Finals and why they are ruining everything for the world

Hi.  Normally I would try to post.  Really.  But there's this thing about college and it's called Finals Week and it wears a pointy hat and cackles darkly at every college student in the world.  For the time being, Finals Week is my master.  That means that I have nothing for you.  Except apologies and this drawing of The Muffin of Shame.

I still feel like I haven't really made it up to you.  What can I do?  Hire a monkey to love you forever?  Summon a rainbow to follow you wherever your darling feet trod? Tap dance with feeling?  I just don't know.

How about another drawing?

YAY!!!!

Anyway, I should be back to posting ridiculous rants about crap that no one cares about soon enough.  Please love me in my absence.  It makes me feel like a real woman.

...Clearly I need more sleep.


Comment that I completely relate with: "Finals are the devil's quizzes. Just like stairs are the devil's hills." -Nadia Murti

Well. This was much less exciting than that time I sat around and did nothing.

Today, Utah was all a-buzz with impending doom.

All the news stations were reporting that there would be a massive blizzard.  It would be The Storm To End All Storms.  It would go down in history as The Storm Of The Century.  It was going to be terrifying and yet, somehow, cathartic for all involved.  It would forever change Utah.  All Utahns would learn the value of friendship and courage in the face of adversity.  There would be epiphanies and realizations and wrongs made right.  But there would be mass deaths.  Mass tragedy.  Mass Costco crowds, stocking up on essential survival supplies, such as pasta, bottled water, and huge tanks of propane.  Also, wolverine guns.  Just in case the wolverines decided to take advantage of Utah's weakness and launched an attack.

I hate snow, with the fiery passion of someone who prefers tomatoes to snow.  Snow is horrible.  Snow tries to kill me on a regular basis.  Snow is The Universe's greatest weapon against me.  I have already nearly killed myself in the snow this year.  I must trudge through the snow to get to class.  Really, there is no way to emphasize how much I hate snow.  "But it is beautiful!" you say.  Yes.  Yes it is.  It is beautiful in exactly the way that a siren temptress's song is beautiful.  But then you get close and it smashes you upon the rocks and dines on your flesh.

And yet...I was kind of excited for this Monster Of All Blizzards.  I imagined a world in which I was the grim survivor of a catastrophe.  The Catastrophe Of A Lifetime.  I couldn't wait to prove to the snow and The Universe, once and for all, that I, Megan Audrey Prietzel, would conquer The Very Deadly Snow Event.  I was psyched.

The suspense built.  I came home from school early, hoping to beat the Crazy Stormy Storm that was sure to begin wreaking havoc on Utah at any freaking moment.  Tension filled the gray, chilly air.  My mother stocked up the entire house with supplies.  I made cookies.  Shaped like stars!!!!  (They are so cute, CAN YOU IMAGINE?!)

I turned on the television and decided to wait for Poseidon If He Were A Storm while watching Star Wars.  I finished A New Hope.  I looked outside.  No snow.  I finished The Empire Strikes Back.  I looked outside.  Godzilla Snow Attack had not yet begun raining terror.

Frustrated, I turned on the news.  "What's the deal, News?" I asked the T.V.

...Okay.  Alright.  It IS the news.  I'll buy it.  Voldemort Blizzard is coming.  I can wait.

....

I IS BAKE COOKIES NOWWWWW!!!!!

Three hours later, I had an image in my head of utter destruction.  I was so sure that outside, the world had come to a halt.  The Dreaded Storm Of Peril had killed the entire state, I was positive.  Eventually, the star cookies were baked and all that remained for me to do was assess the ruinous desolation that was sure to be my neighborhood.  

This was what I pictured:

This was the reality:

 For someone who plots for the eternal death of snow, this was pretty disappointing to me.

WHAT THE HECK, NEWS?  You have deceived me.  It was at this point that I began to realize what was happening.

I turned on the T.V. again.  Scenes of white outs, standstill traffic, survival kits, and men speculating about humanity's odds of utter destruction dominated the news station.  My suspicions were confirmed.

There was no storm.  This was all a clever hoax.  All of the evidence, all of the hype, all of the news reports were a ruse, a strike against me personally.  Obviously.  And I had fallen for it.

Touche, Universe.  Touche indeed.

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.

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 have a title for this post unless you count "maybe I should call a priest" as a valid title, and most people don't. I think.

My dog Sam finally got shaved, which I think is pretty good because it was starting to look like I was walking the end of a mop. Just kidding, I never walk my dog. Is that bad? Should I walk my dog? Wouldn't he prefer to run free in the backyard? I don't like the whole dog walking concept because it inadvertently forces me to exercise and get fresh air and enjoy sunshine, which are the three things I shun. ...Not really. But seriously though. I don't want to walk him.

Anyways he looks like this now:

And also like this:



Except his eyes look like a devil/demon so I don't know maybe I should call a priest? Guys if there's a demon/devil thing living in my dog, I won't stand for that crap. Especially cause Sam is the good dog. And then there's the bad dog, whose name is Jacques. But honestly, if my name were Jacques, I'd misbehave too. And bite people and small children. And pee on couches.

I tried just now to take a picture of Jacques but it was really hard because he's the bad dog so he won't do anything I tell him to. Like "come here" or "sit still" or "go make me a sandwich".

So this is Jacques:




(Not my foot)

So that's the bad dog. I had to chase him and yell his name for like ten minutes to get that shot.

In the interest of being fair, here's one more of Sam, because I VALUE FAIRNESS.




Since I know the world is extremely interested in pictures of my dogs, I consider this a service to you. A service that demonstrates how pathetic I am. Except there are a lot more pathetic things I could be into, so technically this is a triumph over pathetic-ness, so I'm gonna go ahead and pat myself of the back, because this falls into the category of awesome pathetic-ness.

On an unrelated note, I got a sweet Rugrats T-shirt. My favorite episode was when they went to a medieval fair and fought the dragon. After that I was all what the heck mom, why don't we go to medieval fairs? And she still hasn't answered me. I totally would still go.

My eyes kind of look scary too.......priest?

Call me Albert, cause I'm about to discover the law of photoelectric effect

Matt: You cannot have a blog and not update it. Why am I following you if you don't post?

Me: Because I would blog about people and HOW CAN I BLOG ABOUT PEOPLE WHEN THEY DO NOT WANT TO BE BLOGGED ABOUT? That, and I'm lazy. And...it appears that I have a fondness for caps today...CAPS.

Matt: Well then, blog about something else. Persevere. In the name of science!

Me: Shall I blog about science?

Matt: Certainly, the science of properly applying eye makeup, as was so thoroughly explained to me on Saturday.

Me: There's science, then there's stuff people actually care about. Eye makeup falls under the latter.

Then I told him he was giving me license to blog about him, because he was talking about my blog. He told me that there's nothing to say about him and more to say about the rivalry between my dogs. How am I supposed to blog about science and canine diplomacy? I guess I could try to do something scientific-like with my dogs. Like make them sit in a tub of water and measure the meniscus or whatever.

What's a meniscus? Is meniscus a word, or did I make that up? Pretty sure that word appeared in my education somewhere. Whatever. I'm going to measure my dogs' meniscuses...

Meniscusi?
Meniscusises?
Menisci?
Apparently the plural for meniscus is menisci, cause there's no squiggly red line under it.

...

MENISCI. I just taught you a science word and made you seriously consider dog relations for the first time. You're welcome.