organized events aren't all bad

as a general rule, i tend to shy away from organized events.  don't get me wrong, i love organization of all kinds.  but large organized events usually make me so anxious that i'd rather do my homework (gasp!) than attend them.  fairs (although i've only been to one state fair in my life), carnivals, festivals, etc...they all make me nervous.

here are some of the things i worry about:  where do i park?  what if i can't actually get mitchy into the ridiculously small spaces they say a car can fit in?  what if the parking is parallel?  where do i get tickets if they're needed?  what if it rains?  where are the bathrooms?  will there be toilet paper?  will there be soap?   

trust me, the list goes on.

despite these things, i do attend the renaissance faire annually (if you haven't been to one, you should. it's quite the life changing event and i highly recommend the tortuga twins), but i think that doesn't get to me because i started going in 6th grade before i knew all of the things that could go wrong.  and usually i go with my dad so i know nothing bad can happen.

the library's "how to recycle a book" display

anyways, today i helped with earth action day as a representative for the library.  and it was so stinking fun. we crafted paper beaded necklaces (be jealous), bookmarks, and postcards.  all of these things were made from discarded magazines so we were being all earth friendly and stuff.  hooray for mother earth!

typically this kind of event would keep me up the night before, but this wasn't the case today.  maybe it was because i had planned everything out and packed the day before, or maybe it was because a friend was coming with me (shout out to katie!), or maybe it was because it was affiliated with the library and nothing really bad happens there.  whatever the reason, everything went just as it should.

there were people to help us unload the car and they hadn't mysteriously misplaced our vendor ticket and given away our table.  some of the lovely volunteers helped us easily pop up our tent and in no time we were situated (and there was even a parking lot with normal sized spaces for mitchy!).  we were checked on continuously throughout the set-up period just to make sure we were still without questions (which we always were) and everyone just seemed to be in good spirits despite the 50-something degree cloudy weather.  we were able to craft with lots of kids (and some adults too!), chat with lots of community members, and generally just have a blast.

if i didn't list worrying as one of my hobbies, i might decide to stop worrying about everything that could go wrong at organized events and start enjoying them.  maybe next time, but today definitely proved that organized events aren't all bad.

be on your best behavior when your professor sits beside you

when i arrived at my class this afternoon, i noticed someone's stuff was in my seat.  i know it's not the 3rd grade and i know we don't have assigned spots, but seriously. i always sit in the third row back (out of four), right side, center aisle. i looked around to see who was playing a funny joke on me, but no one looked suspect.  it was then that i heard someone say from the front of the room, "oh i took your seat today!"

it was my professor.  eek.

don't get me wrong.  this professor is really cool.  she's funny, engaging, etc....all the things that make a good professor.  however, during class presentations (which finished up today, thank goodness) i tend to doodle randomly, stare longingly out the window, make comments under my breath... you know, the typical stuff that rude people do.

i reluctantly took the next seat in (and yes, there is a difference) and began telling myself that i could behave for three hours.  pssh.  as soon as the words left my brain, i should have known it was a lost cause.

i was staring out the window only occasionally and i had even been able to keep my markers in their package so that i wouldn't start coloring up a storm.  i was starting to feel quite proud of my mature behavior when the group presenting made the comment that the lovely man they interviewed began his current job in the 1960s.  that's right folks.  while my parents were running around in diapers, this man was already a successful some-type-of-librarian-that-i-can't-remember.  a quick calculation in my head told me that even if he was a super young library school graduate at age 24, he'd still be in his 70s, probably later 70s depending on the exact time frame. in my head i couldn't help but wonder "seriously...how old is he?!"

except that's the funny thing about being on your best behavior for so long.  sometimes when you think you say things in your head, you actually say them out loud.  and not out loud in the whispering way.  out loud like the freaking declaration of independence.  it's like i was announcing the british were coming.

for a second i just sat there with my hand covering my mouth as everyone looked at me.  when i finally said "oh. did i say that out loud?' and then finished with "but seriously is that rude?" everyone began to laugh. and not the cute kind of laugh that you do when a baby makes those spit bubbles (something i don't think is cute at all).  it was one of those roaring guffaws that people do when they're watching mrs. doubtfire and robin williams declares, "no, i don't need a hand. i need a face," as he smashes his unmasked face into the cake.

eventually everyone turned back around and life continued on for the presenters, my classmates, and probably my professor.  however, all i could think about was that when your professor sits beside you, you really should be on your best behavior. and maybe also tape your mouth shut.  

printers are tricky little beasts

in preparation for one of my upcoming library programs, i decided to take advantage of the student fees that were paid in order to allow me to print some random number of times throughout the semester.  i found my four flower templates and sent them to the printer 20 times.  that's right.  in the end i'll be making 80 flower paper plate hats.  how's that for crafty (also - it's a brilliant time waster).

flower hats -- hooray!  only 77 more to go.

once i actually went to retrieve my printing (luckily it's just upstairs - the apartment gods smiled upon me when they assigned me to my building), i quickly hit print without even looking to see that 80 pages were set to print. i didn't really have time to think about that - i was more concerned with getting my flower templates quickly before any neighbors came out and saw my hair knotted on the top of my head ballerina-style and my sweet orange and pink plaid pajama pants.  that's right folks, i wear my classy clothes for productive days.

when the printer ceased making the horrible noise that signifies your pages are being churned out, i grabbed my stack and headed down to my room.  upon returning to the comfort of my apartment (where i knew i wouldn't be judged for looking like a hot mess), i became aware of the disaster that was my print job.  all 80 pages were printed double-sided (so really i only had 40 pages).  while i'm all about double-sided printing for class readings, essays, etc., there's just really no way you can use flower patterns that are printed on both sides.  in essence, all 80 of my pages were wasted.  awesome.

while i was starting back at the beginning, i was still determined to use the printing that was already paid for.  i sent 20 more copies of my templates to the printer again although this time i did do the extra step to check and make sure nothing was marked for printing on both sides.  seriously, who decided that double-sided printing should be the default?  i hate that person.

feeling confident in my printing success, i again rushed upstairs to swipe my pages before i was seen.  unfortunately for me, a mom and her daughter had decided to hang out in the lobby (probably to point and laugh at my attire) and so i did what any polite neighbor would do - i gave them an obligatory nod and then preceded to become very interested in the carpet pattern.  not my best moment, but whatever - i'll just avoid them for the rest of the time i live here, no big deal.

i grabbed my 80 individually printed pages and dashed back to my apartment.  it was only then that i realized that 80 individually printed pages times two templates on each page actually makes 160.  that's right, 160 flower templates.  there are not enough hours in the rest of the semester for me to make 160 flower hats (not that i wouldn't give up the rest of my homework in favor of making these hats...because if that could be arranged, i would).

if anyone is in the market for 80 flower templates, let me know - i've got the hook up for you.  while the 80 extra flowers might have been my fault, i still blame the printer for messing me up.  seriously.  watch out for those things.  they're tricky little beasts.

green peppers are the gifts that keep giving

it's no secret that i'm not much of a cook.  my idea of a fancy dinner includes lightly toasting my bread before i slap the peanut butter and jelly on it.  i know, i know.  it's a classy establishment over here.

despite my lack of cooking skillz (yes, with a z), i find myself pretending every now and then that i know how to do things.  when the mood strikes me as i'm waltzing through the grocery store (which is the MOST overwhelming experience for someone of my cooking level), i buy all kinds of crap.  that's right.  crap.  half the stuff i don't even know what it is, the other half i at least recognize the name despite not knowing its purpose.

on my latest adventure into the land of edible fear, i decided i'd buy a few green peppers and see what magic i could make happen.  unlike some of my other purchases, i at least knew what this one was.  when i got home, i washed and sliced the pepper (which is no easy task for someone that doesn't touch food - another thing that can wait for another post) and put it into a container to save for later.

so, umm, i forgot about it.  it happens to the best of us, and the forgetful bug surely got me about those pesky little peppers.  they were sitting all still and quiet on the bottom shelf and they just slipped my memory.  when i finally did see them again, i decided it was probably for the best if i just threw it out.  chances were high that even if i thought they weren't bad/rotten/whatever happens to vegetables, i wouldn't eat whatever i put them in anyways.  so i tossed them out (wasteful, i know) and went about my day.  by that evening, i was smelling something strange in my kitchen and for a second thought maybe i had a dead mouse or something equally as lovely.  upon opening the garbage can to toss something out, i found the culprit - those pesky little peppers were reeking up a storm.

i quickly took out the bag and tied it tightly hoping to capture that lovely scent inside the bag so it wouldn't be able to invade my nose anymore.  upon waking up the next morning (yes, i could have gone that night, but safety should always trump reeking green peppers), i took the bag to the dumpster, trying my hardest not to breathe as i walked the short distance.  seriously, the stench was that bad.

i didn't really think much more about it after that as i went about my day running errands, physically attending class even if my mind was absent, and going to work.  i assumed that once i got rid of the vegetable's version of a stink bomb, i'd be able to inhale deeply without feeling like vomiting.  wrong. wrong. wrong.

apparently, green peppers don't just stink for a hot second.  apparently they don't just stink while they're physically in your home rotting.  apparently their horrid smell seeps into your walls, carpet, hair, etc. because seriously, the smell won't go away.

and no, there's not actually a dead mouse somewhere, and no, the smell is not coming from my sink or garbage disposal.  it's those darned green peppers.  and although i do appreciate the fact that they're trying to stay with me even though i discarded them (what a thoughtful vegetable), we'll see if i ever buy them again (unless of course it's for someone i don't really like...).

it's all fun and games until someone gets their face scratched

so my sister has this really precious little (and by little i mean kind of big) dog.  although not much of an animal enthusiast myself due to my fear of things with more legs than me, this bundle of joy has grown on me over the past few weeks.  i've been doing a lot of dogsitting when i've been in town and although i'm not very good at it, i've survived.  i'm still trying to teach her to do something helpful like carry my luggage into my bedroom or bring me a diet coke, but i'm willing to wait.  don't all those glass-half-full kind of people always say good things come to those who wait?  we'll see about that.

she's just pretending she doesn't love the glamour shots.

ali (the dog) isn't supposed to get on furniture because let's be honest, she's the size of a small elementary school student.  and her blonde hair gets EVERYWHERE, but i'll save that for a post about what not to wear when you're dogsitting (ex: black tights).  anyways, i would sometimes let ali get on the air mattress with me because she was having ear problems as some labs do and it made her feel better to sleep by me or something like that.  apparently i'm a comforting presence.  let's be honest, she probably just wanted to manipulate me and get on the air mattress.  sneaky little thing.

regardless of her intentions, i still thought it was funny and let it happen.  one night ali forgot she was the dog and i was the human and she actually nudged me off the pillow and laid her own head in my spot.  it was so hysterical to me i just decided it would be a head-on-mattress type of night.  looking back on the situation, i imagine it's like the first time a child draws on the walls or stuffs a box of tampons down the toilet (shout out to my sister at age two!) -- it's funny at first (or is it?) but then it's like come on did that really happen?!

that's how i felt yesterday when ali came to "check on me" during my nap (and by check on me, i obviously mean take advantage of my lenient no-furniture rules).  she climbed up onto the mattress and little by little began to make her way up towards the pillow.  the few moments of thinking ali was funny came quickly and went even more quickly as i really just wanted to keep sleeping.  i don't know if she was pissed that i didn't cave into her wishes this time or if really she was just getting me back for all the times i made her play glamour shots as i took countless dog modeling pictures, but either way she decided to take a swipe at the side of my face.

and swipe she did.  she left a nice little scratch from the middle of my right ear down the side of my cheek and as i squealed in pain (yes, i have a flair for the dramatic, and no, it didn't hurt that badly) i was instantly brought back to a 10th grade slumber party where a cat clawed my upper lip in the night as it ran across the living room (now you know why i fear creatures with more legs than me -- they have so many options for attacking my face).

my mom insisted that it didn't break the skin (she was wrong) and she was confident that it wouldn't leave a mark (strike two, mom).  i attempted to cover it up today with makeup, but i'm pretty sure i just ended up with an orange, oompa-loompa inspired face that can only result from a) too much tanning, b) too much foundation, or c) actually playing the part of an oompa loompa in charlie and the chocolate factory.

so what did i learn?  dog scratches don't go away over night regardless of what mom says.  and also, it's all fun and games until someone gets their face scratched.

i really should work on my sea legs

i've never pretended to have sea legs or anything close to them.  i'm surprisingly unsteady on flat, still ground and i'd never think to boast of being able to hold my own on the ocean.  i think after having watched (and fallen in love with) leo in titanic circa 5th grade i just had this thing about boats...they're cool from afar, but i'm not going to bust a move to get on one. because of my anti-boat mentality, i've never developed the knack for walking on the unsteady.  and yes, for the record, i am in fact a slightly clumsy child and tend to run into things and fall over at least once a day.  but don't worry, bruises are a good look for me.

anyways, i think people that have honed their sea leg skills had the upper hand this weekend at the beach wedding i was in.  before i get into the sea leg lesson, i'm going to share the most important deets from the joyous event.  first off, i was honored to be a part of this beautiful weekend.  the bride worked so hard making sure everything would be just perfect and in the end, it truly was stunning.  we did nails (well okay, i did mine in the car as i was driving to the beach the day before, which is perfectly safe if you're as good as i am), we did hair (i opted for a low side pony in hopes to kick the wind in the butt and yes, by the end of the day it was megan - 1, wind - 0), we made bouquets (everyone should try this - SO fun!), we had a bridesmaid breakfast, and we did countless other wonderful wedding things (including having the reception at the aquarium!).

in fact, the weekend was so wonderful i'd say we do it again.  maybe for their 3 month anniversary?  i'll go ahead and start planting that seed of an idea.  i think it'd be a hit.  and i can promise that the second time will result in much more graceful aisle-walking by yours truly.  i mean, don't get me wrong.  walking down the aisle is slightly awkward whether you're in a church, in a park, or at disney world (where my wedding will be one day) due to the whole everyone-is-looking-at-you-and-should-you-look-back-at-them-or-look-straight-ahead-or-at-your-groomsman AND how-do-you-smile-and-not-look-fake AND what-do-you-do-if-your-groomsman-makes-you-laugh?  aisles really are just a recipe for uncomfortableness.

naturally all of these thoughts were cruising through my head as my groomsman and i began our walk down the beach, but i also had the added concern of my lack of coordination when it comes to walking on sand.  i don't know how those baywatch girls made it look so easy.  every time i would take a step my foot would become completely covered with sand and i just knew thousands of little sand spurs were waiting to take me down.  i'm pretty sure it was less of a graceful walk and more of a clumsy sway.  lucky for me, the bride had paired me with someone i deemed to be a professional sand walker.  unfortunately for him, my lack of coordination likely resulted in bruises on his arms due to me holding on for dear life.  (side note: the bruises might also be there because when we were practicing, my hands were cold so i continued to hold on longer than was appropriate because it was warmer that way.  i realize now that strangers get nervous when you don't let go of their arms.)

despite my obsessive worrying over the sand walking, i think we did fine.  the groomsman didn't let me fall, he only made me laugh a few times (which i'm sure resulted in some really attractive open-mouth shots that i can only hope the photographer captured), and i didn't have to push him in the sand and walk alone because he was walking too fast (something that i had threatened).  i don't know if the groom and his g-men practiced their walks or if they all grew up on boats, and i don't really even know if the rest of them had as good of sea legs as mine, but in the end i decided i really should work on my own sea legs.  i mean, what if next time i need to be the solid walker?  a girl can't always count on having a sailor around to drag her down the aisle. 

after the bride and groom return from their beautiful honeymoon, i really do need to remember to thank them for giving me an experienced sand walker.  let's be honest, their conversation probably went like this: "oh megan has to go here because you know, she's kind of unsteady in daily walking situations...can you imagine her on the sand?  yikes!"

i also need to remember to let go of people's arms before they start to think i'm creepy.

slumber parties during the week are good for you

i was never allowed to have a slumber party during the school week as a child.  if it was a holiday or summer vacation, the occasional non-weekend slumber party might have occurred, but if school was in session this was strictly forbidden.  i may have had a friend spend the night during the week when her parents went out of town (i think i remember this happening once), but that was an exception to the rule.  i guess my parents were under the impression that my friends and i would stay up too late giggling and gossiping about boys...essentially they were afraid we'd behave like college freshman.

[side note: just for the record, i fully support the term "first-year" when describing someone in his or her first year of college, but i was called a freshman so that's what i'm going with here. glad we cleared up.]

one thing i miss the most about b, my roommate in college, is how she would always stay up late with me doing exactly what my parents were afraid i'd do in elementary school if i were to have a slumber party during the week.  we'd laugh (okay, she was usually laughing AT me, but whatever), we'd gossip (again, typically me, but she'd always listen), and we'd rock out to the likes of aly and aj's 'potential break up song' (if you weren't obsessed with this song, you should have been).  one night b and i stayed up wayyy too late learning the steps to 'crank that (soulja boy)' and another night b got out of bed to walk me to the parking deck when i just knew i had left mitchy's headlights on (my car's name is mitchy. i feel like headlights makes that pretty clear, but just for the sake of transparency, there you go.).  they weren't on, but b didn't grumble. again, she just laughed at me.  everything was always fun with b.

although b has entered the world of adulthood with one of those real job things (gross) and i continue to avoid that fate by any means possible (yes, even grad school), i was able to have a mid-week slumber party again just last night.  another friend of mine was driving through on her way to set up for her wedding this upcoming weekend (eeeek!) and she stopped by.  while i may have only gotten three hours of sleep because i may have done exactly what my parents feared so many years ago (giggling and gossiping are just too tempting!), i can honestly say that slumber parties during the week are not all that bad.  while i might have yawned a little bigger and little more frequently during class, it was definitely worth it.