The Time I Wasn’t Kidnapped

I was just talking to my roommate (Hi, Mom!) about Stranger Danger (note to self: Add “Stranger Danger” to list of possible band names) and how she prepared her children to keep an eye out for Bad Strangers.

My brothers are several years older than me, so I don’t really know their experiences with strangers, how they knew when someone was out to get them, or when someone was just being friendly.

Actually, I have heard stories, but this blog is all about

Job Hunting? Don’t Not Do This

I start a second job this coming week. I’m pretty pumped.

Also, I’m very confused.

If for some reason you don’t stalk me and haven’t found a way to read every comment I ever write on other people’s pages, then you might not be aware that within one year (2014-2015), I sent about 100 resumes and had about 90 interviews. I had actually started to write a blog post about it so I could tell the humorous stories from those rejections, but it turns out it’s still a downer to talk about in detail. Maybe I’m over 45 rejections and need another year to move on from the other 45.

Did I just make this awkward? I made this weird.

Somehow, my current teaching position just came to me.

What’s in Your Bag?

Before I begin, I really don’t think this post has to be gender-specific, which is why I called this “What’s in Your Bag” and not “What’s in Your Purse” or “What’s in Your Murse.”

I have puh-lenty of male friends who carry messenger bags, laptop bags, recyclable grocery bags, and bags shaped like puppies.

Ok. I’m lying about the last one. But how badly does your inner 8-year-old want one?

I’m not even sure this is limited to bags. I think what I’m about to discuss has pertained to my desk drawers at work and certainly to That One Junk Drawer I know we all have, so don’t pretend your home doesn’t have one. Sometimes, you just have to toss a bobby pin in the Junk Drawer in case a situation arises and you need it in that room.

But today, we are gathered here to talk about what the dickens ends up in my purse and why.

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

I Forgot How to People

November was rough.

I work remotely in the education scene and November is when things really start to pick up. A gal finishes grading midterms, reviews students’ rough drafts, and prepares for the heavy fall of approximately 1,000 pages of essays.

I had loaded up on nourishing snacks that served as brain food in graduate school. I figured if they helped me get through as a student, they ought to help as an educator. These include but are not limited to jalapeño chips, Pepsi, Snickers, and mixed nuts (haha, I said nuts).

My office is located in the southwesternmost corner of my bedroom. At the beginning of the month, things went as they typically do. I sat at my desk, and graded like a normal adult might. In fact, it was as I imagined my professors did once upon a time. I wore normal clothes that suggested that I might be an adult. This means that they were clean, my pants matched my top,

Y2Okay

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

My pretties. I owe you an apology. I have not gifted you with my words for months. I do not know what came over me. I will remind you, though, that I began this blog by setting myself up for failure to stick to a schedule. You were to expect that I would not regularly update.

I now have 55 minutes left in 2016 in Central Standard Time. Let us see if I can squeeze in one more post for the year.

I shall go with The Predictable and write a New Years Eve post.

I remember celebrating the year 2000. I worked at Walgreens and everyone was preparing for Y2K, which just translates to Year 2000. But it was said in a way that meant that life as we knew it was going to end. Computers were expected to stop and for reasons that I never understood, this meant that the world was going to stop. One customer told me that even cars were

How I Got Lost and Found

Friends, Colleagues, Staff, Readers, MeghaFans!

I’m back! I certainly did not expect to take the full month off from writing and I feel like apologizing. I did the Texas bit and had a blast. I enjoyed Fathers’ Day (I haven’t looked up the various writer’s guides, but I feel strongly that the apostrophe belongs after the “s,” y’know?) and conquered a somewhat tall Ferris wheel. Hashtag: I’m a survivor. I unexpectedly and gratefully volunteered for a film festival wherein I took on the stage for the first time in four years. I sorta want to live on it. Thankfully, one of the local parks has a stage, so I will probably just start hopping on that daily and performing for no one just to get my need out of the way. Finally, I saw my 11-month-old best friend and his mom. Er, I mean my best friend and her 11-month-old, a visit that I’ve been needing for over two months. I don’t like when I miss an entire month of that baby’s life. Because now he’s basically a grown business man and I missed seeing him grow into that.

Now that you know what I’ve been up to and why the dickens I’d neglect you for an entire month, it’s time for us to discuss something that I did, how I got through, and how you, too, can get yourself in and out of this predicament.

So, Your House Isn’t a Store?

I sort of feel like I tossed an unanswered question out there yesterday when I mentioned that The Cousin and I once found ourselves in a stranger’s basement with the understanding that we were shopping at a store.

So instead of completing my packing this morning, I thought I would share that story. This will do a few things:

Give you an idea of the situations The Cousin and I find ourselves in
That’s right, these things truly happen more than once.

Help me procrastinate

Okay. There is a touristy area near a town I lived in during college that visitors and locals, alike, enjoy visiting. Everyone makes a huge deal about the shops, the food-things, the history, the whole gamut. I decided during The Cousin’s visit that we would find this village and experience The Experiences. While I tried to figure out where it was and what we’d want to see, my mom sent me several emails explaining that if I turned in one direction off the highway, I would find myself in The Boring, Shopless Part of the village.

Packing Carry On Luggage

 

I am preparing to go on my favorite vacation of the year. It is time to visit The Cousin that I mention from time to time on here.

I feel bad, because I mention her as if she’s the only cousin I have. I’m actually visiting many cousins, a coupla aunts, and an uncle. I love them all to pieces, however I’m certain that there are times that they’d be A-OK pretending if The Cousin and I weren’t related. That’s unfortunately the great thing about us. We don’t try to get ourselves in ridiculous situations (e.g., dressed in pajamas and pantyhose, we were chased down by a farmer in the middle of the woods ), the ridiculous situations come to us.

Final Quote of The Challenge

A couple of days ago, our friend (yours and mine… and if she isn’t yours, you need to rush over and become her friend now) Amanda at Just In Queso nominated me to participate in the 3-day Quote Challenge.

I pulled out one of my favorite Maya Angelou quotes to reflect on why working to be normal is eh. Why be normal when being your best you is amazing. That’s my interpretation, anyway. I’ve always been jealous that I can’t write like she could.

Then I didn’t realize I was quoting a song from Annie when I suggested that you might be partially nude if you don’t smile when you greet people around you.

Today, I want to take a look at this quote.