Male Pattern Baldness

My blog is slacking. I have nothing funny or demeaning to write about. Want to know why? Because I'm going bald. That's right, bald. Like, Britney Spears gone crazy and shaves her head bald, bald. (That could possibly be a little dramatic.)

I have no idea why, but about three weeks ago, I noticed the part on my head looked like the gap between Madonna’s two front teeth, and of course, my ever so loving mom, had to point it out and laugh. Mom: "Holy crap Meg! When did your part become so wide?" Me: "I dunno mom, probably about the same time my a** did!" Thanks for always pointing out my flaws so lovingly, mom. One day I’ll tell the story of the time I got Bell’s Palsy and my mom just laughed at me while half my face was paralyzed.

If you ever learn anything from me, (which you probably won't) at least remember this; when something is wrong with you, DO NOT GOOGLE YOUR SYMPTOMS!!! At this point, I'm convinced I have a problem with my thyroid, I’m in stage two kidney failure, pregnant, stressed, in shock, just had a baby, recovering from a major surgery, and have syphilis.

I got about 5 vials of blood drawn today. I know that's nothing, but when you're a wimp like me, it's a big deal. There are a few symptoms I can cross off my list. Pregnancy (no explanation needed) I'm pretty sure I didn't have a baby any time in the past 7 years, no surgery since the back in 2010, and STD free for 28 years. I can’t really rule out kidney failure, we all know I consume more diet coke in a day than the cast of Jersey Shore does vodka. So I'm assuming it’s my thyroid, or stress. I've decided to send my Dr. a bill for this one since I did all the research!

Dear Women, please read.

I’d like to thank women everywhere for getting rid of the feathers in the hair trend so quickly. I was worried it would stay and I’d have to keep complaining about it. For those who haven’t gotten the memo they’re out… well God Bless You. Now, would it kill you guys to STOP with the close up self-taken portraits? Maybe limit them to 2 a year? (I have to throw the 2 a year out there because every once in a while I need a new profile pic to keep everyone up to date on my hair color and  I don’t  want people calling me a hypocrite.) I don’t think it’s too much to ask. I don’t need to see your EVERY outfit or a pic of you every time you go to the gym, the pool, or the grocery store, the bathroom etc.  When we were growing up, I did just find only seeing your face in our yearbook once a year. This is still ok, 10 years later.  

Maybe I’m jealous of some of your petite little bodies and fake boobs. I’d like to say I’m pretty average, I’m no Calista Flockhart, but I sure as hell am no Oprah- pre Dr. Oz.  In reality, just about ANYONE can look like a size 2 with the right angle and mirror to cut out the fat. You’re kind of not fooling anyone.  

I’m a girl. (In case some of you didn’t know.) So I get it. There are times I’ve gotten ready and looked in the mirror and thought, “damn girl! You look good!” Granted, these are times that happen few and far in between. But, they’ve happened. However, you know what I didn’t have to do? Take a picture of myself with my phone in the mirror and post it on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram to get the validation from the 41 Likes and 23 retweets to know that I pulled off the perfect hair and eye shadow combo for the day.

And for some people, I can’t help but sing a little Carly Simon every time you make a post. You’re so Vain that you probably think this blog is about you!  Sure I could delete some of these people, but then really…. What would I have as entertainment?

Please send money…. (This has to work at some point right?)

Meg

Brady Von Pooplestein

I follow my cousin’s blog. It’s alright I guess. If you have nothing better to do, you can check it out….. http://thesongsstuckinmyhead.blogspot.com/  I noticed his profile was a little short. I had the opportunity (if you can call it that) to work with him for about a year, during this time, I learned more about Brady than I ever wanted to know. I think it’s only fitting I release the first edition of his profile for his blog. As of now, his profile says the following; “I love Hi-Chew candy. I have a scar on the side of my head. My mom thinks I'm cool. I once played Nintendo for 27 hours straight. I'm an Aires. I'm a little bit "meh" about long walks on the beach.”

This was what he’d originally written, I love watching reruns of Silver Spoons and Who’s the Boss at 1:00 in the morning. My favorite color is poop yellow-brown. My favorite Golden Girl was Blanche, because she’s dead sexy. When I’m not blogging I’m searching for jobs as a Domino’s Pizza Delivery man. I’m in the middle of starting my own reality show called “What to do after your Theater Degree fails to get you anywhere in life.”  The first episode will show me walking into the homeless shelter and introducing myself as Chuck Norris and the people believing it because they don’t know any better due to living on the street. Many homeless people have experienced happiness because they believe they have met a real celebrity and gotten a body part autographed by him. I secretly stalk Ben Folds and send him love letters sprayed with Lemon Pledge then folded into the shape of a heart. I am currently going through a 12 step program for my addiction to glow worms. Step 1 is my favorite; “I admit I am powerless over my addiction to glow worms, I recognize my life has become unmanageable because of this.” My all-time favorite girl band is Wilson Phillips, their song “Release Me” changed my life and I will forever hold on for one more day because of them. My mom suffered 37 hours of labor with me because my head is so big; this caused my right thumb to be slightly shorter than my left. We call this thumb Deb and I inject it with growth hormones once a day hoping it will grow to the size of a normal thumb. It is my goal in life to help my favorite cousin Meghann get on the Ellen Show or meet Justin Bieber.

There are a couple things I had to edit out because Brady went a little R-Rated on us, and my blog is a family blog. I’m happy I’ve gotten this off my chest because the world needs to know of his real aspirations as well as his struggles in life.  

Thanks for reading, please send money.

Meg

Making your way in the world today, takes everything you've got!

I was called a hypocrite this morning for not being on top of my panhandling… I guess it’s time to post something meaningless again and end with a plea for money or a spot on the Ellen show as usual.  One day this will work out for me, right? Probably not.

I was trying to think of something that had been driving me crazy lately because that’s usually what my posts are about. But legally, I can’t talk about the “thing” bothering me most because of what is stated in my divorce decree about not “degrading” my ex spouse in public. So I’ll talk about the second thing bothering me these days.

90% of the time, I stop by Maverick in the morning on my way to work or wherever I’m going for the day.  It’s a rare occasion I miss that stop because it’s imperative I drink 44 ounces of Diet Coke before doing anything productive for the day. (I know it’s probably a stretch to say that anything I ever do is productive.)  

The same people work there every morning, the old crew use to be like family to me. It was like walking in to Cheers. I was the Norm to the Riverton/Herriman Maverick. Every other visit, my drinks would be free because they just liked me. I was a regular and they figured I’d earned my way to V.I.P. status in the convenient store world.

About 6 months ago, Maverick made a staff change. I’m not sure if it was because word got out to the managers that they were giving things away, or if it was a different reason. But this new crew sucks. I have had to pay for my drinks every day for 6 months! Not once have I been greeted with a “heeeeyyy!!!” as I walk through the doors in the morning. And EVERY DAY the SAME girl asks me if I want a receipt. EVERY DAY I say no. The last people knew I didn’t want a receipt, knew it was debit, and KNEW if their Diet Coke was out, to run to the back and fix it before I even got close to the fountain. I’d just like to know where K.C., Saydee, and Brenda have gone. What did I do wrong to lose my celebrity status? It’s like I’m M.C. Hammer and have lost everything over night!! I’m not ok with this!

Sometimes you really do wanna go where everybody knows your name!

Love to you all. Please send money or gift cards to Maverick.

Wedding Bell Hell

I think it’s been a while since I complained publically about something that drives me crazy. Well… at least on my blog, I do it every day on Twitter and Facebook. I find that by complaining about things I have no control over out loud, I feel a little better about myself.

There are a couple things I’m not ok with, but, to each their own so take this with a grain of salt if you are in to these kinds of things. I’m pretty much over the whole- put your arms out holding a sign that says- “We’re getting married!!” thing. Here’s the deal folks… you just sent me a wedding announcement. Don’t you think I put two and two together without you having to hold up a poster board that says it? These pics are just about as over done as a Katy Perry song. Sitting in a photo booth having each picture have a different piece of information isn’t any better. Example: We’re… Getting….. Married….. June 12, 2012. Those ones just piss me off (sorry I said piss mom)… I see the first one, “we’re” and I’m thinking “HOLY CRAP!!! They’re about to announce something INCREDIBLE, the anticipation is KILLING ME!!!” Next one “getting”….. “Oh my gosh?? What are they getting?? A Zebra? A lion?? -No…. Scotty is allergic to Lions, it wouldn’t be a lion-… could they be getting a monkey? A dolphin? WHAT IS IT??” Last one… “Married”…. *insert crickets chirping* “WHAT?? Who cares!! Send out an announcement when you have something cool to tell me! What a let down!”

Maybe it’s because I’ve got one failed marriage under my belt that the excitement of it all is a little obscure to me. But I feel as if every wedding announcement I get is trying to one up the last one. Let’s be honest, I’m just going to throw away the 500 picture collage you just sent me so you’ve basically just wasted 2.00 plus postage on me. If you want to send me something worth while, just send me cash. I’ll attempt to come to your wedding, so long as it’s in Salt Lake County, preferably within the Riverton/Herriman/South Jordan area, and as long as your refreshments are worth it, but I’m totally cool with an invite on Facebook. Save yourself the money, and the idea of me laughing at your all too lovey dovey engagement pictures.

Love you all!

p.s. sorry for any grammar errors, this was a rant and not combed through

p.s.s I’m not really sorry.

Meg for Prez

I think I’ve talked about this before, but because of the upcoming presidential elections, I feel obligated to talk about it again. I know nothing, and when I say nothing, I mean literally NOTHING about politics. I couldn’t tell you who, besides Mitt Romney {Shout out to my Mormon peeps} is running this year.

I can’t tell you what Obama did or didn’t do, other than be made fun of on Saturday Night Live a few times. But they seem to be able to mock every president fairly well so really, it made no difference. I do know Michelle Obama took French fries out of school lunches and did push ups with Ellen, but those don’t really win over a vote for her husband from me.

Gas prices suck, I’m not sure if that’s because of Obama or something else, but there’s nothing I can do about it, so I continue to get hosed at the pump once a week as a fill up.  My health insurance premiums are still outrageous, and I’m still paying out the a-double-s for diabetes supplies every month for my kid. From what I’ve gathered, I’m paying for people with no jobs to get insurance basically. Right? Or am I just making this up. Probably.

This is what happens when my main source of news comes from Facebook and Twitter. I thought while following “The Onion” I was getting some legit news stories. Turns out those are all fake. Oops, my bad. I’m sure I’m a disgrace to society for not caring more; but in all honesty, nothing makes me madder than Greys Anatomy being interrupted for a presidential address to the nation. I don’t care what he has to say! I just care if Grey and McDreamy are hooking up in the break room again!

Anyway, there’s really not a huge point to this post, other than the fact I’m a little, ok a LOT, politically disabled. I’m ok with that. I've managed to survive this long without an understanding of it all. But for the love of all that is holy, for the next 8 months, could you all tone it down with the politics on social media sites? You’re really putting a damper on my free entertainment.

Thanks!

p.s. maybe write me in as your presidential election this year?

My Moms First Blog Post

My mom sent me this email today, it may or may not have made me cry. She's an amazing mom, grandma and friend. She may not agree with every choice I've made in my life, but she loves me anyway. She is my rock through hard times and makes me laugh when no one else can. I'm fortunate enough to have a mom I can call my best friend. Thanks for all you do! (And sorry to post this.....) 

I've always wondered about why women blog.  But after watching 5 grandkids I get it.  I forgot how fun this was. First you need to know I slept exactly 3 hours and 47 minutes last night. Between snoring, coughing nightmares and my mind writing my talk for Sunday at 2:00 am it was a very long night.  I had a Benadryl at 4:00 thinking if I could just get a couple hours Id feel great in the morning...apparently Benadryl is longer lasting than 2 hours.  I'm just praying I don’t get pulled over for a DUI by the cops running the speed trap on 3600 west.  I know it's a trap cuz I've been down it 8 times already today. 

You'll be proud to know all kids have gotten to school on time.  (Seatbelts may or may not have been on).  After getting 4 of the 5 to school I had 45 minutes to get ready for the day.  I know that's about 3 times as long as most moms, but keep in mind I'm use to leisurely mornings reading the paper sipping Pero.  After I'm ready I help Gunner with his homework.  We count out 100 M&M's and count them by 10's.  I started a diet today so I only eat 5....well maybe more like 50, I quit counting.  We go pick up Marin and Drew (on time again, go me).  Get home and make sandwiches when Halle calls and says she needs shoes for recess.  (It's pajama day and she wore slippers).  Keep in mind I've been home from picking up Marin for 4 minutes.  I slap ham on bread for sandwiches and we pile back into the car.  I snarf the crusts down for my lunch and say to heck with the diet bring it on!!!  I get Gunner to school about 10 minutes early so let Marin and Drew play on the playground so I can sleep in the car for 10 minutes.  Just as I'm dosing Gunner opens the door to tell me Drew has broken a school rule and climbed up the slide.

Right now I'm on the toilet faking like I'm going while Marin and Drew are trying to watch me under the door.  I reach for the TP and see a piece of cheese clinging for life on the roll.  (don't ask, I have no idea).  I wash my hands and hear the doorbell, crap!!!!  The RS Presidency is coming for a visit!  Really?  Why?  I'm fine!!!!  My house is a complete disaster!  After an hour visit I make Drew his lunch, he wasn't hungry earlier, I eat his crust and figure that's a meal combined with the crusts from the other sandwiches.  Things have calmed down a bit.  I'm going to make beds and straighten up before the others get home. 

So what I'm trying to say in all this, is I get why mom's blog.  When I was a young mother we stood outside and talked to our neighbors and told horror stories like my morning to each other while the kids played.  Now a days, we don't do that.  We text and we blog and we take Xanex to get through the day.  My baby turns 28 tomorrow.  I can hardly remember her as a child.  I don't remember the days like today.  I don't remember the hard times, I only remember the joy she, and my sons have brought to me.  The wonderful feeling of holding your child for the first time.  Of falling so in love you can't imagine a life without them.  My days of little children are gone. I only have grandchildren who visit and stay over occasionally.   I realize that being a mom and grandma is the best job I could ever have.  I've been blessed with 3 wonderful children.  Who are my best friends. Thanks for being such great people.  I love you!

Mom

A little rant....

**Heads up, this is just MY opinion, I’m sure it will rub someone the wrong way, but when have I ever tried to sugar coat things like this? Get over it.**

I was listening to The Painful Circle this morning on X-96 and they were talking about divorce. A lady called in wondering about Alimony and child support payments. I don’t even know what they ended up telling her or what they told her was going to happen because I pulled in to work just as they started chatting about it. But it got my blood boiling that women can be so dependent on “spousal support” to live.

I’m divorced with two kids, (shocking, right?) there is nothing that irritates me more than women who drain their ex husbands bank accounts every month so that they can continue to live comfortably rather than going out and working to support THEIR children. TWO people made the decision to get married and have kids, not one. ONE person should not support the children.  Things HAVE TO CHANGE once a divorce happens. (Girls,  you may actually have to take the sweat pants off and get out of the house and get one of those “job” thingy’s…) I understand CHILD support and completely agree with it. Obviously if the husband was bringing in all of the income, the wife is going to have to have help…FOR THE KIDS!!

I find a sense of accomplishment and independence that I’ve been able to get myself into a house, find a great paying job, pay my own bills, pay off some debts and still have some money each month to let the boys have some play time. {side note…..I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have help from my parents to get me to this point, so here’s a little shout out to them. You guys are AMAZING!!}

The majority of my “accomplishments” have all been done, with very, I repeat VERY little child support and absolutely NO ALIMONY!! Why should both my ex and I struggle each month to make ends meet? What does that do for the kids? Oh, I know, it makes THEM suffer!! I’d rather the ex (who I really don’t give a rats for) be able to take my kids to do fun things or be able to buy them that video game they’ve been begging for, instead of draining his bank account each month because he has to pay me alimony.

It’s my hope that later in life my kids will be grateful for the fact that I busted my a-double-s to provide for them, and have an appreciation for the fact I didn’t exhaust all of their dads money so that I could afford to have a few luxuries or pay my house payment each month. I did it all. BY MYSELF!

To tie up this little rant about lazy women who depend on their ex husbands, here’s a little food for thought: Grow some lady balls, and get things done without depending on that ex husband to pay for your lifestyle.

Amen

A lesson for everyone.....

Today at work, my friend Phil came back from lunch smelling like a pile of Onions. He stinks! So I decided I needed to write a little blog post about workplace personal scent etiquette. It is NEVER ok to come to work smelling like the following:

1. Onions
2. Beef Stew
3. Cigarettes
4. Elk Urine
5. The back of a garbage truck
6. A McDonalds, or any other fastfood bathroom
7. Fish
8. B.O. covered by Old Spice
9. Curve for Men
10. Wet Dog
11. Sunflowers Perfume
12. Dirty Laundry
13. Aqua Net Hairspray
14. Hot Dogs
15. Adidas Cologne
16. Teen Spirit Deodorant
17. Baby Vomit
18. Beer
19. Cabbage
20. Lindsay Lohan

It is acceptable to come to work smelling like the following:

1. Rubber Cement
2. Really big sharpie Markers
3. Paint Thinner
4. W-D 40
5. Those colorful smelly good markers.

Please feel free to sit in my Cube if you smell like the above 5. The above 20, please move your workstation to the break room with the homeless man for the rest of the day.

That is all.