So awesome

It would be so awesome if I could do eyeliner equally awesomely on both my eyes. Usually one gets it pretty good, and then the other one turns out to be lackluster.

It would be awesome if my hair really were that color. But thanks to Instagram filters, it looks a lovely auburn.

I had another cousin born yesterday! That makes two this year! (Also had a niece born this year. So many lovely babies!)

Utes won their game tonight! Yay!

Now go back to your lives. And I hope my eye photo doesn't creep you out to much and haunt your nightmares.

-Meg

Just me being random and bananas

Today I felt like I could do anything and everything. It's mostly on account of exercising, I think. I lifted weights and rowed and crunched until my body was trembling and I felt that my middle section was going to collapse. This is good.

The snow was also a blessing, and I slid around just a bit and swore just a bit. I grocery shopped and cooked with Sam and homeworked. (Still working on that, actually.)

I wrote, and then thought of something funny to add after the fact. (I do that every time I write something that I think is clever.)

I'm working on not using parenthetical so much. (Sorry).

OK, there was some happy weirdness for ya'll. Just had to get it out into the cyber world, because that is what I do.

-Meg

The blogger crash, my dog, and that one addicting game

I think my blog was left virtually unscathed from the blogger outage!

Years from now, we will reference the Blogger Crash of '11 with a shudder and a wince. We will never forget.

It was pretty awful. My life was boring without anything to stalk and read. And of course, no where to post my random thoughts about the world.

This is my dog, Puck. One day he will learn to behave.

You guys, have you ever played Pocket Frogs? I'm so obsessed. Please, please tell me I'm not the only one! If you haven't, well, I'm not going to explain it to you, because it sounds really dumb. You'll think I'm a weirdo. And I am a weirdo, but I don't want to give the world more evidence of that. If you have played Pocket Frogs, you will know that I am not crazy. I'm just cool. It's a really entertaining app.

-M

Ivy

I've had a little guest in my bathroom for quite some time now.

I don't mind it at all. It's like an indoor plant! But the repairman came and removed the ivy. I'm sad, but if we didn't do something I suppose it would have taken over the whole place.

-Meg

This is getting freaky

This is a cool photo.

Today has been long and full of driving and dealing with jealous cars, elusive keys, and overbearing homework.

I hate it when inanimate objects try to ruin your life.

The biggest so called "inanimate object" that's trying to rule my life is this:

I think there is one in my basement. I can't prove it, but whenever it's dark I seriously can sense its evil presence. What is this thing? It's called a Weeping Angel. From the Wikipedia article about it--

The Weeping Angels are a fictional race of malevolent hunters from the Doctor Who television series, which have been featured in the Tenth Doctor episode, "Blink", and the Eleventh Doctor episodes, "The Time of Angels" and "Flesh and Stone". Created by writer Steven Moffat, they resemble the stone angel statues that can be seen in some Christian cemeteries. When they are not being observed by another sentient being, they can move very quickly and silently, but when they are being observed they become "quantum-locked", occupying a single position in space. In this state, they are frozen and indestructible. They cannot suppress this reaction. If two Weeping Angels were to look at each other at the same time, they would be trapped in stone form forever. To prevent this, they often cover their eyes when freezing - this makes them look like they are weeping.

So if I suddenly disappear, just know that the Angel in my basement probably got me and I'm now living in 1901 or something. I just thought I ought to tell you. I do hope that if the Angel does attack, Brian will save me. Or Dr. Who.

Anyway, I'm off to do some Spanish. Peace.

-M

Roller Coaster of Christmas Cheer!

I've been trying to be a glass-half full kind of person lately... but I honestly have no way to categorize this day. Brian just asked me if it was good or bad, and I was torn about how to respond.

For starters, I woke up at 10:30 a.m. to a phone call from my mom and sister telling me not to eat lunch. Well, considering I hadn't left my bedroom yet, the chances of me fixing something for lunch were pretty slim. Turns out they brought home this:

Oh my heavens, yummy. Like seriously. I just needed that goodness so much!

Considering I had just endured about an hour's worth of torment from littlest sister. She was trying to get me up by flashing my lights and playing loud, upbeat music like Owl City. Does she not realize I have a sleep mask and that I'm one of the heaviest sleepers on the planet?

Anyway, after mulling around a bit, we went horseback riding, which was pleasant because we were inside the arena, not out in the muck and mud. It's raining and it's almost Christmas. I'm a bit panicked. I really rely on snow to bring Christmas cheer.

Because let me tell you--there are a few things that do not bring Christmas cheer. I realized about half-way through my day that I was wearing my shirt backwards. At first I took it as a good omen. DUH! I need to be wearing my Utah shirt! Today was game day!

The right way.

After tearing apart my suitcase, I realized that I forgot to bring any sort of Ute apparel! Dismay began filling my soul. That dismay turned from a trickle to a flood of sorrow as my dear Utes took (several) blows from Boise and lost... the... game... and ended ... the bowl... streak...

Ya...

But the Jazz won! (As they should have).

-M

p.s. I think that the real reason the Utes lost is because I accidently wore blue underwear. No. I'm not posting a picture of that. Sorry.

Oh, and another thing to add to the naughty list? My computer crashed and I lost half a poem + other projects in unsaved documents in word.

I'm Tired, Crazy, and I think I hate Facebook.

Who needs hemp of caffeine to get creative? Sleep deprivation works fantastically. My eye is twitching, as it often does-- and this is not because I am a witch (my Hogwarts letter never came, but I PROMISE I'm no longer bitter). No, I'm just mightily tired. When you add up the total hours of unconsciousness, I'm actually not doing too shabby. I get sleeping around 1 a.m. and rise at 8-ish or 7-ish.So that's 6-7 hours, right? Not ideal, but better than those nights where I got 2-3.

Anyway, There was a point to all this. I just forgot what it was.

...

Oh yes! Facebook! Facebook: I hate you. I despise that I cannot cast you off so easily as I would like. Once I saw this Nova documentary about these African women who wear these thick stacks of coil around their necks all the time. Eventually the neck coils supported their neck, so if they took them off, their spines would collapse. So they were totally dependent on these metal neck rings to survive. The crazy part is that their necks were so long and stretched out!

Anyway, that's akin to how I'm addicted to Facebook. Perhaps my relationship with Facebook is more analogous to an abusive husband or a drug or caffeine -- a substance that has been endlessly on my mind as of late. My body thinks it necessary to stay awake. But I haven't caved! (Yet).

I would get so much more sleep if I could just stay off Facebook. I always think it will make me happy, but it never does! I (kind of) like reading about people's lives and stalking people. I kinda like knowing that all my friends are just like me... chained to a computer. Like a drug.

-Megan

P. S. I wrote this last night. I mean this morning. You know, it was like 1 a.m. (Can't you just count it as the same day as long as you haven't gone to sleep yet?) Oh, and I don't think that's an African woman. Sorry. I think she's Asian... I don't know. All I know is that that documentary scarred me for life.

Mundane Megan

Humm diddly dum.

My schedule is settling into a happy rhythm. I work well when I have structure.

So nothing much to exciting has occurred in my existence. I suppose that a good blogger is one creative enough to make even the little things exciting. I need to work on that aspect.

Usually I don't blog unless I have something to blog about, but today is an exception. Now this is horribly rambled and jumbled because I'm trying to figure out what I'm trying to say as I'm trying to say it. But my blogging creed is to never look back and just write what comes out of my head.

My Paul-withdrawals are improving! This is good news. I don't know why the past few days have been filled with Paul-sickness, but they have. Luckily that has receded, and I'm doing much better. Being busy helps significantly. I feel so lame for missing him. I'm not even technically waiting for him, but I can hardly help it. He's my best friend!

Okay, this blog post is going no where. I'm disgusted with my self! Such mediocre prose does not deserve to be thrown into cyberspace!

Oh well. Some days are just like that. Granted, this isn't a bad day. It's just a mediocre day. But on the bright side, it isn't even a Monday! It's Tuesday! I'm that much closer to the weekend! (Ward activity, FB game... this is going to be awesome.)

-Megan

Too Much Thinking

It's only 8:20 p.m. and it feels like a late-night post.

Already I've run 10 miles this week and I'm exhausted. My head hurts and I feel achy, but that's okay. I have been by myself all day and that is nice. The Importance of Being Earnest. Frankenstein. Light in the Piazza.

A long nap.

Ramen Noodles with an egg.

Chocolate cake.

I have new running shoes, and I really need a letter right now. Saturday I'll get one, I'm pretty sure. I always get nervous when I know one is on the way. I never know exactly what he's going to say. I know he'll probably talk about how much he loves God and how much his testimony has grown-- just like every missionary does whether he means to or not. Then he'll tell me about Fijian, and then he'll sign his name. The last two letters have been that way. But it's a letter all the same.

There are a thousand poems in my head, and not one will fall enough for me to catch it and make it beautiful.

Today is a day when I miss Elder Hill so much. When I was in Provo we drove past the MTC, but I had to tell myself that he wasn't there, that he was already in Fiji, because knowing he was right there but that I cannot see him is too much for me, and I'm trying not to be too attached and I'm trying not to talk about him so much. If I don't think about him, then it won't hurt so much, but then what about when he comes home? What will that be like? I'm so worried about something that will happen in such a long time, and here I go rambling about things that don't matter and that I cannot do anything about!

Too much thinking is not advisable. It is not good for one's health. Sorry about that rant. I really need to stop.

-Megan

Let's see, what else...

Today I started training, if you can call it that. A measly 1.5 miles today. And it took me 15 minutes! Lame! I used to be able to run a 6 minute mile. What happened? I'm not fatter-- well okay, I'm 7 pounds heavier-- but still!

Tomorrow I think I'm going to lift some weights at the field house.

Oh dear, I'm sorry. That was terribly boring. No one wants to hear my workout schedule! I honestly just don't know what to blog about, but I want to blog because I don't want to do my homework.

Nothing exciting has really happened... no letter (dangit, I was NOT going to mention him in this post!) Actually, I did get a letter! I take that back! From one of my wardies. I got a letter from him. He's serving in Alaska right now.

I got to see my family last night, they're so cool. I love them!

My friend Katie got ENGAGED!

Let's see, what else...

Okay, since there is nothing else, I'm just going to end this torture. I'm going to eat and then go to FHE. See ya.

-Megan

Exclamation Points, Eating, and a short list of utterances

Yay! Another really late post! Hold on to your hats! Let's hope that this is semi-good (let's face it, the last couple of posts have been LAME!)

Now that I've overused my exclamation points, we can move along to the rest of my rant.

I'm so so tired. (Duh). It is so hot. I can't believe I complained about the cold just a few weeks ago! (Crap, I just used another exclamation point.) I am blaming the heat for the reason why I cannot sleep. The heat is keeping me up, that and my homework, which isn't due until Monday, but I have a feeling I will have absolutely no desire to do it tomorrow, because tomorrow is Mr. Hill's farewell. The fact that tomorrow is his farewell and that in a just 3 days he will be embarking on a long journey to an island 6,000 miles away is NOT why I'm still awake. Because I wouldn't whine about that on my blog. How cliche would that be?

Another reason I'm still awake and it's almost 1 a.m.: I think I've had like MAYBE 700 calories today. And like half of those were from a serving of Alfredo noodles. Alfredo is my weakness! I know it is one of THE most unhealthy dishes one could eat, but I always get it! (Well, actually my mommy made it for dinner, so I didn't have a choice.) But I actually didn't feel as guilty as I normally would. I had a toaster strudel this morning and a slice of left over frozen pizza for lunch. So I was so happy when I drove all the way home from work and mom had saved me food from dinner! But even with a normal dinner, I'm still out of whack from not eating. I love eating, I just don't ever have time to eat.

Wow, that was an pathetically long paragraph about food. I'm sorry, I know it is so impolite and boring to write about food! And I'm feeling nauseated anyway, so writing about vittles was an extremely poor decision... oh well! (And there I go again with the exclamation points!)

Maybe I should only write blog posts in the wee hours of the morning. The floodgates of my creativity are so weakened by sleep deprivation that they break open all the thoughts I would keep to myself while in a rational state.

I am really going to go to sleep soon, but I have to say one more utterance! (Okay, maybe more like 3 or 4.)

1. I saw TOY STORY 3. I loved it (I mean, is there any other way to feel about that movie?) I could really hype up this show, but it really stands alone. Just see it, and if you cry, that's okay, because I cried too.

2. I love my daddy. Happy father's day dad! I suppose I should make a Dad blog post just like I did for mother's day. Well... I will ... I guess. But I just get the feeling my pops aren't as sentimental about that kind of thing. I'll still do it though.

3. There are a total of 12 exclamation points in this post alone! Not okay! (13) Using exclamation points is like laughing at your own jokes. (Name that movie!) (14). Sometimes they are necessary, I think, especially in texting and such, because how else can you convey an excited and engaged tone? This is an endless puzzlement for me.

4. Speaking of puzzles... well, I'm not going to say anything about that. Mr. Hill does not read this blog, but YOU NEVER KNOW!

5. Speaking of Mr. Hill, after tomorrow he shall be called ELDER HILL. Although I've decided that when I get letters from him, they shall be called "Epistle of Paul." Because that's just cool.

14 exclamation points later and WAY TOO MANY CAPITALIZED WORDS, I end this tremendous blog post, which exhibits the extreme insanity of me. If you have read until the end, I commend you (as I often do). You are a brave soul.

-just little old me(g)

The Way Things Should Be

Nothing is the way it should be.

Well, maybe things are the way they should be, they just aren't the way I think they should be. I'm just wrong about the way things should be.

So maybe I should just stop trying to make things happen the way I think they're supposed and just let them happen the way they're supposed to happen.

"Just because everything's changing, doesn't mean it's never been this way before."

-Regina Specktor, "The Call"

I really am at peace right now. Everything is crazy and changing and wild, but it's okay. Things are just shifting to the way they should be.

-Megan

Eye'm out of Words

I know I've used up too many words today, because I'm trying to write something here, and it just isn't working. I think I only have so many words every day. I use them to read, write, and talk and think. I've done enough of all those things today.
Since I don't know what else to say, I'm going to close this lame blog post. Maybe I shouldn't have written one at all. Oh well-- the picture's nice, right?

My eyes are so weary. Too much thinking. Eyes do a lot of thinking.

-Megan

Missings

I was going to write a post about an incident I had today, but then I got the distinct impression that I should not. So I did not.

Mr. Hill is home. Or Elder Hill? I don't know what to call him these days. Maybe just Paul for now.

He was so jet lagged that he fell asleep while talking to me on the phone. It didn't help that he was still under the influence of his sleeping pill, which he took to help him on the long flight home. But from what I could gather from his slurred speech-- he had a great time in Israel. Next he has his mission... 23 days left. Okay, I just got a little nauseated when I thought of that.

Paul is my best friend. I can't believe that he's actually growing up and moving on.

I really don't want to be one of those girls who whines and moans as she counts down the seconds until her missionary comes home. But now that I'm almost-kinda-but not really- in that position, I almost understand why. Do not worry, I won't turn this blog until a bawl fest. Some times I just need to get it out there! I am going to miss him!

Anyway, I'm tired. I'm excited for Memorial Day! Mmmm BBQ with the family down the street!

Good night.

-just little old Me(g)

New Look, Old Story

Holy Whoa has a new look!

I am not completely satisfied with it yet. I don't know if I just have to get used to it, or what. I always feel bad about changing it, as if my readers will show up and not recognize it and leave or something... but that's not really true.

Why is the blog called Holy Whoa? You might wonder. Wondering is good. But I'll tell you.

One day it just fell out of my mouth! And the phrase of excitement and wonder stuck! I have not been saying it recently, but I need to get back into the habit, because I love that phrase.

-Megan

p.s. Today was a good day, even though it had no right to be. I believe in these kinds of days.

Easy Cheese

"Where you the one eating Easy Cheese at break?"

"Um, ya, why?"

"Wow, that is really interesting. I didn't know people actually ate that stuff, because the only person I've ever seen eat that is my dog."

Comforting.

1 a.m.

I am going crazy.

It is 1 a.m., my new favorite hour of the day.

I usually get tired around this time a night, but because this is the third night in a row that I have stayed up this late, I am no longer fazed.

I have no sanity left. I didn't have much to begin with, anyway.

My filter is gone, so I'm sure I've offended Mr. Hill and several roommates and/or coworkers.

I have abandoned all attempts at eating healthy or excersizing. I cannot spell excersizing, and my spell check doesn't understand what I mean. I mean working out!

There is a wind storm. I hate wind. I can't sleep when wind is howling. So I might as well be working on my homework. Except I'm not working on my homework. I am writing a blog post and keeping my roommate awake. Nah, she can sleep through anything. (At least I hope).

If I had better judgement, I would do a ctrl a --> ctrl x [In other words, I would delete this]. But nope. I'm going to post it. And you're going to get a sense of how burnt out Megan is.

Loves.

-Megan

A paper just isn't a paper without an all-nighter and a rant

It's only 11:45 p.m. and my paper is done. Done is a relative term though. I am turning it in only to get it hashed apart by my professor. I don't mind the hashing part, I do it to other people all the time.

I'm just weirded out by this "Done by midnight" thing. I mean, I did stay up really last last night and the night before that. I did skip one of my classes today (I feel so guilty!). I did my best not to procrastinate, so I should not have to suffer through an all-nighter.

A paper just isn't a paper without an all-nighter!

When I say paper, I really mean like 5 papers.

I feel like this paper is taking over my life. I kind of asked for it by taking writing classes, but I'm getting bitter. It's like all I can talk about, which I'm sure gets annoying for all I converse with. I probably sound like I'm making myself a martyr and that I'm over exaggerating. Well I am, and I'm annoying myself. I talk to somebody, and they're like "How are you?" and somehow my answer turns into a HUGE rant and I'm suddenly going into detail about my thesis and how it relates to the great questions of the world and how this paper is taking over my life! And now the paper is taking over the blog post. But I'm trying to get it all out here so the people in my world can stop hearing about my misery and agony over my paper.

My papers and their topics: (Because you really want to know)

Bilingual education

The passive and active voice

How modern human beings came into exist (starting with Miocene apes)

Different cultures coming together in peoples' memoirs (This is uber vague, still trying to figure out what he wants)

Haitian Americans

Suddenly my photography project seems so nice! No writing! Just a creative explosion of no-explanation!

I am going to bed after I print out my paper. The printer is not going to work because that is how printers work: they don't. Especially not at 12 am.

If you have made it to the end of this grotesque post, I commend your brave spirit and valiant heart. I just needed to write crap that wasn't for school. Good night!

-Just little old me(g)

The Flight

The last Monday before Spring Break.

Productivity level: 0

I have a few papers on the horizon, but my will to do them has shriveled up and died. I'm also speaking in church next Sunday. So now I'm writing a talk which is kind of like a paper, but for God.

My phone charger is MIA. That means my phone is in an induced coma at the moment. There is only enough juice for an emergency-- maybe. I like the freedom, sort of, except I have to do my visiting teaching and getting that set up without a phone is rather difficult. I am a master at alternate forms of communication (AKA the world wide web), but still. That feels very unprofessional.

I said my productivity level was zero, but that isn't quite true. I've been writing some really great poetry. It is different than what I've written before, and I don't know where it comes from. Then again, I don't know where poetry ever comes from. You want to read some of it? Okay. Here's an excerpt.

The Flight

After a thousand tired stabs

We finally sliced into the heaving ochre sky

Into the breast of the unknown

Our breath abandoned on the soil

We gave the clouds their first sliver

From the trees of the earth

And, later, the ore of the earth

Which became the blood of the sky

Understand that it's only an excerpt because the rest of the poem isn't written yet. Thank you for putting up with this extremely random post.

With adoration,

-Meg

"Don't mind me, I was just..."

I hear someone's breath in my ear. I try to keep reading, but I cannot avoid the sensation that someone is looking over my shoulder.

That's one of my pet peeves, and so I can tell within seconds if someone snatches even so much of a glance over my shoulder.

I take a change and look up at who might be reading my anthropology textbook. A young man with blonde hair is looking over the seat behind me.

"Hi," he says, "Don't mind me, I was just reading..."

I expect him to finish "...over your shoulder." But he doesn't. That makes me really nervous. Why would he want to read my book about genes anyway?

That goes on for a few minutes, because obviously to this guy there is nothing at all weird about reading over a random stranger's shoulder. Finally I can't take it--and no reading is getting done anyway--so I close my book and call my mom.

The same guy makes conversation with a man across the aisle about Dr. Pepper. "That would make good rocket fuel." (?) he says. The older man takes a swig and says, "It makes a great thirst quencher."

I was happy that this talkative character got off at the first stop.

-Meg