What I hate most about this town is the constant retelling of stories. I do it, I know. But I'm trying not to/stopping. I think I've heard at least fifty times this week that some kid hung himself. Actually he lived down the street from me, and I drove by when all the firetrucks and ambulances were there. The whole ordeal just generally makes me angry. How selfish. But the thing that bothers me the most is that after his mom found his body, she went to the coach that had sent him home for dipping, and told this coach that he had killed her son. Now, I know if that were to happen to me, I would certainly freak, however, how could you tell an individual that they were the means that killed someone. Honestly, the kid signed a contract agreeing he would refrain from using any tobacco products. The other weird thing is, that before this kid went to practice, he asked the girl's baseball, or softball rather, team if they could tell he had chew in his mouth. They said yes, he said good. I just don't think this is a case where people can say, "Oh, if only he hadn't been sent home from baseball practice." or "If only people would have noticed his plight." I think this kid wanted to die, and he wanted to be noticed. It's one of those deals where you say to yourself, "I'm going to kill myself, then everyone will notice." But your dead anyway, so you don't get to witness the drama and revenge. Whatever, I'm upset and sorry he died, but what a selfish a.sshole. Seriously. It infuriates me. But what I have learned from all this is that the body is a vessel. It is a temporary thing. The kid that killed himself, his vessel is useless, he no longer resides in it. I almost went to look at him during his wake. Just to see the body of a stranger, who meant nothing to me. That sounds creepy. But when the deceased is someone you don't have that emotional bond to, it's easy to identify that it's just a body, and no one is using it anymore. Weird weirdness.
On a lighter topic, someone told me the other day that I act very dignified. I took it as a compliment. I suppose I do have a certain aura about me that could be seen as that. Not conceded however. I'd like to be seen as a humble, dignified person. That would be nice.

I hate feeling like I all alone with my crazy ideas. Lately, the age gap between Lauren and I has been rather evident, which is less than fun. Silly petty arguments. And no one is taking initiative on this film project except me. I'm really trying, because this is what I want to do. I want to do this starting now. I'm growing tired of this town at an accelerated pace. You know, accelerating is either speeding up, slowing down or changing directions. Not just getting faster. Whoever decided to call the gas peddle the "accelerator" wasn't thinking. I still haven't found the time to see The Ladykillers. I haven't heard anything good, but I really want to see it for myself. Lauren and I are going to see it all dolled up. With dresses and fur coats and white gloves. Yes, it will be marvelous. Fabulous even. Here is my song for right now. Associating with my life quite well. Thank you Beck.

Your sorry eyes cut through the bone
They make it hard to leave you alone
Leave you here wearing your wounds
Waving your guns at somebody new

Baby you're lost
Baby you're lost
Baby you're a lost cause

There's too many people you used to know
They see you coming they see you go
They know your secrets and you know theirs
This town is crazy; nobody cares

Baby you're lost
Baby you're lost
Baby you're a lost cause

I'm tired of fighting
I'm tired of fighting
Fighting for a lost cause

ThereÂ’s a place where you are going
You ain't never been before
No one left to watch your back now
No one standing at your door
That's what you thought love was for

Baby you're lost
Baby you're lost
Baby you're a lost cause

I'm tired of fighting
I'm tired of fighting
Fighting for a lost cause

Things are getting bad with my brother. He's doing a lot of stupid shit in order to fit in to popular society. He thinks that the rents don't have a clue, which to me, after going through all that is hilarious. But I'm conflicted. I want him to be happy and free, but the decisions he's making are stupid. Really stupid. And the people he's associating himself with are bad, hippy-wanna-be, stupid people. I told my mom tonight, that if this continues, something bad will happen. I guess this has also inspired me to get my life together. Stop making my own stupid decisions. Lauren and I are going on vacation in a while though, after school let's out. It will be refreshing.

I'm neglecting my job right now. I've been working at Pizo's since 4pm, until 12:45 am, and then here, in the holy of holies, since 1:3am. I really haven't done too incredibly much. I'm sort of excited. My friend Clark and I were discussing moving to Europe today, which I'm completely for. I'd like to study over there. See some shit. Wander and be away from here. And it'll be nice going with someone I know. This other guy Andy, is planning on going as well. He's extremely cool as well. One of the coolest guys I've ever met. He's just simple and nice, and hasn't ever said anything bad about anyone, which you would think too much about, but think about all the people you know that do that, and how much you do it. I know I do it. I enjoy his lack of drama. Anyway, I hope I'm not coming off like I have a crush on him. I don't, he's just plain cool. Anyhow, this post seems stupid. Yeah, so I think I may be going to Europe in the next year or so. Travel and then go to school. Clark said he might even go to school there, which would be good for him. I hate being at this school late at night. It's unnerving. Well, that's all.

I haven't been doing a very good job of controlling what I say lately. I feel like I keep trying to get attention, which I suppose I am. I keep insulting myself in front of people, something I haven't done for quite some time, but I'm starting the trend again. Let's hope that I can get over this and just be who I am, and be pleased and content with that. It seems like everyone else does this so smoothly, as though I am the only one who has complications with my self image. I don't know. Everyone is probably just as messed up in the head as I am, I just have to realize that and not feel like such a shit head for being who I am. And by "being who I am" I don't me "this is me so deal with it." I do intend to change myself over time, I just need to accept the fact that I am not perfect, never shall become perfect, and I should be happy with what I have been given. That's all I have to say right now.

I'm pretty depressed. I'm pretty depressed a lot. I feel like there is no resolution for so many things in my life. Like, issues of importance just fizzle out, and I try to forget about them. Which I cannot. SO I just stick them under paperwork and behind the dressers in my brain. I am working, sort of, right now. Cleaning. Shit job that pays well. At least I get to be alone. Anyhow, I think I'm going to go on hiatus. For a while, or forever, I can't tell. I want so badly to socialize. Sometimes I feel like it keeps me going. It helps me do all that forgetting that I love to do so much. I just feel so alone. I've felt this way forever. No one can connect with me. I don't even have Lauren really. We are in such different places right now. She's there. I'm here. Something something... I feel like I need to heal. But I can't yet because there's no resolution. I've been sobbing a lot lately. A good sob is fine every once in a while. But not all the time. My mom's birthday is tomorrow, and there's going to be a nice little party for her on Friday. I do love my family. They are sort of a haven. A place to hide. Things are just so fucked up in my head right now. I just keep getting these surges of anger and sadness, which ends up being tears. I just want to scream and somehow be cathartic. I just want to escape from whatever the fuck this is that's drilling into my brain. Sometimes the only thing that soothes me is falling asleep and thinking about ways to kill myself. But that hasn't been working too well lately either. I just hate everything about me. Every aspect of myself makes me cringe and wonder why anyone gives me the time of day. I suppose this all could easily be excused as a case of teen angst. I guess. Whatever.

"Look at that ole grizzly bear..."
So yeah, things. Well, I have developed a cold sore, which blows a lot. Also, I have yet to clean the Church, and it's 9:45pm. Suck. Anyway, the moral of the story is that I'd like to reach a pleasant medium between sadness and joyfulness. I don't like mood swings. Not one bit. I keep waking up content, and gradually falling downhill as the day progresses. Sometimes however, small things rejuvenate me, such as baths, and naps. My brothers got in a fight today, and I tried to break it up. First, I threw a container of Paprika at them, then I wrassled them apart. It was painful. They are big. Gotta go clean.

Well. Let's see here. I told my roommate that I couldn't live with her, and that went okay. I wasn't feeling very peaceful there anyway. I've been feeling emotionally better too. Maybe it's the Suma, not with an "o"; it's the vitamin I'm taking to alleviate me depression. All last week I just gradually became more and more depressed as the day went on. I was so depressed that I wasn't sad anymore. It was weird. It made me feel like such melodramatic looser. Like I have all these problems and shit that I want to puke all over everyone. I just hate it when people know how I feel in the head. It makes me vulnerable. Well, I'm gonna go now. I don't have enough time to talk, so why begin.

So ya. I've been really busy moving into this apartment, and was really excited until I realized that I couldn't take a shower there and don't have a door to my room, and I thought the renovation were pretty much done, until this morning when I was rudely awakened by my landlord who wanted to paint the kitchen. Suck. Also I went to Pittsburgh. So I've been gone. I'm really depressed lately. I think I may be bi-polar. Because of my crazy mood swings, but it might just be the birth control, too. I hope that I keep posting, but I have a tendency to fall in and out of that trend, so we will see.

The transition into this warmth has been very weird. I'm very pleased, but still feel like I'm lacking something. Honesty, maybe? I want to know what people are thinking. All the time. What they feel like or essentially "are feeling," thinking, whatever. I don't know why. I just do. Just what's on their minds. I want to listen, and lately I feel as though I don't have anything to listen to, with exception of cars to footsteps of people walking by. I learned last night not to dabble with the past. I just read so many things that I wrote in high school. It was ridiculous and depressing. And as I often do at night, I felt very futile and aged. Every second I'm creating a memory of sorts, and I neglect it, to look into the future or back into the past. Smells do this a lot. I put on "Burt's Bees Lip Balm" today, and had a million images from the past passed through my mind's eye. It was bittersweet, you know? Sad, but refreshing. Well, I have a test to take. Maybe I'll write later, I've been busy moving myself, and being lazy and not lazy. "We both love to talk... and not talk... ...We could talk or not talk forever... Mmhm." By the way. Note to self, say "e-gad" more. I used to say it, or at least write it. I guess I forgot...

Well, well. I don't have too much to say this evening. I only had to work for three hours today. It was great. The reason being because I had dinner with a friend who's in town. She lives in Tibet, and is visiting for a while. Probably one of the most magnificent people I know. Still not moved in. But that's okay with me. It'd be nice, though. Last night was very refreshing. I had a very pleasent evening with some people I have never hung out with, and I enjoyed their company tremendously. Much laughter was had by all. It's nice to meet people who can talk about the same things that I do, and have the same passions as well. It was just a good night had, after a shitty day. Not because anything extremely bad happened, but I'm kicking birth control, and my hormones are going crazy, and not in a good way. Realizing that you aren't at all yourself because of a substance, and not being able to do anything about it is terrible. Believe me. School is coming along quite well. I seem to be becoming more responsible by the day. I'm going to class and doing my work now. That's a plus. Tomorrow is going to be a long day, however. Class at 10am, leave early to go to work at 11:45, but I'm working front, so hopefully I'll make a few extra bucks, which I'll promptly spend on cigs. Off work at 1:30pm, yeah, we close at 1:30, to re-open at 4pm... Work at 4, until 10, and then go babysit, which is fine. I don't mind at all because the kid will be asleep by then anyway. The strange problem is that I don't want to be payed, so I'm going to have to think of something tricky to say. I think I know what I'll say, though, so I'm sure it won't be too hard. Then the party begins at around 1:30 or so. Not really, I'll probably just walk around and smoke and think. I'm pretty good at those things. Probably better at smoking than walking. Ha. Okay, bed now. Oh wait, I came up with a conclusion that seems good. It pertains to hanging out with people I don't really know. I concluded that this is the best way to go about things. Not getting too connected to anyone. Maintaining friendships but avoid bonding. That's my rule. I don't know about rule, but it seems like a safe idea. That way things won't ever get messy or weird. There won't be any drama or shit to deal with. Not because I just don't give a fuck, but because those things won't come up if I am always mixing up who I hang out with. That's the ideal anyway, what I hope for. Because last night was just a good time, and nothing sucked about it. I didn't even really know these people except from brief interludes and such. Jokes and laughter, that was it, and it was beautiful. Because I think, when you become too close or connected or whatever, things get intimate and ew. That's all I have to say about that. It's hard to get sick of people you rarely chill with. Even though I'd like to get to know some a little better, I'll still maintain my distance. Maybe it'll work. or maybe this is just adolecent Megan coming up with dumb ideas. But I'm sure eventually she'll figure it out. Until next time...

That sounds stupid. Let's see... I think I had it right with "Okay, bed now."

Man, I really think there is something that music does to your brain. Right now I'm listening to TOOL cover No Quarter (for the record, I like both versions for differing reasons) and I'm in some kind of crazy music trance. Anyway, today seems like a huge waste, now that I reflect on all that I've done. Today was one of those days where you remember that a few months ago you thought you were on the verge of some transformation or just a simple change or something, then realize that nothing has happened yet. Locked in a place where no one goes. I can't write at the moment. Sorry.

SOME say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I?ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To know that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice

Robert Frost. I like this poem a lot. I'm feeling pretty shabby. It bothers me that whenever I come here, to write out my mind, it's always about how I feel this or that. It would be nice to simply write something profound, that has completely nothing to do with me and my so called "feelings." But it just so happens that I am always in some mood, and think/feel that if I was not to write it down, something would be lost to my ever changing mind. In that I mean I wouldn't be learning from myself and progressing as an individual. Sometimes I think that if I were to write out whatever it is that I'm thinking/feeling, it might help me sort out my thoughts and come up with some conclusion. I'm just feeling horribly horrible right now, and should probably just go to bed and distance myself from any sort of introspective thoughts. But sometimes I just can't resist a good write. The two prominent muscles running up the back of my neck are very tense right now. I've been so restless since about 5pm tonight. I haven't been able to be at peace on my day of rest. Seems like a waste. Hm. I bet that every individual feels like the center of the universe. Not that it can be helped, all you have is your own mind. You sort of have to feel that way. I wish I didn't. I hate that I can only think of my thoughts and opinions. Does that make sense. I don't think so. See, I don't think that makes sense, but maybe someone else does. ...But I do think it makes sense because I wrote it... Anyway, the moral of the story is that I had this dream last night, and I'm just remembering it now. It took place in this large room, almost like a warehouse. I was in there, rummaging around through all these thousands of boxes. They were boxes belonging to thousands of people. I knew some of the people the boxes belonged to. One box was my brother Blake's. And for some reason he was off at war, and I didn't know if he was dead or not, so I started sobbing because I was terrified that he was dead. I believe it turned out that he wasn't, but by the time I figured that out I was to preoccupied with being chased by this bear. I was in this house trying to barricade myself in; sticking refrigerators in front of doors and such. It was very strange. I'm just thinking about that room with all the boxes in it. It was all dirty and old. I was just looking through all this stuff. My dreams are very emotional. That particular dream was extremely terrifying. With bears and brothers dying and such. Weird. I am still having dreams where I cut all my hair off, too. It usually all happens in different ways, once I was electrocuted and my hair started falling out, so I just shaved my head, and another time I was in Pittsburgh and just started chopping my hair off with these blunt scissors. Sometimes I'm euphoric that I cut it off, and other times I just start crying. I feel very alone right now. All night I've felt like I should spend time alone, but I've desperately wanted to be talking to people. I'm so bizarre. I wish I could just figure it out. Or not care. I was reading this article tonight about committing suicide, which to editorialize, said that everyone should contemplate suicide to know what it feels like and to understand why people feel that way. Suicide is a tricky thing. When I've been at a peaceful place in life, and have taken the chance to look back on my younger days when I was suicidal and masochistic, I think about how silly that was, how it didn't make much sense them or now, and how I'd never go back there again because life is beautiful now, I often forget that depression is an addictive crutch. That when you want to die, it isn't simply because things suck, it's because of this horrible realization that life is pretty much futile. And people have told me that if they were thinking about killing themselves, they would just leave where they were and start over in some new place. I thought that for a while too, but that isn't the point either, when you have that horrible realization, a change of scenery isn't the answer. Getting it over with is the answer. I know this all sounds really futuristic, but I get this way at night when I'm all by myself, so bear with me. The fact is that you get trapped, and when things don't pick up, it gets hopeless and just seems like a giant waste of time, your time and everyone elses?, so you end it. This is weird. I read too many essays tonight. I feel like I'm stating to write one. The moral of the story kids, is that when you aren't living for anything and nothing is living for you, except yourself, you feel like it's just time to check out. Gotta go. Thanks. The other moral of the story is that being, or feeling alone, sucks. So once again, I wish I was a housecoat, and wasn't going to a school I hate, and had a decent job, and didn't live in ohio, and was beautiful, and had people who understood me. Maybe I just create this scenario in my own mind. And maybe I'm just having a pity party here. Yeah, well, no one's invited, so take your grab bags and get the fuck out. Because it's my fuckin' turn to blow my fuckin' horn and tell the world that I hate it and the majority of it's inhabitants. Especially the one's who talk about them goddamn selves' all the time. And no, that doesn't include me because I'm am on a computer writing to myself, not blabbing my life story to you in person. You chose to read this!!! This blog is not called "Read This Because I Said You Have To, Or Else!!!" And even if it was you still wouldn't have to read it. Anyway. That sentence took so long to write, what with the italicized words and all that I forgot what I was saying... Yes, so I don't know what I was talking about, let me reread... Oh, well I think I've said all I need to about that for now. Except the thing about the people who talk about themselves all the time! Man, oh, man, I know that all you really have to talk about is in fact yourself, BUT that doesn't mean that you can't stop for one fucking second and ask a bloody question or nod your fucking head. Augh! Okay done. But Jimi has a few words to say first:

Manic Depression's touching my soul,
I know what I want,
but I just don't know how to go about getting it.

Feeling, sweet feeling
drops from my finger, fingers
Manic Depression's captured my soul.

Woman so willing the sweet cause in vain,
you make love,
you break love,
it's-a all the same when it's...
when it's over.

Music sweet music,
I wish I could caress, caress, caress.
Manic Depression's a frustrating mess.
Well, I think I'll go turn myself off an' go on down.

Really ain't no use me hanging around.
Oh, I gotta see you.

Today was pretty bad. I'm going to sort of vent now, because I refrain from venting to anyone in person. I have gotten about five hours of sleep in the past 72 hours, and man does that suck. I could never be an insomniac, not full fledged anyway, because I love sleep. It is my haven of sorts. But I haven't had too much sleep as of late, and that makes me a bit cranky. I stayed up last night writting a paper, after having to close at work by myself. Woke up to go to class. Was very late, but I said to myself, "Self, you gotta go to class, it's imperative that you be responsible and don't skip." So I went, and all we did was sit in a pland, grayish room, and listen to this lady tell us how to use a computer. I tried not to sleep, but I couldn't resist. I also tried to make it look like I was in fact paying attention, by sitting up, and cocking my head to one side, so as to look like I was pondering or something, but still managed to fall asleep. I have this genetic tendency to fall asleep in any postion at any time or place, no matter how uncomfortable. Anyhow, somehow I woke up as my prof told us to "give her a hand," and did so. Drove home. Drank chocolate milk. Bad idea, having become lactose intolerant and all. But I couldn't resist the silky smooth taste. Started moving in right away. Did that until I had to work. My friend convinved me to close again. I figured I needed the money anyhow, and closing with this friend wouldn't be so bad because we laugh a lot. Turns out that a few hours later he convinced someone else to close for him, and I was stuck closing with incompitent people. Nice. Go to Grounds on break to hear other people problems. Around 11pm this Christian college group called "cru" With an umlat over the "u," comes in and there are like 40 of them. I do the best I can to help the front girl. We do just fine. The "cru" group is really nice to us. And leave us a $12 tip. Thanks. Oh so much. I decided that I'm just going to tell them that they didn't show much of God's love, and I'm going to tell all my athiest friend that Christians are stingy bastards, and that they should never go to church. That'll hit um where it hurts. Anyhow, work ends around 12:30. I find that I've locked my keys in my car. Walking home to get my other set. Walk past Howards. Hip-hop show I wanted to see. I go in. It was awesome. It really compensated for everything that went wrong today. Friends and fun. And I love seeing people love music. It really makes me a happy person. Because music is what I live for. And I've come to the conclusion that, with the acception of a few genres, I don't mind what music it is, as long as people feel it. Now there are some, such as Brittny Spears or any pop crap that don't count in that conclusion, for, in my mind, obvious reasons. I just like to see people who love music as much as I do. Anyhow, I'm really tired, and having a hard time typing and am misspelling a lot of things, and I don't really care to fix it right now. I'm a bad speller, and I know it. I was always the first one out in the Spelling B's. That reminds me, I need to purchase that Spelling B documentary. It's hilarious. Yes, so signing off...

She was standing in front of the door, shouting some alternate form of English. "She's drunk," I thought to myself, "and I'm hungry." She separates me from my home fries, so I forcefully push her to the side so that I can open the door. The door's locked. I'm confused. "Um, did you just push me?" she slurs at me. "Um, yeah..." I say, still confused. "Do you wanna go?" Go where? Now I'm very confused, and my stomach is still empty. I look inside the Corner Grill at the laughing face of Kelly, one of the waitresses. The drunk girl is wearing a white shirt and has a scar on her nose, yet still maintains a prissy aura. Now I remember her, she's the girl who was at Howard's, sitting at the bar with her tits hanging out. She had called Chris Anderson "sir," which made me scoff. Niki approaches the door, her eyes huge and full of rage. "Why is the door locked?" I'm thinking. And then the pieces fall into place. "Oh, now I get it..." crosses my mind. Niki unlocks the door. Oh thank god. Food now. Niki is on a cell phone, talking to the police. "Do you have any idea who I am?" drunky babbles. "My dad is a big time lawyer in Northwest Ohio!" Niki shows the girl that she's talking to the police. The girl bolts. I get it now. I laugh, find a seat and order my food. Finally.

Okay, so I just came to Owens at 1:45 pm to meet with my African American Studies group, and no one is here. I hate this. Should I just stay here or go home. I have another class at 5 pm. Man, this is aggravating. I've been working my ass off the make money, and it seems like I'm making less than when I don't try. My cats need fixed, but now I have to wait two weeks to get a membership card for planned pethood. And the mandatory membership costs $10. And it's $42 to get one female cat spayed. I hate money. Oh, I guess I'm breaking the rules by not using this computer for Library Research. Ah, well. I'm so agitated right now. I think I'm going to go back home. Even though I don't want waste the gas, scratch that, I just found one of the people in my group...

Last night seemed like a good night to die. I know that sounds weird, but I was very angry at human tendencies. I hate being stuck in my own mind, and having people refuse to listen to me. Not that everything I say is the resolution for everything, but I try to stay as humble as I can, resisting telling people what I'm really thinking. I know I resolved to be an honest person, and hold to that, however, I realize that if you tell someone something they might disagree with or try to tell them they are wrong, the likelihood of them saying, "you know, you're right," is more than impossible. I don't know. I just feel like I shouldn't say anything at all. Because what will it matter if no one is going to listen to your thoughts anyway. No one turns ideas over in their heads before they come up with a conclusion. Everyone claims to be so open minded, but when it really comes down to it, everyone I know that says that is the opposite. I think they mistake having liberal ideas for open mindedness. People can have open ideas, not open minds. Last night was just very awkward for me. In many ways. I just had a hard time coping. I don't know. I drove around for a really long time. Just thinking and listening to music, which is the one thing I am very good at. Anyway, I just bought a very fine bottle of wine, and am going to go drink it in celebration of a friend's twenty-first birthday. Tah.

Augh. I'm kind of at this point at the moment where I'm thinking, "How did this happen again..." This being procrastination. I thought we were sort of through Procrastination! I'm like the abused girlfriend, always running back to what never does me any good. That being procrastination. It's been a good day, it's just now, at 1 am, when I'm realizing that I need to have a paper written tomorrow. I don't know what it's about. So there really isn't anything I can do... It's a group project you see. And group projects and I do not get along. So, I don't know what everyone else in my group is doing. Because, although I called them, they didn't call me until about 7 pm this evening. They live in Toledo. I don't know where. She just left a message telling me to "stop over." I don't blame them. It's me who's at fault here. For being a stupid, slack-ass. I suppose I've been somewhat busy, but I certainly could have found the time if I had tried hard enough. So I guess we'll see how this one plays out. Life is just one adventure after another in the wonderful world of Megan. Ehh, I don't know. Anyway, I know what I'm gonna do, it just a matter of whether it correlates to everyone else's, and if not, will the teacher care. Today I was in fact busy, I had class, went to Lima, and did a radio show. However, the only thing I really truly had to do was go to class. But I'd been planning this Lima thing for weeks, and didn't want to let a friend down, slash, I wanted to go a lot. We went to Lima to go to this fine dining experience. Her dad does these fund-raisers where he cooks exquisite food, and we watch a movie. Fun. Well, to an extent. The food was great, but the atmosphere was less than refreshing. For instance, it was just a bunch of chochy richy riches and their fancy clothes. No ethnic diversity to be seen, just a large group of pretentious white people talking about their money bags. I mean for real, it was weird and uncomfortable. My father works in Lima now though, so her was there. He is the director of this exhibition hall called "Artspace," which is pretty damn cool, but my parents aren't anything like the people I met tonight, and oh man, am I grateful. The group we were sitting with was a couple, and this friend of that couple. Then my parents and my friend. To describe the couple: Older man, maybe just fifty, and she was beautiful and maybe thirty. Love? Unlikely. He's a very rich man, and she was probably the high school nerd. She never laughed at his jokes, and from what I remember, didn't really talk to him at all. He made a few comments, it was awkward. The other man: He lives in Las Vegas, from Minnesota. A doctor of sorts. Comes to Lima about every month. Why? Not sure. I think him and the lady are having an affair. Just speculation. Anyhow, this man was a key expert in the OJ Simpson trial. He apparently is the man at the hospital who tells families that their loved ones are dead. So, the court asked him if OJ's grief response to his wife's death was believable or not. Blah blah blah. The three start talking about when the verdict was about to be passed the rooms in which everyone watched the verdict (on TV) were segregated. And as the innocent verdict was passed the African Americans all nodded, while everyone else gasped. They thought this was well, disgusting. And the pretentious white people across from me shook THEIR heads. Luckily, my mom piped up and made a good point about the bigger picture of things. That of which being, the pigeonhole that society places on minorities, and to not see a black man given the guilty sentence was the issue. I hope that makes sense. Anyway, yes. These people I sat with tonight have never in their lives witnessed poverty. Mommy and Daddy sent them to college and bought their cars and their clothes and their whatever the fuck. That pisses me off. Not that I never had these luxuries, but because they are so ignorant. They've never known what it's like to be just scraping by. To have to do rich people laundry and pull their weeds and do their dishes in order to live. They told my friend, who's father was the chef of the evening, that it must have been nice having such a chef for a father, all these good meals all the time must have been lovely as a child. To which she responded that no, she hadn't enjoyed these things because they didn't have any money. She ate soup from a can and pretzels. What!? I don't understand. Per-ret-zeeleh??? What is this thing you speak of? Yeah, to put it plainly, they didn't get it. Whatever, these are the people who will run our country. These prisses of society. It makes me want to puke. But on a lighter note, I got to be a radio personality tonight. My friend has a show, and asked me to join. Much fun was had. There was even a moment of accidental dead air, so she made me just bullshit for about twenty seconds. I made up this story about wearing a winter coat and flip-flops, and being made fun of, but how I'm a hypocrite because I detest tank-top sweaters. But I never got to finish the story. I said, "Because," and the song started. And I got to picks songs out, too. I picked a song from the Royal Tenenbaums, and Wesley Willis, and The Dead Kennedy's, and I don't know if there was anything else. But it was fun, nonetheless. So, I'm going to go to bed now, but one last story first. So, I'm crossing the street yesterday, it's dark, I'm crossing Wooster, heading down Main. The little man comes up on the screen, and tells me it's time to walk, so I do. I'm walking, listening to my headphones, thinking per usual. Red car. Turning. Towards me. Fast. Screeches on the breaks a foot away from me. I just look at the lady. She looks at me. I keep walking. The weird thing about that story is I didn't flinch. I didn't even bat an eye. I don't understand. I just kept walking. I saw her coming, and just kept walking. So, I suppose it was partially my fault, but inadvertently. Just as much as it was her's. Weird. I just kept on walking. She could have plowed me. Just kept on walking. I just wasn't even thinking about it. I thought she would stop. She didn't, kept walking. I didn't give her a dirty look or the finger. I don't see what that would have achieved. It was just strange. So now it's time for bed.

I was just eating a really delicious apple, and about 15 seconds ago, dropped it on the floor. I'm pissed. Martha is talking to me. She makes this noise that's like a meow/purr in the back of her throat. It sort of sounds like a faint, high pitched Chewbacka noise. Man, what a day. It really has simply been that, a day. A day in the life of Megan Elizabeth, with a few perks. First perk, wearing a huge down (you know, like the goose feathers...) coat. Bright orange. It belongs to a friend of mine, who was going to move to Alaska, bought this righteous, warm coat, didn't go to the Arctic, and presently has this coat just laying around. Enter Megan into that picture. Anyway, wore the coat, which was spectacularly bright and bulky, however, it swished. It reminds me of Seinfeld. George wants that awesome suit, and after many an outwitting with another man of simular stature, gets it, and finds out that it swishes. Fu-nee. I just made Martha freak out and puff up by making this quiet, high pitched noise with my mouth. Yes, so, apart from the coat were just a few funny things that happened. Like paying for a pack of cigs with pennies. And paying for a cup of coffee with pennies. My friend was working so I just put all the pennies on the counter, pushed them towards her with both hands and said, "One cup of coffee, please." What a fuck I am. I think I did well on my Astronomy exam, and got extra points for staying after the test was over. See, I got to class at 5:10 pm, was done with the test roughly by 5:35 pm, and we had to come back to class at 6:25 pm. So I decided to tough it out, and it was worth it. Plus, I got to play with magnets. But I did fall asleep on some couch whilst awaiting the re-convention of class. Anyway, I'm just talking about my day, that's boring. Let's see... Hmmm... I shaved for the first time in a long, long, really fuckin' long time. I was using this lady razor, and it just wasn't doing the job at all. So I found a Mach 3, and yeowza. That sure did the trick. Ever since I decided that waxing my legs would be a good idea, last spring, (it wasn't by the way, never do it) the hair on my legs has grown back in patches. I look so weird and sickly. It's funny though, at least I think so, which probably means that 99% of the world won't think that's funny at all. Note to self: don't tell that story. Yes, so, I am a shaved women I am, and I've never felt better... I even put sensual body oil on my legs, for a silky smooth finish. How lovely. By sensual body oil, I mean Kroger brand. Go me. Yeah, so I'd really like to be moving in to the apartment now. Thanks. Thad be great. I just really need somewhere to chill out that isn?t where I?m living now, or Grounds. Because, just in case no one noticed, I?m there all the fucking time. I'm just now realizing how 12.5 hours ago, I was just getting out of class, and was very relieved. But time has just passed me by, and I wonder what I have achieved today. Class. Went to parents. Bath. Shave. Shower. Eat. Find money. Buy smokes. Buy coffee. Rewrite notes for Astronomy test. Class. Lauren's house. Pizza. Sit with friends at Grounds. On computer. Yeah, that was my day, and by my calculations, all I did that was productive was shave. Man, this post is dull. I suppose I could talk about how pointless life is, but I don't feel like it right now. My brain is sort of fried. Well. Bedtime. And remember kids, if someone makes you mad, just put some shit in a paper bad, light it on fire, set it in front of that stupid person's door, ring the doorbell, find somewhere to hide and watch the fun begin. That's what I'm gonna do this weekend. If anyone wants to help, let me know. There's this stupid man I know, and I want him to step in poop. And he?ll say, "It's poop again!" Even if it's the first time...

I just drove around with my friend for an hour looking for Crybaby Ln. It was a whole lot of funny. We thought we found it at one point. We came to this sign that read "DEAD END no exit" and freaked out a lot. And kept saying "skees skees skees..." There's this song where some guys says that a lot. Anway. I just did a little research. And discovered that it IS in fact on Euler (?) Rd. We are dumb. And scared. I just read a lot of ghost stories and I'm scared now. It reminds me of this dream I had where I was in Mexico or something, and I met this girl. I didn't realize it at first, but soon found out that she was a ghost, after she showed me her grave. She asked me to help her find her mom. So I took her hand, and we looked around. She looked really sad, and had no skin pigment. It was weird. Anyway. I'm unnerved a lot, so I'm going to go crawl in bed with Lauren. I hope she isn't naked. Ighm...