Tavia and I talk drugs. Because that's what we do, yo.

Tavia: DUDE.  I'm working in a house, like fixing it up while I'm here, and I found coke, like the drug, in it today.

Me: Did you SELL IT.  I would have sold it.  And then CALLED THE COPS.

Tavia: I couldn't sell it, it was all over this shelf I was cleaning off.  Oh, and then I found weed in the freezer.

Me: How do you know it was coke?  Maybe the dude liked flour.  Or sugar.  Or crystal meth.

Tavia: It was coke.  We asked the other guy who was working with us.

Me: Did you smell it?  I probably would have smelled it just to make sure. Which is why I'm not allowed around cocaine.

Tavia: ...You have a lot to blog about.

Me: Wait, you found the weed IN THE FREEZER?

This is part two and it would probably be better for all of you if I just didn't post it but I'm not that considerate.

I'm not exactly sure about the chronological order of events after the juggling clown man, but there are some key points that need to be mentioned.  So in the places where I have forgotten the order of things, I will just...mumble.  Or something.  Or blame Tavia.  Or devolve into rambling about that one time that I spilled my Coke in the airport.  Just don't yell at me.  And now that my premature and inexplicable defense has been put forth, let's continue, SHALL WE?


My Airport Adventure: A Tale of Loss, Achieving my Dreams, and Strange Men Dressed as Clowns in Terminal A (Part Two)

You'll recall that when we left off, I was sitting in Terminal A wondering how I ought to have responded to a strange clown man flirting with me while juggling.  And wearing bright red overalls.  It is a situation that still haunts me to this day. 

Tavia and I sat and waited for our plane.  And as we waited, a man sat by us with his 14-ish year old daughter.  Tavia and I both had our laptops out and were discussing something that was no doubt incredibly intelligent and sophisticated and important.  On facebook chat.  While sitting next to each other.  We do this a lot.  The man started talking to us, presumably because we were both wearing BYU jerseys.  He talked about BYU, he talked about Jimmer, and then he talked about his son who had just returned from a mission.  It was pleasant, and Tavia and I returned to our conversation about the particulars of astrophysics.  I soon noticed a quiet power struggle taking place:

Man: Do you think they'll want to see Andrew's picture?
Daughter: OH MY GOSH.  No, Dad. 
Man: I think they will.  They're about the right age. *Reaches for his wallet.*
Daughter: Dad, please.  Please no.  Please, stop.  (She sounded absolutely mortified.)
Man: I'm going to show them.  He's going to go to BYU!  This could be perfect!
Daughter:  I WILL KILL MYSELF IF YOU SHOW THEM.  I WILL LITERALLY STAB MY OWN FACE OUT OF EMBARRASSMENT.

Okay, that last part was paraphrased a bit, but I could tell that his daughter was thinking JUST EXACTLY THAT.  I almost leaned over and asked to see the picture, just to put her out of her misery.  Fortunately for us all, the plane boarded at that precise moment.

The flight itself was uneventful and only two things are worth mentioning: first, my inexplicable inability to perform menial tasks with any sort of efficiency kicked in as I attempted to stow my carry-on luggage in the overhead.  Also, we happened to be in the first few rows of seats (I think) so everyone had to wait for me to be an idiot and my brain was all, "I AM GOING TO KILL YOU RIGHT NOW, IS THAT COOL?" And I just responded with, "Yes.  Please.  Now is a good time for that."

Second, there was minor turbulence in the plane.  This terrified me more than I can possibly explain.  I have this thing with planes, this thing where I'm not sure if I'm SO SO EXCITED or so terrified that oh!  Look!  Is that me peeing myself? Planes are awesome and I am so thoroughly intrigued and astonished at the idea of zooming through the sky while sitting in a chair, reading a book and eating pretzels.  Then again, planes seem very fragile to me.  Like gravity could just be like, "Eh, I don't think I'm cool with this many tons of metal being airborne after all."  And then we would all plummet to the ocean and die in a fiery explosion underwater.  Which makes no sense for a few reasons, the main one being that there is no ocean between Utah and Colorado.  BUT I DIGRESS.

As I said, there was minor turbulence on the plane that night because it was raining when we arrived at the airport.  When the plane started to shake, this primitive part of my brain punched the rational, normal part of my brain right in it's brain-face, and then proceeded to take over.  It didn't help that Tavia was seated in the row in front of me, and we both had window seats.  The guy next to me was a mouth-breather with an iPad.  He was watching Salt on his iPad.  The combined stress of watching Angelina Jolie being tortured in her underwear along with a near-constant jostling in my seat caused me to lean forward to Tavia and predict our death.  WE ARE GOING TO DIE, TAVIA, AND DO YOU KNOW WHY?  IT'S BECAUSE ANGELINA JOLIE IS A RUSSIAN SPY AND ALSO THIS PLANE IS SCREWING WITH GRAVITY, AND WHEN YOU SCREW WITH GRAVITY, YOU ALWAYS LOSE.

Needless to say, Tavia just rolled her eyes a lot and took it like a champ.  And told me to shut up a lot.  And laughed because I was sitting next to a large mouth-breather who didn't like it that I kept frantically checking whether or not Angelina was dead yet.

Eventually the plane landed and I kept wondering whether or not I would die horribly up until the moment we were walking out of the plane.  Because you just never know.  Anyway, nothing too terribly exciting happened next.  I had a wonderful time in Colorado, but this story is about the airport, and I still have to tell you all about the epic return trip.  So, in summary, this is what happened in Colorado:

-BYU basketball games that were awesome.
-Stalking the team around downtown Denver.  Also, meeting Brandon Davies.  He loves me.
-Driving home from the airport at 4 in the morning because Tavia and I had to take her family there so they could go to Hawaii without us.  Also, that was when we made up a version of "Friday" that was all about communist Russia.  It was very socially aware and at the time it seemed pretty profound.
-Mean Girls 2.  It's a crappy movie.
-Tavia punched herself in the face while jumping onto a bean bag.  It is the only time I have ever seen Tavia show any sign of weakness.  I didn't know she could bleed until that moment.
-Other stuff that I forgot about.

Okay, well I planned to write about the TSA lady who thought I was a tiny, deadly terrorist, but I can't because this post is already too long.  So there will be a part three.  In which I get to the part where the authorities start taking me way more seriously than they ought to.

Talking to me is dangerous because there's a good chance I'll blog about it.

My friend Carmen and I like to talk about anything other than the homework we are supposed to be completing.  One night, however, I texted her, asking about an essay for American Heritage in which we are supposed to discuss the Electoral College system.  This conversation (predictably) devolved into rabies and sandwiches.  It's like she doesn't even want to write an essay.

Carmen: Huzzah. It’s easier to write good about popular vote. And the more I learned about it, the more it makes sense. What’s wrong with our country?

Megan: Communism and rapists. And overpriced chip bags that are half chip-flavored oxygen. That’s what’s wrong with this country.

Carmen: Yeah YEAH! And-and… and possums! I mean, WHAT?! Are they, like, actually a contributing factor to the betterment of our country?! Psh! … ahem.

Megan: No! They don’t do anything! Just like… children under seven! Children under seven are totally communists. All they do is nothing plus drool.

Carmen: Also, the huge waste of money on the production of wrist-stressing tambourines is like… a huge waste of money. Add a hand grip for crying out loud!

Megan: Yeah! And plus, house plants! Do you know how much good, all American tap water we waste on dumb house plants every day?? Probably at least ten gallons.

Carmen: And why in heavens name are there suddenly BIRDS everywhere? Everywhere! On trees, and cars, and telephone wires.. Isn’t there some sort of cautionary discipline they can implement? I’ve got calls to make and I don’t want a sparrow cutting them short.

Megan: The bird epidemic is almost as bad as all these stupid schools. Like ‘ooooh the kids are the future’ and ‘education is important’ and crap. Well whatever because they’re just all over the place and they don’t ever do anything. I’ve never had a school make me a sandwich. I fail to see the usefulness.

Carmen: I wish bakeries would have some sort of law that forces THEM to eat the stale pastries they fail to sell and try to shove down our throats anyways. 1. They didn’t sell so they must not be good. 2. They are stale so they must be worse than before.

Megan: 3. They must be full of rabies, or else the cashiers would have eaten them by now. I would have.

I think we've just identified every problem in this once-great nation.

Happy Birthday because birthdays are important

I would just like to take a moment to wish my dear, sweet, slightly scary friend Tav a happy birthday.  She is lovely and tall and if you are a tall, attractive male, please send me a fb message because this is completely unrelated to Tav and has no bearing whatsoever on my birthday plans for her.

Happy Birthday, Tavski.

UPDATED: Tavia is totally not a giant monster beast.  She is actually very pretty and is not THAT tall, but I'm 5'1" so everyone seems tall to me, including Frodo.  Yeah.  Just thought I'd clear that one up because I AM NOT LIVING WITH A TROLL.  Unless she's actually a very pretty disguised troll.  Which really wouldn't be that bad and then it could be argued that trolls might be attractive.  Anyway. 

I WON SOMETHING. WHAT IS GOING ON.

This is not a real blog post.  THIS IS JUST ME SAYING THAT I WON SOMETHING.  Which is weird because I never win so now I have to go change my about page but it also makes me very happy because I'm now a winner!  For real!  I may now join the pantheon of all star winners, like Kobe Bryant and Celine Dion, who has won my heart.  In a totally not weird way.  Actually it's kind of weird.  BUT MOVING ON.

I WON SOMETHING.  Look here to go to Lara's blog, where I won a thing that means I will be receiving more things!  I get THINGS, you guys!  YAY FOR THINGS!!!!!!!  I had a little seizure of joy when I realized that I GET THINGS!!!!! AND I WON SOMETHING!!! SOMETHING AND THINGS ALL IN ONE DAY IT'S TOO MUCH!!!

This totally beats Jesse McCartney tickets.  Which is weird because I never thought I would mention Jesse McCartney twice on this blog, but then again I also never thought I would be getting things.  THINGS, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT??

An open letter to Miley Cyrus

Dear Miley,

Hey girlfriend.  How've you been?  I see you are still making music.  That's nice.  You've always liked the whole music thing, right?  Look, Mile-igator.  We need to talk.  It's just that...I don't know if we can keep doing this.

Don't get me wrong, I've been nothing short of a devoted fan.  In the not so distant past, my favorite TV show was Hannah Montana.  I had a Hannah Montana sleeping bag that lit up whenever it was touched.  I even had socks with your face on them.  Do you understand?  I wore your face on my feet every single day.  So I want you to know that this isn't about your past.  Really.  It's not.

I just think we've gone our separate ways, you know?  You smoke a bong and I'm not even entirely sure what a bong is.  You are really good at hip thrusting and I'm fairly positive that if I ever tried to pull off one of your dance moves, I would injure myself horribly.  You like to wear things that make your boobs look awesome.  I like to wear Star Wars shirts.  Do you see what I'm getting at here?  We're just different people, Mile-inator.

I'm really sorry, honest.  I wanna back you up here, but I don't know where to start.  When you got all naked sexy sheet-tastic for Vanity Fair, I defended you.  I figured that everyone is entitled to their own choices, even a preteen icon.  I still think that, Miley.  I do. 

When you suddenly popped up all over the internet in your underwear, I felt bad for you.  I felt bad that the media would inevitably bombard you with criticism and meanness.  I thought you probably would be really upset.  I was totes on your side, Miles.

And heaven knows that when your new music video came out and I saw you shakin' your thaaaang and crooning about how you simply cannot be tamed, I said, "Wow.  That girl does NOT want to be tamed.  Huh."  I might have shaken my head in disappointment, Miley, but I didn't condemn.  I still don't condemn.  I want you to know that.

Wow.  Is this as hard for you as it is for me?  Because this is really hard for me. 

Now, there's the bong video.  And there's that lap dance you gave your director.  Also, all that sexy-time dancing and sexy-sexy-time outfits.  I'm not really diggin' it, Miley.  Not at all.  But the real truth, the reason that we are totally over, isn't so much about any of that. The real reason is so much deeper.  So much more painful.  It's...well, it's your legs.

CURSE YOU, Miley!  Curse you and your hot, long legs!  Why?!?!  Why must I be tortured with jealousy every time I see them?  They look freaking AWESOME in heels.  They make your skirts and dresses incredible.  I HATE YOUR LEGS.  SO MUCH.  XOMGsfWIEAHOGIWIH!@@!!!!

I'm glad we had this talk.

Love,
Megan

I have a story. This is not it. Instead, enjoy this song.

I will tell you my story when I have the patience/time/motivation to write it down and illustrate it.  It involves dilated pupils and Costco.  So basically, it's going to be awesome.

In the meantime, my friend Mark (Nasta G) posted this original song.  He is one talented guy, and I especially like it cause of the video game music.  Ten points if you know what it is.

Seriously, though, this kid wrote a rap for last year's talent show at our school and it was both hilarious and extremely well-written.  I don't like rap, you guys, but I like Mark's stuff.  And it's not just cause he's my friend, cause I have plenty of friends who are awesome, but I generally don't link to their work.  I only do that if I'm SERIOUSLY into it.  And at the moment, this song is my "I'm pretending to study but really laughing hysterically at SparkLife comments" song.

Check it out, y'all.  Or peasants.  Followers.  Minions?  Commoners?  I still do not have my word. 

Brothers and sisters, check it out.

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.

I don't know why I haven't been elected yet

For my U.S. Government class, we went to the Utah State Capitol, which I'm pretty sure is a Capitol as opposed to a Capital. Although it has Capitals in it. I could be wrong, it's just never happened before.

So anyway, I thought that maybe this would be my opportunity to seize the power that should, by all rights, be mine. I figured it wouldn't be too hard to slip myself into some bill as the "Supreme Dictator of the State of Utah," but guess what guys, there are RAILS (LIKE SAFETY RAILS) AROUND THE BILL VOTING AREA. I think those areas are called the Senate and the House. Whatever.  But seriously, it's like they don't want me to write myself into a bill as a dictator.

I had to compensate somehow, so I entertained myself by having my friend Michael take pictures of me sitting in places I wasn't allowed in. Also, there were sombreros involved. And I met a guy who works for a news station, and we're now BFF's. So, yeah, I'm kind of important, almost better than the Supreme Dictator of the State of Utah.

At one point, Michael said he'd pay me a dollar if I ran away from our tour guide and up the stairs to touch the Senate door. Which I did, and I still don't have my dollar. And the teacher watched me run all the way up the stairs like "oh no, here we go," and it was awesome.


This is me sitting on a table I wasn't supposed to be sitting on. The tour guide caught me and gave me a sour look. Apparently we were in the governor's office. The governor really needs more comfortable tables.


This is me climbing on a pillar I wasn't supposed to be climbing on but the tour guide wasn't very tall or loud so I couldn't see her or hear her, so really, this is me trying to be a good student. It's not my fault if I have to climb on forbidden pillars in order to learn.


This is me sitting on a very fancy chair at the head of a very fancy table in a very fancy reception room reserved for special guests because all this fancy furniture is very expensive.

My favorite part were the golden cherubs decorating the ceiling. See, I thought cherubs were tacky, but since they're in the Utah State Capitol, I guess cherubs are alright by me. If I ever live in a mansion, I'm going to commission a dozen golden cherub ceilings. Cherubs for everyone!

Anyway, I wasn't supposed to be sitting in this chair, but I sneaked onto it after the guide turned away and Michael was just about to take a picture when some kid was all "HEY is she allowed to do that??" and I almost punched him in the mouth with my brain. But I didn't, because the Jedi believe in peace. So the tour guide sort of got this horrified look on her face and didn't say anything for a very tense moment. Then she was all "Um...I guess..." but I think since it was already too late, she realized she had no choice. Or perhaps the tour guide understood that the powers of the force aren't to be trifled with. She needs to have a serious conversation with the kid who tried to get me in trouble.


After that incident, I think I did pretty well, behavior-wise. At one point I saw a bunch of people in sombreros and I was all "...Michael...I really want a picture with them."  The above picture is photographic evidence that sombreros were in fact involved in my visit.

I don't really know what the sombrero people were doing at the Utah State Capitol. They probably heard about the cherubs.


The capitol was swarming with reporters and cameras and stuff but I didn't really notice until Michael was all "Want a picture with a news guy?" and I was all "DO I?!?!" which means yes. So I sidled up next to this guy, who had a lovely purple tie. Michael asked if he could take a picture of us together, and the guy was all "Um...really?" and because I'm brilliant, my witty reply was "Yes. I like your purple tie." At that point, purple-tie-man just sort of stared at me and said "Okay I guess." But not in a rude way. More of like in a "this-strange-girl-just-showed-up-beside-me-and-wants-a-picture-with-my-tie" kind of way. Actually, he was very nice and gave us his full attention. So purple-tie-man and I kind of awkwardly smiled and Michael snapped a picture and then the purple-tie-man shook my hand and said "I'm Rich, by the way" and apparently Rich is really Richard Piatt who works for KSL news. So, yeah, that's me rubbing shoulders with important people, guys. And if you go here you can read his bio on KSL's website, where he hasn't mentioned me, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time.

Behind me there's a press conference going on. I can only assume that all those people were there because they'd heard I'd be at the capitol trying to assert myself as Supreme Dictator of the State of Utah. Unfortunately, my tour guide, teacher, and fellow classmates weren't of the same opinion, so I never went and made my prepared speech. It was a disappointment to the entire news community. Sorry, Rich. I tried, buddy.

On the bus ride back, I happened to be sitting next to the emergency escape door, and did you know that when you open that thing an alarm goes off? Cause I didn't. Michael made me do it.