PREGNANCY! TIME WARPS! SPAM COMMENTS ABOUT BLORN!

Let me first start off this post with a heartfelt thanks. I've been off the internet for a while dealing with life (AND ALSO WORKING ON ANOTHER PROJECT BUT SHHH) and I returned to find some very comforting and kind comments about my miscarriage. I read every single comment and they brought a very special tear to my eye.

That tear quickly evaporated, though, as I realized that my comments section has been entirely taken over by robots posting about...naughty things. SPAM, guys. I have a feeling that this post may be what drew the sharks (or should I say, alligators. HA. Funny.) to the waters of my humble blog. As such, I don't think I can type certain words without drawing more. As this is generally a family friendly blog, I think it's safe to say that those words are not likely to make an appearance. But most of the comments were about something that rhymes with blorn. And blex. And blebcams. I think I've spent about 300 hours deleting them all, because sacrifice. Although some of the comments are just cruel because they'll start out with, "How do you manage such a fantastic website? You are truly a wonder! Very soon you will be famous!" and I'm like, FINALLY THE CREDIT I DESERVE until I read the rest of the comment which just devolves into, "Free chat blorn at spammypage.com!"

It's a cruel blow to my ego. The spambots are getting revenge for my harsh treatment of Jenny. Apparently they hunt in packs. Hide.

Please, know that despite the claims of these robots, I do not visit blorn websites and blebcam websites. Nor do I have any family members working in the blorn industry spamming my comments section. That I know of. If you are my family member and you have something you'd like to tell me, I'm all ears. And please stop spamming my blog. I love you but no, I do not want to direct my friends to your blebcam.

...Everyone knows what "blorn" means, right? We're all on the same page? Good. On to happier and more appropriate subjects.

 

I'm pregnant! As of today I am 13 weeks and 6 days along, and officially out of the 12 week "danger zone" associated with high rates of miscarriages. 

If you're particularly observant, you'll notice that we are having a time traveling baby. This is in no way related to the fact that I have trouble remembering my own age these days. Maybe I meant 2014. Maybe not. In either case, I announced with this picture and it caused some confusion as people wondered whether I was announcing that I currently have a 6 month old baby, or that in 6 months I will have a newborn baby. MYSTERIES!

But the correct answer is newborn baby in 6 months.

In thinking of ways to get this blog up and running again after my regrettable hiatus, I decided I might as well take you all along on the sweaty, uncomfortable journey that is the miracle of creating new life. I also will probably overhaul my blog design again...when I finally get to it. Now the only question is how do I make a visually appealing grown-up blog while still shoving unicorns into every illustration? So far, the answer escapes me. 

Without further ado, here is how the miracle of life has developed over the last 14 weeks.

Thoughts: It's a strange feeling. After two unexplained miscarriages, Eric and I (or should I say mostly I) were feeling a little down about the whole thing. I conceived this baby right after my second miscarriage, which surprised everyone. I didn't have much hope that things would progress normally, and it hasn't been real until this week. We announced yesterday because we finally got in for a Doppler appointment and were able to hear baby bean's heartbeat. I was incredibly nervous, because we'd had an ultrasound at 6 weeks, and the heartbeat was only at 90 BPM. If that number doesn't mean much to you...well it's not good. It's really low. As far as we can figure, the heart had just started beating that day, which is why it was still so slow and picking up speed. At our appointment yesterday, the baby had a very healthy 165 BPM. It's feeling more real every day. 

Doctor appointment: I have had a million appointments. Because of my unexplained miscarriages, I had to take many unpleasant tests. I can pee in a cup with my eyes closed now. No big. Also, I'm pretty sure my doctor might actually be a vampire because she ordered more blood drawn than I think is probably healthy. At every drawing I was like, "I see you have five tubes filled with my blood now. Are we almost done?" and the answer was always NO. NOT EVEN CLOSE. Still, I'm very grateful to have access to medical care and testing. It gave me huge peace of mind to know that, somewhere, a lab tech was looking at my pee through a microscope to make sure I'm healthy. That's what they do, right?

Baby: Beanie baby is now about the size of a lemon. He/she has a cute little face and can squint, grimace, smile, and suck his/her thumb. My baby can also pee. That's fun, considering the urge to pee dominates my entire life. Mother-child bonding time. We enjoy the same activities. Awwwww.

Weight: Since the beginning of pregnancy, I've probably lost about 10 to 15 pounds. That's what happens when the only appetizing foods in the house are pickles and pretzels, I suppose. Also, when you immediately throw up said pickles and pretzels. YUM.

Symptoms: I've had pretty much every symptom in the  book. I'm ridiculously sick many days, and battle constant nausea. The toilet and I have a very close relationship these days, both because my stomach enjoys the whole throwing up thing, and because my bladder has decided to fill itself every hour. I've also been enjoying regular migraines and fatigue. You know that sick, weak feeling you have after battling the flu for a few days? I feel like that most of the time. I'm taking Zofran, unisom, and B6 to control the nausea because I was losing too much weight and getting dehydrated. The medicine helps control things, but I still have pretty bad days. I also have insanely vivid dreams. They're so realistic that I often can't figure out whether events have really happened or whether I just dreamed them two days earlier. I think Eric's least favorite symptom is the mood swings. I get irritated more easily than ever in my life...I also cry more easily than is mentally sound. The other day I sobbed because our new Monsters, Inc. Blu Ray had three discs instead of two inside. Logically, I realize this is no reason to cry. However, that doesn't stop my eyes from tearing up every time I think about it.

Movement: Baby is apparently performing acrobatics inside of me, but I can't feel it yet.

Cravings/aversions/eating: I have an aversion to just about every food on the planet. Occasionally those aversions will go away long enough for me to experience an insane craving for something, at which point I'll go to the store and buy 17 of them. After about two servings, though, the aversion returns full force and I have to throw the rest of the food away. I am having a big problem struggling to control my craving for doughnuts this week. I haven't been able to eat too much, unfortunately. I can't really imagine ever enjoying food again. It's kind of tragic.

Workouts: HAHAHAHAHA. HA. HAHAHAHA.

Sleep: I could sleep for days. Unfortunately, I have to wake up every two hours to go to the bathroom, so my sleep is pretty interrupted. Also, those dang DREAMS...

Clothes: Since getting pregnant, my clothes fit better than ever before, what with the whole weight loss thing. But as I head into the second trimester here and my symptoms get better, I'll probably have to say goodbye to my skinny jeans. I hardly knew thee.

 Random: Now that I can finally talk openly about this pregnancy, I'll probably be posting a lot more about it. If you want to see all my baby-related adventures, follow me on instagram. There's a handy little link in the right column. Or you can just search "megansquared" on your phone. I also take lots of pictures of my puppy, Sherlock. 

Again, thank you for all of the support and kind words over the past few months. I'm excited to share this new journey with you all! And please don't send me links to blorn. Thank you.

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.

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.

Me: WHERE IS ALL MY SPECIAL K?
Brother: I ate it.
Me: WHY. THAT WAS MINE AND I BOUGHT IT.
Brother: It's my favorite cereal.
Me: I DON'T CARE IF IT'S THE ONLY KNOWN CURE TO YOUR LIFE-THREATENING DISEASE. THIS IS MY SPECIAL K.
Brother: Oh. Sorry.
Me: WHAT KIND OF HIGH SCHOOL KID'S FAVORITE CEREAL IS SPECIAL K?
Brother: Well, mine.
Me: I BOUGHT THIS YESTERDAY. I NEEDED IT TO PERFORM A VOODOO BODY RITUAL.
Brother: Eh.
Me: BUY ME MORE.
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.

I should just live in Costco

The other day I was in Costco (again, because everything happens to me in Costco, for some reason) (I think Costco should really pay me for all the times I've mentioned them on this blog) (well, I'm not materialistic.  I'll settle for their support in my bid for Supreme Dictator of the State of Utah) (or they could give me a gift card.  I'd like that too.)

What?

Anyway, I was in Costco.  I had to go to the pharmacy because my body suffers from a little thing I like to call "complete inability to function and be not-dumb" and I was pretty sure this was the correct Costco, the one where I fill all my prescriptions.  Except no it was not and being me, the only person in the history of the world to forget where her house is after living there for five years, I turned up at the wrong Costco.  BUT NEVER FEAR, said the pharmacy woman after I had waited a mere 30 minutes behind an old lady who kept hacking loudly and apologetically muttering, "Sorry, must be a tickle...I'm not sick...it's a...tickle" to no one in particular, as if all of us in line were keeping our distance based on her coughing and as soon as she explained the reasons behind it we would be like well that's a relief and hug her forever.

So the pharmacy woman was like KAY WE'RE JUST GONNA TRANSFER YOUR MEDICINE and I was like...um...kay.  Because in my mind she was saying that she was going to physically transfer my medicine from the other pharmacy to this one and I was trying to figure out the logistics but as it turns out I was, in fact, at another pharmacy where they also have medication on hand. I had to wait 20 minutes and in that time I basically ran around Costco like a woman possessed because why not, that's why.  I was like, "You can't throw me out, Costco!  I have my mother's membership card with me!  And I've written about you like FOUR TIMES.  And that's just so far!"

25 minutes later I was standing in an aisle seriously considering purchasing a collection of John Wayne movies even though I don't like westerns.  Such is the power of Costco.  Then I remembered that oh!  Yeah!  Prescription.  And I ran over to the pharmacy just in time to watch my pharmacy woman walk out with her lunch and I was like "HI WHAT ABOUT MY MEDS, LADY.  THIS BLOODSTREAM AIN'T GONNA MEDICATE ITSELF" but she just ignored me and went on her break.  So I stood awkwardly, trying very hard to both make eye contact with the other pharmacists and NOT make eye contact with the other pharmacists because I don't know how to handle myself in adult situations.  And so I waited for another 10 minutes.  And that's when I met a man.

He was walking around, muttering with a smile on his face, and every once in a while he would walk up to someone waiting in line and start a loud, apparently hilarious conversation with them.  Then he would walk away, shaking his head and laughing, and resume his muttering and pacing.  Then came the time when he decided to talk to me.  I didn't mind.  I like people.  Years of being socially inept have taught me to just embrace the awkwardness and I'm very good at it.

The man walked up to me.  His hair was sticking up at odd angles.  He was old enough to be my father.  One of his shoes was untied and his shirt was only half tucked in.

Man:  Well hey there!  How ya doin'?
Me:  I'm great, thanks!
Man:  You sure do look great, I'll tell ya that!
Me:  Why thank you!
Man:  My wife left me when I got this.
Me:  When you got...what?
Man:  Alzheimer's.

He stared at me very seriously as I choked on my own tongue.  I literally squeaked and sputtered as my brain ground to a stop and was like "Sorry, you're on your own with this one."  The man stared at me solemnly for about twenty seconds while I tried desperately to regain the function of my mind and say something appropriate.  I have never been rendered so utterly and unexpectedly speechless in my life.  But then everything was suddenly okay as he picked up the conversation, jubilant.

Man:  SO I GOT MYSELF A NEW ONE!
Me:  A...new...huh?
Man:  I got a new wife.  She's from Bulgaria.  Also, she's a rocket scientist.  That's what she does. Welp, bye!

And then I watched him walk away and I didn't know whether to laugh or not, but then I did because honestly?  I don't even have Alzheimer's and I will probably never marry a Bulgarian rocket scientist.  This guy's got me beat.  FOREVER.  Besides, he just seemed like the kind of man who would want me to laugh about it. 

I kind of wondered, then, whether or not I should have called someone.  Should this man be at Costco by himself?  Where's his Bulgarian rocket scientist?  How long until he trips on his untied shoelace?  But then he was gone, having done his job and done it well.

I think I'll just move into Costco.

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??

Sometimes I'm accidently funny without meaning to be. Also, sometimes I spell accidently as "accidentally" because I suck.

Updated:  Apparently it really is spelled "accidentally" and I've been right all along.  So it's kind of like my failure is a success, if you think about it.

I actually was planning on writing a very long illustrated post today, but a friend of mine brought something else to my attention.  Also, I've been working for hours upon hours on a special project for SparkLife, and when you see it you will be all, "THAT took you hours upon hours?" and I will say, "DUDE do you know how long it took me to draw four bears?  DO YOU EVEN KNOW ME?" and then I will indisputably win the argument and you will bask in my glory or whatever.

Anyway, my friend texted me a very long text but mostly what stuck out to me was something that a lot of people have asked me: "How are you so funny?"  He actually worded it differently, but the concept is the same.  And it's a question that a lot of people have emailed me about, and a lot of times they are looking for tips to help them excel at comedy.  So, how am I funny?

Well there's an easy answer to that.  I have no freaking idea.

To be completely honest, I don't think I'm funny at all.  If real life is any indication, I'm just an instigator of awkward conversations.  In actual every day situations my humor falls flat all the time and that's assuming I even know what to talk about to begin with because more than half of my life is spent like this:

Usually when this happens (EVERY DAY) I just run away as quickly as possible and retreat to my dorm room.  I'm still trying to figure out how to be socially acceptable as a human being, but so far most of my attempts at humor and conversation have been so painfully futile, I just don't say anything.  Or I'll go through this really horrible process in which my brain starts grinding against itself and my vocal chords issue forth a horrible buzzing sound.  Inside my head I'm all, "I need to say something.  I'm going to say something about zombies.  But wait!  Previous experience has taught me that talking about zombies is not successful.  What do I talk about, then?  Um, I could talk about how much I hate cheese.  But most people like cheese.  What if he thinks I'm a freak because I don't like cheese?  WHAT DO I DO!?  Oh no.  It's been like 2 minutes.  I should say something.  He's probably offended.  But if I say something now, he'll think I'm an idiot.  Wait, what did he ask me?  I don't know.  Something about zombie cheese.  Ew, gross.  But...in a cool way.  I would totally like zombie cheese.  Not to eat, but just to look at for a minute."  And then by the time I formulate an acceptable answer, my conversational partner is gone and by then my brain is trying to bash it's way out of my idiotic skull anyway so it doesn't really matter.

But here, on the magical world of the internet, I have found that everything is wonderful and full of love and happiness and puppies and puppy-ness.  And videos of cats in boxes!  And EVERYONE likes zombies!  And suddenly, I'm funny.  But I haven't ever been funny before.  That's why I'm at a total loss as to answering your questions, see?  People ask how to be funny or how to make their blogs funny and I'm just all "Uuuuuummmmm......" and then I start giggling nervously and talking about spaceships because I'm scared that my secret will be revealed and everyone will realize that I'm not funny at all.  So here are my comedy tips: 

1.  Be funny.

2.  Don't be not funny.

3.  When in doubt, draw a really terrible picture of yourself.

4.  When that doesn't work, wallow in self-pity.

5.  Mention glitter as often as possible.  Also, think about dinosaurs a lot.

6.  Be mildly offensive.

7.  Draw more things.

8.  Read blogs that you think are funny and try to draw some inspiration.

9.  Be pretentious and immature.

10.  Eat debilitating amounts of junk food.

...And that's about it.  That's all I've got so far.  I'm learning, brothers and sisters.  Thank you for liking me, because I certainly like you back.  Let's be together forever.

I forgot to title this. Fail.

 Today has been full of blessed miraculous miracles.  If you're a new reader, go down a couple of posts, cause that's where the funny is.  I promise I'll get back on top of being a good blogger soon.

The first post in my new series, tentatively titles "Megan's Life Lessons," is now up on Sparknotes.  ON THE FRONT PAGE.  Click THIS to take a look and possibly laugh.  (P.S. apparently my flaming paperclip of glory looks like a flaming pad.  WHOOPS.)

I love every single person who reads, comments, and subscribes, and you all get to come to my VICTORY PIE party.  (There will be victory pie.)

Would anyone like some victory pie?

Hey there, everybody.

I'm a terrible blogger, I know.  AND I'M SORRY.  It's just that things are getting a little exciting/crazy for me.  I have been writing posts, but right now, they're not for megansquared.  Vague and mysterious, no?  Well that's just how I do things here at megansquared.

Anyway, here's the big news:  If you live under a rock and you don't already know, Sparknotes.com has an awesome, hilarious, hugely entertaining section called SparkLife.  I have wanted to write for SparkLife for, oh I don't know, forever.  I emailed them, tempted them with some prime blog posts and links to this here blog, and BAM!  That onomatopoeia references my new series, which as of yet has no clever title.  It also has not been posted yet.  I am working on it, and as soon as it is up, I will post a link here so that all may bask.

Also!  Contest!  If you can think of a clever/hilarious title for my series, I'll reward you with a personalized drawing!  It might even be a good drawing!  Probably not though.

The series is going to be a lot like this blog; it will be random and have no real linear structure.  Because that's how I roll here at megansquared.  And now at SparkLife.  What of it?!?

Shoot me your ideas, yo!

P.S. Apparently my brilliant layout doesn't look so brilliant in some browsers.  If you use Google Chrome, you're probably seeing something ugly instead of something beautiful.  I apologize.  I would fix it, but I don't know how.  So I won't.  KTHXBAI.