Awww. I was hoping this was going to be MY outlaw name. Foiled again.

WTF. Another crazy Sheboygan story for you.

And no offense, but Michelle Branch? There's no one better to stalk?

[thanks to Betty Rocker for the link]

Yet another unbelievable story from my hometown. I went to Holy Name Catholic school and high school with these twins, but they were a year younger than me.

So messed up.

I hate sitting at work waiting for creative more than you fucking know.

Um, am I eating poop? Seriously, they couldn't come up with a better name?

One of my (few) assignments for class this week is to write 10 funny band names. Which, given the rule that 9 out of 10 ideas will suck, I basically have to write 100 band names.

The best band name I've heard of in a while was a band that Thode was once in called "Wally & The Beavs." (which was a 1 guy & 2 chick band) Brilliance. I still have no idea what instrument she played or if she just provided hand claps. Since she's a white girl that basically means clapping off-beat and swaying for no reason side-to-side. Maybe she'll enlighten us.

Also, apparently writing in the 'ole blog does not "count" in this class, so I will (for now) bid you adieu.

God, the weather is so gorgeous here that I just want to set up camp in my apartment's courtyard. The abundance of dog poo might put a wrench in those plans. And the homeless guy that tries to crawl into my tent with me. And considering I literally just watched a guy get hauled away from my building in handcuffs, the whole Po Po be ruinin' my camping trip.

God. I really gotta move.

Which is why I'm excited I was pre-approved for my first home loan this weekend! It's exciting because hopefully where I'm moving won't have convicted felons living on my floor, and because there won't be convicted felons living on my floor. That's all I'm really asking for. Oh, and a dishwasher.

Holy fucking shit. My friend,Brian, who I went to Marquette with (as well as spent a semester abroad in England with and was the buddy I traveled with to Kenya) is published in Newsweek.

I posted a photo of us a few years ago when he was being deployed to Iraq, afraid I'd never see him again. Three tours later, he's heading back home.

The boob pains have gone away. I am, yet again, a mere mortal.

[propels safely to the ground]

I am hoping this isn't your first time at "Write On, Megs." Because if it is, you are probably really confused. Or maybe you're starting to tingle in your nether regions. And if you are experiencing the tingles, I say, "Welcome, Perv!" But if you're just merely confused, I suggest you read the post from Monday.

Switching gears, it's no secret that I have some bad taste in music. I know this. But in my defense, someone had to keep UB40 employed all those years.

Perhaps you are listening to the radio right now. Maybe you're flipping through and Fergie's "Glamorous" comes on. And you may quickly change stations in disgust and ask yourself (acting smug), "What asshole likes THIS?" Well, me. I'm your asshole, Asshole. But you KNOW as well as I do that most 12-year-olds would have no idea how to spell "glamorous" if it wasn't for Fergie right now. That song is practically the Aughties version of PBS' "3-2-1 Contact." Recognize.

Now if she could only make a hit song called, "Vacuum." I always fuck that one up.

Girls start so young with the psycho card these days, don't they?

:: pets young Ashley Ferl's head ::

Good luck dating in 10 years, sweetheart.

Every morning that I leave the house for work now, I look at little Wally and say, "Don't die today, okay?"

Who knew the same makers of Wal-Mart's "Special Kitty" (the cat food for "slow" cats, I'm convinced) are the same makers of all Iams and all those other brands. Sad and fucked up.

Speaking of Wal-Mart, you can dun gone and get married right there in the lawn & garden center if you are "lucky" enough to.

Before I begin this post, yes, I realize I'm a 29-year-old watching MTV reality shows, but....

Damn, did you see the preview for next week's "The Hills?!"

- Heidi: "My answer is no." (Spencer, I don't want to move in with you.)
- Spencer: "Well, my answer is get out of my car."

No he din't!

WHOOO! Something about stupid spoiled rich kids getting burned - I love it I love it I love it!

:: flips on "Hardball with Chris Matthews" ::

I swear, if anyone looks at me cross-eyed, I will swift kick them to the throat. Wearing pointy shoes.

PMSing much, Megan?

I wish women got some sort of bionic powers while PMSing. Like, you may experience breast tenderness this week, but that's only because they double as self propellers to whisk you around the city while solving crimes.

I'm really losing it.

Last night I took my first (of 8) writing classes. I was a bit nervous going into it, but everyone is so nice and funny (duh) that there wasn't anything to be nervous about. And I didn't feel out of place or 'out of my league' at all - everyone's at different levels and you're just working against yourself, so it's pretty low pressure. It isn't for a couple more levels up that you actually have to audition your work to get into class.

They actually DID ask everyone why you're taking the class and now everyone knows about this stupid blog (and my chili boy dating story), so if you found it - word!

This weekend, my friend, Kristin came in from Toronto. Her husband was playing at SXSW and she figured she didn't want to sit around Toronto all week by herself, so she made a little trip to visit us in li'l ole Chicago. We stumbled upon a great restaurant that I had never been to before, called Tango Sur. I have to give a shout out because it was a great little find - delicious and has a great atmosphere, if you can get past the loud Chicagoans trying to out shout eat other at the dinner table. WAIT, GUYS. MY STORY IS SO FUNNY I WANT THE ENTIRE RESTAURANT TO HEAR IT. So fucking obnoxious. The restaurant is lit entirely by candles, and I'm still kinda surprised no one has lit themselves on fire yet. Now that would be some dinner theater I can support!

Happy day after St. Patty's Day. Known hence forth as St. Hangover Day.

Before venturing out on my 7-hour drinking binge (with a break for dinner in between), I ran into the weekend National Guard Warrior who lives in my building again. Some of you may remember the last time I ran into him on the elevator, I asked him "When did you get back?," (thinking he had just been in Iraq) and he said, "Just now, today." And I went on and ON congratulating him and he said, "Uh, it was only for the weekend." D'oh.

So, given our history of my ridiculous blubbering, I was slightly embarrassed to see him - he, again, wearing his fatigues and me in a green shimmery vest and obnoxious Mardi Gras-style shamrock beads, ready for a different sort of combat. He wished me a Happy St. Patty's Day and I, so eloquently managed to stammer, "Happy 4th of July." OH MY GOD.

This all happened BEFORE the drinking started. Luckily, I have no photos to document the rest of the day's shenanigans.

What an embarrassing Marquette game last night. They played so bad that CBS turned our game off and starting playing the VCU/Duke game instead. I was hopeful after that Michigan State player dislocated his elbow (it was so gross - you could actually SEE the dislocation) that we might be able to get a least somewhat close in score. Ah, well. There's next year.

I didn't do an office pool this year, but helped the hot (annoying) dude who sits next to me with his picks. When he asked me to pick between Gonzaga and Indiana, I told him to pick Gonzaga because it sounds like gorgonzola. Seeing as Gonzaga lost last night, maybe we shouldn't base our picks on which team reminds us the most of cheese.

So, what perks do YOU get through your job? Oh, a company car, you say? Stock options? Yeah, well, do you get FREE PUDDING?

I didn't think so.

:: licks back of fork, since I could find a spoon anywhere in this building ::

Hallelujah!

I got my tax return AND paid from work on the same day! This is extremely exciting for me, seeing as I mistakenly paid two bills too early this month and crunched myself into a situation where on Sunday I found myself buying a box of Tuna Helper. At Wal-Mart. In quarters.

I get pulled over for the stupidest shit.

Tonight, while merging onto I-290 into rush hour traffic, a cop pulled me over. I had just merged in between 2 trucks and thought it was a good place to go without slowing down traffic. Well, apparently I merged too early and crossed two solid lines. The cop, who was OUTSIDE his vehicle, standing there, pointed at me to pull me over. Seriously, that's how stuck in traffic I was.

$75 later, I was on my way. Seriously, wasn't there a heroin bust he could've been making? I crossed two solid lines and you're gonna bust my chops?

Why the Po Po gotta keep the white woman down? Fuck tha Police!

In the state of Illinois, they take away your license until you pay the citation. Its replacement is this hand written yellow-ish piece of paper with all of your information on it. My only question for the cop was, "So, if I were going to try to get into a bar, this is what I should hand them?" He smiled and said, "Yes, ma'am."

All righty then. A girl's gotta have priorities. St. Patty's Day is coming up, yo!

Dear blog,

I'm really struggling with you these days. I feel like too many people I actually know are aware (and read) you and I can't talk about anything "good" really anymore. A while ago, an ex (who I was still somewhat friends with at the time) found it, read it, and because of it, I really put the last nail in that coffin. And just last week I had another scare that a co-worker of mine found it (thanks, Jeff). Plus, seriously, how much can you *really* say when your parents read it? I mean, come'n. (Sorry mom and dad, but we've talked about this before, so I don't feel as bad saying it here). I almost feel like we've gone as far as we can go. It's you, it's not me. I mean, wait.

So, I'm starting this writing class at Second City on Sunday and am a little nervous about it. I'm a little fearful that on my first day of class, the "teacher" (or whatever) will ask us, "Why are you here?" and seriously, how stupid am I going to sound when I say that I want to make my stupid dating stories more funny. Because, really, how much more can I expand upon about chili boy (and eating chili on patio furniture which is set up in his living room on a date)? Because it doesn't really get much worse than that.

So, I guess I'll hang in there and get more creative about the shiz I write in here. We're at a turning point.

xoxo -
Megan

PS. Yes, I just actually wrote a letter to my blog. SHUT IT.

Last night around 8:30, I got a call from my friend, Tarah ("T"), saying she's in town from Milwaukee and could she stop by. Seeing as I hadn't showered yet and was laying around watching a documentary about 16-year-old conjoined twins, sure! Perfect! Luckily, I've know T since I was 14, so I didn't really care. Afterwards, we watched the documentary "I eat 33,000 calories a day." Good times.

If you came over today, I have "World's Tallest Man," and one about a 20" tall 2-year-old with some kind of rare weird disease. Next up to Tivo: "I have 15 kids." It's like the circus on my TV.

Last night, we celebrated one of my best friends, Laura's, 30th birthday at Cafe Iberico for some sangria and Spanish tapas. That place is ridiculously busy - people were waiting outside in the rain for a seat. And now I know why - pitchers of sangria are only $14 and our total dinner bill for three of us was $35. We started laughing when we saw the bill. It's like the H&M of restaurants. Replace the Bangladesh child slave labor seamstresses with illegal alien line cooks and you got yourself a hit restaurant in Chicago.* :: thumbs up, Cafe Iberico! ::

*I'm sure they practice legal employment actions, I'm just saying...it's crazy cheap. Don't sue me.

Anyway, moving right along, tonight is another 30th birthday party - we're going to the Grotto for dinner & drinks. Very nice of the host to take 35 of us out there. I think it's in Viagra triangle district of Chicago, so I'll let you know if I pick up a rich 65-year-old daddy for Wally. Just kidding. I don't date anyone younger than 70.

I like to move it, move it.

Unfortunately, I'm not a MegaMillions winner this morning. I know.

Although it lead to a good discussion at work about everyone we've ever known or heard of to win the lotto. A guy I work with, Steve, was sitting courtside at a Pistons game and asked the guy sitting next to him how he got his great seats. He said, "Well, actually, I won the lotto." Steve said, "Well, if you don't mind me asking, how much did you win?" The guy said, "Ten Million, and if I could take it back, I would." Apparently, after he won, he got a divorce and a chain of bad events started happening to the guy.

I went to a Tigers game with a girl whose family won the lotto, and one of the girls with us leaned over and sneered "Oh, she's from lotto money." As if to say, "Don't take her snotty attitude to heart - she's just new money trash." Aren't girls lovely to one another?

I looked up some other tales of lotto woes from USA Today:

• William "Bud" Post, who won $16.2 million in the Pennsylvania Lottery in 1988, had a brother who tried to have him killed for the inheritance. Post lost and spent all his winnings. He was living off Social Security when he died in January.

• Two years after winning a $31 million Texas Lottery in 1997, Billie Bob Harrell Jr. committed suicide. He had bought cars, real estate, gave money to his family, church and friends. After his death it was not clear whether there was money left for estate taxes.

• Victoria Zell, who shared an $11 million Powerball jackpot with her husband in 2001, is serving time in a Minnesota prison, her money gone. Zell was convicted in March 2005 in a drug- and alcohol-induced collision that killed one person and paralyzed another.

• Evelyn Adams, who won the New Jersey Lottery twice, in 1985 and 1986, for a total $5.4 million, gambled and gave away all of her money. She was poor by 2001, and living in a trailer.

Now, don't you feel better about not winning this morning? Yeah, me either.

Confidential to Jeff - I hate you. ;) Guess who called "the hot guy" to apologize only to be met with complete confusion. I bought him a coffee for no reason and now he wants to know why I'm sorry. I know it was you, jerky!

I think I clocked in about 6 hours of sleep all weekend. So fun, but so tired.

Janet came into town yesterday afternoon. It's amazing we got in touch with each other at all, seeing as I didn't have her cell and didn't know what airport or time she was flying in, but it all miraculously worked out. Betty Rocker met us out for dinner at Trattoria Gemelli and had a delicious dinner that included arancini, which is basically risotto balls. Sentences like, "My, what amazing balls you have," were abundent afterwards. Adding a touch of class wherever we go.

Afterwards, we were going to meet up with a few friends at The Beacon, but got side railed when we heard that the local dive gay bar, The Nutbush, was closing its doors forever. Let me tell you, the Nutbush was packed! (I'm sure there's a joke in that sentence somewhere). I had the misfortune of being offered to see a 4' 9" man named Carmen (who claimed to be mob affiliated) naked photos that he brought in to pass around. He was so short that his eyes were directly even with my chest, which became highly entertaining whenever he wanted to get past me. We danced to Cher before leaving and really, what more do you really want? Adieu, Nutbush. Adieu.

Finally we ended up at the Beacon where Janet was able to meet a few of my friends before calling it a night. All in all, a great weekend. So sleepy.

Janet rolls into town from NJ tomorrow! I imagine cocktails at the Beacon are in order.

Bartend'a - give me your finest Miller Lite pronto - we have a guest in town!

I gave her a laundry list of things we could do (I can't help it - it's the event planner in me) and one of those things includes possibly seeing Jim Gaffigan, who I find hilarious. We'll see.

What are yous up to?

You are speaking to the newest student at Second City! I'm taking a writing course there, and - bonus - found out I get access to free shows!

:: high kicks, bringing it down to a karate chop ::