A Readership of 1

2006-09-11T20:01:00.000-07:00

im blogging again to tell you about the woman i saw today in the skyway. she wore a brown corduroy jacket. purple corduroy pants. and purple corduroy clogs. it was like a corduroy tuxedo that was half purple. it needed to be put on the internet for the whole world to see.

2006-03-13T14:29:00.000-08:00

it snowed a whole shitload here today. i dont like it. i thought winter was over, but because of it i didnt have to go to work. the damn bus just decided to not come. i was pissed but not really. i actually have something to post for you today. so of the great things said/overheard this weekend:

me: 'seriously. you have to turn the car. put down the mandolin'

sam: 'kate, there is a situation in the kitchen(from downstairs on his phone)'
me (in kitchen): 'scott, why are you laying on the floor'
scott: brian hit me (on the floor with a bag of hashbrowns)
me: where and why
scott: in the head cause i slapped him
brian: i hit him with my FIST

rob: i know how to get in a fight. im going to slap a girl in the ass who i know is with her boyfriend. then he'll hit me...you'll back me up right

2006-03-10T18:25:00.000-08:00

look at me look at me. i blogged two days in a row. so tonight im going to a beach themed party, except by beach themed they mean not at all themed. no swimsuits because that makes the girls are crazy when they're drunk. so you're supposed to wear what...sunglasses? it doesnt make any sense. not that i think every party has to have a theme. i just dont get why youd make one and then cancel it. but anyway. nobody cares about that. it was 55 here today but its supposed to snow this weekend. i swear minnesota is even worse than wisconsin for shit like that. honestly. it's march, the snow should just go the hell away. and now im rambling. if anyone around here is going to be around st. patricks megan and emily will be up here.

2006-03-09T15:48:00.000-08:00

i feel like i should post more if we're ever going to get enough readership to quit our jobs and lay around watching bad tv. so i've been sick like a damn outbreak monkey all winter. i was sick again all last week and the start of this week. last night i was finally getting over the most recent attack on my immune system. then i wake up this morning with my allergies going crazy. there is a small brightside to this at least...i cant smell the dead mouse in my wall. yeah. its really really gross. and now you're all wishing i would go back to never posting arent you?

i also got sucked into project runway this season and i can i just state for the record how happy i am that santino lost but how pissed i am that daniel didnt win. even if i didnt like his designs the fact that dan savage constantly talks about doing him makes him really hilarious to me. but i still liked his designs better dammit

2006-03-03T15:09:00.000-08:00

so as demanded by bditter. here is a post. im going to give you a quick rundown of some of the better moments of detrie and emily in the mpls. the 612, if you will.

first, it turns out detrie likes to injure me while drunk. this started almost immediately with two solid kicks to my left thigh. she was barely drunk, just wanted to kick me. which i understand in a way, ive wanted to kick lots of people, but not generally people i like and havent seen in forever. i guess that's why im not detrie. she also tried to tackle me on the way home from the party the next night. luckily i am an excellent deflecter. she just bounced off me and hit the ground, putting a hole in the ass of her pants. haha, try to tackle me, you get beat down.

second, emily likes to share about washing people. i love hearing about emily's new job and what shes doing, but the enormous detail of penis washing is very very odd. i was happy to see she still giggles when saying penis though. i hope that never leaves.

third, we went to a frat party. none of us had done that in a very long time. now it doesnt fully qualify as a frat party because i requested the remix to ignition and they didnt have it. which to me, makes them unacceptable not only as a frat but as people, but that's a whole new story.

fourth, we bowled and played massive amounts of dead bed wed. if youre reading this and dont know the game leave a comment and ill make sure to explain, but we pretty much covered every damn person we met over the weekend or knew prior. it's always a good time.

finally, detrie is TERRIBLE at darts. i mean really really bad. she has also lost her beer pong skill, which is very dissappointing. we also got one of my roommates to kick the ceiling in his underwear...twice.

2006-02-21T18:10:00.000-08:00

blogger wont let me post the graph i worked so hard on. im very upset about it and i know you guys are too. im going to keep trying and possibly do it over in a different way so maybe you can see it. im sorry for getting everyone all worked up, but i have a different surprise for you instead...a picture of sam-----dreadless!

2006-02-15T16:27:00.000-08:00

so im working on a very top secret graph for the blog. i think it will rival any tegan and sara or gilmore girls graph. i can only work on it at certain times though so it may not be around till the end of the week. i just wanted to keep people coming back to see it. i hope everyone had a good v.d. i spent mine watching arrested development and playing darts. yeah, darts, i bought a dartboard. im cool like that.

2006-02-06T16:18:00.000-08:00

hey hey hey. guess what. the fucking malibu is broken. if i ever drive a car for more than 3 months without any sort of problem it'll be a goddamn miracle. but..."oh wait" you say, if you only bought that car three months ago it should still be under warantee. well you my friend are grossly mistaken, because evidently if you take your car in for an oil change at 3000 miles, like they tell you to, and they find another problem that in no way could have happened THAT GODDAMN DAY it doesnt matter. your warantee is void because it's been 3000 miles since you bought. so yeah. fuck them.

2006-02-02T16:01:00.000-08:00

jesus. there has been a rash of detrie posting. it's freaking me out. i thought she was dead for real, not just dead to me (she needs to come visit). i think it's fun that we no longer have our one reader. i think he may have died also. the only reason i ever posted was hoping against hope that maybe pat would comment on it.

2006-02-02T07:06:00.000-08:00

Two of my co-workers just claimed Phil Collins sucks. When I defended him they pretended I wasn't talking, but said "Tarzan" was his best work.

I can't live like this.

2006-02-01T08:50:00.000-08:00

Our friend Emily recently got broken up with in the style of a toddler throwing himself to the floor and holding his breath until he passed out. Simply, a 25 year old man got angry at Emily for making him walk 5 blocks, stomped back to his car and drove back to Milwaukee. (the relationship's demise was inherent in the action) This was one of many bizarre attempts to gain Emily's favor, along with accusing her of cheating, lesbianism, and asking about her 5 year plan on the second date.

Her first contact with him since was the arrival of an e-mail a few days later, letting her know he wasn't mad, and wishing her the best of luck on a forthcoming job search.

Being Emily, she didn't know how to reply, so I sent her some ground rules for ex-boyfriend e-mail etiquette.

Here's the rules, if you choose to reply you must:

1) Make sure you're e-mail is shorter than his

2) Has a cordial and sensitive but detached tone.

3) Be kind, but careful of being overly generic or specific

4) Avoid mentioning how many men you've tongue-kissed since the relationship ended.

5) Possibly mention the lesbian rampage caused by the heartbreak of your relationship's demise. Remember to use the phrase "muff buddies" "erotic oil wrestling" and "multiple orgasms"

those are just some general rules to good break-up e-mail writing.

I know all of our readers (Pat) are in a emotional time in their (his) lives, going through big (lameass) changes having nothing to do with puberty and may need my assistance to remember how to act socially acceptable. So Pat, when the sentimental e-mails start where you lament how much you miss us, please remember, we're through now. You abandoned Dan and I and it will never be the same again. You can't get the magic back just because you have Lost Season 1 on DVD and a bag of Qdoba. Save your time for working on writing your Tegan and Sara Fan Fiction Novella. It's over.

2006-01-30T13:29:00.000-08:00

Weekend Conclusions:
I am an asshole.

Let me tell you about being me. I get drunk, too drunk off of hard liqour. I do my best to avoid even mixed drinks. If is isn't beer or brandy old fashioned's with my mom. I tend to react poorly.

Saturday night I was dragged to a houseparty with a "raver" theme. A rave you say? no, just themed. The difference: while a rave, full of hopped up kids in shiny metalic vests dry-humping each other and engaging in massive group orgies sounds awesome; twenty underagers with 3 for $2 shots listening to really shitty electronica and not humping anything sucks. The host had braces. I was at a party with orthodontia. I am old.
After being there and having no one dance, Laney, being a reformed trick-ho of a dancer took over DJ duties, and started playing hip-hop. People started dancing, I started doing shots to make the pain of being the only one old enough to remember Punky Bruster go away, the party got better.

(Sidenote: the raver themed party playlist included: Barry White, Relient K and the entire second Taking Back Sunday cd, clearly these jackasses have no idea what it's like to puke off of three tabs of E and 4 shots of whiskey)

Eventually I got into an argument with one of their hosts, and Laney had to pull me away to stop my inquiry of "Silverstien? Are you serious? Do you even have a penis?"

We left, and I persisted to throw back a quick vodka cranberry then meet up with Emily, Heather and Heather's boyfriend at The Plaza. By the time I hit the bar, I was pretty drunk. I then proceeded to verbally accost the District 8 Alderman, privately compare his sexual prowess to Mike Verveer, District 4 Alderman.

The night gets kinda blurry after that. I remember some key things: when asked my opinion about a certian bar (Brothers) here in Madison I replied with "that bar is for douchebags and rapists," then agreed to a horsey-ride from a stranger to Brothers. Mid-way on my lone piggy-back ride to Brothers I ran into my co-author's twin sister- B Ditter. I dismounted and released my drunk friend back into the wild.

I followed the other Ditter to Real Chilli, ignored 5 phone calls from Heather, got fed candy, tried to hide the fruity deliciousness in Nick's chili-dog, got bored, stumbled off on my own.

These events count for a total of 25 minutes of my night. I started drinking at 10 and got home at 3 am. What I did and said inbetween will remain a mystery lost to the ages.

2006-01-25T13:33:00.000-08:00

Kate, you'll have to tell me how to post pictures, that way I can tell all of you the story about how when I was in high school, I made out with a guy who grew up exactly like my brother, the best part of the story is my mother's reaction. But unfortunately, it means nothing without pictures of the both of them (eerily, both named Chris) If I had a shrink, we'd probably have to spend a month of the emotional implications of this discovery.

I am posting from my new job, as a bank teller. Unlike Kate, I have no stories. I am a terrible bank teller. The girl who I was assigned to shadow is so sick of my lame tolerance that she's starting to sound hostile. Whatever happened to grinning and shrugging at the New Teller Hijinks. She didn't laugh when I got my tie caught in the check recording machine almost strangling myself, when I approved a wire transfer for sixty ba-zillion infinity dollars to the "I.M.A Crook State Bank of Bangkok" or when I replaced the bosses coffee with instant gravy, or left all my member information in my drawer for cleaning staff to steal account information from.

I'm sorry, financial world, I am simply not cut out to be good at handling money and clicking buttons. Which is surprising given my love of high stakes poker and hours spent sophomore year reading blogs and chatting on the internet with washed out rock stars from Long Island.

2006-01-23T20:18:00.000-08:00

my roommates new plan to get me high:

either a) make weed butter, then brownies and give one to me because let's face it, i'd totally eat it

b) get a refridgerator box, trap me in it, duck tape it to the floor, cut a small hole in it and blow in smoke until i'm high. in the case of this plan they've told me to watch out for flying boxes

2006-01-19T15:12:00.000-08:00

i'm going to tell you about the weird things that have happened to me at lunch in the last week. so, im doing bank training in a 28 story building in downtown st. paul (you need to know this for background dammit).

monday- it's martin luther king day but i still had to go to training. not the point of the story but it sucked. so i get in the elevator on the 2nd floor to go to 7. 7 wont light up. so i stand in the elevator pressing the button like an idiot. another girl gets in, she is also going to 7. we both stand there like idiots pressing both buttons for 7. still no luck. we ride to eight, thinking we'll just walk down. door is locked. we ride to 10 when a guy gets on. he asks what we're doing. i embarassedly tell him we're trying to get to 7, he laughs and says, "that floor is closed, it's a holiday" but then uses his key to let us off on 7.

tuesday- i'm eating in the 7th floor breakroom and decide that instead of the elevator i'll walk down to the 2nd floor. it's one of those things where i feel guilty going down in elevators if it's less than 6 floors. so i get into the stairwell and im promptly locked in there. there was no sign, no indication that i was going to be forever locked in the stairwell if i opened the door. nothing. and there i was. i walked up, and down and back up, trying every door with no luck. finally a guy walks in and i ask him how to get out and he was excited because i "gave him a chance to be a white knight", but really all he did was have a key.

wednesday- i'm in the skyway eating lunch. (the skyway is a mpls/st paul thing that connects buildings downtown so you dont have to go outside, there are restaraunts and stuff) a kid sits down next to me. he's about 10, alone, and eating mcdonalds. not in school (which there are none nearby anyway), not with a parent or a friend. i look closer and he's wearing a pink shirt that says "keep laughing, this is your girlfriend's shirt"

2006-01-18T14:49:00.000-08:00

happy birthday megan! i wish i could be there but i cant. i dont like you enough quite frankly. have a beer for me, or indian food, or whatever it is that you're doing. marc and captain morgan also say hey, well i cant be sure about marc, but i know the captain well.

2006-01-17T15:24:00.000-08:00

it's somebody on this blog's birthday tomorrow and it's not me

2006-01-11T19:06:00.000-08:00

hey, if you're reading this you should really start reading something better. like www.dooce.com

you'd like it a lot more. i promise

i just realized that by linking to her maybe we'd get like one more hit. that was sneaky of me

2006-01-05T15:55:00.000-08:00

i just want to clarify...sometimes i was/am too lazy to make rice-a-roni and made pasta. just so you know that i am obviously very skilled and qualified to do many things. and i just wanted to make sure everyone (except nobody reads this) noticed that i'm the one with the important job at the moment and man does it feel nice.

2006-01-05T13:56:00.000-08:00

Alright my little ones,
I have a little true to life story, like reality TV, only no one is being mauled by dogs.

Here is the educational experience of either authors of this blog, or our friend:
A) Journalism BA
B) International Studies BA
C) Nurse Practitioner

Three young women, highly trained in their field, the nurse spent two days a week telling Mexican immigrants about menstruation and pregnancy, the journalist spent semester after semester thanklessly interning for horrible and frustrating bosses, the IS major spent a lot of time eating rice-a-roni. Diverse backgrounds, highly qualified upon graduation in their respective strengths.

Guess What Each One's Job Is Now:

Answer: Working at a bank.

As it tends to go amongst old friends, Kate and I are similar in our life paths. I too am employed... by a bank. While Kate is probably on the fast track to financial specialist, I am a lowly teller.

Though I will not let this hold me back, as I said in the interview, I am a person interested in a job where I can grow. (I said it often, too, to prove just how sincere I was.) "I applied here, because there are many opportunities for advancement" "I am looking for a position with job growth potential" "I am dedicated"

The true meaning of each of these sentences:

"Wah wah, I am a liar."

But, obstacle #1 down- I am now gainfully employed... Oh, and I'm immune to Typhoid, though my arm hurts.

One step closer to moving abroad.

Now all I need is a place to live when my lease is up next Saturday, an actual internship abroad and a clean result on my TB test on Friday.

Sidenote: I'm finding a certian satisfaction in the abuse of the "bold" function. For future posts, I would be far more impressed with a strike through option however.

2006-01-03T16:27:00.000-08:00

i started a new job yesterday. so far it is the exact opposite of fun, which would be "not fun", for those of you who dont have to work in a bank i felt i should clarify. so far i've spent 12 hours working on what im calling a homework assignment. i read through a whole bunch of information and answer silly questions. if i had been working at a normal speed this probably would've taken 3 hours or less, but because i know there is nothing for me to do when i finish i've somehow managed to make it stretch, with some still to do tomorrow. today while i was staring at it, not writing, while one of my new co-workers laughed at me, one of the customers looks at me and says "is that all you do all day? i want that job." which caused everyone in the building to look at me. it was wonderful. at that moment i realized i was making almost 50% more than i used to make and had not yet done a single thing and wont have to do anything for at least a month. even if this job starts to suck, at least i had this experience to remind me how much i hated my old job.

2005-12-28T18:33:00.000-08:00

wow. merry freaking christmas. somebody is posting! woo! so ive got all kinds of good stories from my time in wisconsin but i think ill keep it to one story in this post. we gotta spread them out so i seem more interesting. so it was decided by the powers that be, my aunt, that we should take a cousin picture for my grandma and as you know from the previous post my cousin is miss seventeen. and that is how the fun begins. all together there are 10 of us, which makes the hole picture thing slightly irritating in the first place but it only gets worse when miss seventeen is involved. we got a friend of ours to do the pictures and when to someone's house for it. we started with funny pictures and then a few serious ones. nothing exciting happens until after we all break up to go back home. turns out every single picture is almost ruined because she is posing in them. not posing like "cheese, smile" but like she's on the cover of a magazine. i think this makes perfect sense because grandma's fridge is just like a magazine and at least it is an accurate representation of the new family dynamic...she poses, i looked cracked out, you know, the norm. i have to say though, if they make me do it over im going to stand in front of her for all of them just to be a jerk

2005-12-20T17:00:00.000-08:00

well, i haven't been evicted but i still have some important news. my cousin is now miss seventeen of mtv reality star fame. i know, impressive isnt it. it's almost like im related to someone famous, even if it is just mtv famous. the final episode aired last night and i'm sure will be replayed for months on end in true mtv fashion. you should watch it. its not very good but now that you know someone on it is related to me it should make it all the more exciting for you...the one of you who reads this. her name is jennifer, she's cute and blond and a cheerleader. its kind of hard to believe she related to me actually, but she is. woohoo. congrats to her though, even though she'll never read this because i wont tell her and lord knows we wont be famous anytime soon. fame takes at least a month last i heard. in other news i went to xmas parties all weekend and from my wonderful insane grandma i have received...wait for it, wait for it...kitty pot holders. yes you read that right, kitty pot holders. i can now scorch kittens every time i cook. i can tell you are as excited as i am. ill post a picture soon, if i can ever figure out how to do such a thing. it cant be that hard but im not very smart. another side note, i dont like using capital letters, just as a warning.

2005-12-19T16:36:00.000-08:00

Twice now I have been evicted from a house I've never lived in by a male fashionista. What the hell am I talking about? I'll tell you.

I was recently contacted by J offering to let me sublet from him on a month-to-month basis. I had almost shared a room with E in this house in the fall, but it was vetoed because I refused to pay for any months I wasn't living there. (Eviction #1) But, after gratefully agreeing to sublet from him come January, I received a facebook message telling me he's found someone else. (Eviction #2)

I have one thing to say, FACEBOOK? I was facebook message evicted? What is that? Seriously, I use my facebook for stalking middle school crushes, not turning adorable young girls out on the street, where they will assuredly develop a crack habit.

ON TOPIC
After sending out over 7 applications for the prestigious job of "Bank Teller" I finally had someone call me back. What did I do? Immediately place a follow-up call to another bank where I, out of sheer excitement, blathered on about being an asset to teams, you know, if they were, uh, to hire me. Great right? Not if it's on the voicemail. Seriously. and I'm the business-y one out of all of us.

So anyway, I guess that moves us one jump back on the "Get Megan Out of this Country" agenda. Working a job is pointless without a home. Though, I've always been told I have a "hobo-like sensibility" when it comes to clothing. I guess it's finally my chance to further explore the bag-lady culture.

2005-12-18T21:37:00.000-08:00

I think that although I was introduced fairly throughly, I should make my first post. How exciting. I have now started this new fangled "blogging" only a mere decade after it first began. Between learning how to use the interweb last year and this I feel as if my plans for common law marriage* are the most boring things in my life.

*the plans will be elaborated on later, you know, when my unemployed ass finds the time

2005-12-18T16:35:00.000-08:00

OF NOTE:

I checked the referrals today, it seems one of our readers found this page by blogger-searching "genders are blending." Just to let you know, if three people say it out loud, it immediately becomes internet fact.

2005-12-17T12:14:00.000-08:00

I'm at the library, still haven't started that take-home test hours after I promised myself I would. But I would like to take this opportunity to needlessly* introduce Kate Ditter, an equally charming, equally unemployed ex-roommate who has morphed into my blog accessory, like a nice jeweled watch, Kate will only be increasing my attractiveness through her own form of blatant retardisms. She will have part ownership in this blog, as a part of our common law marriage pre-nup.

*Needless because, all three of the RO1 fans were playing foosball and making empty promises of ipod gifts when Kate and I agreed it would be best for the blog, if it lived in a home with both a mommy (me) and daddy. So expect this sham marriage for the sake of the blog to only lead to increasingly bitter posts wherein I start calling Kate a deadbeat whore.

HA., HA..
I just ran spell check and it seems blogger.com doesn't recognize the word "Blog," possible suggestions include Bloth, bloucky and bloch. Anyone know what those mean? anyone?

2005-12-15T10:43:00.000-08:00

IN WHICH I RAMBLE ABOUT NOTHING, AND THEN TV'S LOST.

So today, I'm feeling all nostalgic, it could be the weather, the lyric in someone's profile from a song I haven't heard in years, but once loved. It could be the message left by someone I haven’t seen in years, or the realization that this is my last day of classes ever (something I didn't notice on my own, but had to have someone point out to me.) I don’t know what it is. But my god- It's getting to me. Would someone please hug me, (though not too closely, my hair smells funny today)

Additionally,
It turns out that my life at the Deli has taken an interesting and insightful twist. We are a microcosm of "Lost" yes; Pat Hayden your hierarchy of hotness applies in every facet of my life.

I started unthinkingly referring to the non-deli Union South employees as the "others.” in a conversation with Laney. Immediately my mind elaborated.

The games room guy who drops by OFTEN and stares eerily, always pressuring us to come down to the games room (which he calls "the dungeon") to sing Karaoke. Well, obviously, he's the parallel quick byte universe version of Ethan Rom, Pregnant Woman Kidnapper. Oh Karaoke guy would do it to, he knows things, like languages, and ways to drag a woman in false labor and a washed up rockstar off into the jungle.

Then, there's angry maintenance man. What is he so mad about? Is it because he's balding under that hat he always wearing? Is it because Dinah's isn’t old enough to come see his band play? Why oh why is he so bitter, always stomping around the union, stuffing papers into the recycling bin and glaring... Could it be, he recently accidentally killed an innocent blond girl? Did he maybe get shot in the stomach, losing his own precious fetus? Then allowing the perp to get away so he could avenge himself with a few well placed close-range shots.. If so, He's Ana Lucia, the spunky misunderstood vixen with a dark past.

But Megan, you ask (you=Pat) what about the glorious Mr. Echo, soulful, simple, wild do-able jungle-man. Well, he works three times a week, collecting garbage, fixing things, his u-south equivalent is the ear-gauge janitor, the only non-creepy other we've got... I'd feel okay letting him have the machete and tracking us back to civilization, after all, according to the story he told me about his weekend*, he can walk out of a bar after being punched in the head, so I'm sure he'd know how to use heavy weaponry.

Oh, and Sipa, our stocker, well I can never understand what the hell she's saying, but she likes talking to me all the time anyway, so its pretty easy there, she's Jin, industrious and unintelligible.

So, as we await the six-week hiatus of season 2, I am coming to understand that I don’t need a TV, I am on that jungle island. Pat was right, it is a mind experiment, craftily hidden in the middle of Wisconsin, centered in the nerdy part of campus. I mean seriously, this has to be some kind of psychological mind-game, why else would they put so many hot young females (myself, Laney, Dinah, Celia) in the midst of such dorkdom (engineers abound). My second piece of evidence- we already have memorial union, the cool union, there's no need for union south; it's an experiment, a psychological experiment.

* I have a new theory about myself as socially awkward. I freak out normal people, but put another socially awkward person in the room and they are just glad someone’s talking, it doesn’t matter what its about. Hence, I learn interesting things about people I’ve only spoken to twice, things like, the janitor got jacked in the head at a bar for being a “fag.”

I also am constantly trying to improve my conversational skills. When talking I ret to relate to people by learning about their interests and issues, thereby creating an open space for fluid conversation. In practice though it goes more like Drunk Megan sidling up to a table and blurting out “Hey, so you’re in Lisa’s band right? All guys in bands have STDs. I know this. Ohh! Ohh! Lemme guess which one. Chlamydia right? Seriously, all bands are diseased. Is it herpes??”

2005-12-08T10:46:00.000-08:00

Erm..
It seems pat has linked this blog to the zombie blog, to which I have to say Pat Hayden. I'm shy, these people don't need to know what I eat for breakfast (which I WILL blog about)or detailed descriptions of my anxieties, or a long-winded depiction of my attempts to talk to men while intoxicated (one word: painful)

ON TOPIC
The job interview terrified me, the lady sat at the table rambling about filing T874's into the system, double entering codes, filing, and opening the seventh circle of hell. The other interviewer kept telling me how for the next four months he's here fom 8am to 10 pm 6 days a week. then telling me how much fun they all have, being at the tax office, filing taxes 14 hours a day every day, who needs a real family (actual statement). I left the interview grateful that they seemed disgusted in my vacant staring and questions about health insurance.

However, now, I'm concerned, so far they've been the only fish biting.

OFF TOPIC
The Morning News recently did gallery by a photographer focusing on the exclusion/inclusion of women in social situations. The theory behind the photography in fascinating, and in my opinion, something that needs to be explored, the actual pictures fell a little short, some caught the intention of the photographer, others seemed staged. Either way, its well worth the 12 clicks it would take to to look through.

2005-12-05T15:59:00.000-08:00

AND IN THE BEGINING

In the fall of 2003, I spent a semester traveling the world (and by world I mean London, England, and a few well-planned but poorly executed side trips)

In two weeks, I graduate, and I'm hoping to do it again, more uncommon places, darker alleys, dirtier bars, uglier men.
Either way, the plans are still in the rough, the when and where are completely unanswerable. I have no idea. It all depends on money, which, as you may know- I have little of. But we're working on it, along with travel plans, and job skills.

And so, the last time I went abroad, I started a blog, a blog I never showed anyone but myself. How pretenious. So I thought to myself "Hey Megan, ease off writing love notes you'll never send while listening ot explosions in the sky and exclaiming "the genders are blending'. " I'm going to do it right this time, proper documentation, actual URLs, possible readership (I'm banking about two of you will stick with me on this project.)

So here goes:
Step 1: Raise $3,000

I'll undertake this quest like I do everything else in life, in a panic-driven freak attack. Already I have one job interview on Thursday, and immediately I've become terrified that they'll offer me the job, and I'll be forced to accept without even applying elsewhere. It at a Tax office (snooze) with a really nice website (double snooze).

I'll keep you updated. Wish me luck on the great race to the 3k.