't feel like it.



I'm very sure I'll add more to this list...eventually. I hate deadlines.

Twilight: I'm gonna do you a favor, and you can just read this instead.

Skipping the preface, cause it's crap. Basically Bella's all "Aaah! I'm gonna die and stuff!"

Anyway. So Bella Swan is this chick and she's totally not pretty, except she really is, she just thinks she isn't pretty, you know? Bella is also really awkward and clumsy, but it's stinkin' adorable. So anyway, she moves from Alaska or Argentina or something (I forget) and she's all bummed because her mom married a baseball player guy. It's really sad. But it's okay because her dad buys her a truck! And she really likes the truck, even though it's, like, ugly and stuff. It's red.

Okay so fast forward to the next day, Bella has to go to school and she's embarrassed cause her truck is TOTALLY loud. But it's okay because all the other cars are really ugly except for this really shiny Volvo car, and that's cool because a Volvo isn't even that great. So yeah, the truck totally still rocks. So then Bella goes inside and there's some dumb stuff with people or whatever, and this Mike kid really likes her, but then Bella sees this guy named Edward. Bella is really cute because she's so awkward and clumsy.

Edward is really dreamy sexy hot. Bella talks about it all the time, and he has glittering gold eyes that probably ooze unicorns, but Bella never mentions that. I bet it's true though. Bella can be so unobservant. Also, she's awkward, and pretty clumsy.

Edward doesn't really like Bella at first, because she smells YUMTASTIC and he wants to eat her. Because, guess what? This is the best part. You know dreamy sexy hot Edward? Well, surprise twist, he's a VAMPIRE! Only don't worry, he only drinks animal blood instead of human blood and for some reason that makes his eyes sexy hot gold instead of red. Because that makes sense. It's not confusing at all that the type of blood ingested correlates to eye color. I like to drink baby dolphin blood, and that's why my eyes are hazel. So anyway, Edward. He's also very graceful and stuff cause of his vampire powers, which is in direct opposition to Bella, cause she's really awkward. She's also incredibly clumsy.

Oh yeah, bad vampires have red eyes. It's not really important, but that's okay, it is because Edward and Bella are TOTALLY IN LOVE so shut up.

Anyway, so Edward saves Bella from a car that almost squashes her. Then Bella goes to Port Angeles with her friends, and she gets all lost looking for a book store (Bella is really smart, so she needs new books because she's, like...way smart and stuff and she's so DARN CUTE with her awkward clumsiness) and so since she's so freakin' pretty, some guys are all "AAH HEY WE'RE GONNA RAPE YOU!" except they never say that, but it's implied, although it could just be that they need directions to Walmart or the pet store.

So yeah, Edward shows up in his shiny Volvo, and he's really mad about those guys because HE CAN READ THEIR THOUGHTS. Which is cool, and also totally makes sense. But he can't read Bella's thoughts. Because that also makes sense.

So they go to this restaurant and Bella eats and there's a hot waitress and also something with ravioli. I didn't really pay attention at this part. But I think Edward didn't even care about the hot waitress, because that darn Bella is so endearing with her clumsiness. SHE'S AWKWARD. They talk about how Edward is a vampire, and he's all "Bleh! I'm a monster!" and Bella's all "whatever, dude" so that's good because Bella is just SO DANG unique, and because of that she isn't scared.

Then some stuff happens, there's baseball and thunder, because vampires like to play in thunderstorms or whatever. Also, Rosalie doesn't like Bella. Bella also acts clumsy and awkward, and all the boys think it's way hot. And that's about all that goes down, except that Edward and Bella fall mad-hot in love and they stare at each other in the eyes in a magical meadow. So yeah this part was really boring, and it talked a lot about innocence. And lambs. For some reason.

Then they're playing baseball, and these three bad vampires (you can tell because they have red eyes. Told you it was important) they show up and James is all "I'm totes gonna eat Bella!" and everyone's scared and stuff, because delicate Bella is really clumsy and can't defend herself. Then James beats Bella up in a dance studio, and bites her, but it's okay cause he dies, except we don't get to see him die, we just get to listen to Bella complain about being in pain and I'm all "BELLA you're so selfish and awkward! Why are you so clumsy? Why don't you pay more attention to the cool parts, like vampire dismemberment and death?!" So Edward, who is, like, crack-addicted to Bella's blood, somehow sucks all the venom out of her blood and doesn't kill her. Somehow. I'm sure there's an explanation for why that makes sense. ...Look, he's hot!

So Bella goes to the hospital, and then she goes to prom, and she's really awkward and clumsy. Did I mention that she's awkward and clumsy? It's really cute and endearing.

Bella wants to turn into a vampire at prom because she's an idiot and is all "YEAH MAKE ME HOT AND SPARKLY AND HAVE UNICORN-GOLD EYES!" and she's 17, so she's kind of predisposed to be an idiot. But since she's so vulnerable and cute, it's okay.

And that's the gist of Twilight. It is very romantic and action packed, if you like the sort of action that involves driving kind of fast and talking about innocence. And who doesn't?

I keep trying to Photoshop griffin wings onto a unicorn with a machine gun, but apparently Photoshop hates me.

*Updated*: I'm not actually trying to use a machine gun to work Photoshop. That would just be destructive. Probably in an entertaining way though.


I won something at my school called the "Block E" award, a fact that I found out at graduation. I would tell you why, but I'm not really sure why. Maybe the administrators think I'm excellent. Or maybe they'd pegged me as the type to blow up the school if I didn't get some sort of special recognition. So they gave me a wooden "E" and a sense of unearned accomplishment. Sweet.

Sorry. School violence humor is not funny. School violence is bad. I love happiness and friendship. My peers are so awesome and I'm totally not going to blow them up and all the flammables under my bed are just for science experiments, I swear.


My award in all of it's glory. It came with a nice pin. The certificate says "This certifies that the official "E" of East High is awarded to Megan Prietzel, given in the State of Utah." .....So....can anyone else figure out what it is I accomplished? And now I feel like I'm under some pressure to be awesome, because I've got The Official "E" of my school. THE OFFICIAL "E". I am the official bearer of the official "E" which has officially been awarded to me. Does this school even know me? YOU SHOULD NOT LET ME OFFICIALLY BEAR ANYTHING. I will officially screw it up. Whatever, though. Now I'm the Supreme Dictator of the State of Utah and the official bearer of East High School's official "E", so I dare anyone to question my authority.

Anyway, I just really want to use my "Block E" award to do something meaningful. Like saving baby dolphins. Or I could travel the country with my wooden "E" and shiny red pin and speak to underprivileged kids about how sometimes you can totally get an award for doing absolutely nothing of any merit. Seriously guys, I didn't do a thing. It was like East High was all "Here, Megan. This is for being adequate" and I'm all suh-weet-tastic because it's about darn time someone recognized me for my adequacy. Do you know how hard it is to maintain that image? I constantly have to limit myself from being astonishing. Like a unicorn-griffin with a machine gun that wears a paper bag over its head so that people don't freak out and take pictures and sell them to trashy magazines and then the unicorn-griffin would have to go into hiding and stuff. So yeah. My adequacy=a paper bag.

Holy crap, I'm a great person.

I'm going to bring my "Block E" awards to job interviews and be all "I'm a winner, jerk-heads." So, yeah, take that, hard-working students who have "resumes" and "work experience" and "computer skills." I'm accomplished because of nothing.

So this is what achievement feels like.

Back by popular demand. Meaning one person kind of mentioned in passing that I don't post enough. People are so pushy.

Today was yearbook day and if there is anything more awkward on the face of the planet (other than myself) I'd like to know. I really, really suck at yearbook-ing, the verb. Yearbook day pretty much goes like this:

I get my yearbook. I write my name in it. I walk over to several people that I sort of like and I'm all "hey, sign my yearbook" and they do and I'm all great, I can leave. Then someone yells at me like "OMG MEGAN WE WERE BFF IN HIGH SCHOOL LIKE SIGN MY YEARBOOK!K#!!@" And I kind of just nod and think to myself "well, yes there was that one time that we did have a semi-conversation, so okay. I'll sign it." And then there are some people that I haven't talked to since freshman year that one time when we sat next to each other in some class when we had to speak to each other out of necessity. And they run up to me and are all "AAAHGHH SIGN!" And I do. And I look at their note. And it's all "Spanish was like soooo funny! That one time was hilarious! Scuba diving! hahaha inside joke!! Well, good luck in the future, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! KEEP IN TOUCH I'M SO GLAD WE'RE FRIENDS" And my note was all "You're cool, have a nice life." And then I feel like a jerk, because not only did I write a horrible note, but I also stood there for like ten minutes twiddling my thumbs because my note took .89 seconds to write, and this person is cross-legged on the floor, giggling and scribbling a novel. And I wonder whether I should pick their book back up and write more, or if that would look like I'm trying too hard...and I'm all "screw it, I'm already a jerk anyways" and then I turn around and yell obscenities at the nearest small child.

I was looking at my dad's old yearbook, and it's full of inside jokes and "let's stay friends forever!"'s and wanna know how many of those people ol' Ben-Jammin' still knows? None. Not a single one. Seriously. People are such flakes. What jerks. (I'll probably be the biggest jerk, in the future. I'll also own an army of robots and several Subway chains. I don't like Subway, but I've heard other people do, and I'm such a people pleaser. All I want is to spread happiness, and be a jerk.)

Oh! Also, I have a new thing that lets you interact with me in strange ways. www.formspring.me/megansquared6 is a page where you can ask me awkward, anonymous questions, and I have to answer or my face will explode. Not really, but I'll answer as if my facial structure depended upon it. Questions like this:

Featured question: If you could fondle anyone's knee pit, whose would it be?

My answer: Well, assuming fictional characters are off-limits, probably Mark Macey's, because he would probably enjoy a good knee pit fondling. Or maybe he'd rather fondle my knee pit. I'm not really sure, but it could turn into a knee pit fondling extravaganza. Maybe I should just advertise free knee pit fondling, because I think maybe I could charge a dollar per fondle. That way, I wouldn't have to choose, because I could fondle all day long. If it were a fictional character, probably Frodo Baggins because I'm kind of curious about hobbit knee pits. Are they like a hairy child's knee pits? Probably, except more hardy.
...What was the question?



If you don't know who Mark Macey is, then this wasn't funny to you. But...just trust me when I say that if you knew Mark Macey, you'd want to fondle his knee pit, too.




This is an advertisement that I created for my Journalism class. I used a technique I like to call "pancakes sell" in which I incorporate my secret advertisement weapon. (Hint: the weapon is a stack of pancakes.) Let me know if you'd like me to create one for your small business/social movement/personal entertainment. Better place your order soon, I expect the demand to be high.

Apparently horses don't like to be named. Except for ponies. They dig that crap.

So I went to prom, but not at my school. Which is weird. Because I'm about the last person on earth who would ever go to a prom. I'm so anti-prom, it's insane. And surprisingly, there was no disaster. I did not die. The world did not collapse. Even the heels of death that I had to wear didn't kill me. (I had to wear heels. The guy I went with is related to skyscrapers, I'm pretty positive.)

My "prom group" ate at this fancy Italian restaurant, and no one could remember its name, but they thought it was something like Biotch-y's. Which sounded both delicious and family friendly. P.S. It was Biaggi's. Whatever, you'll always be Biotch-y's to me, Biaggi's.

Anyway, while we were there, this friendly waitress informed me that she graduated from East High, and oh my goodness MEGAN DON'T YOU LOVE EAST?? And I was all "oh...yay...go leopards." and she got sort of excited. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I hate high school with the flaming heat of a thousand passionate suns. So instead I just thought of kickboxing flamingos, because that always makes me smile, and she seemed to think I was just reflecting on my grand and happy time at East. Good to know I enriched a life. I bet she wishes she were me. Probably, anyway. Except maybe not because I was wearing death trap heels, and if I were someone else, I would be all "NUH UH NOT WORTH IT."

And then I didn't get to try on scuba diving equipment. But whatever, it's not like I even care.
(I so care...do you have scuba diving equipment? Can I borrow it?)

BUT WAIT!

Prom was located at the Utah State Capitol and no one tried to arrest me. Either they didn't recognize me as that girl who once tried to be the Supreme Dictator of the State of Utah, or they were instructed to let me run amok because of my Jedi abilities.  For some reason.

Rich the news man was not there. He must have been busy.

When we first arrived, the Utah State Capitol Official High School Representative Administrator Woman told my date, Tyler, to spit out his gum, and we had a really long, really awkward conversation about it. And she kept looking at him expectantly, and Tyler was all "um I'll spit it out later." Well good 'ol USCOHSRA Woman wasn't down with that, and she kept doing that horrible adult thing and said "Oh but look at your lovely date! She's so lovely and beautiful! Your gum is making her look bad!" And I almost laughed, but I didn't so don't worry. I do have some self control. Also, when I get into awkward situations, I like to imagine that I'm captain of a pirate boat deciding which of my companions is disposable and should therefore walk the plank, because I have limited funds and the failing economy is really hitting me badly, and if I ever want to upgrade to a ship, I need to kill off a few of the mateys I have to split my pirate booty with. It keeps my mind off of the general "Well this is a terrible situation"-ness of things.


I wasn't even the clumsiest one at the dance. Tyler spilled water from the water jug all over the table and floor, and then he walked away, and we both watched as the teachers cleaned up his mess. He looked guilty. I looked worried. Why? Because! All the supervision was busy dealing with a water jug crisis! ANYTHING COULD HAVE HAPPENED WHILE THEY WERE MOPPING UP. People could have died, you guys. You can imagine what it was like.

Teenage horde: Let's behave!
Adult: OH MY GOODNESS LOOK AT THAT WATER SPILL! Quick, Angela, you get a towel, I'll turn off the water flow, and George, you go make sure there's still peanut brittle left in the kitchen, because I'm hungry. The rest of you stand and watch the water jug. ADULT SUPERVISION SQUAD, BREAK!
Teenage horde: Let's dance provocatively!
Adult: It's not drying, for Pete's sake! IT'S JUST NOT DRYING! Somebody get a mop and a hairdryer!
Teenage horde: Let's chew gum loudly!
Adult: It's like the gosh darn Titanic in here!
Teenage Horde: We're going to eat too many cookies and drink too many Redbulls!

And by the time the adults realized what was going on, it was too late and all those kids were NEVER going to fall asleep and would be really grumpy the next morning, and it was all Tyler's fault.

Pretty much the most "Megan is socially unacceptable" part of the night was when I fell asleep at the after-activity, which was supposed to be a movie night, and started crying when my buddy pals tried to wake me up. It went a little something like this.

Austin(not my date): Megan, what movie do you want to watch?
Me: (SILENCE)
Austin: She's sleeping. (Pokes me) Hey...time for school.
Me: UGHHHH gurgle UGHHH
Austin: (giggle) HEY TIME FOR SCHOOL YOU'RE LATE!
Me: (Whimper) Noooo shhh.
Austin: (giggle giggle) WAKE UP!
Me: (sit up, tears running down my face) STOP! I'M NOT GOING! (sob, fall back asleep)
Tyler (is my date):...poke her again.

And that's pretty much verbatim.

But I haven't even gotten into the best part.

Before any of this, something ridiculous happened. I rode a horse. And I was terrified. I rode TWO horses. Not at the same time, although that would have been awesome. But both horses tried to kill me. Not kidding, they started running around like maniacs the second I got on. And it was only for me, no one else was almost horse-mauled. Everyone laughed because apparently my fear noise sounds like dying horses. My friends are awesome. If I had a camera, I could show you guys pictures. Instead, I'll have to wait for my buddy pals to send me pictures.

So the first horse was short-ish and I only sort of had to hobbit-scramble onto it. I named it Crazy Killerpants Hitler, because it was horrible. And the horse trainer woman kept yelling "Don't pull the reins back so far, it needs head room!" and I was like...YEAH RIGHT. Because if it had head room, it would twist its head around and kill me with its mouth. And um, yeah, I'm not going to die of horse mouth, thank you very much, horse trainer woman. Then I got off and cried a little, because Crazy Killerpants Hitler wanted me dead. For real, guys. I could smell it. She kept randomly shaking her head so hard I though I was going to fly off and get trampled into the mud. Mud that was covered in horse excrement. Which is 3rd on my list of "Horrible Ways to Die" right after watching a 34 hour marathon of the Hills and eating melted cheese until exploding.

So then the horse woman was all "oh try this horse, she's the one we let little kids ride!" Really? They let the kids ride her? Because she was horrible, WAY worse than before. And I knew, because that wasn't my first rodeo. My first rodeo was approximately five minutes before that, and Crazy Killerpants Hitler taught me enough about horses to last me for forever and three years on the side. But because I'm brave, I decided to give it a shot. So I mounted a calm looking brown horse with a name that had to do with flowers. I think. It could have been more related to nuclear warfare. I confuse the two a lot. So anyways, I'm just trotting along on flower nuclear warfare horse, when the horse is all "I HAVE THE SUDDEN DESIRE TO KILL THE SMALL TERRIFIED CHICK IN MY SADDLE. LET'S DO THIS." and suddenly she's running towards a gate and a tree and I gave out some kind of unintelligible siren scream. And horse woman is all "PULL BACK ON THE REINS!" and I'm all "YOU SHOULDN'T LET KIDS RIDE THIS THING!" and I took back the name I had been considering calling her (Sunnny Sparkles Supreme) and instead her name is Deathray Julius.

I hate horses so much. Unless I'm not riding them. Then I just dislike them immensely. Except for the baby pony that I saw. It kept trying to eat my sleeve. He's called Webster Adorable.

I'm surprised she still talks to me, but not really because who wouldn't want to be friends with a super hero? Exactly.

Spring Break means everyone is out of town for a week, including my friend Morgan. While she's having a grand ole' time in California, I'm in ...West Jordan...AWESOME.

(Arguably Morgan might not be having an awesome time because of the earthquake, but ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? An earthquake would be super awesome. As long as I didn't die. Or lose a limb. Fingers are okay, though.)



Morgan: So what are you up to today?

Megan: Well nothing that is too interesting.

Megan: I might make some potstickers.

Megan: Maybe I'll give the dogs a bath.

Megan: Unless disaster befalls the city, in which case I'll put on my supersuit and save the word.

Megan: ....world.

Megan: Not word...

Megan: Although I could save a word, if the need arised.

Megan: Arose?

Megan: Arose.

Megan: Arised isn't a word.

Megan: ZOMG I'M GOING TO SAVE THE WORD ARISED.

Morgan: ok.

Megan: ...don't judge me.



I imagine she read that a couple of times, shaking her head and wondering how much sleep I got last night.

The answer? NONE.



Updated: Be aware, because this is probably going to be me.