Thursday, July 12, 2012

Toddler Myra was Politically Incorrect and Ultimately Uncaring of Everyone's Feelings Except her Own.

I hope all of you understand what a sacrifice this is for me to make. I am usually embarrassed to tears when mom breaks out the baby stories. Baby stories are almost as bad as baby videos. I honestly cannot remember if Boyfriend has seen any of those yet. If he has, then I mentally blocked it because it was so embarrassing for me.

Anyway, because I love you all so much, I have decided to let you be privy to two particular stories that I find pretty funny and barely anyone knows about.

Well, they will now. But whatever.

Anyway. With the help of my mother (since obviously I don't personally remember these stories), I will now begin the humiliation.

Let me begin with a little story that takes place in the GHETTO of San Francisco. More specifically, in a part of town mainly inhabited by those of Latino heritage. My family and I were out in California visiting family, and I was probably around 4 years old. We were trying to find our way back to my grandfather's house, and we boarded a bus. This particular bus was extremely crowded with a variety of people. The majority of them were members of a notorious Mexican gang that pretty much dominated the area we were in. There was also a lady with a live chicken in a paper bag sitting across from us, which toddler Myra apparently found vastly interesting, and my poor mom had to constantly tell me, "Myra, NO. We DON'T touch other people's chickens." All the while, she was also having to quiet my then six-year-old brother, who was shouting over and over, " I WANT TO DRIVE THE BUS!!! I WANT TO DRIVE THE BUS!!!"  And I started asking really loudly, "WHY DOES SHE HAVE A CHICKEN IN A BAG??"

She finally got us quieted and we were sitting like civilized children should.

It didn't last.

I started looking inquisitively around the bus, taking in the people that were riding with us. I stared especially hard at the Mexican gang members. I looked at them for a while, and then turned to my mom, and said in a really loud voice, "Do you know what I just noticed? Everyone on this bus is CHINESE except for us!!!!!" To my mother's horror, I turned back to the confused-looking gang members, and told them, "Did you know you were CHINESE?!?"

My mom snatched me onto her lap, looked apologetically at the men I had just offended, and said, "I'm so sorry. She's only four." To which one of their gang shrugged and replied,  "It's alright. We've been called worse things than Chinese before."

With the issue of Chinese people being on the bus resolved in my little four-year old mind, I took back up the issue of the chicken in the bag. I asked about it until we got off the bus, and my mom finally went, "She has a chicken in a bag because she's going to COOK it, dear." Four year old Myra proceeded to pitch an absolute fit, screaming, "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THAT ON THE BUS!!?? I WOULD HAVE SAVED IT!!!!!!" Mom said tiredly, "THAT'S why I didn't tell you on the bus."

I think this, coupled with my more recent post about trying to save a rabid raccoon, have led me to the conclusion that I should just give it up and become an animal rights activist.

My next story takes place in the backyard of my great-grandmother's house in Rockford, Alabama. I had just started talking, and the discovery of language had made me almost unbearable to be around, because I would NOT shutup. (Obviously, not much has changed.) My parents and grandparents were sitting on two benches in the backyard, and they had spread a blanket on the ground between then, setting me down on it to explore the grass around the edges of the comforter, and also apparently to eat bugs, one of my favorite childhood activities.

At some point, I crawled over to my great-grandmother and tugged on her pants leg. She lifted me up in her lap and  continued to talk to my parents. My mom saw me studiously looking at the skin on my grandmother's neck, which had become rather saggy, as is usual for the elderly. But infant Myra had never before come into contact with such a thing before. To my parent's horror, I reached up and lightly slapped her neck skin. And then I latched onto it and flapped it around a little. Then I looked at my mom and shouted (apparently toddler Myra shouted all the time and never used her inside voice" "WHY IS HER SKIN FALLING OFF?? IT LOOKS LIKE A TURKEY!!!" I then stopped, frowned, and a concerned and frightened look came over my face. " IS GRANDMA TURNING INTO A TURKEY!!??"

Mom says she doesn't remember much after that. She thinks she might have blocked it from her memory. But to me it seems like a perfectly legitimate question to ask. Especially if you are afraid your grandma might turn into a turkey at any moment.

Anyway, that's about all I think I can bear sharing with you right now. I might also like to add here that the first two words I ever spoke in my life were not "Mama" or "Da-Da". They were "money" and "candy", consecutively.

How appropriate.

Anyway, I hope you had a good laugh from these. Feel free to comment and tease. I wouldn't blame you.

I hope that God has mercy on me when I become a mother and gives me children exactly the opposite of myself.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Guest Post Alert!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well hey there! This is NOT Myra. This is actually Matt from over at A Link to the Matt. Myra and I have decided to switch up and do a guest post on each others blogs. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking… “Who knows WHAT kind of damage Myra’s doing over on Matt’s blog.” I know… I’m thinking it too.

So what do I have to talk about? Well… I’ll tell you. Toasterphobia seems to have something of a hostile atmosphere towards guys. And by hostile I mean… Walk into an Alabama football game dressed like Aubie hostile. This is something that I kind of hope to reconcile, being a guy and all. So the following posts are some reasons why not all guys are jerks. You may also gain some insights into why some of them are.

Not all guys are rude, lazy, sex-craving pigs. That being said, a lot of them are. Here’s why. It is very easy for a guy to slip into that kind of pattern because it is in their nature. They must overcome those urges, but it’s not easy. They must build habits of being a gentleman, being a good listener, and resisting the urge to hunt for girls to have sex with all of the time. Now, the way I overcame that natural maleness was to base my habits on the Bible and its commands. But I know many non-Christians who are “good guys” as well. Seek those guys out. They are out there.

Don’t take this new feminine sense of entitlement too seriously. Myra’s “Boyfriend Handbook” was funny, but that’s all it should ever be. Guys have to sleep too. Instead, strive for a sense of equality in your relationships. A guy should be as eager to watch A Walk to Remember (which I like, by the way. I’ll be reviewing it on my blog in a couple weeks) as a girl is to play Skyrim. I know girls were mistreated in the past, but humanity has come a long way since then. Instead of a guy JUST treating a girl like a queen, treat each other like kings and queens. The key to a successful relationship is walking in harmony.

Guys, you aren’t off the hook. You still need to do acts of kindness like open doors for your girlfriend/wife, and cook dinner every once in a while. The reason girls are so emotion based is because they need to be cared for. You do that, and if you find the perfect girl, she’ll care for you right back.

My final point. People are people. Neither all guys nor all girls are inherently evil. But a member of either sex can choose to be a jerk. Girls, look for a guy to treat you well, and treat him well. That, and Christ, and you two are all set for a wonderful relationship, completely free of jerks.

 (Myra here!!! If you liked this post, you can find more of Matt's AWESOME work HERE at hjs own blog, A Link to the Matt. Thanks!!!!)

Monday, July 2, 2012

Links, Floorboards, College Survival, Drama, and Life.


Finally, the blog review I have been promising all of you :) I'm sorry I'm such a terrible person and this is like a week late. But whatever.

If this is your first time visiting my blog, this will probably be a rather dry and boring post for you to read. After checking out the following blogs, I suggest you go here and read that post instead, because it is probably my favorite post I've ever written, besides the one about deceptively evil raccoons.

With that being said, lets get this show on the road!!


A Link To The Matt

I think I should give you an overview of what my good friend and blogging partner Matt does on his blog before I tell you what I think of it. Mondays through Fridays, he does a Top Five list, which so far has included Top Five Distractions From God AND Top Five Most Anticipated Movies of 2012.  The Top Fives regress as the week goes on, starting with Number Five and ending the week with Number One, keeping you in suspense all week :) The weekend is pretty much whatever Matt feels like posting, and so far these are my favorite posts. He also randomly posts awesome Youtube videos, links to pages he likes, and he also promotes other blogs that he is a fan of. Including mine. Bravo, Matt. :) Also, brownie points to anyone who can guess the reference behind Matt's blog name.

Now, I have to be brutally honest here. Matt's blog isn't usually my type of reading. HOWEVER, when I read THIS post, it was so thought-provoking and mentally stimulating, I HAD to read more. Even if you're not into God or church, I highly suggest checking out his Top Five Distractions From God. It opened my own eyes to some of the things I might be doing in my life to prevent God from fully doing what He wants to do. Matt also wrote a post on the Obamacare bill that I literally applauded him for when I read it. There's been so much facebook drama and mudslinging going on about the bill that I loved that someone FINALLY had some sense.

Overall, Matt's dry sense of humor, coupled with his good common sense and Christian values, makes this blog a winner in my book!!! Here is his link below.

I wish Matt the best of luck with his venture into the blogging world!!!


From Under The Floorboards

The mere existence of this blog came as a surprise to me, since the writer is a dear friend of my family and I had no idea anyone else in the family blogged. So, obviously, I was extremely excited to go check it out. However, it was a little different than what I expected.

From Under The Floorboards is not what you would think a normal blog would be. Instead of a literary blog, like mine and the rest of the ones the I am reviewing, THIS blog is strictly for exhibiting illustrations, designs, art, and paintings, all done by the author himself. There is even a video of stop motion animation he did that is pretty awesome!!! I don't know if you all are as cultured and sensitive to the world of art as I am (YES that was sarcasm), but if you are a lover of art, snimation, sketches, or just beautiful things, you should definitely check this blog out. I know I will now be a faithful follower of From Under the Floorboards. I especially recommend the videos of watercolor transitions and stop motion animation he has. Way cool.

As a whole, I like the design and atmosphere of this blog. The art is wonderful and I can't wait to see more! Check out From Under the Floorboards here-



Ahhhh. This blog is near and dear to my heart, as it's author is one of my best friends and my most favorite person in the world, just because she is the only person I can reveal my true horrible self to and she doesn't judge me. We love to be terrible human beings together.

Anyway, this has got to be one of my favorite blogs to follow, just because it's so darn hilarious. This post in particular is my favorite, and as a result of reading it, I will never look at Thanksgiving the same way ever again. The namesake of the blog comes from this post, which is absolutely hysterical and 100 percent true. College is no joke, and if you want to survive it, this blog is essential. Seriously. I cannot impress upon you how much you need to read this.

This blog is fairly new, so it needs time to grow and for the author to develop her writing style. BUT it is still one of the funniest things I've ever read, and I can't wait to see what kind of stuff she posts next. I definitely give this blog a supermegafoxyawesomehot on a scale of 1-10.

And any of you who don't know that reference should just go die.

Check out the Rules Of College here-


It's Just Jordan

Another blog that is dear to me. The author, Jordan, is a special friend of mine from my old high school drama club days, and we still keep in touch pretty regularly. He is the one who dubbed me with my drama club nickname, "McLovin", and I, in return started calling him "McNugget".

We're a pretty fierce pair. Especially when it comes to bashing my ex boyfriends and wishing they had testicular cancer.

Anyway, his blog is an interesting and humorous insight into the life of a regular high school theater geek.  His blog is close to mine in nature in that Jordan pulls from his real-life experiences to write funny posts. This post reminds me so much of myself it's hilarious. I started laughing as soon as I saw the title. "I Hate Everything". It's just such an accurate description of how I felt about high school in general. I love this post as well, just because it randomly, creepily mentions how awesome I am. Thanks, Jordan. :)

Overall, if you want to see what life in high school is like these days for us thespians, this is definitely the blog for you to follow. Witty, humorous, and brutal honesty about the hardships of high school life. Jordan, I love how your blog has evolved over the years and I'm so proud of you!!!!

Guys, I command you to go check out his blog here-



This blog is new to me, and so I spent quite a while checking it out before I wrote this post about it. It is a new blog (There seem to be a LOT of new blogs lately. Hooray for new blogging friends!!! ALL OF YOU SHOULD START BLOGS!!!! Except not really, because then that's more competition for me...) and so there are few posts for me to get a feel of what the blog is about. The title pretty much sums it up- Life. Like the previous blog, It's Just Jordan, this blog is a look into high school life, only this time from the perspective of a girl. Who also happens to be a band geek. Bravo. :)

The author hands out valuable life advice in this blog. Advice on relationships, bullying, and just about how to survive the suckishness of Mondays. The blog, like I said, is new, and I feel like the writing could use a little more developing as far as style and presentation. But overall, it has ENDLESS possibilities and I am excited to see how it evolves with the author. I give it a ten! Especially on the post that tells you if life hands you lemons, squirt them in people's eyes. The mental images here are hysterical.

Give this blog a read by going to the following link-

BLOG NUMBER SIX (And thank God, it's the last one. My fingers are starting to cramp.)

Kingdom Rejuvination

Another new blog, but one I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT TAKE MY EYES OFF OF. Seriously guys, this blog is full of truths that so many Christians are finding hard to face these days. I can't stop reading it. It's so wonderful I can't even pick a post I want to feature on this review. All I can do is tell you to get off your lazy butts and go read it, and hope you OBEY.

I love the hardheaded and honest way the author looks at controversial Christian issues and gives her honest opinion on them. I love the writing style. I love the presentation of the posts. I love the author, too :) I highly, HIGHLY recommend you read it. And I'm sorry I can't write more on it, but I don't want to risk repeating myself over and over, going "OHMYGAH IT'S AWESOME GO READ IT NOW", because I'm pretty sure that's all it would be. So just read it.


That's all for the blog review guys. I'll post again on Friday. I have a feeling this post will involve pie.....


Thursday, June 28, 2012

Winn Dixie, Kissing, and Why College is Awesome.

Hey guys. Due to the highly frustrating responses on the facebook page for the blog, I am writing on three different topics today. So today's post is split into three parts. Sorry for the spazzyness of it all, but it's really all your fault. Oh, and here's the link to the facebook page in case you are a loser and haven't already liked it.  


 ~I Am Apparently a Rain Goddess~

So, I've officially been working at Winn Dixie (Actually, technically we're Winn Dixie/Bi-Low now, as they told me FIVE MILLION TIMES at my training, since we merged with another company) for about a month and a half now. I thought to myself at the beginning of summer, "Oh, getting a job will be fun. I'll make money and feel independent. This will be great."

Little did I know the horrors in store for me.

First of all, I would just like to say that working a register during the five o'clock rush of people coming home from work is pretty much the equivalent to being dropped into the middle of a Star Trek convention and you're William Shatner. In a nutshell, HELL ON EARTH. Also, like everyone is trying to get your attention and talk to you and tell you what to do all at the same time.

But you know the worst part? It's not the five o'clock rush, or the aching feet, or the less-than-welcoming management staff.


I'm pretty much totally convinced now that Satan created coupons especially for me, to punish me for all the bad things I've ever done. I swear, some of these women come through the line and at the end of the transaction they literally will pull out BINDERS full of coupons. And it wouldn't be so bad, except since Winn-Dixie COMPLETELY SUCKS, they don't register all the coupons in the system. So the vast majority of them REFUSE to scan. And then you have to squint super hard at all the little numbers and type in the coupon code manually. When this happens multiple times in a row, the little Coupon Queens get mad and they get all like, "Can you hurry this up?? I have kids to pick up from soccer practice." And I just want to be like, "Um, ma'am? Calm yourself. I have no problem whatsoever going all YOLO on you, throwing your coupons in your FACE, and running out of the store yelling obscenities."But obviously I can't do that, so I just have to be sweet and smiley and go, "I'm sorry, ma'am. I will certainly try to speed things up."


Also, customers seem to have a nasty habit of blaming me personally for all their problems. I had a lady come in last week, looking very agitated. She was sighing heavily and scowling at the tomatoes I was scanning like they had offended her in some way. Then she glares at me and goes, "It's RAINING." I was just like...."....Yes. It certainly is." She then gets extremely hissy and goes, "My son's BIRTHDAY PARTY was supposed to be today. It as a POOL PARTY. And now it's ruined. Because it's RAINING." At this point I was entirely fed up with her attitude and said as sweetly and sincerely as I could, "Would you like me to come to your house and hold a giant umbrella over your pool for you?" If looks could kill, I wouldn't be writing this right now, because she gave me the kinda stink eye I usually reserve for lawyers and republicans, and proceeded to storm out of the store. I was all, "Whatever. I charged you for Roma tomatoes instead of vine tomatoes. You had to pay three cents extra."

It's the little revenges that are the most satisfying.


~My First Kiss Went a Little Like This.......~

Alright, I need to set the whole scene for this before I tell you about the actual kiss. Mostly for MY benefit instead of yours, because I need to remind myself exactly what happened. It's a little fuzzy. But give me a break. It was like three years ago.


So, I was a Junior in high school. At this point in my life, I was a HUGE band nerd (still am.). I had been dating this guy (For the sake of protecting his identity, we shall call him "Previous Boyfriend" in this post) for about...a month, I think? I think it was around a month. Maybe shorter. I don't know. I'm terrible with remembering things like that. But I digress.

Anyway, this kid was a saxophone player in our band. Let's face it, everyone knows it's true, when you're a band kid, you typically date other band kids. It's just natural. Besides, saxophone players are the bomb diggity. At any rate, in spite of that, the whole relationship was rather awkward to begin with, due to several things.

1- I had never had a legit boyfriend before. So I had NO freaking idea what the crap to do with myself. How is a girlfriend supposed to act?? I STILL don't know. How I've managed to hang onto Boyfriend for almost a year I'll never know.

2- This particular guy was VERY experienced with women already, if you get my drift. Being the girl who still hadn't kissed anyone, this was just slightly intimidating. Okay, a LOT intimidating.

3- The guy ALSO had a very complicated romantic past with one of my best friends at the time, which obviously was uncomfortable for everyone involved.

4- Let's just be honest, I'm a naturally awkward individual.

With all that taken into account, I was still having trouble getting used to being someone's girlfriend. So kissing hadn't even crossed my mind. Heck, I was still trying to master the art of TALKING to him without feeling awkward.

So, a day at school came where Previous Boyferiend was acting strange. I would catch him giving me weird looks. Like, ALL DAY. And then at break, just after first period, he told me he had something for me after band practice that day.

For any of you that know me, you will already know my reaction to this statement without me telling you. For the rest of you, let me give you a little peek of what was going through my mind all day long.


I've always been paranoid when it comes to relationships. Boyfriend is always telling me to chill out and not worry so much, but it never works. I am paranoid all the time. So you can imagine what a statement like, "I have something for you after band practice", coupled with the weird looks, would do to my brain.

So, after mentally tearing myself to shreds all day, the time finally came during band practice when the drum major told us it was time to quit and go home for the day. I walked back to the bandroom, avoiding Previous Boyfriend like the plague. Mostly because I didn't want to get dumped in front of the whole band.

While I'm in the guard room getting my stuff together, a little middle school saxophone player runs in and tells me, "(Insert Name Of Previous Boyfriend Here) wants you to come to the saxophone room when you're done." and ran out. This cued my complete mental breakdown and I began to hyperventilate. I forced myself to get a grip and walked to the saxophone room. I swear I felt like I was walking the Green Mile. I get in there and Previous Boyfriend is standing there, looking very annoyed while one of my friends giggles, looking at both of us. He tells her to go away and she does, leaving us alone in the room. He tells me to close my eyes, that he has something for me. I do, and at this point my brain is going, "HOLY CRAP. This is it. He's gonna dump me. I'm probably gonna open my eyes and he's gonna be holding a huge sign that says "CONGRATS!!! YOU'RE SINGLE!!!!!" I hate myself. It's because I don't look like Natalie Portman. I should shave my head."

However, instead of a break-up sign, I hear him move towards me. And then I feel something completely foreign to me touch my lips. And then I realize they're HIS lips. And my brain does this.


He pulls back and I open my eyes. He's smiling. I kinda manage a half-smile back. Then I feel awkward. Like, what do you SAY to someone after that? "Oh hey, thanks. That was nice." So I kinda turn to walk out of the room. My original plan was to sweep gracefully out the door. What ACTUALLY happened was that I stumbled on my way out, ran INTO the door, hit my face on the doorframe, and then ran out like a retard, giggling the whole time.

So, overall, I think I handled the whole situation pretty well.

Thankfully for CURRENT Boyfriend, I have learned how to kiss people without running into doorframes and giggling. For the most part anyway. Sometimes I still giggle.

....I'm just gonna shut up now.


~Why College and High School Are Incomparable To Each Other, Because High School Sucks And College Kicks Booty~

I was a little perplexed as to how exactly approach this post. I have decided that the simplest thing to do is to make a list. So here you go. I will most likely do updates on this post, as I will probably think of more things later on.

High School- If you miss more than three days of school, you get in trouble. And your parents get called. Also, you can't be exempt from exams.
College- "Taking attendance"???? HA!!!!!!!!

High School- If the teachers can't come to class, a substitute is hired and class goes on as normal.
College- Teacher doesn't show up within the first fifteen minutes of class, you get to go home. Or to Taco Bell. Speaking of which,

High School-
Mommy makes all your food at home.

High School- "OH MY GOD, I MADE A B!!! I'M SO DUMB, I'M DROPPING OUT!!!!!!"


High School- If you even chew gum in class, you get in trouble.
College- Not only do people bring full meals to class, sometimes the professor will walk by your desk and take a bit of whatever it is you're eating. It's good to find out what foods your professors DON'T like, that way you can eat it in class and they won't steal it. For instance, never bring Cadbury Eggs to Religion classes with Dr. Eggleston at Huntingdon. You will not get to eat any of them. But you are perfectly safe bringing them to Dr. Albritton's class. The only thing he likes to steal are Cheetos.

High School- Come to class fully dressed, looking clean and presentable.
College- Roll out of bed. Grab a box of Poptarts. Come to class as you are. Seriously. I went to class one day on accident without a bra.

High School- Fire drills are no big deal. They are even welcomed, because it means you get out of class for a few minutes.
College- Fire drills are still no big deal. Unless you happen to be me, in which case they seem to occur EVERY TIME I DECIDE TO TAKE A SHOWER. If I have to walk outside my dorm ONE MORE TIME wearing just a towel, I'll be upset.

High School- Freshmen guys hit on the senior girls.
College- Senior guys hit on the freshmen girls.

High School- "Failed a test, no big deal. There will be plenty more. I can bring it up."
College- "FAILED A TEST, MY LIFE IS OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!"

High School- "Disney movies?? Nah, I wanna watch Saw. Disney is for babies."
College- "( one person in a room)-LET'S GET DOWN TO BUSINESSSSSS!!!!!" (Everyone else)-  "TO DEFEATTTTT, THE HUNS!!!!!!!!!"

High School- Ask you parent for money, they give you five bucks- "What?? I can't buy ANYTHING with five dollars!!!!"

This is all I can come up with right now. There are lots more, but my brain hurts. Also I'm hungry. Time for Family Guy and FOOD.

Don't forget to like my facebook page, guys!!!! Bye :)

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

If there's anyone out there that loves me...

You guys.


WHY AM I UP?!?!?!?!?

But seriously though, I'm pretty sure I'm delirious right now. But it's not my fault. I worked from 3 to 11 today and besides the fact that my feet are KILLING ME, I had to deal with some serious weirdos today. Like for instance, I had a man come through my line earlier and made me check EVERYTHING HE BOUGHT to make sure it wasn't made in China. He kept shouting at me, "CHINA NO GOOD!!! CHINA SUCK!!! NO CHINESE PRODUCTS!!!!" Yet, when I asked where he hailed from, you wanna know where he was from? Huh? Ya wanna know?


A Chinese man who was prejudiced against Chinese products came through my line.

AND he yelled at me when I accidentally rang up a razor that was made in Germany, which is apparently almost as bad as China, and threw it across the store.

I don't even know how to handle people sometimes.

So I came home and decided to make myself feel better by going online to various websites that I like, and looking at all the things I can't afford to buy but would love to have anyway.

And I kept coming back to THIS.

Oh my god, you guys. It might just be the fact that it's 4 AM and I'm hopelessly tired, had a freaking terrible day, miss Boyfriend a lot (he's currently working hard at Spirit Camp at Huntingdon with a bunch of band kids), or a combination of all these things that is making my brain not function correctly, but for some reason I am literally OBSESSED with this thing. I WANT IT. And I'm not usually obsessive when it comes to, you know, fashion or jewelry. I wear whatever is convenient. But THIS RING. I NEED IT. So for all of you people that love me out there and want me to have a token of, I don't know, our beautiful friendship, or how deeply you love me, or just because you decided today to randomly grant someone one wish, you should buy me this. All of you should buy me one. And then I can have one on each finger. I wear a size nine in rings. And for my toes too. I don't know what size toe ring I wear. But whatever.You can all start a fundraiser for it and buy it collectively to show your appreciation for me keeping you entertained with my blog.

And if you don't, I shall simply go buy it myself. It will be a present to me from me for being me. I like it because the knot is so representative of my confusing and complicated life. And since I have a job where I get paid to put up with self-hating Chinese people, I can afford to buy myself things now.


That was unnecessary. I apologize. My only defense is that I'm overly exhausted and I need sleep. Badly.

Why did I even write this post? I didn't plan on writing again till Thursday. Now I've gone and ruined my writing schedule.

Whatever. Imma go eat a donut. And watch Family Guy.


Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Disney animals are a lie.

Can someone please remind me why I thought summer was so great in high school? Please, tell me. Because I have recently come to the realization that summer is an abomination that Satan created just to suck the life out of me, bore me, and separate me from my friends.

Alright, so maybe my dramatic side is kicking in just a little. But seriously. With the exception of the one fabulous week I spent with Boyfriend, Boyfriend's Mom, and Boyfriend's Grandma at the beach, this has been one long summer of blahhhhhh.

Speaking of the beach with Boyfriend, let me tell you a story about raccoons.

So, the house we stayed at was on a beautiful beach called Cape San Blas. There was barely anyone there, the water was clear and gorgeous, and the house was awesome. Here's the first thing I saw when we pulled up.

Due to the fact that Boyfriend thought it would be funny to tell me that we were staying in a place where the only thing I would be seeing out my window was sludgy gross pollution water, I was twice as excited as I would have normally been. I was in a room that had an equally breathtaking view and I couldn't believe how lucky I was to be there. (I also couldn't believe I didn't have to pay to be there. Boyfriend's family just invited me to tag along. I knew he was a keeper.)

Anyway, maybe the third day we were there, I was lying in bed playing Pokemon on Boyfriend's DS (He mistakenly introduced me to the utter joy that is Pokemon and I have now stolen said DS and have no intention of giving it back anytime soon) and he was playing some game on his PS3 (Or he may have been watching My Little Pony. I'm not sure.) when he was called out of the room by his mom and grandma. I ignored what was going on because I was busy kicking butt with my level 55 Blaziken. I vaguely caught the words "animal control" coming up from the bottom floor of the house, but like I said, I was busy kicking some gym leader's sorry behind.

Some time later, I went outside to go take a walk on the beach. On my way, I noticed a cage right beside the stairs leading down to the sand. And in the cage was a raccoon. It was all curled up in the corner of the cage and looked very sad. I went back upstairs where Boyfriend was still playing on his PS3 (Or watching My Little Pony. Like I said, it's hard to distinguish with him sometimes and I never really pay attention to what he's doing unless it involves me) and said, "There's a RACCOON downstairs." Boyfriend's response- "Yeah?"  I could tell I wasn't gonna get a good conversation out of him because he was engrossed with his game or his ponies or whatever the heck it was he was doing. So I went back downstairs, got a piece of bread from the kitchen, and tossed it to the poor raccoon on my way to the beach.

I had managed to forget all about the poor animal, until later that day when Boyfriend and I got back from going out for lunch. Unfortunately for us, Boyfriend's Mom and Boyfriend's Grandma had the keys to the house and they were out looking at the state park that was down the road. Also unfortunately for us, it was raining. Hard. So, we hung around in the little parking area under the stairs for a little while when I suddenly remembered the raccoon. I ran to where it's cage was, and saw something like this-

Or, at least, that's what I thought it looked like. The poor thing was all huddled in the corner of the cage. It looked very sad, very pathetic, very soaked by the cold rain, and very much like a Disney animal from Bambi or something that someone had trapped and tortured. I ran back to Boyfriend.

Me- "It's all cold. And wet. And in the RAIN."

Boyfriend-"I'm sure it's fine."

Me- "Well aren't you gonna DO anything?!?!"

Boyfriend- "Myra, it's a wild animal. I'm sure it's used to the rain. It rains in the wild all the time. Trust me, it's fine."

Me- "But it's COLD. And it's trapped in that cage!!"

Boyfriend-"Well, there's really nothing we can do about it."

Me-"......Well....SOMEONE should let it go."

Boyfriend- "You are NOT letting that thing go. It might turn on you and attack you as soon as it gets out of that cage. Don't touch it."

Me- "No it won't!!! It will be grateful I saved it and run away!"

Boyfriend-"No. You aren't letting it out."

At this point, I decided Boyfriend has a heart of stone when it comes to poor trapped woodland animals, and I had to take matters into my own hands. I started to walk over to where the cage sat.

Boyfriend- "What do you think you're doing?"

Me- "If you won't let me set it free, I'm at LEAST going to push the cage out of the rain."

I approached the cage and leaned down to put my hands on it. All of a sudden, the pathetic adorable Disney animal went from this-


It jumped at me big big scary claws that it had cleverly disguised as cute fluffy paws. I screamed like a five year old girl, guys. No lie. And then, I became indignant at the fact that I was trying to rescue this animal from the rain and it was rewarding me with scaring the ever-loving CRAP out of me.

It became a back-and forth act of me gingerly trying to pull the cage out of the rain, and the raccoon trying to murder me with its deceptively lethal teeth and claws. At this point, I became so fed up with the entire situation and the raccoon not appreciating my efforts, I began to kick the cage instead of pull it with my hands. Boyfriend was laughing the whole time, which I suppose is understandable, because if someone had happened to walk by, they would have seen a soaking wet teenage girl kicking a caged raccoon, who was consequently hissing and trying to bite and claw her through the cage, while she yells at it, "I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU!!! STOP ATTEMPTING TO HURT ME!!! STOP IT!!! I'M TRYING TO GET YOU OUT OF THE RAIN, STUPID!!!!!"

Eventually, I kicked the cage far enough under the awning so that the rain wasn't directly hitting the cage. However, there was still rain falling through the cracks of the deck up above, so I did the obvious thing. I retrieved a boogie board from the nearby closet or beach toys, and leaned it on the front of the cage. I then took the welcome mat from the side door to the house and laid it on top of the cage (All while the raccoon was still trying to make a meal out of my fingers), thus creating a little hut-like structure that would effectively keep out the rain. Or so I thought.

Feeling pretty pleased with myself, I went to where Boyfriend was sitting at the front door (I guess he had gotten tired of watching me kick the cage) and sat with him. We sat talking for a minute or two, when I heard a scratching sound and then a thud from back where the cage was. I went to look, and the stupid thing had reached through the cage with it's paw and knocked the boogie board over. I put it back up against the cage. He knocked it over again. I put it back. He reached out and pushed it over. I replaced it one more time, and he knocked it down yet again.

I had had enough. I yelled, "FINE!!!!!! STAY IN THE STUPID RAIN!! I DON'T EVEN CARE!!!!" And stomped back over to where Boyfriend was. He had the good sense not to laugh at me.A wise decision. I would have taken that caged raccoon and thrown it at his head.

Anyway, the next day I went out to tell the raccoon I was sorry for yelling at it and to give it some food, but the cage was open and the raccoon was inexplicably gone. I assume someone took pity on it and let it go.

I'll bet whoever it was doesn't have a face anymore. This is one of those times when I'm really glad I listened to Boyfriend. If the thing tried to eat my fingers while I was merely trying to get it out of the rain, I can't imagine what would have happened if I had tried to free it.

So, I guess the moral of the story here is, don't try to save caged raccoons from the rain, because you'll end up being lucky to have all your fingers by the end of it, your good hair day will get ruined by the stupid rain, and your boyfriend will think you're some psychotic raccoon activist.

Monday, May 7, 2012


So, my freshman year of college is over. Ever since I came home for the summer last week, all I've been able to do is sit around and mourn how fast my life is passing. It's really quite pathetic.

All through the school year, all I could do was talk about how I couldn't wait for summer. And now I'm just like...

I was lying prostrate on the couch the other day, desperately trying to relate to my mother the seriousness of my boredom. I tried to tell her that my brain was going to melt out of my ears. I tried to tell her that I was going to sit on the couch all summer eating potato chips and watching Maury until I had gained 700 pounds and couldn't go back to college in the fall. I tried to tell her that my brain was eventually going to bust a mainspring from lack of stimulation, and she would come home from work one day to find me lying on the floor surrounded by cans of unopened SPAM and yelling "IF YOU FRY IT, THEY WILL COME!!!"  But my mother is apparently lacking in all maternal instincts and merely snapped that I had only been home a week and there was no way I could be that bored. Clearly, she has never been nineteen without a job.

Speaking of which, a job is hard to find. Did you know that? I didn't know that until I started trying to find a summer job. Even McDonald's hasn't called me back. I will be the only college student this summer sitting at home, with NO job, eating potato chips and watching Maury, surrounded by SPAM with my brain melting out my ears. Eventually, my body is going to fuse with the sofa. We will become one. I am sure of it.

So what HAVE I been doing with my summer, do you ask?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I have been home exactly one week and I already want to go back to school.
I literally sat in front of my laptop for an hour, staring at my blog, trying to figure out what to write about. I thought it was a little redundant to write about my lack of things to write about. But Boyfriend said it would be interesting. Like Blog-ception. Hence the post title.

The most productive thing I've done this summer so far was to find this website. I've sat here for literally half an hour listening to this over and over, dying of laughter. It's not even that funny. And admittedly, the lack of attention to grammar and spelling does irk me. But if I just listen instead of looking at the screen, it's okay.

Go and listen and laugh. It will make your life better.

Anyway, I have some extremely important episodes of Dr. Phil to catch up on. So I have to go now. But I feel like this is a weird way to end this post, so here's a picture that makes me laugh.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Adventures in Drug Busts and Sexual Harassment

I'm not good at following directions.

Which is the first thing you have to understand about me to get the story I am about to relate. Seriously, I am one of the most directionally challenged people alive. My brain is all like,

"Oh, the directions say to go left? Well, we'd better turn right instead, because obviously this whole "turn left" business is just a giant plot to get us lost."

Which is usually how I end up hopelessly lost.

Which is EXACTLY what happened to me last Friday.

So, as an English Lit. major trying to get my teaching certificate, it is required for me to have a certain amount of observation hours in a school setting. This semester, I was assigned to Booker T. Washington Magnet High School. This particular school happens to be about two minutes away from Huntingdon and it takes all of two turns to get there. But somehow, I still managed to end up on the interstate going in the OPPOSITE direction of where I needed to go.

So there I was, driving along the interstate in the general direction of Georgia, screaming at my car for getting me lost, when I see a sign that has a familiar road name on it. I turn to find myself in a really swanky suburb. I'm talking high class, people. I saw a woman walking her dog while wearing high heels and what looked like a cocktail dress. Like, "Oh no, I have to go outside. I'd better dress like I'm going to the Oscars. If someone saw me in jeans they might think I was middle class, and I can't have that."

Anyway, I pull up in the driveway of one of the houses that has a woman sitting on the front porch. I tell her how lost I am, and ask for directions, which she is happy to give.

Unfortunately, as we already discussed, I am utterly incapable of following those. It's like I'm trying to decipher ancient hieroglyphics.

So, about thirty minutes later, I am again completely lost and not only screaming at my poor car, but also at the cars passing me.




Things went on in this fashion for a while, until I decided I could no longer go on. I pulled over to the first patch of grass I saw, got out of my car, and sat down, high heels and fancy dress and all, in the grass, and sobbed hysterically like a little 5 year-old. Suddenly I hear a voice say, "Do you want some lemonade, dearie?" I look up from my self-pity fest to see a kind looking woman in her seventies. I wail that I don't want lemonade. I want my mother and also I want directions. This poor old woman takes me inside her house (apparently I was sitting in her front yard) and gives me lemonade anyway. In retrospect, drinking it was probably a bad idea, because she totally could have been a rapist, even though she seemed nice. Anyway, she called the operator and got me directions yet again, waited for my hysterics to subside, and sent me off.

Well, we all know what happened.

Twenty minutes later, I am yet again lost. Except this time I'm afraid to pull over anywhere because I have somehow landed myself in the straight- up ghetto. We're talking the PROJECTS, people. I was afraid I would get shot if I pulled over. However, while trying to find a place to turn around, I see a group of police cars parked in front of one particularly shabby looking house. My mind, of course, goes "YAAAAAAY POLICE!!!! POLICE OFFICERS CAN GIVE ME DIRECTIONS AND KEEP ME FROM GETTING SHOT!!!"

So, I pull over, and get out of my car. I teeter totter my way over to the police officers in my little high heels, while saying, "Hello! I need assistance!! I'm lost! Can you help me?"
One of the officers turns to me to say something, but at that same moment MORE officers burst out of the house, holding a struggling man. It is at this point that I realize, I have interrupted a drug bust.

I watch in shock as this man is dragged to one of the squad cars, stuffed into the backseat, and taken away. The other officers follow.

I am left standing in the front yard of this drug-busted house, alone in my high heels.

I slowly turn and walk back to my car.

I drive until I see a semi-respectable looking Firestone Auto Shop, pull in the parking lot, call a friend to come save me, and promptly have a mental breakdown. By the time my friend got there to rescue me, I was huddled in my car in a sobbing, twitchy mess.

To make things worse, my car was now on empty. So we made our way to a gas station down the street. As I am waiting outside the gas station while my friend pays for the gas, a rather older man comes to stand next to me. I decide to pretend he isn't there until he goes, "Hey." I look over and decide if he was going to stab, kidnap, and/or murder me, he would have done it already, and tentatively answer, "Hello." He gives me quite possibly the creepiest look I have ever received in my life, looks me down, and goes, "Those are some nice legs you've got there, girlie."

I stand there dumbfounded until my friend comes out of the gas station and pulls me away from the creeper. I get back in my car, zombielike, and follow my friend back to campus. By this time, I have completely missed my observation hours, I have taken lemonade from a possible old woman rapist, I have successfully interrupted a drug bust, and I have been sexually harassed at a gas station.

It's all I can do to crawl in my bed.

This was four days ago, and I am still in shock. I fail to understand how I evaded getting kidnapped, raped, murdered, or at the very least sold into prostitution. God must really, really like me.

I seriously need to invest in a GPS.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

The Boyfriend Handbook

So, it's three AM and I get a text from Boyfriend asking me if I'm still awake. Normally this would tick off most girlfriends, but since Boyfriend apparently knows me pretty well, he knows I am basically nocturnal and never sleep. Mostly because at every moment of nighttime I'm too busy being paranoid that there is a crazed serial killer/rapist/one of those things from The Hills Have Eyes hiding under my bed or in my closet waiting to attack to be able to sleep. I'm actually pretty positive that I'm doomed to die at the hands of that little girl from Case 39, or The Orphan. This is why cute children are the scariest things ever.

Anyway, I text him back telling him I'm still awake and he informs me that he is about to go hunting.

I told him I was pretty sure hunting season was over. But apparently breaking the law doesn't matter to Boyfriend because he responded by asking me if I was going with him to one of his mandatory recitals at 3 PM. (He's a music major at Huntingdon, and they are required to attend a certain number of recitals per semester.) To which I asked, "3 PM tomorrow?" Which to me was an entirely valid question, but Boyfriend decided to be all sarcastic and say, "No. Today. You know, Sunday?" And I was all, "That's what I meant, smarty pants. Everyone knows it doesn't officially count as tomorrow until you can see daylight."

Which is totally and completely true, and I don't see why this concept was so hard for him. But apparently it was, because he decided not to respond to me. Of course, it was now 3:30 AM, and I was not happy with this. I was awake and needed someone to talk to. So I sent this.


And Boyfriend thought THIS was an acceptable reply.

BOYFRIEND- "I'm effing hungry."

This, obviously, was not the reply I was looking for at all, so I told him he was not only a complete failure at entertaining me, but that him being hungry was no news to me. Because Boyfriend is ALWAYS hungry. I then told him he was now the inspiration for my latest blog post, which was to be entirely focused on the rules of being a boyfriend (namely being there for my personal entertainment) and that he had to read it. And when he said nope, I responded by saying that one of the rules was that he had to read the rules. And since he hasn't replied to that yet, I can only assume I have stumped him with my brilliant rule-ception and that he had succumbed to my authority.

So, anyway, here is my incomplete list of Rules For Being a Good Boyfriend.


  1. You must read the rules. No exceptions.
  2. If I am awake at completely indecent hours of the morning, it is YOUR job to stay awake and entertain me with humorous text messages and witty anecdotes. If you fail at this then I reserve the right to send you the following emoticons- :( :'( >:( and if I'm really mad, D:<
  3. You must bring me food when I'm on my period. The only thing that doesn't make me feel like my uterus is going to fall out and then proceed to beat up the rest of my body is sugar. Like chocolate. And donuts.
  4. You must listen to all my pointless ranting and raving about how stupid everyone in the world is, and how much more fabulous I am in comparison. And you must agree.
  5. If I ask you if you think another girl is cute, then you must respond by telling me that compared to me, every other girl looks like that police woman chick in Silent Hill after she got burned by those creepy bible-bangers because they thought she was a witch.
  6. You are most definitely NOT allowed to pass gas in my presence. I hereby consider it a sin and if you do not comply with this rule, I reserve the right to attack you violently with air freshener and perfume AND you will be forced to sit in time-out to think about what you have done.
  7. You may NOT stop right in the middle of a kiss to check your cell phone if you get a text message. I guarantee you that the world is not going to implode if you don't text back immediately.
  8. If I am complaining to you about how another girl was rude, hurtful, or otherwise a complete butthead to me, it is your obligation as Boyfriend to verbally bash her in every way you know how. Refer to Rule #4.
  9. I'm the girl. You're the boy. If you don't text first, we don't talk today. End of story.
  10. Expanding on Rule#9, it is your responsibility to at least say "hi" to me every few hours. Call it paranoid, and not every girl will admit to it, but when a girl doesn't hear from her boyfriend for more than a few hours, he following things creep into her mind- "He's cheating on me", "He hates me", "He's mad at me", "He died in a car wreck", "He's running away to Vegas with both of the Olsen Twins". So yeah. Unless you want a paranoid wreck of a girlfriend, a text every four or five hours is appreciated.
  11. YOU MUST LAUGH AT ALL MY JOKES. I don't care if you don't think they're funny. If I have to listen to you talk about Modern Warfare 3 and Skyrim, you can at least do me the courtesy of pretending you appreciate what an advanced sense of humor I have and what a hilarious GENIUS I am, dangit.
Anyway, this list of rules is incomplete, but I'm sure I'll be expanding upon them in the future. But right now since it's 5 AM, I'm pretty sure sleeping would be a great idea. It's definitely safe to sleep now. No one ever gets brutally murdered during the daytime.

UPDATE- 2/25/12

I have now come up with Rule #12- You are not allowed to antagonize me while I am ill. It's like shooting fish in a barrel and it makes me irritated. Furthermore, when I tell you I'm pretty sure I'm gonna die, and at my funeral it is your moral obligation to cry and act pathetic and tell people how awesome I was, the proper response is "Of course I will, and I will also put together a slideshow of all your best facebook profile profile pictures to the song "I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing" because that will make everyone cry like babies."

Friday, January 20, 2012

Forts, Barbara Streisand, and Boyfriend.

So today was an in-service day for my school. Which, obviously, meant only one thing last night.

Yesterday, as soon as we were all out of classes, me and my friends ran around excitedly, yelling about how we didn't have class tomorrow and we were gonna party ALL. NIGHT. LONG.
So, of course, we did what any average college students do when they party.
Alcohol? No.
Drugs? No.
Building a fort out of our mattresses and bedframes?

We proceeded to turn the dorm room into a magical fort of girlyness and wonder that rivaled all other forts. Seriously. It was the fort of all forts. Eight of us piled in and proceeded to "party". Which, to us, involved playing Apples to Apples, Are You a Werewolf (in which I was the werewolf a total of one time and was BEAST at it- I killed EVERYONE without getting caught. ....Metaphorically, of course.) , and MASH- which I refused to take part in because I am irrationally superstitious, but it's hilarious to find out who's going to end up married to Hugh Jackman, or have a future career as Conan O' Brian's personal groomer. Of course, the whole "no class tomorrow" ordeal led to us staying awake until ridiculously late hours- 4 AM, to be exact. I felt kinda like this.

So, needless to say, I slept for a good thirteen hours straight. I didn't wake up until around 5:30 PM. I felt kinda like this. I was informed by a friend of mine that when you sleep for more than nine hours, it doesn't count as sleep anymore, and I was told that the feat I had accomplished (sleeping for thirteen+ hours) was classified as hibernation.

So. Moving on.

Random fact about me- When I sleep during the day, I have ridiculously vivid dreams. It's pretty much the most awesome thing ever. It's like having movies on demand behind my eyelids. Except I can't really choose what I want to see. But whatever. It's still cool.

Anyway, I was in the middle of having, like, the best dream EVER. I don't know how it happened, but I had suddenly morphed into Barbara Streisand and I was singing that one song from Funny Girl that goes "I'd rather be blueeeeeeee, thinking of youuuuuu, I'd rather be blueeeee over youuuu, than be happyyyyyyy with someeeeebooodddyyy ellsseeeeee........." And I was totally rocking it. Like forreal. People in the crowd were sobbing over the heartbreaking beauty of my voice, when all of a sudden the loud, irritating sound of my Jason Derulo ringtone breaks into my fantasy dreamland and wakes me up. Needless to say, I was upset that my performance was over. I reached over groggily to pick up my phone. I had a text message from Boyfriend. The conversation that followed went like this.

BOYFRIEND- "Hey! What are you doing?"

ME- "I'm laying in bed."

BOYFRIEND- "You should write more of your book so you can finish it and make me a copy :)"

ME- "I'm too lazy to get out of bed and get my laptop..."

BOYFRIEND-"You just gonna sleep all day?"

ME- "Um no. At five I totally intend to go eat dinner."

BOYFRIEND-"That sounds boring."

ME- "Nope. Because when I sleep during the day I have super awesome dreams." (Which he had so rudely interrupted.)

At this point, Boyfriend cleverly (and sadistically) waited about an hour, enough time for me to fall back asleep and start dreaming about being a heroine in a gas station that was held up by the bad weasel guys from "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?". And THEN sent me the following text.

BOYFRIEND- "Don't fall asleep!!!!"

To which I responded-

"WHY?!??! >:(" Not "why" as in "why should I not fall asleep" but "why" as in "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME YOU TWISTED BUTTHEAD??"

Then he said-

"Did I wake you up?"

ME- "YES."

BOYFRIEND- "Awesome :)"

ME- "I'm turning my phone on silent."

This is just the kind of relationship we have.

Anyway, unable to go back to sleep, I decided to go with my friends to the lobby of our dorm and watch Rent. Which is what I'm doing right this moment and why I must end this post because it's hard to blog and sing along at the same time.

Bye!!!! :D