LOOK AT HOW CUTE THAT IS. LOOK AT IT. MY INSIDES FEEL LIKE THEY’RE CLOUDS WITH HAPPY FACES ON THEM AND THEY’RE ALL SNUGGLING NOW.
Ok.. so I think the best way to tell yall how I’m doing is to tell you guys about my dreams. Like the ones I have in my sleep and not like my aspirations in life. My dreams have been NUTS lately!
Here is what I’ve learned from these dreams so far. I don’t know if babies remember anything later but I don’t think people should have sex around them, even if Scorsese is involved. I love Justin Timberlake more than I thought I did and that I need to learn how to leave when I want to because there are no bathrooms on subways, and because of the emotional work involved in deciding when to offer bathroom help.
The other night I had a dream that I was on the subway and I looked in the neighboring car and there were people having sex, but a bunch of babies were in the room and Martin Scorsese was filming it all with a crew. So I busted in and yelled “WHAT ARE ALL OF THESE BABIES DOING HERE?!?” and Martin Scorsese said, “It’s fine! The babies won’t remember it. It’s art!” And then I said “YEAH BULLSHIT MARTIN I’M TAKING THESE BABIES YA BIG PERV!”
So THEN! I pick up all the babies and move them to my subway car. But they’re in like… a pile? They’re not lined up and they’re all on top of each other, and they’re all wrapped in old, dirty towels from the early nineties. I can tell because of the gross colors they are. There’s expired salmon pink, a powdery blue that’s purposely slightly dingy, and a pleasant forest green.They are also pissed… they’re not crying, but they’re looking at me disapprovingly which I still don’t understand. Maybe it’s because I ruined their big break with Scorsese. That’s probably it. I’m thinking about all of this while trying to manage the pile of babies on the floor of the subway when I feel a man straddling my butt, but for some reason I’m not upset about this.. instead I have this weird feeling that I’m doing something wrong with the babies and this man is straddling me to signal that. Which I guess in New York City that’s statistically normal because they’re are tons of dudes communicating with their bodies there and it’s always very strange!
So I look up and he’s very attractive and also has an empty baby carrier strapped to his chest, and he says, “Hey! That’s my baby!”
Which makes me freak out and apologize profusely saying, “OMG I’M SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME HERE’S YOUR BABY DID YOU SEE WHAT MARTIN SCORSESE IS DOING I DON’T KNOW IF TAKING THE BABIES WAS OKAY HERE IS YOUR BABY I AM SO SO SORRY”
So I give him the baby, and then he asks me if I want to have a threesome with his wife! And I say sounds good because they were good looking, but then I get this sinking feeling that he and his wife are serial killers and I’m trying to figure out how to leave..
This is actually a common theme in my life! Recently, I’ve been in awkward situations where I’ve been like, “Oh man, how do I leave now?” Usually I just pretend that I have to use the bathroom and never come back. Then I feel bad though because if the people don’t know what’s going on they might think I’m having some difficulty in the bathroom, and when they heroically come to help me with my bathroom problems, I’m not there.
Or after thinking about how awkward it would be if they came into the bathroom to see if I was able to handle everything on my own, I wouldn’t be there. No closure. No knowing how I would’ve reacted. Bummer city for everyone.
Actually! Recently I had that dilemma because I went to a public bathroom and saw a person through the crack of the door, which was already uncomfortable, and then when I came back a long while later I saw him again! But when I asked if he was okay he didn’t answer at first, but when I started saying “Oh no what does this even mean? OH NOOO. What do I do now?!? Ummm hey! Wake up!” He said he was fine. Then I talked to him while I was peeing, and then I apologized to talking to him while I was on the toilet and said I’d stop talking.
Also, one time a person was making distressing noises in a stall next to me, and when I finally got up the nerve to be like “Are you okay?” they seemed annoyed! WHAT?!
I’ve sort of been on both sides of this because of my imagination!
I think I should give people more credit. Like, if someone needs toilet help they will ask for it. I don’t need to be a hero all the time.
ANYWAYYYYY BACK TO MY DREAM!
So, then my sister texts me saying she needs my help with something so I say “Oh man! I gotta go sorry byee!”
So maybe I had that dream because I need to pretend like my sister needs me when I want to not be somewhere?
Before that I had this amazing dream where Steven Chbosky invited me to his house to cook dinner, but then was like “Sorry, I gotta run, but you and JUSTIN can cook and I’ll be back for dinner!”
So, I’m in this super nice kitchen with like, the sun coming in through the windows and a lot of clean surfaces when JUSTIN FREAKIN TIMBERLAKE comes in to cook dinner with me, and I’m all like “Thank you brain.” and kiss two fingers and make a peace sign up in the air to send my brain a message.
And then I can’t stop freaking out, and Justin’s like, “Megan! Calm down!” and I’m like “OH MY GAHD YOU ARE JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE!!!”
That was hard. If I actually met him I’d be so chill. I’d be like “Oh, hi! I’m Megan. I don’t think we’ve met!”
loljk I’d urinate myself.
KIDDING! I would be okay I think.
Then we tangoed. It was as amazing as I thought it would be.
Time stood still as he whirled me through the kitchen filled with food we were going to eat. Good times with JT ya know?!
(Source: 89cats, via byebyefreebird)
Sorry I haven’t been writing. I’ve been writing screenplays about revenge fantasies and a hefty paper on offensive jokes.
I’m figuring out how I feel about them while also trying to write a comprehensive guide on how to navigate them for people who wanna be funny AND not a jerk! AND empowering!
BUT IF YOU WANT AN UPDATE ON MY LIFE I AM KICKING ASS AND TAKIN NAMES AND ALSO COLLECTING BUTTHAIR ON THE BOTTOM OF MY SHOES.
Some people track mud. I track in the butthair of my adversaries. What can I say?
I’m going home tomorrow! Which is great because my face is FULL O MUCUS.
I need some motherfuckin soup.
In other newwws I think I quit grinding because you can never see the person’s face behind you. Recently I grinded up on some dude, and all of a sudden his hands were in the air and I have no idea what his face looked like.
Was he crying? Was the crying bad or good? We will never know!
JK NEVER STOP GRINDING! GRIND ON PEOPLE YOU THINK ARE HOT! GRIND ON YOUR ACQUAINTANCES! NOT JUST SEXY INTERESTS. GRIND ON YOUR PROFESSORS! YOUR FRIENDS! YOUR ENEMIES! THE BAR! THE WALL!
GRIND FOR THE PEOPLE!
SCREAM IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS!!!
IT’S A NEW TOMORROW!!!! WITH SPARKLY STUFF AND MOVING YOUR HANDS IN SEMI CIRCLES WHILE YOU GRIND!
THE GLITTERY SPARKLES FOLLOW YOUR HANDS!
But for real do your thing! Get weird! But not too weird! I mean, as long as everyone’s cool it’s cool. Ya know.
Reign it back in, guys.
Wow. I’m glad we had that moment together.
FEARS, FEARS AND FEARS!!!!!!!!
AHHHHHHH!!! OH NO!!!
I am terrified.
I am terrified because for my conference work I have decided to bite the bullet and do stand up. The weird thing is I don’t find singing terrifying at all, I sound like a motherfucking robin in the spring time.
I also tanked and tanked and tanked with a blues band for two years in order to become comfortable singing in front of people. Then I drank a lot of alcohol to try to get over it, and tanked while I was drunk… and then one time I tried to hit this high note during a Led Zepplin song, but my nerves got to me and I had to apologize for making people’s ears bleed.
After humiliating myself over and over I got desensitized to the shame, stopped giving a crap, and everything got better. Now I have to begin the same painful journey with another thing I want to do in front of people.
The moral: nerves can kick your ass. But also! They’re you’re nerves. Unlike Miley Cyrus, they CAN be tamed.
But also, crowds can suck. One time I sang in front of a tough crowd and no one even cracked a smile, and I almost cried in front of them… so….. I feel like that can be either construed as very sad or very funny depending on how you picture it in your mind. Actually I hope that because it’s definitely just embarrassing and sad.
Also, one time I saw my two friends do stand up, and they told a lot of fucked up jokes that I loved, and I cracked up, and so did this other guy, but no one else did. Like, I almost peed my pants I laughed so hard. So then they felt weird because only I was laughing, and then I felt weird because I was the only one laughing, which may be worse than having no one laugh? Maybe they all felt bad because they just couldn’t get on our level. whatevaaaa!
And when I get stressed out my mind blanks, so I keep sitting down to write some stand up and then my brain just shuts down and goes AHHH NO. PROTECT YOUR FRAGILE EGO GIRRRRRL.
There is a really good chance no one will laugh because it’s my first time, and I’ve never seen someone’s first stab at stand up go well.
I have some no fail stories, but like, they’re pretty personal and disgusting and almost all of them involve semen. I don’t even know.
I also feel a little pathetic for being like “wah wah wah what if they don’t like me,” but I can’t just go up there and be like “I DON’T CARE IF YOU LAUGH, FUCK YOU!” because.. well, I do.
This one successful guy online made this video and was like “you’re going to suck for a while, but you’ll have good taste still, and you’ll get better blah blah blah.”
If you see me slapping my own chest,roaring in the mirror, and scream whispering “MEGAN FUCKING GILBERT MAN.” don’t be alarmed. I’m just getting PSYCHED UP. UHH.
If you wanna help you can join me. Ladiez room next Thursday night most probably.
AHHHH SO PAINFULL.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Love is pain~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
So, it’s time to let yall know how I’m doin.
Here’s a list of my current neuroses!
1.) How many seagulls have I killed by not recycling and how can I make it right?
2.) Have any of the seagulls somehow benefited from the things I haven’t recycled? For example, have any of them made a nest out of a chip bag I threw in the garbage? Did my un-recycled chip bag somehow kill a predator, allowing it’s prey to survive? Is that even okay? Am I stopping the circle of life in some weird way? What about the factory farms?! I like hot-dogs but I also think I’d love chilling with an alive pig. There is definitely an ethical conflict here. I can’t be friends with my food. I don’t even know any pigs.
3.) I like Brooklyn.. but I also don’t.
4.) Can I pull off highwaisted shorts? -Oh wait never mind the answer is yes.
Well, actually the answer is that it’s complicated. Anyone can pull of highwaisted shorts if they buy the right ones… then again, some people buy the wrong ones and just flaunt their camel toes with a champion-like swagger that makes everyone want to have sex with them. I never thought camel toes could be sexy but whatever it’s 2014! The year of the camel toe!!! DO NOT FIGHT IT!
5.) Why does wet food that shouldn’t be wet bother me so much?
6.) Did my boss think I was crazy or more relatable when I was trying to make trumpet sounds while stocking snacks in the weird food closet? What does everyone here call the weird food closet? Is it a stock room? I don’t want to call it that and then be wrong.
This morning has led me closer to my destiny, so you can read about it and be changed or go live your empty life, cause I don’t give a CRAP.
It all started when I was awoken at 6:15 in the morning by my phone. That was not cool. It was one of those weird chimey campus alert things, and the sound of the chimey chimes made my ears scream… then it said “Due to inclement weather, there will be a two hour delay?” Then I thought to myself, “what does that even mean at a college?” and went back to bed.
Then my alarm went off. Did you guys know I set my alarm like five times because I am a tenacious over-sleeper and an individual?
Anyway, after the fifth alarm I always STILL go back to sleep, and then wake up a half hour later. This is a problem that I know how to fix, but my bed is warm and the world is cold, as you will soon see.
So, I walk to the train station, and the trains are all running late, so I wait and wait and make friends with the bagel guy, and at this point everyone who has been waiting feels a sense of camaraderie about one another which is super sweet, and then the train finally comes! I sit down on the train! And this old guy sits next to me, and everything is great until I close my eyes to take a little nap and the old man starts whispering to himself… AND THEN WE MADE EYE CONTACT. So I got off the train. No lie, no lie, no lie. Too creepy.
Also! If that guy didn’t suck at whispering, we wouldn’t have had a problem. #loudwhisperingsucks
So.. Then I bumped into a lot of other creepy old guys who all looked the same! They were all really fat white guys with age spots and they all had the same type of sweat suit, running sneakers and beanie look going on. I think they all meet in one of those weird basements where the doors are close to the ground and you wonder if there’s like.. a weird chicken fighting ring or Say Yes To The Dress marathon happening down there. And, you know, there might be, but there might also be a bunch of old fat white guys trying to figure out what matching outfit to wear.
And then there will be that one white fat guy walking around who’s just trying to be comfy but gets lumped in with the weirdos. Poor not creepy non-suspecting old fat white guy.
So I finally get to work an hour late because of the hard obstacles I faced as a human being of the world and I did some intern-y stuff.
Then I was hit with a hunger that can only be compared to the emptiness one would feel in a terrifying cavern with wormy teethy things eating everything inside of it.
Kind of like the tapeworm diet. I was tapeworm diet hungry.
So I went to this beautiful place called…. BAGEL MAAAAVEN.
Bagel Maven is the best bagel place in New York City, maybe the world, and where my food baby was conceived. I ate a pumpernickel bagel, their last one. I ordered scallion cream cheese and lox along with it.. AND IT WAS GLORIOUS. AND IT WAS TOO MUCH FOOD. But I ate it anyway, and now I have a food baby gestating inside of me.
Here are the things that are on my mind.
This is a facebook status I almost posted, but instead decided to share with tumblr.. I mean, as long as you share right?
"Yo did Miley Cyrus give Cosmo a million dollars or something? Because they’re all like Miley, Miley, Miley, Miley, Miley, and I’m like, Hey Cosmo. Teach me how to please a man sessually. what was the middle sister on the Brady Bunch? I don’t know." -ME (A GENIUS)
I also think I am the new Jan Brady and Miley is Marcia. Look the fuck out because when you break your nose I’m going to secretly be happy about it.
Just kidding Miley protect your face!
I mean, I like Miley’s fierce whatever attitude and her outfits, and when she talks I think to myself “Uh oh is that racist?! Probably! Uh oh!!! Stop Miley!” But Cosmo thinks the sun shines out of her butthole. MORE BLOWJOBS LESS MILEY. This is my philosophy on life I think.
I also think that Kings of New York is a craazy movie and I don’t think coke is actually that fun. There were just so many topless people at a party in one scene and some of them were having sex on the bags of cocaine, while licking some of the cocaine, and I was like whaaaaaat. Then they all got shot, and I was like WHAT?!? WHY?!?!? Woah.
BUT! That funeral scene was amazing. I actually screamed. It also helped that Christopher Walken was such a dreamboat. At one point he said, “If I can do just one good thing. If I can have just one year,” and he had so many feelings. So many hunky, sexy, man feelings about selling drugs to buy a hospital for the children, all while sporting cheekbones that could cut through granite.
Another thing that I think is that I ate too much pie and that I didn’t even like the pie that much. It was apple. Whatever.
These are my #feelings. *Respect* that.
and when that happens you should do the worm in public.
How do I tell my boss that I have diabetes?
… oh well!
Life is good yall. Today was my first day at my internship and I got to know the photocopier very well. If you need shit copied with staples.. I’m good at it. Just sayin. Life skills!
I also tried to tell a joke but the only part of the joke the person heard was me whispering “I will kill you” But it’s okay because it has to be! What can I say?! Imma jokester! Gotchaaa! It’s funny!
I’m funny because I’m different from most people.
There will be a longer story about how a secretary yelled at me this morning for fangirling the dean of studies.. but I can’t give you everything at once. Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free? I’m not here to just throw my milk around. Please back off. I will milk all over you if you are kind and patient with me. ;)