Job Application

Harpo Studios
1058 W. Washington Blvd.
Chicago, Il 60607

November 20th, 2009

Pirate Meghan
Apartment w/ Cat
Kamloops, BC V2C V2C
www.piratemeghan.blogspot.com

Dear Oprah,

My name is Meghan, and I am currently applying for the job Queen of Daytime Television and Other Stuff, post date starting in 2011. I am available for this job effective 2011 and will be able to relocate to Chicago.

I have no previous experience in broadcast television, but don’t let that stop you from considering my candidacy for the position. Like you, I have a background in entertainment journalism, a strong drive and a love for great shoes. I am able to entertain and relate to others and feel I can use the platform to show surburban soccer moms everywhere, everything from Blogging to Online Dating-the Do’s and Don’ts.

I may not have a Stedman in my life, but don’t you worry I’ll pick up right off on the are you/aren’t you debate with Gayle due to the fact that I am married to my best friend on facebook and it keeps people guessing. Your Favourite Things show will be as amazing as ever with Macbooks and Iphones for all (guess I’d better start doing lunch dates with Steve now) and I even have friends in Chicago that I know would work well on the show too. Oh, but one thing is enough Adult Contemporary singers on the show, Lady Gaga and Jay-Z need to make their way to the sound stage.

If asked, I can provide an extensive list of bloggers for reference who are legit and able minded and will make a great production team for the show. Feel free to contact me at the blog provided or piratemeghan at hotmail dot com to discuss this opportunity further.

Sincerely,
Meghan L.


P.S. Obama-rama representing.
P.P.S. Would it help if I told you I almost named my cat Oprah?
P.P.P.S. I love you.

TMI Thursday: The Time Santa Took Out My Tampon

So, on Friday I had the unique pleasure of getting a Pap smear AND a cervical biopsy at once. Yeah, I know, you’d think it was my birthday or something (and I just officially lost all my male readers).

Let me tell you there is nothing comfortable about a pap smear from the bottom bearing paper gown to the poking and the prodding of your vadge like it’s a grade four science experiment. The epic point came when the MALE doctor came towards me with the cutter thing and stated, “This won’t hurt a bit.” And before I could think, I shrieked back, “How do You know? You don’t have a vagina!”

Yeah, a little bit of comedy to go with awkward vaginal probing. Thank you, thank you. Tip your waitress.

But none of this was an embarrassing as the time I had to go and get my tampon taken out in the walk in clinic by Santa Claus.

K, whaaaaa?

A few years back, I decided to do the whole switcheroo to tampons because before that point I’d read too embarrassing stories relating to them in teens magazines. But figured there’s obviously a market for them so started using the cotton plugs to do what they do. It’s a pretty straightforward thing I don’t need to get into.

Except that one time I went to ummm, remove the said plug and there was a bit of a problem. Ya see, the string came out. But the tampooni stayed right nice at home in my ladycave. After checking to see that fingers wouldn’t do the trick and damning my small and childlike hands I realized I’d either have to shove tongs up my vadge to get it out or go to a medical professional.

I chose the medical professional.

So off I went to the walk in clinic on a Saturday to wait for two hours. Two hours so that a doctor could come into the room that looked exactly like Santa Claus. White beard, glasses, flushed red cheeks (of course the fact that I was spread eagle with a stuck tampon may have had something to do with that) and a belly that was probably robust from beer not milk and cookies, but yeah. Santa Claus. With a duck. Removing my tampon and remarking how he’d only heard about this thing from other doctors, but I was his first stuck tampon.

Glad to be your first. Charmed, I’m sure.

Ever since then I have been paranoid about checking that damn string first. Because really, theres only so much vaginal probing a woman can take without dinner first.

Coming Attraction Posts

Santa+ A pap smear=awkward Meghan.

200th postiversary + free shit.

Blogger meetup at My Place, BYOB!

Recipe Post:Kraft Dinner and Bagel Pizzas

Blog Forum: Facebook etiquette?

Facebook status updates: The Sequel.

Home renos with duct tape and a staple gun.

What NOT To Do At Your Staff Christmas Party (Hint: Don't tuck the front of your dress into your nylons and then talk to your boss's wife).

Value Village Fashion Blogger.

Mark it in your google readers...

Enough About Me...

lets talk about you for awhile. Is your drink alright? Would you like a top off of your coffee or tea? Take off your jacket and stay awhile. There's shortbread if you'd like....

Anyways, even though it's my blog I'm getting tired of ME talking about ME. nd when you get sick of hearing yourself, that's not a good sign. So tonight I'd thought I'd turn the table, as I have an eclectic mix of commenters/readers lately; new and old and how about we switch it up. Why don't you tell me something about yourself- Who you are? Is there something you want to share here? Something you wouldn't think I'd guess by reading your blog? What's your favourite colour and food? Biggest pet peeve? Biggest hope and fear?

I'm listening.

I Made a List, But Didn't Spellcheck It Twice

Dear Santa,

I know it’s about six weeks away from Christmas still, but I know you’re a busy man so I thought I’d let you have a heads up on this years wish list. Remember, organization (and cheap elf labour) is the key to success.

This year my list isn’t that grand, but I do have a lot of specifics so you’re going to want to check this list twice. And don’t bother asking already cause you know I prefer naughty over nice. But this year I tried hard and short of a grilled cheese night, have been doing good things, so try to keep that in your sight.


This year I want a shiny diamond ring, a nice tennis bracelet or other forms of bling.

A new dvd player, one that doesn’t fall apart. A Super Nintendo complete with accessories to play Duck Hunt and Mario Cart.

If you could pay off my VISA, it would be better than any present you could wrap. I know that would ensure you one visit of sitting on your lap.

Some new boots, a winter jacket, and some skinny hipster jeans. Perhaps from Rich and Royal, so that I can feel just like a queen.

A new bed with headboard, one that doesn’t creak. The neighbours would appreciate the discretion, as a mattress that doesn’t squeak.

Some chocolates, and coffees and gourmet herbal teas, some Starbucks cards and don’t forget chocolate gelato please.

A new Macbook and cell phone, one that I cannot break. Oh and some vegetarian casserole recipes that even I can make.

A sweet pair of yoga pants, straight from Lulu Lemon, with a matching water bottle and yoga pants would be my ideal piece of heaven.

Of course I’m going to save the best for last and I hope you don’t think I’m a prick. But a nice guy, with manners and smarts and at least a six inch…

Love,
Meghan

Scattered

My mind is still scattered so I'm just going to verbally throw up a little of what is in my head.

• Went out Friday night for one of my best friend birthdays and had more fun than I thought I would, but unfortunately an epic night of carousing lead to an epic morning on hangover for the 2nd weekend in two weeks. Saturday was spent eating takeout and napping.
• Unfortunately I'm finding that 1.) due to the fact that I almost never drink anymore I can't handle my alcohol compsumption like in my younger years. Lightweight tendancies, blackout evenings and quesy mornings have overtaken, but I'm not too concerned as I'm thinking it's a sign maybe I should stop drinking so much. I like the taste of alcohol; a glass of wine with a nice meal, beer when watching a good hockey game, ceasars when out at a pub but I hate that the next day is filled with ten times the anxiety than one should have due to the fact that I hate the feeling of being outside of my control and getting drunk is one of those things that does that. Having a drink and getting drunk are two very different things that I am going to start exercising.
• The debt ball is snowballing lately due to tires blowing out, emergency root canal and having my taxes done wrong so owing the gov't 200$. At this point serious adjustments need to happen so I am starting to look for a second job and am debating keeping my car parked through the spring. I refuse to be someone who is going to be drowning in debt and so the choices are: make more money and cut back on expenses and those are the two realistic ones that I can think of.
• I just ate 1200 calories of cheesecake. 1200 calories worth of cheesecake. If this doesn't indicate a dry spell in my life, I don't know what does.
• If my past dating career has shown me anything it's that I'm attracted to sociopath sort of tendancies. No joke. I've been trying to break this habit for the last while. And have been successful in the sense that I'm not currently dating so I'm obviously not dating any sociopaths. But then last night I was watching Dexter and realized I have a total star crush on Dexter. Not the actor who plays him, the character of Dexter. I think this is a step backwards.
• While broke and on a budget I've also decided I need to start decorating my home. Obviously. The first step is new cushions for the couch. One budget friendly step at a time.
• I see there is a new layout for posting on blogger for posts. I like that I can do more things now, but can't seem to find the spellcheck. This is sad for all involved.

And that's about all I have today. Off to coma on the couch and new cushions. Eating half a cheesecake will do that to you.

Blah

I'm super hungover today.
And super lazy. My head is cloudy and unfortunately I've been thinking way too much.
I hate thinking too much.
So this is my crappy post on this crappy day.
Apologies.

TWLOHA

Join the movement

Don't Let the Cuteness Trick You

Bad webcam pic of headbutt time....but you turn your back for one second and...

She's on my dinnerplate, stealin my noms.

You Win, Tai Chi

I hate giving up and am stubborn to a fault. It's why I'll continue with a recipe even after it's destined to fail. Its why I\ll grasp at threads of relationships long after the flame has burned out.

But today, it's official. I'm a quitter.

I started tai chi about six weeks ago, much to the shock of my friends. It's not something I'd normally do, but that just fed the fuel even stronger. I had no idea what tai chi is, but in the Kamloops Info brochure it sounded fun, and like it would be a good branch off of yoga.

And it is a beautiful blend of martial arts, self defense and spirituality. But unfortunately it never really clicked. Don't get me wrong, I'm not opposed to exercise, and love the zen of yoga, but something about this just never really resonated with me. I haven't picked up the moves fast, but because I haven't really wanted to. I'm going to each class with no enthusiasm or spirit and it shows in my movements and moods. I don't leave the class feeling refreshed and recharged, but simply annoyed at the wasted hour. I don't take the pin pointing of my wrong movements as a positive learning experience, like in other classes, but a magnifying glass of how I don't fit in. It's not low self esteem or awkwardness, or even just giving up before trying because week after week I go, with my smile tight and my teeth gritted and do it.

But tonight, I thought about going to tai chi and how being a stat it probably wouldn't be happening tonight and felt a wash of relief and happiness. Happiness that I didn't have to go and do a hobby that I'm paying for! Hobbies are supposed to be challenging, but above that they are supposed to be something you enjoy and in procrastinating before class to accidentally missing it I realized that it's not work the twenty five dollars to push through the next six weeks. And so I quit. Plain and simple. The words taste bitter, but I am an adult and I will not be forced to do what I do not enjoy. So come January, I will be going back to the yoga I know and love and possibly even pick up a dance class, cause I'm willing to try different classes to find the one that does.

So I;m going to pose the question to you, when do you stay with something you don't enjoy because you're getting something out of it, and when do you simply walk away and quit?