I'm heading off to visit my best friend, Liz, and her sister, Abby, in Madison, WI, for the weekend. WOOT!

There will be cheese curds.

But before I leave, here is installment #3 of the Puppet Rapist.

Ok, so the past few mornings (minus my trip to Detroit), my TiVo has had "Denise Austin's Daily Workout" as the default channel when I wake up.

I think my TiVo is calling me fat.

On Saturday, my parents drove down to visit me for the day, which was so nice of them to do. We shopped on Michigan Ave., which is lined with these windmills up and down the street. Soon these planters will be filled with gorgeous tulips. I took this photo for Marjon and Yvon -- a little piece of Holland is right here in Chicago. Aw.



Later in the afternoon, we sipped on (maybe guzzled a little) Bombay Sapphire and tonics before heading to Osteria Via Stato. During dinner, we bought a bottle of wine and my dad toasted, "To a hug." (see post below) Very sweet. Dinner was really tasty...I know the reviews have been mixed, but we had a good experience.

My dad really likes blues music and we wanted to go somewhere within walking distance of their hotel, so we ended up at Blue Chicago and sat at the bar. I looked around and noticed something wasn't right. See if you can guess from looking at the picture below.



It was kinda like going to a Chinese restaurant if no one eating or working there were Asian. The last time I checked, the Blues weren't created by some guy named Tom from Schaumburg. The only black people were the photographs on the wall.



Literally.

All the Caucasians in the house were boppin' their heads (some off-beat, of course). If they were REALLY into the blues (like they pretended to be) maybe they could've done a little research and drove over to The Checkerboard Lounge in Hyde Park. But that would've probably made them feel a bit uncomfortable if they aren't in their "comfort zone." It was just an observation, but a very funny one to me.

I will give the performers credit where due --- the music was good, but I can't help but make a little fun of the situation. Here's me and my mom 'feelin' the blues'.



Life is hard when you're middle class and white. Sing it, sista.

This weekend was brought to you by the letter B.

Binge Drinking and Basketball.

Seriously, I am one testosterone tablet away from growing chest hair and a penis.

I love The Dirtbombs. I want to roll them up in a ham and cheese sandwich and eat them. I love them and want to marry them. I want to marry them and then eat them.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

I took the day off of work and am heading out with some of my guy friends to watch the NCAA games. Mainly, I want an excuse to have a beer during daylight hours on my day off. heh. Later tonight, Bob and I are getting together to see The Dirtbombs play at the Empty Bottle. I wonder if it will be awkward for Bob to see me and my future husband (& one of the drummers), Mr. Ben Blackwell, make eyes at each other. Har har.

I'd like "Hodge Podge" for $200, Alex.

Answer: *hack*... *hack*... *hack*... :: gurgle ::
Question: What is the sound that Wally makes when he throws up? (at 5:45 this morning)


Poor, little, totally drugged out, fattie.


Answer: "Marquette."
Question: "Who I hope wins the NCAA tournament, which starts today." WOOOOO!!


Answer: "I thought it was a love letter." Sigh. I'm a turd.
Question: "What did Megan think a note that Coach sent thanking her for her purchase actually was?"


Answer: "Regina and Joe's?"
Question: "Where does Megan REALLY want to suggest she and a date go on Saturday for shits and giggles?" Sounds like a totally friendly place.


Answer: "Cooking Class, bitches!"
Question: "What will Betty Rocker and I be doing tonight?"

Like it's my fault I'm 5' 10". Fine, I'll just jam my knees into the tiny, tiny asshole's back sitting in front of me.

Leprechaun with a blinky.



Of course, this menu item was hilarious after a couple of beers.



Seeing these guys walk down the street after the parade was kinda like seeing Mickey Mouse walking around without his head on. It's hard to see, but a bagpiper was still playing while walking down the street, which caused the random drunk girl behind him to freak out.



Cocktails make you think that taking pictures of the Sears Tower from the ground level is interesting.



They also make you think taking a photo of your friend, Jamie, being attacked by WWF wrestlers is hilarious.

Happy early St. Patty's Day from Chicago!

Re-cap of the weekend:

The weather in Chicago was pretty f-in' amazing all weekend (for the most part, sunny and upper 60s).

Friday, I met up with my Marquette friends for a little dinner and drinks in Lakeview.

Saturday morning, I headed downtown with friends to catch my first ever "St. Patty's Day Parade," which was fun, but kinda uneventful, except for one leprechaun float that looked like it was the unfortunate recipient of a blinky (I will NOT explain what that a "blinky" is, but use your imagination). I'll upload some pics and share later. Drinks naturally came after the parade, as well as a nice little alcohol-fueled "nap" on the Burlington Metra Line home.

Later that night, I met up with Carla at the Beacon where a 51-year-old grandfather named Pete hit on both Carla AND I. "Grandpa Pete" was super shifty. I told him he was shady to his face in attempt to get him to leave us alone, but I think that just made us more of a "challenge." Freak.

Last night, I went over to The Rockers' house where Carla made an amazing baked ziti, garlic bread, I brought a caesar salad and we had tirimisu for dessert and then we watched the season premiere of "The Sopranos." I don't want to ruin it for anyone that may have Tivoed it, but HOLY F'IN CRAP, yo. It's gonna be a good season.

4-day work week this week! WOOT!

Thinking:

I don't know if I'm just tipsy or what, but "Showtime at The Apollo" really makes me embrace my booty. Go ahead wit yo'self, girl.

Ok, I'm going to bed, now.

I bought this awesome "Office Fish Tank" right before Christmas. Unfortunately, I have yet to actually put a fish in it and therefore have to endure lots of questions from co-workers.

"What is that?"
or
"Why don't you have a fish in there yet?"

I've realized that I probably will never actually put a fish in it. I mean, the instructions say I'd have to clean it every other day (fuck that) and I also think PETA would be after me considering the deplorable tiny living conditions this fish would actually have.

I've decided it's become my office diorama instead. Viva art!

There's a mish-mash of things on my mind lately, including:

1. My knee is physically making a sound when I walk up stairs. It now creaks. If I learn to play the washboard, I might be considered a one-man band in Arkansas.

2. Air + 2 nights at the Wynn in Vegas for $375 from Chicago is looking pretty damn awesome right now.

3. I'm liking this ad featuring M. Night Shamalamadingdong.

4. St. Patty's Day parade is tomorrow downtown, which means they are dying the Chicago River green. Green beer will be consumed in celebration of leprechauns and pots of gold.

5. I can't stop looking at vacation packages. Calgon, take me away!

So, many of my Detroit friends moved to LA around the same time I left for Chicago. Apparently, people in LA become all motivated to make fun videos when there's "sunshine" and "everyone's tan." What happened to the days where we sat around, drank 40s and yelled at prostitutes on Cass Avenue? Anyway, it seems about 90% of the people I knew in Detroit are in this video.

It is my great privilege to present "Get Love," directed and edited by my friend, and town drunk, Josh. Music provided by our friend, Kevin's, band National Anthem (outta Toronto).

Word!

I have some amazing friends. Who sent me flowers today to congratulate me on my promotion/bonuses/spread general cheer, and as you can tell, I'm taking my job REALLY SERIOUSLY.

Thanks Laura, Erin and Katie.

Love, Megs

The badasses at Waverly Films are at it again. I met them out one night in LA last year, and am nothing but impressed with their work. Apparently, this short is getting all sorts of attention right now, plus, it's hilarious. I had heard someone recognized Jake on the street after this released. Although, it might be a little strange if someone came up to you and said, "Hey, you're the puppet rapist!"

So without further ado, I present....The Puppet Rapist.

And...Puppet Rapist (Volume II).

Images from the weekend:



I heart my friend, Kelly.



There was a few of these going on...



A proper lady ALWAYS flicks off the camera while doing a shot with her pinkie extended.



Clearly we were stock piling incase if there was some beer shortage in the bar.



Knives.

Friday night, we made the mistake of thinking going to an Irish bar for fish fry on the first Friday of Lent would be a good idea. So, instead we celebrated Ken's birthday at their house by eating pizza and playing a little poker. We didn't bet, and wouldn't you know it, I was having the game of my life and walked away a nothing-naire.

To celebrate my bonuses (I got another unexpected "thank you" in the form of a check from our VP on Friday afternoon), I purchased myself this little number in black and this little guy, also in black, since my old ipod broke. I'll be more responsible with the rest, but I owed myself a little fun.

On a sad note, Will and I broke up this weekend. I'm still confused and sad about the whole thing, but he's a great guy, and I wish nothing but good things for him. And that's about all I really want to say about that.

Ok, I'm off to take care of a few things before the Academy Awards begin. Go Reese!

I may not be the best Catholic in the world (pipe down, peanut gallery) but one thing I actually enjoy during Lent are the abundant Friday Night Fish Frys. A little perch, some tartar sauce and SKÖL TO JESUS!

And that's exactly what we're doing tonight to celebrate (albiet a couple days early) the man, the myth, the legend, that is Ken Rocker, Mr. Birthday Boy Extraordinnaire!

Photos to come. That is, if my digital camera is working.