I just want to blogor my stories

I was sad because my computer doesn’t have a painting program that is so sophisticated as Microsoft Paint. If I want to use such a thing to make a cartoon like the one gracing the top of this gorgeous blog, I have to walk 60 feet all the way to the other side of the house and use the desktop computer. And, gosh. I just have to weigh my options. First of all, my room is where my office is located, which I believe we established in the blog about how I’m slowly losing my people skills. What if I want to look up and stare at Continue reading “I just want to blogor my stories”


Why My First Fish Was My Last

When I talked about my fear of getting locked in bathroom stalls in “There’s Nothing To Fear,But Maybe This,” I felt a little validated. Maybe I’m not an over thinker. I actually learned that other people have that fear and wonder if others might share my other legitimate fears.

Such as pet fish.

We had a pet goldfish when I was roundabouts 9 or 10. It was orange-ish, going against the gold name given to it, with a black splotch on its tiny cheek that was shaped like Mickey Mouse. An MM fanatic, I named the fish Mickey and had grand plans for us. It liked swimming, I loved swimming, so we had a lot to talk about. It liked Mickey Mouse so much that it had that birthmark or tattoo in the shape of the mouse’s head. I loved Mickey Continue reading “Why My First Fish Was My Last”

Quarrel with the Squirrels

This is a very sensitive topic for me, but I realize that I sort of left you hanging yesterday. I mentioned that I sometimes find my dog sleeping under the blanket and think that he’s a squirrel that’s hiding, waiting for his moment to attack me.

I’m going to assume you are nodding with understanding and sympathy, because this is very reasonable for me to think. Let me tell you why. If you have something that you hold in your time of need — a blanket, stuffed animal, bottle of whiskey — I recommend that you grab it right now.

Squirrels have been bullying me for about four years, now. One tried to take my lunch between classes during grad school. It actually sat on a table, tugged at my backpack, pulled the lid on my bottle of water, and threatened my life — well, I assume from the looks in its eyes that it was threatening me. I finally threw my peanut butter sandwich on the ground and grabbed my belongings while it was distracted. I moved half a block away, sat down, and when I looked up… it was right there, asking for more.

Actual Photo of the Bully

Squirrels: 1
Megs: 0 Continue reading “Quarrel with the Squirrels”

The Dog Isn’t Sick, It’s A Haircut

Where do I start?

For one, I save money everywhere I can. You can call me cheap. I wear it with pride. I’m that girl who, every time a person compliments something that I’m wearing, I can’t just say, “Aw, you! Thanks!” I’ll always say, “Thanks! I got it at [insert store] for [insert amount under $5.00]!” I don’t know why I can’t just leave it at accepting the compliment, but I’m just really proud of being frugal and finding bargains.

Being a Frugal Frannie, I rarely spend money on something if I can figure out how to do it myself. Need to replace the car battery? I’ll get it. Locked the keys in the car and have no spares? Hand me a spatula, I can take care of this. Need your appendix removed? I mean, I did play Operation when I was a kid, sooo… Continue reading “The Dog Isn’t Sick, It’s A Haircut”

Things that Make Me Sad [but Shouldn’t]

Picture it: Iowa, 1992. I was in elementary school filling out a bio of sorts on prison-suit-orange construction paper to tape on the wall alongside my classmates’ bios written on various colored square papers. We were to answer questions such as, “What is your nickname? How many siblings do you have? What makes you happy? What makes you sad?” and the like. I took care to answer these questions in my best cursive, a skill I’d been perfecting for two years.

Nickname: Meehan, because before I was a skilled cursive writer, I accidentally wrote my “g” backwards in my name on a drawing that was hung at school. My oldest brother saw it and, TADA, a name was born.

Side note: Do doctors shout, “TADA! Your baby has been born!” After the birth of a child? I’m going to do a blog of questions I have for parents, and that is one of many.

How many siblings: I was always very proud Continue reading “Things that Make Me Sad [but Shouldn’t]”