Some Facts

Fact: I am totally snowed in. Like I can't leave the house. At all.
Fact: My only resources are the internet, and season two of The Office.
Fact: My grandparentals are the only people left on Earth who still have DIAL-UP, which equals negative-percent effective. I did the math.
Fact: This leaves me with 20+ episodes of The Office.

Question: Where will this lead?
Answer: Only time will tell...

P.S. Don't hold your breath waiting for an update. It took me FORTY-FIVE minutes to get this to post.

she pulled the covers over her head...

...and buried herself beneath a mountain of various and sundry items:

1 quilt
2 down comforters
3 blankets (wooly mammoth, Mexican, and fleece)
4 loads of laundry
5 bags of Japanese food
6 sweaters
7 sudoku books
8 tubes of chapstick
9 dollars in change
10 library books
11 unfinished to-do lists
12 homemade coupons
13 half-sticks of gum
14 straws from Wendys
15 Halls Blackcurrant Soothers
16 Star Wars action figures
17 Magazine (2004 Prom Edition)
18 hours worth of Jane Austen books-on-tape
1999 yearbook
2007 calendar
21 years worth of life experience

yet even that could not smother

the cry

wrenched from the very center of her being:

WHY MUST I BE SO VERY, VERY

AWKWARD?!?!?!?!?

You heard it here first. Or not.

So I was at the gym last night, watching a lot of TVs (plural) because:

a) I'm totally ADD and there are a LOT of TVs to look at.
b) The flashy colors distract me from the pain.
c) Closed captioning makes it possible to watch all nine shows at once.

So as my eyes bounced from screen to screen like twin pinballs, they were snagged by the action on one station that featured a man cowering in fear under the bathroom sink while a woman tried to pull him out. Now who wouldn't want to watch that?

The closed captioning went as follows:

-"You have to come out!"
-"No, the blue man will get me!"
-"Come on, Tracy. Get out from under there!"
-(Tracy makes sounds like Chewbacca.)

Chewbaccaish sounds. Right. Like that's helpful to a DEAF audience.

But who knows, maybe the old man on the treadmill next to me went deaf on May TWENTY-SIXTH 1977 and knew exactly what was going on...

So I know I look like your cousin, but...

You know when you see someone that looks so familiar that you swear you know them from somewhere? Well, I'm that person to a lot of people. A lot, a lot, a lot. It's kind of weird. (In fact, I have a bit of a complex from people staring at me in confusion.)

Usually, however, after an initial contact, they realize that they really don't know me, and depart with a semi-awkward, "Oh, you really look like my relative/friend/acquaintance/ex/(other)." (It's especially awkward if you've already hugged me/smacked my butt/ran to catch up with me.) And I continue on my merry, if somewhat disturbed, way.

But what REALLY gets me are the times when I tell them that they are mistaken and they DON'T BELIEVE ME. I mean, seriously, like I would LIE about who I am. (And since I am NOT your relative/friend/acquaintance/ex/(other), you REALLY should not be touching me, At all.)

Luckily, such an event has only happened to me face-to-face a couple times. (One of them was semi-humorous and involved a C-List celebrity.)

But, I was a third party to it ALL THE TIME:
There is a teacher in my high school that I never had. Never. (She taught physics for crying out loud.) I never went into her classroom, never talked to her, never came within 40 feet of her my entire high school experience. Yet, for THREE YEARS, my sister would come home about every other week and tell me that this teacher said "Hi" to me and wanted to know how I was doing. And even when my sister TOLD her that I never had a class from her, she STILL continued to question my welfare on a BI-MONTHLY BASIS! (It only stopped when my sister graduated.)

And then, just yesterday, It has progressed to EMAIL:
(I had mass-emailed all the professors teaching ENGL 495 for the next year to get an idea of their topics so I could pick one to take, and this was one reply.)

Hi Meagan,

What a treat to have you back in class! I don't remember what I agreed to do with that Summer 495. I am at home on leave and away from my files. Go ask Trish what it is going to be and DO tell me. Bring your friends with you. Is everything going well for you? Talk to me!

Very Best,

XXXXXX

Yeah. Wouldn't know her from Eve.

(psycho.)

some things i learned today:

1. Eyelashes are the new smile.

2. There are people in the world with even less willpower than me.

3. I am eerily good at winning the Mexican lottery.

Bowling for Turkeys

It started out as an innocent enough thought: What about the cranberry sauce?

And grew into a full-fledged fear: WHAT ABOUT THE CRANBERRY SAUCE?!?

Which led to an innocent enough suggestion: How about I make the cranberry sauce?

And soon devolved into full-fledged terror: HOW ABOUT I MAKE THANKSGIVING DINNER?!?

And produced an innocent enough fact: I don't know how to cook.

That was shouted from the rooftops: I DON'T KNOW HOW TO COOK!!!

That was ignored. IGNORED!


Oh well. At least the cranberry sauce turned out*:



*This is how it really looked**
**Minus the green stuff***
***Not an exaggeration


And don't worry, my newfound cooking skills are totally effecting my coordination skills in a positive way. Not only did I (almost) strike out with the gravy and stuffing (curse you store-bought stuff), but I totally caught a touchdown in the Turkey Bowl*:

*This is how it really looked**
**Minus the bandana and short shorts***
***And with mean, cleat-wearing boys****
****Not a (blatant) exaggeration

"Whatever women do they must do twice as well as men to be thought half as good. Luckily, this is not difficult." - Charlotte Whitton

Woman. A force to be reckoned with. Strong. Opinionated. Clever.
Man. A force to be reckoned with. Strong. Opinionated. Clever.

50 Women. 1 Man. Lucky Man? Think Again.

So the end of the year is approaching, and for this reason, the bishopric of my ward has been handing out envelopes to all our ward members with our church membership information and our current balance of tithing and fast offering donations in preparation for tithing settlement.

Our illustrious executive secretary had the responsibility of coming into Relief Society to hand out envelopes to the sisters. Usually this man is the epitome of cool. Smart. Razor-sharp wit. King of comebacks. You know the type.

So he finished handing out all of the envelopes he had, then told us that if we had any problems with our records (i.e. we think we paid more tithing or our name is spelled wrong) then to come talk to him.

And then he was dethroned.

The following is a transcript of the blessed event:

Executive Secretary (who shall remain nameless): "So before I leave, does anybody have a problem with their record?"

Katrina Norris (who shall not remain nameless): "Um, yeah. On mine, next to 'Current Spouse' is says 'NONE'."

Executive Secretary (who shall remain nameless): "Oh yeah? Let me take a look at that."

Katrina Norris (who shall not remain nameless): smiles in mock innocence.

Rest of Relief Society (including Bishop): Starts laughing uncontrollably.

Executive Secretary (who shall remain nameless): understanding dawns. face reddens. stiffly returns paper. exits.

Woman. A force to be reckoned with. Strong. Opinionated. Clever. Winner.
Man. A force to be reckoned with. Strong. Opinionated. Clever. Loser.

a consumer complaint

Some people have no personality.
But that's okay, because sometimes someone with no personality is just what you need.
But want you don't need or want is some personality-less drone trying to be hip.

Some people have pearls.
But that's okay, because sometimes pearls are just what you need.
But what you don't need or want are some classic, understated beads tied around your hips.


Yes, Tom Shane, I was talking about you. Both times.

sacrilege

i don't think they should use conference talks on grammar tests. it creates a conflict of interest when I fail...

If someone were to ask me...

to encapsulate my personality in one sentence, I would tell them that I have the barcode on my library card memorized.

August 2006

Let's just consider this my "wake me up when september is half-way through" period.

i have this desire...

...and i need a distraction...

Okay, so we all know that advertising on websites is basically the worst invention ever. Who really needs a flashy new car, or matchmaking services, or a feasible weight-loss plan?

Okay, so most everyone.

But that is not the point.

The POINT is that the stupid banners crowd my space and distract my attention from more important things. Like did Katie Homes really even have a baby? I mean, there's couch-jumping and icky PDA and then nothing. It's like a BLACK HOLE AROUND THERE!!!!

Also not the point.

However, sometimes, in a very few instances, like Π instances (or pie instances) links can be useful.

Take my in-the-works website for example. The links there light up when you roll over them, allowing for hours of entertainment by scrolling

back........................................................................


........................and forth.................................................

.......and back..................................................

..................................................and forth.................................


.......................and back.........................................

....................................and so forth..........................

.....................................................................and i'm back.

V E R Y U S E F U L



Well today on my new google group page was the usefullest of all links:

"How to Create an Illusion"

woah.


Okay, so who doesn't need that information?


Okay, so most everyone.

....................................But that is not the point.


i needed that information!!!!


and now i have it.

Steps:

1. Prepare a number of everyday objects which have different variations or types.

2. Induce a sense of ease and familiarity in the audience. These are things they see every day, they are familiar with them and do not need to look closely.

3. Ask each person to chose one object specifically. They must concentrate on it to the exclusion of all else. Remember the details thoroughly. Possibly try and make a picture of it in their minds.
4. Take away the objects and arrange a distraction.***

5. Redisplay the objects but make sure each one is slightly different from everyone previously shown.

No one in the audience will be able to see the item they chose. Very few people will understand that this is because ALL the items changed.




sweet. double sweet even.











***only, what the heck!?!?!? "arrange a distraction"

got any steps for that?

a catalogue for mail-order stampeding animals perhaps?

power-outage in a bottle?

essence of some obscure amazonian root that causes temporary blindness?


I mean, this is kind of a necessary step, i can't just skip it or something...

.... hmm...the private number of the manager for the championship double dutch team...?




So..... any suggestions?



Click on the useful link here↓

And to think that I saw it on 800 North (in Provo)

Listen my children and you will hear,
Of what to my wondering eyes should have appeared,
Four score and seven years ago.

The time has passed for fast-paced horses,
So hanging Christmas-colored traffic lights should be obvious of courses.
It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

On my midnight rides in Orem town,
It's not chimneys I've seen explosions and fistfights going down.
It's lucky I did not not perish from the earth.

But Provo, wrapped in silence so deep and still,
Not a car was stirring, until,
It was discovered that not all roads are created equal.

SO...

On the 800 North traffic tower as a signal light,
It flashed away! flashed away! a turn other than right!
A fitting tribute to people who have thus far so nobly advanced.

it's times like these...

when you're flat on your back...



with your second box of kleenex...



sneezing an average of six times in a row...



because you're allergic to everything in Utah...



that you're really afraid that this is gonna happen sooner rather than later...

ouch.

Reason #437 why I LOVE the LC:

The STIMULATING conversation.

Meagan: Oh my gosh, I only have 37 credits left to take! I could be done in April!
Scott: Yeah, well I have about a million left. Right now I'm on the four-and-a-half-year plan.
Meagan: Hey, that's way good. I know people that are on the eight-leaning-towards-nine-year plan.
Scott: Yeah. They're called "Doctors."

meditation, or, the man catcher, part 3

see, my problem is not a lack of something to say, but rather a lack of knowing how to say everything that i do have to say. i really do have a million and a half half-finished blogs that i could work on--or i could even pull a jonharmon and sell them off as-is, but most of them are not as funny as they appeared at the time (barring the rocket story that is not for mixed company), or are just a little bit too personal for cyberspace. plus the thought of living in the past with an endless stream of study abroad experiences crowding out the spectacular summer i'm demanding is not that appealing. it came, it's leaving, i grew, and i loved it. so while i will probably cook up one big, messy, sentimental, mush in my FIVE HOUR layover in houston, i plan to purge my system after that, with the exception of a few situational-appropriate reminisces as required.

that being said, i do have one thing to say. suprisingly, i found a man-catcher:

even more surprising, it worked:

but perhaps the most surprising thing is that i let him go.
yep. and i feel great!

except for finals, so if i get buried as the semester winds down, good luck to y'all and i'll see you on the flipside!

p.s. if you knew that i wrote this entire blog in lower case not in a tribute to e.e. cummings, but to accentuate my frustration in being able to establish texas citizenship on my way home, extra chocolate for you!

paris

yep, it was that good.

attention!

I was writing a blog, I promise! And it's really good! But I'm leaving for France in 15 minutes for a week, so I promise to finish when I get back!

Love,

Meagan

picture this...

So, as you've seen, London has some pretty wicked adverts. Greenwich does too. Enjoy!

This is an illustration of the Cutty Sark, a ship drydocked in Greenwich. Cool huh? Wait, you can't read the small print? Allow me to give you a closer look... Your dad is the new your mom.
Titanic is all washed up.
ha ha ha. I only love.

teen girl squad in action

"Taking the vowels out of words doesn't always make them cool."

-what's-her-face

goulash

So this title... hodgepodge was taken, it was then next option.

London is crazy. So are British people. So it everything. I guess that's one step below crazy-awesome so it's all good.

A complaint: There are no outlets in the bathrooms. Any bathrooms. Apparently the thought of 240 watts of power shooting through one's body is unattractive? Who knew?

A solution: Anywho... The appliance makers of awesomeness have solved that problem---lengthen the cords of course! So now all things hair come with uberlong cords that stretch from the landing to the bathroom! Presto-chango, perfection! Self-esteem has gone up, bone-breaking incidents from falling down stairs have too. Not to mention IN the bathroom where if the shock doesn't kill you, the fall and head-cracking will!

An excitement: Handel's Messiah. Live. Good Friday. Royal Albert Hall. Me. YES!!!!

A disappointment: Westlife. Tour. Ireland Only. Drat.

A possibility: Ryanair.com £0.99 tickets for a weekend flight????

An oasis: A stall on Portabello Road that sells ribbons and only ribbons. Hello all of Saturday, where did you go??

A challenge: Young Women's Counselor and possible Sunday School teacher? En espanol? "Que en el mundo????" (:

A request: Emails! I love them! I need them! meaganbrady@hotmail.com (hint, hint)

Tah, tah, for now!

A Study in Scarlet

"I had neither kith nor kin in England, and was therefore as free as air -- or as free as an income of eleven shillings and sixpence a day will permit a [wo]man to be. Under such circumstances, I naturally gravitated to London."
-Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Double-Take

So I have the misfortune of being on dish crew this week and have not been able to get out and do a ton of stuff yet, but I have been able to hang out with the AWESOMEST people who happen to be stuck in the kitchen with me.

Funny things happen around us. And to illustrate this, I will try to explain something that happened at dinner today. First of all, imagine this girl. Quiet, reserved, nice as can be but not exactly forward. This girl is not on our crew. But, she did sit next to us at dinner.

This meant nothing all through salad, curry, bread, pudding, and after-dinner conversation and nearly all the way through putting-off-after-dinner-dishes-conversation. But we happened to be talking about boys and their egos when Doug (Alpha-male of the apron) mentioned that he was voted "Best Butt" in 8th grade (unofficially of course).

Now this in itself was funny enough, but at that exact moment, this girl just so happened to look down behind Doug DIRECTLY AT HIS BUTT!!!! We laughed, we cried, we scrapbooked the moment.
(it later turned out that one of the professor's sons was crawling under Doug's chair at that exact moment and she was looking at him NOT the butt, but it was still priceless.)

And these are the stories of our lives...so far.

Does the term a "Little" Spanish mean ANYTHING to you?!?!

So we got our ward assignments tonight.

The good news: I'm in the South Kensington Branch. It's a brisk 25 minute walk across Hyde Park or 10 minutes by tube. Closest church, cutest part of London.

The bad: It's a Spanugueuse ward. Yep. One song is Spanish, one song is Portuguese. One talk is Spanish, one talk is Portuguese.

Help! I have NOTHING Spanish or Portuguese!

I will never be honest on a church survey again!

(My only comfort is I didn't mention piano at all...)

Made It!

Hello all! I made it to London!

Capital of the different folks. On the plane over here, I sat next to two middle-aged Londoners on the way back from "Holiday" in Florida. My friend Anne sat next to a Cambridge student named Ian.

She was sonneted and offered private tennis lessons.

I got the inside track on London's gay club scene.

Cheers!