Party in the Vet's Office

I am literally obsessed with my daugher, Bella. I've always loved dogs but I had no idea how much joy she would bring to my life. I also was not aware how crazy I could get about a pet. I already know that I'm going to be a psycho mom because I get separation anxiety from Bella when I'm at work. Don't judge me. I also threw her a first birthday party last March, complete with a doggie cake, "My 1st Birthday" napkins and doggie party hats for all of her friends. Don't judge that, either. I am very protective over her and as this blog evolves, Bella stories I'm sure will become more frequent. I love Bella to death, even though she can be a real asshole sometimes, which brings me to yet another embarrassing story.

Bella is a rescue from the Atlanta Humane Society. I don't know anything about her life before me, but I do know that it took a while for her to be comfortable around other dogs and she definitely has some "quirks" to her. Example, she hates when things are out of place or on the floor. I once left laundry detergent on the stairs and I thought she was going to have an anxiety attack. She doesn't like change at all, she must get that from me. She doesn't like for people to wear hoods and she scares easily.

As most dogs, Bella doesn't love the vet. I take her there to get her nails trimmed because I'm too scared to do it myself and it's such a quick process when I take her to her doctor. It was a normal Saturday, we were out running errands and getting her nails trimmed was on the top of the list. The vet was packed this particular Saturday, and not knowing what other dogs would greet us upon entering, I decided it would be safer to carry her in like I usually do if I feel like a situation could potentially be disastrous. I noticed Bella felt a little heavier than normal, not taking into consideration her grandmother feeds her Burger King when she watches her.

It wasn't until we got inside that I realized she was a little too heavy for me. It was too late at that point to just put her down because now we were around other dogs and she pretty much freaked out. She climbed over my shoulders clawing her way around my body, and managing to knock my sunglasses off. Two people waiting with their dogs jumped up and asked me if they could help, but having too much pride, I declined. This is my daughter, I know how to handle her! I didn't need help.. As we are in the middle of this awkward dance-like move in the middle of the lobby while fellow pet owners are looking at us, not knowing what to do, two things happened. 1), I realized I didn't know how to get myself out of this position I was currently in and couldn't move because I have 45lbs halfway down my back and 2), Bella made her final move. She had just been draped over my shoulder not really moving because I don't think she knew what to do, either. I guess she figured it was do or die and wanted to make a jump for it, using her hind legs for momentum. While displaying this move, she managed to push my entire tank top and bra down. In front of everyone. I couldn't even correct the problem because I still had my hands full. As if the claw mark running diagonally across my chest wasn't enough, she managed to turn a nail-trim appointment into a Girls Gone Wild video. One of the vet technicians ran around the corner and grabbed her, as I gracefully put my sunglasses back on and said I would return to get her in 20 minutes. After I picked her up, we had a long talk about her behavior and we had to steer clear of that vet for several months. I was way too embarrassed to take her back again with that fresh on every one's mind. Even if I did get a discount.

Gravity

I wouldn't exactly call myself clumsy, but I do happen to trip/fall fairly often. Luckily, most of it is done in the privacy of my own home with only Bella to witness. The other times, I seem to trip mostly on dates. How fortunate. Falling down is the most embarrassing/hysterical thing ever. It's impossible to not laugh at someone falling down. I'm laughing now just thinking about it. Which is probably why I fall down all the time. Karma is a real asshole.

I remember meeting my high school boyfriend's family for the first time. Of course I was a little nervous, you never know what to expect when you first meet parents. Everything seemed to go well until it was time for me to go home and I fell down the outside stairs. To make matters worse, it had been raining so my jeans got soaked and dirty. At least I was on my way out so I could go straight to my car and deal with my humiliation. It really wasn't my fault though, who has a brick missing from their front stoop and doesn't replace it??

The first time I went out out with another boyfriend and his friends I bit it even worse. We had gone out for his birthday to Shout and I was making a conscience effort to leave a good impression with his friends the whole night. Mission accomplished. Until... we were leaving and walking to get a cab and I fell so hard. If you've ever been to Shout, you know that after leaving the restaurant, there aren't any weird stairs or possible trip hazards. I'm not really sure what happened. I know that there were a lot of people sitting outside on the benches that definitely didn't try to contain their laughter and my date did the "are you OK?" which is the worst because it's an "I'm concerned you might be hurt, so I'm trying not laugh"/ "if you aren't hurt I want to laugh so hard but don't want to hurt your feelings" tone. I got up in ninja speed but it was still pretty bad, I scraped my hand on the concrete and had imprints from those tiny little rocks that come out of nowhere on my palms and knees. Like a real first-grader. It's definitely safe to say I lost some cool points there.

One time while walking through the parking lot to Wild Bills (and trying to be extra cute) with one of my girlfriends I fell off the side of one of my wedge shoes and hit the ground super hard. I was able to laugh it off while my friend was hysterical, not noticing the blood dripping down my leg until some guy was like, "uh, are you OK?" while pointing to my knee. I just had to wear shorts that night.

On one of my more recent birthdays (the age isn't important) while dancing on a stage at CosmoLava I slipped on a lemon peel and fell. You didn't read that wrong, I slipped on a lemon peel. I think that one was alcohol related, and I don't remember being in pain but nevertheless, it still happened.

In middle school, I ran into a glass door at Space Camp. As if being at Space Camp isn't bad enough (so to C, I'm sorry I laughed at you for walking into the glass door at your grandmothers, I clearly blocked out a similar experience and mine was worse).

After leaving a packed Hawks game at Philips Arena with my friend Tiana some years ago I fell outside in front of everyone. I feel like I deserved that one because I was wearing ridiculously high heels and my attire was not what one would normally wear to a sporting event. In other words, I was that girl.

I trip up the stairs all the time. Thankfully, no one ever sees those misfortunes. I usually get pissed before laughing at myself, though. I'll say a few expletives, possibly hit/kick something nearby in a rage and then laugh at myself for 1), falling and 2), having such a fit of rage/freak out. The other day I was walking downstairs and somehow my heel got caught on one of the stairs causing my body to continue moving downstairs while my feet were firmly planted. I was able to catch myself before face planting but would have been livid if I broke my shoe and/or face.

I don't think it's possible to ever fall down and not be embarrassed. Although I have mastered the art of "laughing it off" even if the tears are really from physical pain.

When Facebook Stalking Goes Wrong

My name is Megan, and I am a Facebook stalker.


"Stalking" is such an extreme word. I prefer to look at is as being curious or simply staying informed. Look, we all do it (don't we?). We've all been on some one's Facebook page and either out of boredom, curiosity, jealousy or maybe even anger ended up on some one else's page. Sometimes someone so random that you don't even remember how you ended up on their page because you got carried away and kept clicking on person after person (but even then, you now know their life story). I feel obliged to tell you how stalking, er, being curious can get you into trouble if you aren't cautious. Don't make the following mistakes like I have, you can't always recover.

Rule #1: Be careful when searching for specific people. I have, more than once, accidentally typed the name of a person I was searching into my STATUS. Obviously, I don't need to go into detail of the embarrassment that comes along with this. You're pretty much caught at this point unless you have ninja-like reflexes and catch it almost immediately after posting. The good news is, with Facebook changing so often, I believe it has become more difficult to make this mistake. Take caution using mobile applications.

Rule #2: Keep your mouth shut. We often find out so much useful information via Facebook by people so kindly telling every detail of their life but this is not information that can be repeated. I have slipped up repeatedly mentioning things that I should not ever know because I was "learning" about someone. Believe me, when you hear, "hey, how did you know that?" there is only so much you can say without coming clean. Hint, usually "you told me the other day..." works, but you have to say it with an offended tone to make the person feel bad for forgetting a conversation that never really took place.

Rule #3: Keep emotions out of it. This also ties into keeping your mouth shut. You might find something that upsets you. The only time you can confront this is if it is actually a boyfriend/girlfriend, family member or good friend. Or basically anyone that you would actually have a right to stalk or that wouldn't think you're a nut job.

Rule #4: Don't get obsessed. Once you see how much you can find out about a person, it's hard to stay away. I once went a tad crazy by looking through some one's pictures (someone that I am not friends with in real life or on Facebook) and I was paying more attention to the background of the pictures because I just knew I was going to catch something (or rather someone) in the background of these club pictures and I did. I was certain I saw his eyebrow in the corner of a cropped picture. I am aware how crazy that sounds. To make matters worse, I confronted him about it and that was a real fun story to tell about how I knew he was there. By the way, totally wasn't his eyebrow in the picture. Whoopsies.

Rule #5: Be careful while on the page you are "curious" about. I have accidentally "liked" a person's status or picture more than once. Although "unliking" is an easy function, remember, they might still get a notification. There's no recovering from that.

Please note, I do not limit myself to Facebook. I also know my way around a Twitter account. Helpful hint, I once learned the hard way that while looking at some one's Twitpics, it definitely showed the "viewers" and their pictures. Which led to me deleting my avatar and changing my Twitter name briefly. Damage control.

Mark Zuckerberg is an evil genius. Don't judge me just because I'm willing to admit what we all do, just learn from me. Happy stalking!

Say It, Don't Spray It

Dating pretty much sucks. First dates are always so awkward, you're either trying to impress who you're with without seeming like you're trying to impress them, or you're trying to be polite but also make sure you don't make any misleading moves or comments because you're really just counting down until it's over while simultaneously coming up with creative ways to dodge their calls, texts, Facebook comments, Twitter replies, etc.

As if first dates aren't uncomfortable enough, add in there a bad first date. Where you're thinking in your head, "why the hell did I agree to this?" or "who is responsible for this disaster?" or "oh, this guy's a real asshole" or my favorite, "Yeah, I'm gonna have to get wasted to deal with this."

I went on a date with this guy (we'll call him... Lame). It was terrible. We had been talking for weeks prior to the actual date and based on the conversations we had (mostly via text) there were several signs he was in fact, a tool. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt (I don't recommend) so I agree to go out with him.

He picks me up, I can't tell if he's drunk already or just obnoxious. He would ask me questions and then when I would start to answer he would cut me off and continue with his own opinion of his own question and stress to me how "real he is." After about an hour of that, that's when I realized I was going to need several drinks if this was how the night was going to progress.

The ride to our date spot wasn't terrible as there was no smalltalk, just him singing the wrong lyrics and trying to play it off to a combination of Drake and Top 40 hits. We end up going to a bar in Brookhaven, and immediately ordered drinks upon arrival. It was at this point I realized that this guy is a close talker (close talkers are real assholes). I kept trying to back away but I was limited as to how far I could get and it just made him lean in further. Not only was he totally invading my personal space, he was spitting while talking! I kept having to discreetly wipe the side of my face and transfer his spit to my bar napkin and pants. I stopped being so discreet once he became more frequent. There was even an incident where a spray went in to my eye and caused me to flinch and pull out my compact. Did Lame notice? No. It got to the point that I had to cover my glass with my hand and drape my hair over my face to avoid saliva in or around my drink/skin. I'm socially awkward so, not knowing how to handle this occurrence, I keep drinking. Lame excuses himself to the restroom and the bartender looks at me and says, "Don't worry, you'll get through it." I'm pretty sure that's how you know it's a bad night!

I'm pretty much texting everyone I know because I can't believe I have gotten myself in such a situation again, while also realizing that I can't leave this guy because he drove. So I did what any mature person would do. I faked a family emergency and said my sister (who lives in Kentucky) was on her way to get me and that I had to leave right then and I would explain later. Really my ex-boyfriend picked me up and took me home which was interesting enough in itself.

Moral of the story, getting spit on isn't cool and dating is stressful.

You Might Be An Asshole If....

Similar to "things I don't trust", some people just do things that make them real assholes.

1.Crocs
I don't care how comfortable they are, have you seen them? Fellas, the heels we wear aren't ever comfortable, that's not what footwear is for and you'd hate it if we only dressed for comfort. Women, I don't even know what to say if you're a woman wearing Crocs. Your choice of shoe says a lot about you and if you wear Crocs, no matter what the occasion, you're a real asshole.

2. Skele-toes
Ok, I didn't think things could get worse than Crocs, but skeletoes?? Again, I don't care how comfortable, some things just shouldn't be worn. Unless you are part of an undercover primate study in a zoo, never, EVER wear these. Or, you're a real asshole.

3. Putting kids on leashes
Comedian Katt Williams so delicately brought it to every one's attention that white people are the main demographic to put their children on leashes. Children are not dogs and that little monkey or turtle backpack isn't fooling anyone. Stop putting your kids on leashes and provide home training! Or, just be an asshole.

4. Antlers on Cars
This might be the one of the worst asshole offenses. Putting antlers and/or a red nose on your car does not make you seem in the Christmas spirit. It makes you seem like an asshole. Your car doesn't look like a reindeer and I don't care how much your kids like it.









5. Letting your kid(s) run wild in public
Kids need home training. If they don't have any, it is a reflection on you, parents. I don't know if I could even blog about how many incidents I've had with bad kids. I have been kicked in the shin and pushed by a real asshole of a kid (who I pushed down in retaliation and told him he better not tell his mom), I even got into a verbal altercation in a Charlotte Russe once because a lady felt entitled to leave the line to chase her terrible kid around and come right back where she was. Parents, control your children in public or you're a real asshole.

6. Looking for an apartment in the rain
I have worked in property management for years now. I've seen it all. Unless you are needing a place to live within 24 hours, you need to be mindful of the elements. Do not force me out in a monsoon because you want to look at an apartment, and if you do, you better apply for it. I will mentally be shooting death daggers at you if you make me get out in bad weather. I don't ever wear flats so if you have me out in the rain/snow/etc in heels, you're a real asshole.

7. Signaling in a parking lot
I don't need you to put your blinker on while you're driving down every aisle. Just drive, don't be an asshole.

8. Not signaling
Drivers do not have any sort of common courtesy. Use your blinker (not applicable in parking lots)! I should never have to slam on breaks unless I'm texting and driving (just kidding.. kind of). Give me the chance to move around you when you're turning, don't be an asshole.

9. People who talk a lot and repeat themselves
I talk with a lot of people on a regular basis at work. Most of these people are residents who have issues in their apartment. Listen carefully, if you call your leasing/resident services office to make a complaint, we get it the first time. You saying the same thing but just using different words is just as annoying. Note your issue, then go on about your day. Don't be an asshole and keep me on the phone for 15 minutes.

10. Tribal tattoos.
I mean, really. If you have a tribal tattoo, you're an asshole.



11. Justin Bieber
What an asshole.







**Special thanks to my brother in law Steve, for giving me this idea and helping me remember all the assholes I encounter**

Winning

The Wilbourn's are known for being extremely stubborn, competitive, obnoxious and sore losers. Example, my mom refuses to be on my team during any game because she says I stress her out and tells everyone, "Megan spells fun W-I-N." Let's be real, who enjoys losing?

I come by my competitive nature honestly. This level of unhealthy competitiveness comes straight from my dad. During family games of Monopoly my dad would always say "cha-ching" EVERY time he got money and my sister would freak out and threaten to never play with him again if he kept saying it and when he would beat us she would tell him he was supposed to let kids win at least sometimes and then pout the rest of the night. When I was around 7, my dad taught me to play checkers. He was awesome at playing. Except for the fact he had a chant every time he got a king. "Here he comes to save the daaaaayyyyyy, mighty dad is on his waaayyyy." Every. Time. I could feel fury rising every time that happened, even at such a young age. He never let me win in checkers. Most people would let a small child win, not in this family. I remember the first time I beat him. I did the same chant to him and he was furious. He tried to act like it didn't bother him, but I vowed never to beat him in checkers again. I was actually a little scared. (If anyone wants to take me on, I'm undefeated and that also applies to foos-ball. Just sayin'). Another time growing up, I think I was around 7, I told my dad I could beat him in a race. We debated as he was telling me that I couldn't beat him. So, he did what any reasonable parent would do, he suggested we take it outside and race. He beat me. And rubbed it in. A grown man beat his daughter in a race in the backyard and then boasted about it! Don't even get me started on the time my dad and uncles were playing horseshoes in the backyard and my dad was so focused on winning that he didn't even notice his own nephew running around and totally hit little Michael in the head and had to be sent to the emergency room (my dad won the game).

My sister and I are the same, we get really pissed if we lose or if we are wrong. Which is rare, of course. I don't know why I didn't assume my cousin would be the same exact way, until I made the mistake of playing Words With Friends with him. We played a few games, which I'm 90% positive he was cheating the majority of the game, and didn't hold back on obnoxiously texting me about the awesome words he just played, but I still came out victorious in the end. Then he didn't ever accept my invite to a new game. I was really confused as to why he wasn't playing me anymore and he wasn't responding to any of my text messages. Was he OK? Should I be worried? Definitely not, considering he went to my sister and her husband and proceeded to tell them that he won't play with me anymore because "I cheat" and I "hoard my S's until the end of the game." Things really haven't been the same since then.

The scary thing is that my niece, who is 3, has definitely inherited the Wilbourn competitiveness gene. The other night she was told she lost the quiet game and had a full blown crying, screaming meltdown and told my sister they had to play again. Only to tell her she lost when she started reading her bedtime story.

My competitiveness has always been a problem. During middle school Olympics, my best friend and I were on different countries, my country happened to win and my friend was pretty much in hysterics. Of course I didn't take the high road, I was as obnoxious as ever. And that led to us getting in a "slap-fight." I'm pretty sure middle school Olympics should never be that serious. I forewarn people how competitive I am, but because everyone believes they are competitive, the severity is never understood. It's something you have to witness, and I try not to put myself in those situations unless I'm past the point of making a good impression. I've made mistakes of playing games on dates or watching sporting events and I've definitely thrown air hockey paddles out of frustration and gotten a little too aggressive in friendly games of Dave & Buster's basketball (which I don't even play, ever). Needless to say, I never heard back from those guys... so weird.

So, any one up for a friendly game of checkers? Foos Ball? Spades? Catch Phrase?

**Recent convo from my cousin in reference to playing Words With Friends with his WIFE.**

Trust Issues

TRUST
noun
\1. reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety, etc., of a person or thing; confidence

I like to think I am a fairly trustworthy person, sometimes even to a fault. However, there are some things in life that I do not fully trust. The list continues to grow but here is a start.

1. Morning People
I just don't understand how someone can open their eyes and have so much energy and enthusiasm right when they wake up. It's unnatural. I can't even have conversations with the general public until about 10-11am. My dad was a morning person and my mom is the worst morning person. She is always finished with her errands by like 9:30am on the weekend. Who does that?? Don't trust it.

2. People that smile all the time
No one is happy ALL the time. No one. Yet there are people that actually walk around with a permanent grin glued on their face. Your life isn't perfect, you're not that optimistic. Don't trust it.

3. People that laugh all the time
You know the ones. The people who do that weird, awkward laugh after each sentence. Even sentences that aren't meant to be funny. It makes me uncomfortable and think you could potentially be a serial killer. Don't trust it.

4. People who don't like dogs
What kind of a person doesn't like dogs?? You either have to be a real asshole or have no soul to not love a dog. Obviously, I get a little angry at the topic. You don't like dogs? I don't trust it.

5. Things that jump
Things that jump are unpredictable. Spiders, frogs, cats, grasshoppers, crickets, fish. This is part of the reason I have a phobia of crickets. When it comes to things that jump, you never know what their intentions are or where they're going to end up. They always give you that scary eye contact and just when you think you've calculated their next move, they surprise you. Don't trust it.

6. Redheads
Self explanatory. I've never met a trustworthy ginger.

7. Most GA fans
I'm a Gator, I don't understand how you could root for the "bulldawgs". They don't even spell dog right! Even though our season wasn't the best, I could never fathom being a GA fan. Don't trust it.

8. Geminis
I had a terrible experience with a Gemini in the past, so for that reason alone and the fact they are known to be two-faced, don't trust it.

9. People that don't have an iPhone
Simply because I feel like, if you don't have an iPhone, you clearly don't care about your future. Don't trust it.

10. Squirrels
These little devils are the epitome of untrustworthy. With there little hands and swift movements. Let's face it, they're a little too bold, too. They are constantly causing car accidents and could be considered a trip hazard. Don't trust it.

I'm sure I will be adding to this list because there are so many skeptical things in this world. And I don't trust it.

**UPDATE** I exclude my sister from being included in the "untrustworthy Gemini" category due to a strongly worded text I just received. My sister is the best Gemini ever, unless she was a redhead, too. Then she'd have no chance at life.

Megan In The Kitchen

This is going to come as a shock, but, I am flawed. I can not cook. The best thing I can make without screwing up is reservations. Don't get me wrong, I have attempted many times but each time fails miserably. I've been failing at cooking for years. In fact, when I was in high school, I was grocery shopping for some odd reason and because I had been gone so long my mom called to make sure I was OK. Here is the infamous conversation that my friends will never let me live down.

My mom: "Megan, honey, you've been gone for a really long time, are you OK?"

Megan, "No, mom, I'm not OK. I'm actually really frustrated, this grocery store sucks, I've been here for 45 minutes and can't find toast.'

Mom: "Toast? What do you mean? Texas toast?"

Megan (while rolling eyes): "What? No, mom. Toast, just regular toast that you give me for breakfast sometimes."

Mom: "Oh, honey. You're pretty...."

OK, so I didn't know you actually made toast, anyone could have made that mistake! I also thought for a really long time that a grilled cheese sandwich had to be made on the grill. To be fair, the name is a little misleading. It is also harder to succeed when you have attempted to cook with someone more clueless than you are. In middle school, my BFF (the same person that just recently tried to bake cookies at 550 degrees in her oven) and I had to make enchiladas for a Cinco De Mayo party for Spanish class. They turned out awesome! Except for the fact we somehow forgot to put the meat in them and my mom had to get up super early that morning and re-do them for us so we could take them to school. Or the time I made a Pineapple Upside Down Cake and forgot the pineapple. Or the time I thought I could be really creative and make an awesome dessert so I tried to melt a whole bunch of Starbursts on the stove and had to throw the whole pot away.

These are just a few examples of why I don't cook. What I can do, however, is make Cake Pops! I had one at Starbucks when they first came out and it inspired me to try to make them and I succeeded! I pretty much make them for every occasion because it's all I have. Except for now
they have come out with the cake pop machine things which pisses me off because now everyone can make them effortlessly and I'm back to not having anything.






I don't find it fair that my entire family can cook really well and I do things like try to make homemade banana pudding with meringue and can't find meringue in any aisle because once again, you have to make meringue, it's not an ingredient (they should really start noting this stuff on the recipe). Or have to learn the hard way that you don't buy banana cream pie filling to act as the pudding. I'm eager to learn but it's discouraging when I ask people serious questions like, "How do you make hard boiled eggs?" and I get laughed at or people just walk out of the room. On the bright side, I know I don't have any issues with my smoke detector and I do have the cutest apron I sometimes wear around the house for looks.




P.S.
I really appreciate everyone's suggestions for cooking lessons but I already get really frazzled and embarrass myself when I'm attempting to cook at home alone, I'd rather not be publically humilated. Or have to seek medical attention for another kitchen disaster in front of strangers (mental note, when you're using a peeler, your hand position and the direction you're peeling is vital). And for the record, I didn't appreciate whoever tried to order pizza at my last party. I didn't even make that food, it was catered. You didn't even give it a chance!

Save A Horse Ride In A Car.

As if camping wasn't disastrous enough, I agreed to go horseback riding a few months back. Correction, I didn't actually agree to it, it was a "surprise" that I ended up figuring out. I wasn't the least bit excited considering I had a traumatic experience when I was around 8 on a pony (yes, a pony. Shut up), but the person taking me (who we will call... Adam) was really excited about it and I figured I owed it to him after all the planning and effort that was put into it.

Right when we got there my anxiety hit an all-time high. Horses are massive! The one I would be riding already wasn't very cooperative from the start. I kept telling Adam that my horse looked like it didn't listen very well, but he assured me the horse was "just a big baby" and "it's the horse they put little kids on to ride." I was wondering if the horse could sense my fear because my fists were clenched so tight I had imprints from my fingernails and my uncontrollable shaking didn't help. No one really said anything, so I thought maybe the horse wouldn't notice it. Well, that was wrong. The horse didn't listen to me at all, he did everything Adam's horse did- apparently they're horse BFF's.

After trotting around in small circles for a few minutes and feeling more relaxed, Adam asks if I want to ride down to see if a trail nearby is still able to ride. I politely said no, but he insisted and of course, my horse took it upon himself to follow him onto the MAIN ROAD, which led to a raggedy ass bridge that looked about 20lbs away from collapsing. Not to mention, you had to stay close to one side to avoid all the nails sticking up which is really hard to do when you have a horse that walks crooked when you try to steer it.

After deciding the trail was too overgrown to ride (thanks to me, Adam still wanted to go on it- hell no) we head back, and that's when it happened.

It all happened so fast that I'm not really exactly sure what happened. All I know is that my horse started moving so fast and wouldn't stop and I screamed and it was embarrassing and I
was fighting harder than ever not to have an emotional break down and then I said,
"OK, I'm done. I'm over it. I don't want to do this anymore!" And Adam had to walk my horse back to the stable... humiliating. I was kind of pissed at him though because here I was, already WAY out of my comfort zone and he just kept pushing me and pushing me. If we had never gone toward that damn trail I wouldn't have seen my life flash before my eyes!

Looking back, it's possible I was a little bit dramatic. Needless to say, I will not be horseback riding again. I'll consider riding a carousel.

Megan In The Wilderness

Alright, it's no secret that I am not so much the outdoorsy type. I love a good patio with a margarita in hand, but I'm just not one for wilderness and the great outdoors. However, I pride myself on the fact that I will try anything once (there's nothing more irritating than someone that says they don't like something without even trying it). Which brings me to my next story.

December 30, 2010 is a day I will never forget. I was invited/tricked to go camping for the first time. It was hyped up so much that I was even a little excited! Especially when I learned that Bella could accompany me in this adventure. I should have considered the fact that although it wasn't very cold in Marietta on the day before New Year's Eve, temperatures tend to vary in the mountains. Or wherever Amicalola Falls, GA is. I was told to dress warm, and layered up with 2 pairs of socks, leggings, skinny jeans, a tank, a long sleeve shirt, a vest, jacket and ear muffs. I also brought along Four Loko (remember those?), Bella's food and some games. It seemed like I was prepared and I felt confident in my packing. We hopped in the car and hit the road for the 45 minute drive.

Once the 3 of us (myself, Bella and my boyfriend at the time) met up with the other part of our group (the part that had an SUV to carry us to our final destination up the rocky terrain) I realized that maybe, just maybe this wasn't what I bargained for. The temperature had drastically dropped and there was freezing rain combined with left over snow from earlier that week. The drive up the mountain was terrifying (at least for me) as we slid around in pitch black darkness. Once we parked, I asked if there were bathrooms. I didn't think that was an unreasonable question as I heard stories about campsites having facilities. The group burst out in hysterical laughter. That's when I looked at Bella and thought, what have we gotten ourselves into...

We weren't just camping. We were roughin' it. And we (Bella and I) were so unprepared. I wasn't dressed nearly warm enough, we didn't bring chairs, so Bella and I sat on a blanket on the wet ground which obviously wasn't ideal. I was afraid to eat or drink anything because I didn't want to have to go to the bathroom so that eliminated getting drunk to make the best of it. Although I attempted once, I made Bella come with me and she kept growling into the darkness so I decided I would hold it until morning. My actual thought was

"what was that?!... oh hell no." and "how is this my life right now?"

I've never been so cold in my entire life. When everyone went to sleep, or at least those fortunate to sleep in such conditions, I kept grabbing my toes because I truly was in fear of losing my limbs. Thank God I had cell reception and I am not kidding when I say I googled frostbite. I really thought I was in danger.. When 7 am rolled around I attempted to make as much noise as possible so that everyone would wake up and want to leave. Did that happen? No. They wanted s'mores. Who the hell makes s'mores at 7 in the morning?! I said I would make the damn s'mores in the fireplace at home if we could just get the hell out of there. Then they wanted to hike to the falls. And climb trees. Climb trees!! At that point, I was on the verge of an emotional breakdown, I couldn't take it anymore. I needed leather, heated seats, a real meal and a bed. Stat! I gave the group the "look" that most women have perfected and they got the hint that it was time to leave. Needless to say, Camping: 1 Megan: 0 and I will not be camping again..... ever. Unless it's in a cabin. With a hot tub, flat screen, pool table and full bar.



(-In case you haven't stalked my profile, you should know Bella is actually my dog)

Bitch Ass Serial Killer.

I went on a cruise to Mexico over the summer and one night, while eating ice cream (damn those 24 hour buffets) on the deck, my friend Brandi and I had quite an interesting conversation. While looking into the darkness of the open sea I began explaining how cool I thought it would be to have pirates take over the ship because then we would probably be at sea longer than anticipated, thus, missing work. I had no idea pirates were criminals! I'm shocked and appalled, quite frankly! After learning what it is exactly that pirates do and that they definitely still exist, I quickly changed my mind about there being any sort of pirate encounter.

The subject then went to the zombie apocalypse that I am more than ready for. Laugh now, but I am extremely confident in my survival skills for zombies. If you aren't with me, well then you're dead- and I'm not going back for you either, survival of the fittest, ya dig? Anyway, no one takes my zombie apocalypse theories serious so then it turned into serial killers somehow. We were talking about the mistakes people make when in horror films (IE: running upstairs inside of out of the front door). Brandi made it very clear that she would never fall victim to a serial killer. She said everyone should always have a gun. Period. The valid point I brought up was, if you are at home, why would you have your gun on you? She then said if you are at home, you have access to a butcher knife and pretty much, you have no excuse. She explained how she would react in the company of a serial killer.

Her words exactly:
Brandi (serial killer now present): "Oh you serial killin?" "You ain't killin me!"

Then she tells me that the only way she will be murdered is if she is bamboozled.

"That serial killer better sneak up behind me and shoot me in the back of the head if he wanna kill me"
"And that's a bitch move. He's gonna shoot me in the back of the head and before I die I'm gonna turn around and say, 'You a bitch ass serial killer!' "

I realize that these are conversations that should most likely take place around a bong or with other controlled substances involved, but for us, ice cream works just as well and it's every day talk for the two of us.

In case you're wondering, she's completely serious. Maybe I should call her.... to make sure she hasn't had any encounters with serial killers.

Today I Told Myself To Make a New Blog. And I Listened.

Ok so, I have been getting over a cold and seemed to have developed some sort of laryngitis on the tail end of this thing. I have no voice. Not the cute, raspy sick voice like on a FRIENDS episode. People actually grimace when I talk to them. Not sure how it hurts them, but they seem in pain just listening to me. I'm totally gonna work this though, I "push through" when necessary in life, at work just doesn't seem that necessary. So I can't answer the phone, and people actually take pity on me when they come in. Normally people will talk to me for like 2 hours for no reason at all, but with me losing my voice, they are seriously in and out of here. I love it!! The problem is, I'm a talker. I just love to talk. Outside of work, that is.

Any who, because I'm caught up on my workload and can't answer the phone and have watched every "Shit Girls Say" type videos on youtube, I found myself pretty bored and decided to create a new blog. This blog, I want to keep light and fun and not personal like my other one. That no one even knew about until now. So, because I like to think I'm witty and wonderfully sarcastic (and also experience some ridiculous things on a regular basis) I decided to put it into words. Hope you enjoy...