Friday, January 29, 2010

Parties for hosting

Lets start calling paper tree flesh

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

In West Philadelphia

BYU just sent me this:

"Who’s Your Champion?

Each year, BYUSA seeks to recognize five outstanding individuals from the BYU community for their genuine commitment, example, integrity, and contributions to others by presenting them with one of the university’s most prestigious service awards: the Brigham Award.

Nominations for this award are now being accepted at, and nominations will close on Friday, Feb. 5. All current BYU students, faculty, and staff are eligible. Nominees must abide by the Honor Code.

Recipients will be announced April 13, 2010, at this year’s Unforum in a special video presentation.

Nominate at


Which reminds me of voting for Prom King and Queen, and how we'd always try to get one of our friends crowned, but it turned out that we just didn't have that many friends and we just weren't that influential so we'd shrug our shoulders and go back to playing tetris or making smoothies.

Monday, January 25, 2010


I had hiccups in class. And my phone rang. Also, I think my shoes smell funny.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

in the kind of world where we belong

Entering my last semester of college has given me a wholly undeserved sense of entitlement. I figure my opinion is most valid regarding most things because I'm probably older than most any one who has their hand raised. I feel like I should be at the front of every line because I've been waiting in these lines for six years. I park in faculty parking because at this point I probably know just as much as they do (I recognize that these statements are neither rational nor accurate). I give freshmen condescending looks, although my condescending look just looks like I'm trying to connect eyebrows. I use the library computers to watch tv shows on hulu. I don't really have a justification for that one.

the harder it is to live without it

I keep waiting for the large tree outside my house to crash through my window.
The winds be blowin.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

My daddy says I'm fine

We don't like things that don't belong. Sesame Street teaches us that one of these things is not like the other. So we don't like the one square among the three circles. It's not right. It belongs with the other squares. Just like mold belongs in blue cheese, not in bread. And dirt is lovely in the garden but horrific beneath my fingernail. Cookies in the cabinet, not in the bed. I don't know about that one actually. I think i would feel okay advocating the rights of cookies, maybe holding a picket sign reading "Oreos deserve a good night's sleep." Because it's prejudice really. Maybe the square has always felt more like a circle. And who are we to say "Sorry, you were born a square, so a square you must remain." It's forsaking the American Dream.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Ooh la la la

I think the good people behind the counter at 7-11 are the only beings on the planet who would smile at me while I count out $1.43 in nickels (and three pennies).

Monday, January 18, 2010

When Lenin was little

In Latvia we heard a lot about SAD. Authorities warned us of the adverse effects of sun deprivation. Weight gain, depression, lack of energy. The remedy for SAD was a light box. One was to stare at the box for ten minutes and walk away with a brighter (ha) perspective. My comrades and i usually opted for fifteen minutes in a tanning bed (separate beds). I'm not depressed. However, I feel a bit lackluster. Like if Publisher's Clearing House showed up at my front door with an over-sized check, I'd say, "Wow. That's great. But what can you do about this weather?" Also, "I don't remember entering the sweepstakes...".

Friday, January 15, 2010

oh he's just a friend

When you are three years old and Mom asks what you would like to name your new pet goldfish, take moment to reflect on the names that have meant most to your toddler existence. If it were one fish you might say Elmo, Snuffalufagus, or maybe Mr. Hooper. But there are two goldfish so the decision is obvious. Watch Bert and Ernie swim gleefully around their clean bowl. Carry the bowl in your stubby arms while you and the fish explore the house and slosh water on the carpet. Let Dad help you sprinkle the flaky powder on top of the bowled water, and giggle when Bert and Ernie head for the surface and gulp the floating food. Believe Mom when she tells you Bert and Ernie are just taking a nap with their bellies up. Believe her again when she says Bert and Ernie are going for a swim via the toilet.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Congregate in groups of four

I was curious. I watched the Bachelor. I laughed.
And then I would I fare?
25 girls have about an hour to make an impression on the perma-grinned Jake. So introductions are crucial and often go something like this:
"Hi, I'm Kiki, I'm a fitness model and I can't wait to snuggle up close to you."
Or, "Hey there Big Boy, I'm Cindy and I brought you this puka shell necklace because it's hott, just like me."
Or even, "Jake I just know that we're going to get married." Really. One of them said that.
If I were to meet Jake, I'd have to say, "Um, hi. I'm Meg. I have a blog. And I don't want you to touch me until at least the third date. k bye."
Rose or no rose?

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Good bye

I just spelled Snufalufagus correctly on the first try. Thank you, higher education.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Sometimes I find old documents

That damn light through the yonder window again. Mary stirs in her sleep as I slip out of bed and head for the kitchen. In route my eye catches a movement in the bushes outside. Nothing new. Having the Capulets for next-door neighbors presents an array of ruckus at all hours. The masquerades, the sword fights, it’s enough to make me want to post that “for sale” sign outside our house. But the location is spectacular and I couldn’t just uproot Mary and the kids like that. So we bought earplugs. Although a strange movement outside the window is not only normal but to be expected, something strikes me as particularly peculiar. I stand to the side of the window, staring intently at the quivering shrub. And then it has hair. Followed by eyes and a face. The bush is no longer a bush, but instead an adolescent emerging slowly, crouching among the trees, eyes fixed on something up high. I follow his gaze until it hits Juliet standing on her balcony. Talking to herself. Again. I tell you what, for a pretty girl, that Juliet sure has some issues. One morning on my way to the mailbox I found her outside on her front lawn soliloquizing the morning away. A shame really. But it’s no wonder, what with her parents being the way they are. Sure there’s a time and a place for a party, but letting your own children be raised by the nurse, well that’s just a loss of good old English values. And now she’s got a boy in the bushes. He can’t be more than 15. Oh no… It’s a Montague. Ramon is it? I’ve seen him around town, running around with that Mercutio, the culprit in many a shenanigan. Sure this young one seems nice enough, but the last thing that poor confused Juliet needs is a hormonal creep in the bushes from a rival family (from what I hear, it was a property dispute. The Capulets insisted on making their pool large enough to creep onto the Montagues’ lawn. But that’s just what I hear.). I don’t believe it, now his mouth is moving. Good thing these crazies can find each other, I suppose. Realizing the potential for a good party story, I crack the window open, slowly, and strain to listen. “East…Juliet…sun.” Yes, he must truly be infatuated. Only the infatuated welcome the morning light after a sleepless night. That damn light. It’s hard to hear, but it’s clear that this poor sucker has fallen hard. “That I might touch that cheek!” Suddenly Juliet is beckoning and Romeo bounds to the balcony. I reflect back on my romance as a 15 year old. That Elizabeth was really something special. And we had plenty cheek stroking of our own. It’s not something I care to witness, and step away from the window. Mary’s hair is sprawled over the pillow, a faint snore barely audible as she rotates to her side. Tobias wails from the backroom, awake and ready to be fed. I sigh and remember I need to visit the alchemist later that afternoon.

Monday, January 11, 2010

I fought the law and the law won

I know that the best way to be a better writer is to write, even on days when I have nothing to say.
I have nothing to say today.
And I doubt you want to read about the snooze button, hit 7 times.
Or about my trip to the bank where I had to trust a stranger with $100 cash, to be deposited later.
Or about how in most classes I hate the kids who talk a lot, but in my creative writing class I'm that kid.
Or about lunch in the MOA, and Stephen hating mayo and me getting to eat the rest of his mayo laced sandwich.
Or about Art History, and the patrons who paid to be worshiped, and how I wondered if that's an option still available because I might be interested?
Or about the parking attendant who told me I can't park in the faculty parking, only to sneak past him and park there and drive away ticket-free. Hehe. Sucka.
Or about my history of print homework (I don't want to read about that either).
Yeah, not my best.

Friday, January 8, 2010

I'm a lot like you

What's that you ask? What are my April plans?
Holding a diploma.

Thursday, January 7, 2010


I remember hearing that the body craves foods it needs. But I don't understand how my body could possibly need a spicy chicken combo.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

just fakin and frontin

Remember the duel between Merlin and Mad Madame Mim in The Sword and the Stone? Merlin ultimately wins by transforming himself into a virus and infecting Mim. Mim is then green and covered in purple spots, lying in bed with a thermometer in her mouth. Yesterday I woke up looking just like that. And I couldn't remember any recent duels with Wizards so I panicked. And googling "rash and flu symptoms" led me to believe I was soon to die from spinal menangitis or lyme disease. An emotional breakdown and few hours later, a nurse stuck a large needle in my bum to get rid of the strep virus that was making me grouchy and splotchy, neither of which is very becoming. I don't mind shots as long as I don't have to think about what's going on. But this nurse wasn't about to let this happen. During the seemingly 2 minutes it took to inject the antidote she kept making comments like "Yeah, this is a rough one. The consistency of Elmer's glue. You're lucky we warmed it up for you." Delightful.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010


Why having the flu is maybe a good thing:

*I'm overcoming my fear of death. On the average, healthy day, I'm rarely fond of the idea of dying. But lately at that very first moment of awareness in the morning when the effects of nyquil have worn off, I've thought "I've had a good run. Maybe it's time to go."

*The extreme temperature swings are almost like a sauna. And it's such a delightful surprise, profusely sweating in the dead of winter. Man, I am so lucky.

*Hallucinogenic dreams without hallucinogenics.

*My Tylenol consumption is keeping the medical economy on solid ground.

*Class? Psh. It's not like I'm trying to graduate or anything.

*I'm taking advantage of culturally enriching experiences that I would otherwise be too busy for. Like; The E True Hollywood Story- Angelina Jolie, What Not to Wear, and Mars Attacks.

*The way in which I speak is no longer boring and coherent, but instead ambiguous, and if I may so so myself, poetic. "Sleep, I have more fondue."

Saturday, January 2, 2010

dig this grave, darling

I woke up at the crack of dawn (9:00) because I have to submit a bio. My own bio. Written in 3rd person. Uh huh. I'm having a hard time coming up with much. "Meg Morley enjoys a stiff diet coke on the rocks." "Meg Morley almost beat the first Mario world last week." "Meg Morley breaks into a sweat when asked about her future plans." "Meg Morley backwards is Gem Yelrom, which she wishes was acceptable to demand of other people to call her, because come on. Gem Yelrom." "Meg Morley, when given the choice between accomplishing a real task or writing a blog, will, without exception, write a blog." "Meg Morley spent a significant amount of time watching this over her winter break.""Meg Morley rarely makes it through an entire movie without having to use the restroom at least once, and wonders if it's more mental than physiological, but problematic regardless. She would stop drinking so much water but fears dehydration, a condition widely underestimated in today's medical community, and if ignored long enough inevitably leads to death." I think I like that last one.

Friday, January 1, 2010

He asked for 13 and they gave him 31

Febreze is the official air freshener of the NFL, which I guess works because I can't think of anything that smells better than professional football.