In case anyone forgot how unproductive I am

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

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

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

Jen+Lova says:

heya

megan prietzel says:

Hello, who is this?

Jen+Lova says:

hello to you too

megan prietzel says:

You don't know who I am.

I mean it's possible, but I doubt it.

Jen+Lova says:

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

megan prietzel says:

Ooooh I see. This is a spam bot. I GET YOU NOW.

Jen+Lova says:

nah, I am a vegetarian... no spam for me! haha

megan prietzel says:

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

Jen+Lova says:

a what?

megan prietzel says:

SPAM

SPAMMY SPAM SPAM

Jen+Lova says:

Cool... Well, I am Jenny Im originally from S.Florida... Let me ask you a question?

megan prietzel says:

Okay, but first let me ask you one. Is it fulfilling, being a spam bot? I mean, do you get a sense of accomplishment from your work?

I once considered being a spam bot, however I'm not a robot.

It was a poor career choice.

Jen+Lova says:

bot? like a robot? lol

megan prietzel says:

Yes, like your people, Jenny from South Florida.

Jen+Lova says:

i LOVE florida, my best friend Becky lives in Boca Raton, I visit down there all the time

megan prietzel says:

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

Jen+Lova says:

Which kinda women u in to ? r u in to NICE TITS or a NICE APPLE BOTTOM ?

 :)

megan prietzel says:

Well, as a heterosexual female, I'm not really into any women, regardless of their varying physical assets. I AM however, into alligators. Why did I not see more alligators, Jenny?

Jen+Lova says:

yes im real

megan prietzel says:

Ah, well that settles it then. You MUST be real.

Jen+Lova says:

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

megan prietzel says:

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

Jen+Lova says:

pics are old skool hehe, i like to do cam 2 cam :) i'm online right now http://www.reddit.com/tb/y90pm/im the main girl u see there, type to me on the right hand side of my video

megan prietzel says:

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

Jen+Lova says:

pics are old skool hehe, i like to do cam 2 cam :) i'm online right now http://www.reddit.com/tb/y90pm/im the main girl u see there, type to me on the right hand side of my video

megan prietzel says:

Oh, I think you resent that, robot.

I MEAN DEFINITELY REAL GIRL.

Jen+Lova says:

i dont think so

megan prietzel says:

...I think you did. In fact I can see that you did.

You definitely did, Jenna.

Jen+Lova says:

Yay... let me set up my cam n u can watch me shake my booty!! LOL.. brb 

megan prietzel says:

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

Jen+Lova says:

Ok! Click here http://www.reddit.com/tb/y90pm/and we'll have a PRIVATE 1on1 chat..There's plenty pix of me in there, if you like click the "join free" on top, then register and it'll take you straight to my webcam, I'll be there in a minute.. :)

megan prietzel says:

Is Booty the name of one of your alligators?

Jen+Lova says:

jennifer is my real name but all my friends call me jenny

megan prietzel says:

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

Jen+Lova says:

hey whats up sweetie?

megan prietzel says:

You know, I'm trying to have a conversation with you, but you're so disjointed that I'm starting to think you don't really know what's going on.

Like you're distracted, or something.

Jen+Lova says:

It might say that im offline, just start signing up.. im getting on now.. 

megan prietzel says:

Oh, oh so you're NOT online?

Wait, I thought you were DEFINITELY online.

I thought we were going to do this alligator thing. Am I being had, Jenny?

Jen+Lova says:

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

megan prietzel says:

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

Jen+Lova says:

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

megan prietzel says:

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

Jen+Lova says:

24/f/Houston

megan prietzel says:

I THOUGHT YOU WERE FROM FLORIDA.

I don't know what to believe anymore. 

Jen+Lova says: 

k u in?

megan prietzel says:

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

Jen+Lova says:

my cell is 206-222-1648, please dont give that out! lol

megan prietzel says:

I'm totally posting this to my blog, you know.

JESSICA, WHERE DID YOU GO?

I mean, Jennifer.

Jenny.

Whatever.

...There are no alligators, are there?

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

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.

Girls, please live by these words

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

GIRLS.  BE PRETTY.

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

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

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

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

Note the bird-man on top.  Trivia: it's actually a poorly drawn zombie being eaten by a bird.  Awesome.

That is what this book looks like.  Only better.  And...more realistic.  Although I don't know how that's possible, because it would appear that my MS Paint skills have only improved with time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I don't know what to believe anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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.