Because I'm feeling competitive

I don't personally believe that directional comments are appropriate on a blog because it's really an online diary meant to convince myself that people care what I think. However, I've also always been subject to the whims of others and I think a tacit understanding of online forums is no reason to let that go. To whit, Matt:

1. Ah, sports. Where they throw the ...ball into the hoop and get a touchdown while scissor kicking with the thingy. Go team! Which team? I dunno. Which ones like kittens? Wait, he looks like he loves his mother. And I sort of do like blue better green. Sometimes. I suppose it depends on the shade. Like, I like kelly green more than forest green, but I like both of those way more than olive. Unless it's paired with a nice muted yellow. Do we have any more chips? I'm hungry again. Wait, why are they yelling? Did we get something? A point? Ah screw it I'm just going to go get hammered and watch hockey.

2. If you don't think this is funny, then I have no remedy for whatever ails you. And it just so happens to be the best song of all time.

3. Cashmere lounge pants are exactly what they sound like. Lounge pants made out of luxurious cashmere. I like the concept because it implies both unnecessary luxury and an impressive degree of laziness I regularly exhibit on Saturday mornings. Although now that I've discovered that play Saved by the Bell on Fox at 11 am, I have a raison d'etre again.

4. Wes does not, in fact, cheat in class. He sells his body for better grades. I'm not going to go into specifics, but if our ITOM teacher leers at him anymore while caressing his pocket protector, I'm going to say something.

5. As for the ladies, Wes and I came up with a brilliant scheme just today of how he could effectively pick up whatever teenagers happened to wander through the museum. In the meantime I'll start taking Krav Maga classes or something and give his number to whichever girl kicks my ass first. For that matter, I could probably choose one of the hotties that most recently jacked me in the face in soccer. The opportunities abound in the injury rife existence I lead.

Another classy moment

So the museum I'm interning at has an upcoming permanent exhibit opening this Fall called Your Incredible Body. To prepare for this momentous occasion, I am directed to write an article for the newsletter on the subject, which I naturally know nothing about really. Anyway, it prompted me to leave this gem of a voicemail with the Director of Exhibits:

"Hey there, it's Meg from marketing. I'm trying to pin down this article and sort of realized that I didn't really know what the exhibit was going to look like. I was just curious about who it's sort of directed at, what kind of activities there will be, etc. If you can just call me back, I'd love to get a feel for Your Incredible Body."

*pause*

Sigh.

Conversations with Mom

I suppose I got the inspiration from Leesie (shoutout!), but I can't help but recount a phone call I had with my sainted mother earlier today. If you don't know my mother, she's kind of the Master of Random, which explains a lot about my personality.

phone rings

Mom: "I'm going to see Sex and the City!"
Me: "That movie came out 2 months ago."
Mom: "I don't like to do things quickly."
Me: "Fine, but don't have a diet coke."
Mom: "I'm totally going to have a diet coke."
Me: "You'll stay up all night."
Mom: "I'm hip."
Me: "If you call me at 9 pm looking to go to Martini Park, you can forget it."
Mom: "Martini Park!"
Me: "No, Mom, I'm going out with friends tonight."
Mom: "Well, you have to go somewhere afterwards."
*awkward silence*
Mom: "I'm going to Sex and the City!"

20 minutes later, the phone rings.

Mom: "It's not playing!"
Me: "Shocking."
Mom: "Well, Dillard's is having a clearance or I GUESS I could go see Wall-E."
Me: "It seems like a movie you'd like."
*click*
Me: "Right."

Reeeeeeeeeeebouuuuuuuund

I have this theory. It is the God given right of every woman to have a hot European rebound within 6 months of breaking up with their significant other. I have been mulling this over, in three different countries no less. First of all, sometime in the near future will mark my 4 month singleversary. That leaves a scant 2 months until I have to start acting like an adult and stop trying to have a torrid affair with preferrably a person of Mediterranean descent, but I'd settle for British. Secondly, I have spent about 2-3 weeks surrounded by muscley masogynistic men who want nothing more than for me to embody their perception of a typical American slut. It was not to be, but I managed to a) pick up a Turkish boyfriend for the duration of my friend's wedding and b) have upwards of 5 Greek men stop in their vehicles, back up, and ask me if I need a ride into town on a 10 minute walk. I am so moving to that country.

Like some raging pansy, I never take these people up on their offer, but it doesn't mean that I don't think I deserve it. I think of it as a party favor of sorts. You put up with all of horomonal crap and BMS (Boy Menstrual Syndrome) that comes with dating a perfectly lovely person and in return you get to be massaged with exotic oils by an older man who wants to make you his mistress. Anyway, I imagine most of my conversations for the 8 or so weeks that we'd be together would go something like this:

Friend: "Oh, hey, Meg. How was your summer?"
Me: *removes large and expensive sunglasses* "Era un po lungho ma - oh I'm so sorry. Emilio and I have been speaking exclusively Italian together."
Friend: "It smells like olive oil and sex in here."
Me: "And eggplant."