Triple Threat.

I’m going out of town for a few days, as I suppose most people will be since it’s a holiday in all, but the 3 of you who read this site religously may be down in the dumps with the lack of posting. Or you may do something with your free time. Read a book. Frolick among a field of flowers. Write a poem about the trees. Or just get completely wasted in order to escape the agony of another day without a crazy bananas post.

Today I spent my lunch at a park crawling with children out from their last day of school. Why? I was hanging out with my crew. Well, my four-year-old crew. So now I’m posting a picture of them.

Makes my heart melt.

Another Night Lost.

I’ve officially now spent another evening uploading pictures. Although I did have a bottle of wine to help me out, so I guess it wasn’t that bad.

First up, graduation weekend on Flickr .

Seriously, these pictures made me succomb to the tanning demon. I look deathly for Christ’s sake!

Second, Cindy and Lee’s new home addition, along with some pics of Cindy in her garden and the new addition to the Penner/Peters Household. Notice how Cindy’s plants are still alive. Maybe I should pay more attention [see any entry mentioning my plants] to her gardening techniques.

Finally, Molly, who went to her first vet check-up today. She has tapeworm, but was a total sweetie and all the people at the clinic loved her! Yea! We’ll convince people all Rottweilers aren’t bastards yet!!!

I need a snack…

When I was in Italy I gained a good 25 lbs. No, I am not exaggerating and I’m not overcompensating like many females do when it comes to weight gain. And no, I’m not saying it just so people will tell me I’m not fat.

You see, in Italy (on top of all the great food and wine) there are huge amounts of dolci, otherwise known as artery-clogging sweets. Gelato, the most delicious of all ice-cream, was my arch nemisis. It usually won.

Hello, my name is Megan and I’m a snacker. I love candy, treats, greasy foods and anything with sugar.

Literally, I was getting on the plane from Portugal to Amsterdam and I almost shit myself when I learned there would be no snacks on the plane! “NO SNACKS! WHAT KIND OF COMMUNIST COUNTRY IS THIS!!!”

I know that my obsessive problems with food are mostly genetic. My mother is the queen of bad eating and slow metabolisms. She used to be one of those “tiny people” who could never gain weight. 700 McChicken nuggets later…it’s a different story.

Today my boss noticed my crabby demenor and brought me back a bag of Snickers Poppables. She knows the way to my heart is through my tummy. I have almost eaten the whole bag. Chubbs, it seems, has returned. Now I just have to make sure I don’t become the McChicken Princess.

The Family Gal

I’m not a very good storyteller. I try, but usually I’m the only one laughing. But when it comes to family tales, I usually win the war of words (except when Mara’s uncle is chasing housewives down the street while she’s attempting to hide her smoking and suspended license from her grandfather).

Dad and Mom met in college. According to her, he was a dumb jock with no future, who the priests hated. She was a pure-as-gold angel of a freshman, who no one thought should date the “big man on campus.” She got drunk at a party with him, then taught him how to spell. Then they got married. Then they had kids. Then he became very, very smart. Went to Stanford, Oxford and finally settled in Manhattan, Kansas. He also did some work for NASA. He also made it impossible for any of his kids to seem successful, because seriously, he worked for fucking NASA!!!

When their two kids were in high school they decided to have two more. No one can figure out why. This is where I came into the picture.

Here’s where the amusement starts. My mom starts grounding people for using her shampoo (a whole flipping summer!), becomes the CEO of QVC and then moves to Florida because she hates Kansas. Dad stays in Kansas. No, they are not divorced. Yes, it is weird.

Now my dad, drug induced brother, and uncle are living in Manhattan while my mother inhabits her double-wide in Florida.

Now we all have a basis for the rest of my family stories. Godspeed and goodnight.

Solicited Advice (Really, I need some)

What do you do when a person you care about is screwing everything up? You can’t go to that person’s family because you’re part of it and no one will believe you anyway. You can’t talk to the person in question because they will just say, “You did bad things in the past too! You’re not perfect!”

I know that I am NOT a perfect person [see past entries, I am a strange, messed up little woman], but I’d like to think that one thing I am very good at is being a friend. I’m a good friend. I hope most of my friends would agree. And I know I’ve messed up some amazing friendships in my life [you know who you are], but I think in the past few years I’ve realized how important it is to stay close to people you care about. I have not done a very good job with this person in question.

This person and I used to be extremely close. Somewhere along the line we lost touch with each other, and with this loss we also lost respect and true caring. Now when we see each other, it seems forced and obligatory. This person thinks I look down on him for the mistakes he’s made in his life. Trust me, I cannot and do not have the right to look down on anyone for their mistakes. I’ve made too many of my own. And I’m trying to own up to them. It takes time to change.

How do I tell this person I’m worried without driving them further away? Without ruining what relationship we have left? Without seeming uptight and like a snitch? How can I show him that what he’s doing is serious and could get him into trouble he just can’t understand?

I’m afraid if I don’t do anything, there could be serious trouble. Very. Serious. But what the hell am I supposed to do???!

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