if tim doesn't get out of the shower soon...

i will be forced to go to drastic measures in order to cleanse myself.

i'm thinking Clorox bleach wipes.

eeeeewwww..... nevermind.

i wonder if i have a song on my computer called "Hurry The Fuck Up! Yeah!" that i could blast through the door..... :D

i'm magic! the water just turned off! huzzah!

holy fuck!

i just got a package in the mail! woohoo!!! now, to open it...

for some reason, Tim hid the knives once he heard that i've been having panic attacks. not sure how that adds up.... "Hi! My name is Meghan! I like cheese, frogs, creepy psychological thriller movies, and cutting like an emo kid in high school while listening to sad ballads by Green Day." what?!

anywho... where's a pen... wait! i have keys! yes!!!

aaaah!!! i can't get the fucking UPS label to cut! noo!! ok, thumb tacks it is...

success!

and the card on top says...

"Happy Birthday Blog Buddy! Cheers, Madge"

YAY!!! oh my goodness.... packing peanuts don't move fast enough

haha!! this is awesome! they're "classic computer icon note cards"!! and the one on top is of a bowling-ball style bomb with a lit fuse. i gotta look at them all... we've got the bomb, the trash can, the speaker volume up, a little face saying an exclamation point, a magnifying glass, the smiley desktop computer, a watch, the paint can, the new document page with the dog-ear'd corner, and a little face saying a question mark. nice!

this makes me laugh. ah, thank you Madge!! you'll be getting a thank-you note on the bomb card. woohoo!

ok, nap time before work. cheers!

oh well.

Jimmy is out of the picture. it happens.

no worries, it's not like i was ordering new stationery or anything :p

i'm going back to sleep... or is it "going to sleep"?? i don't know if i've slept yet. how sad is that? ah, i laugh at myself.

mental note: check mailbox... huzzah!

Currently:
going back to sleep... but
Listening to: "Yesterday" by The Beatles

i'm back!

it's true. i'm in Ashland again, and who knows what's next? not me!

hmm.... i know. cookies! my mom made some for me before i left. hurrah for chocolate chip goodness.

my computer is being weird. oh well. fuck it. (can't write a post without saying "fuck" at least once, now, can i?)

that is all.

i'm hoooome

at my parents' home. and it's amazing- as soon as i walk through the door into my old room, i turn 16 all over again. how is this possible? i almost want to call my old friends from CHS (yes, i had friends.... sheesh :p) and see what the boys are up to.

anywho, yeah, i got here last night, and am taking off tomorrow. nothing like a short visit to remind you who your family is without reminding you (toooo much) of why you left (no worries Ace, you weren't any of the main factors in that decision). hmm.... there was something i wanted to change while typing that last sentence, but i don't remember what it is now that i got to the period.

oh well.

i'm sleepy. i just woke up from a nap, and i'm still feeling whipped. i nearly said something incredibly horrible just then, but i'm glad i stopped myself. Michael Jackson's attorneys could've been all over me. ack! the temptingness to say terrible things is too great. i take my leave.

Currently:
bah... it's all the same.

i have no sheets on my bed

i just got home, and discovered that my bed was nekkid. then i remembered: i was doing laundry when i left! ah, miss domestic goddess i am not.

could be worse. i could be missing a leg.

that would definitely be worse.

or have a kid.

oooh! bathroom's open! huzzah.

hormonal thought of the hour before i go (literally- hehe): i think guys should have to pay for feminine hygiene products. i mean seriously- if i'm going through the horrific (and socially unmentionable) experience of menstruating, the least they can do is pay for my fucking monthly products. sheesh.

ok, i'm done. time to pee. cheers!

Currently:
Reading: Ireland by Frank Delaney
Listening to: "Spineless" by Alanis Morissette

crazy ass dream last night...

in my dream, there was this secret organisation that stole females and sacrificed them for some reason or another. their headquarters was this little house that pulled a Harry Potter when you walked in (it became a fuckin huge factory inside). for one reason or another, it was on campus, and i kept trying to prove to everyone else on CPS (Campus Public Safety) that this place existed, but nobody believed me.

i'd go in there and steal my friends out, or at least try to... i can't remember why i was allowed in there in uniform, but when i was in street clothes they tried to keep me.

anywho, the girls that they had working in their factory (i remember the number 30,000 as one of the victims' estimation for how many girls there were) were housed in these floating dorms that in the morning shrank up to the size of a cracker... but at night the head of the factory would pull out the "crackers" and toss them on the water, and they'd almost sink, then flip over and bob up to the surface full-sized and ready for occupants.

every night, the factory owners would sacrifice 5 girls to something... it looked like the moon, but i never figured out exactly what it was... and they had a special cracker dorm reserved for the sacrifices to go into, from which they would be taken and... done whatever with. but it wasn't good. people went into that place and weren't ever seen again.

this place was horrible. the girls were incredibly unhappy there, telling me about how much they wanted to go back to their husbands and families... my friend Diedra was there, and i visited her once (in uniform, of course). she looked so hungry... the bread in this factory was always moldy, but the loaves were huge. and when i say huge, i'm talking a foot across, and four feet long. and always going bad.

i was woken up from this (incredibly detailed) dream by my cell phone beeping... but i wasn't awake enough to not still be dreaming. the dream just changed...

i was watching a tv, and there was a decomposing clown talking to me on it. he was green with white speckles all over him, and his eyes were bugging out. he kind of looked like Beetlejuice from the old version with Wynona Rider... then he morphed into an ex-boyfriend from high school, and came out of the tv. he made me eat crushed glass, and laughed as i threw up blood... then he got back into the tv (i died facing it), and began giving a horribly biased obituary, telling my life as my subconscious thinks he saw it.

---

and people wonder why i hate sleeping.

Currently:
Reading: Ireland by Frank Delaney (i finally started it! hooray!)
Listening to: "The Boxer" by Simon & Garfunkel

and life goes on (well, for some of us)

Clyde is gone. he left in the early hours of this morning, while i was at Kelli's house watching "Frida" (good movie, btw). when i got off work at 0100, i'd noticed he wasn't looking right, so i took him (tank and all) over to Kelli's with me, and some time during the film he chose to check out.

it was good while it lasted.

i buried him out back, near where we used to go sunning. if the sprinkler system worked for this house, i could call his current resting place a flower bed, but it's not. it's more of a mess of vines and detritus.

i really hope the neighbour's dog doesn't dig him up.