Despite the rumors, I'm not dead.

I did recently go on a date with a lead singer of an 80s cover band here in Chicago. I met him while out for my friend Kelly's 30th birthday. The lead singer kept coming out in the crowd to sing and dance with me. Which I found to be a little strange, until he later asked me for my number as I was trying to guide a very drunken friend of mine into her designated driver's car. So we went out, and he's a pretty nice guy. Here's the thing, though. He has a ponytail. I mean, at first I thought it was just a part of his 80s schtick, but nope. It's really attached. I'm trying to get past that, but I don't think I really can. I know superficial things like that can be changed, but how would I ever bring that up without sounding like a total asshole? Boo.

Last night, I watched my beloved Packers lose to the goddamn Cowboys. God, do I hate them. Last night, I made the proclamation that I hate the Cowboys even more than I hate the Bears when it's Packers vs. Bears. Now, that's some hate. At least we have 2 good quarterbacks. That's more than the Bears can say.

Happy Thanksgiving! I'm in Wisconsin, about to go out to eat (ugh, I know) and our reservations are right in the middle of the Packer game.

Seriously, I'm surprised the restaurant didn't shut down for the 3 hours to pay homage to his holiness, Brett Favre.

Cheese will be consumed.

So I got tagged to do this meme. I've been tagged before but haven't bothered to actually do one, so here ya go.

1) I must post 7 random facts about myself.
2) I must then tag 7 other people.
3) I must send them a comment telling them that they have been tagged.

Seven random facts for seven brothers:

Some of you might know these, some may not.

1. I'm an only kid.

2. I have a strong, irrational fear of spiders. Well, any bugs with a lot of legs.

3. The farthest place I've ever been is probably Kangaroo Island in South Australia. But the farthest I ever felt from home was Kenya.

4. I'm a knuckle cracker. I know. I hate it, too.

5. In college I once made a bet with my friends during Harley's 50th Anniversary in Milwaukee that we had to each hitch a ride on some random stranger's motorcycle before the night was over. We all accomplished that goal within about 20 minutes after said bet was made. Safe, huh?

6. I feel the greatest invention ever has to be modern plumbing.

7. Some quazi-famous people I've met include: Florence Henderson (the mom from The Brady Bunch), Gayle Sayers, Dan Hampton and Jim McMahon (all 3 were 1985 Superbowl Champ Chicago Bears), Andy Dick, Cindy Lauper, Mayor Daley, Ted Nugent, Jack White, and a bunch of random people in bands that no one cares about anymore.

No one's going to bother doing this, but I'm tagging: Both of The Rockers, Charlie, Freakgirl, Marjon and Yvon, Jeff (if he's still even blogging), and Thode (I'm trying to coax her back to writing again).

Guess who just wiped out at work tripping on her own laptop cord?

The Russian judge gave me a 10 for style points.

I might be the only person in America that could give 2 shits about Beowulf.

I met the Mayor of Chicago last night.

I ended up wearing my jeans to the function because I decided Daley can handle it. When I walked into the room, he was standing in front of this fake city scape skyline of Chicago backdrop. His "handlers" were rushing people in-and-out for photo opps with him. It was like meeting Mickey Mouse at Disney World. Considering I was a good foot taller than him, equating him to Mickey Mouse is kind of appropriate. He asked me, "What's your name?" I said, "Megan." He repeated, "Megan." We posed for a photo and it was over. I was hoping to ask him about the current tax hikes, but I'm pretty sure I would've been tasered by his security people.

I promise to publish the photo as soon as I get it because it's guaranteed to be the worst photo of me ever. No woman looks good when she's a foot taller than the dude next to her. No woman WANTS to feel like King Kong.

Megan attack! Gaaaaaaaahhh!

A MySpace Blog post from our friend, Tyrone:

Post titled: Fuck wit mah buick, ya fuckin wit me

sum jealous niggaz slashed the tires on mah buick. they might has well called my mama out her name. if i find the muhfuckaz who did dat shit ima cut they muhfuckin throats. i coulda bin one of dem crazy azz crackaz all up here in Morton Grove an shit. they be comin out of dem whiteboy bars like bringer Inn and Champs all fucked up on booze, pork and G_d knows what the fuck else. I gots to get back to my hood- Archer and Damen- REPRESENT! where its safe and my car dont get fucked wit. holla!

I was invited to a reception that the Mayor is going to be at tonight. I should probably change out of these jeans, huh. Daley's a blue collar guy, he can hang, right?

Fine. I'll change.

Papa John's just announced that you can now order a pizza via text message after you set up an account.

I might accidentally text Papa John's that I love them at about 4 AM on Saturday.

Last night I was walking to the El when I was stopped by a homeless guy and the following exchange occurred:

Hobo: "Excuse me, can you help me with some spare change?"

Me: "No, sir, I'm sorry."

Hobo: "Ok. Can I have your number instead?"

Me: :: burst out laughing ::

Hobo: (mumbling) "....make sweet love..."

Me: :: laughs again ::

Hobo: :: looks serious, and blinks ::

Me: :: speeds up walking pace ::

Dude, I think I gained like, 5 lbs this weekend. My friend had a cookie exchange party in which I made my famous Melting Moments. They actually turned out on the first try which I completely contribute that to my awesome new oven that actually tells you what the actual temperature is inside (this is in comparison to the one I had in my apartment in which you had to guess if the oven was pre-heated or not). What kind of shitty oven manufacturer makes an oven that you have to guess what the approx. temperature is? Obviously made by a man that only eats frozen pizzas. Ugh.

Off to the gym for me...

At work. You know, because I have a cat.







(just see below).

We have a cat litter client. I don't work on the account, but the clients were recently in town and someone I work with introduced me to them to as, "This is Megan and she has a cat." Not, "This is Megan, our Senior Account Executive who works on blah blah blah..." Nope. "This is Megan, and she has a cat." Scooping cat poop out of a box is on the list of my accomplishments. I'm pretty sure Martha Stewart is introduced the same way to people she's never met.

I need a cocktail.

Two of our clients drove in from Iowa today for a meeting, so we're wining and dining them at DeLaCosta tonight. Mmmmm...deliciousness. The last time my boss saw this client was in Des Moines at an Applebee's, which (in all honesty) is probably one of the nicer restaurants offered in Iowa. As the story goes, our client was slightly apologetic about the lack of fine dining in Iowa, proceeded to open up the Applebee's colorful drink menu, and in all seriousness asked my boss if she ever had a margarita before.

Seriously, how can you NOT love Midwesterners?

Working with a glass of red wine in your cube makes everything so much better to deal with. "Whatsch your prah-blem?" :: slur slur :: is how I'm currently handling every phone call.

Work bowling leagues are also in discussion. I would dominate. Obviously.

Here I was all pissed off about the stupid Brown line being late this morning and then I heard the reason it was late is because it apparently CAUGHT ON FIRE. Nothing says "good morning!" like your mass transit en fuego.

This weather is making me in the cooking mood, which is basically what I did all weekend. Friday night, I took a "Party Diva" course at Flavour that focused on easy party ideas. I need major help in this area because I feel the need that everything event-realted be grandiose (even just a casual hang-out at my house) that I end up doing nothing instead. Boo on me. Flavour invited author, Stacey Ballis, to guest host the class. Stacey has been on the Rachael Ray Show nine times and is hilarious. The owner of Flavour joked, "But if you walked past Rachael Ray, would she even know who you were?" Stacey said that she probably would recognize her, but wouldn't be sure how she knew her. Which reaffirms my dislike for Rachael. Even the way she spells her name is irritating to me.

Tonight, it's noodles at New Pot with my friend, Will. Perfect comfort food for this cold weather.

Wow, what a postitively shitastic week!

I had to have the "Come to Jesus" talk with someone I work with today, which is never fun. Especially when the person is 25 years older than you. I can't imagine being 50 and having to listen to some asshole 30-year-old tell you that your job is on the line. Ugh. But I'm going to work with him and hopefully it'll get better.

Tonight, I'm taking a class at Flavour Cooking School in Forest Park. It's a class on how to make party appetizers. How postively 1950s housewife! Whatever, it will be comforting and fun probably exactly what I need right now.

On a complete side note, I just noticed the timer option on my dishwasher. I wanna meet the person that decides that they want their dishwasher to start exactly 8 hours from now. Simply because I want to see just how far the stick is up their ass.

Happy Friday.