7 Things You Didn't Know About Me: 1-4

From an email I received last week:

Hi Meg! Longtime reader, first time emailer.

[…]

There’s this “7 Things You Didn’t Know About Me” thing going around on some of my favorite tumblr accounts and although you don’t have a tumblr (to my knowledge), I totally think you should do one! Maybe as a blog post? It’s pretty much exactly what it sounds like. I feel like yours would be especially interesting because of how incredibly open and candid you are with your readers. I can’t imagine what we don’t know!

[…]

- Sara

Well bless your heart for thinking seven random facts about me would be interesting. And no, I do not have a Tumblr account. I made one over the summer when I was bored, posted five pictures, and immediately deleted my account because I felt really self-conscious and wasn’t sure if I was doing it right. That being said, I will list seven facts that you may not know about me. I can’t promise they’ll be interesting, but here you go:

[OK, I’m going to stop myself right there. So, I wrote this post on Saturday night because I didn’t feel well enough to go out and wanted to get some work done. I took an Adderall and it…complicated things. Because apparently I either don’t take my Adderall and never finish a blog post because I write a little, get distracted by something shiny, write a little, PLASTIC BAG! PLASTIC BAG! PLASTIC BAG!, write a little, I NEED TO KNOW WHAT EVERY MEMBER OF THE WU TANG CLAN IS DOING RIGHT NOW! and end up with this huge archive of half-finished blog posts I hate, OR I take my Adderall and write a fucking college thesis about something inane like my favorite soup. This post ended up being the latter, so I’ve decided to break it up into three days. I’m going to post facts 1-4 today, 5 tomorrow, and 6-7 on Wednesday. The exciting thing is it’s already written (and 30 pages…What? I don’t know. I can’t stop grinding my teeth.), so you know I’m good for it.

The other thing I want to mention is that for this week and this week only, as part of an Adams Media holiday promotion, our first book, The Misanthrope’s Guide to Life, is available as a free Kindle download! Pretty sweet, right? If you lucked out because you already planned on buying it, you should totally use the money you would have spent on it to download our second book, Brainwashing for Beginners. Two books for the price of one! HO HO (w)HO (loves you? Adams Media. Not me. This makes me extremely nervous because I’m afraid we’re going to take massive royalty hits and even though our royalties are only like 85 cents between us, that’s almost an apple pie on the Dollar Menu. We’re losing pies upon pies upon pies here, people. But then again, as of Saturday night we were #25 in free downloads and A Tale of Two Cities was #26. I feel like it’s a genuine accomplishment to be able to say that you’ve fragged Charles Dickens' ass. Especially in December.)

7 Things You Didn’t Know About Me (1-4):

1.) Dan and I got tattoos together while he was here visiting last month! It was kind of crazy and spontaneous, as most things I end up doing with Dan are. (Getting tattoos, walking around New York Avenue at 2 o’clock in the morning asking hookers if they know where we can get ecstasy, LaTe NigHt PizZa PaRtieS!!1…) A few nights before Dan had to go back to Dubai, we were chitchatting and/or watching Sister Wives (obviously) before bed and out of nowhere he was like, “I want to get a tattoo.” I’d been trying to find someone to go get a tattoo with me for over a year so I was like, “YES. TOMORROW. LET’S DO IT.” and it was decided. The next morning, I completely expected him to be like, “Remember when we decided we were going to get tattoos last night? LOL!!!1!” because one night while he was living with me last Fall, we decided (under the influence of about a baker’s dozen La Playas) that we were going to wake up, rent a Zip Car, drive to a mall two hours away in eastern Maryland and buy a pug. Because LIKE, LET’S JUST DO IT, YOU KNOW?! LET’S JUST FUCKING DO IT. WHAT’S STOPPING US? YOU KNOW? NOTHING. OURSELVES! THAT’S WHAT’S STOPPING US. SO LET’S JUST FUCKING DO IT. LET’S JUST BUY A PUG. OMG—WE’RE TOTALLY GOING TO BUY A PUG TOMORROW!!! …….We didn’t. If I remember correctly, we woke up, ordered wings at 10 o’clock in the morning, watched a documentary on Mt. Everest, and catnapped.

This time, however, Dan and I were true to our word. We ended up going to Embassy Tattoo in Adams Morgan, which I cannot recommend highly enough. I’ve gotten other tattoos in DC at Jinx Proof and Fatty’s, and my best experience hands-down was at Embassy. Fairly priced, friendly, accommodating, and incredibly well done. I just sent College Roommate Rachel there last night. My artist’s name was Fernando Gonzalez and I can’t remember the name of Dan’s guy, but he was really hot, just moved here, and has shoulder length blonde hair. I kept trying to make small talk and flirt with him, but it was hard because I was also concentrating on keeping my leg muscles from involuntarily twitching and/or not vomiting everywhere. It was a delicate dance.Dan ended up getting a tattoo of a tree on his right shoulder blade because he’s a hip kid from Portland and I got this little ditty on my right foot in honor of the fightingest squad in the fightingest company in the third-fightingest battalion in the army—The Flying Hellfish.

(Such a shitty picture. And yes, this is my second Simpsons tattoo. And no, despite Chris’ constant mocking, I am not embarrassed.)
If you’re reading this and are my mom’s friend, hair colorist, or a neighbor (and I know you all are), please don’t tell her. If you’re reading this and are my aunt’s assistant (Kaitlin…), please don’t tell my aunt, who will obviously tell my mom. And if you’re reading this and are my sister, please don’t tell your husband who will yell at me and/or make fun of me (probably and) in front of mom at Hanukkah dinner, thereby ruining this year’s Festival of Lights. Because do you really want that on your shoulders? It burned for eight days and eight nights, Rebecca. It was a miracle.

2.) I’m applying to grad school. But I’m only applying to three. And all three are in the top 10 non-fiction writing MFA programs in the country. So I’m applying to grad school, but will probably not be going to grad school.

3.) I want red hair again so badly, but I can’t afford the upkeep. (Pot, yogurt, eyebrow threading. Tattoos. Replacement phones. Diamonds are a Meg’s best friend.)

Sidenote: While searching through my Facebook photos for pictures of me with red hair, I stumbled upon this vintage ’06 picture of Talia and me at a party at Anna’s house over summer break. We both had (and very much have) a crush on Anna’s dad, so we snuck up to her parent’s bedroom and…well, I’ll let it to you:

I’m still not sorry.

I also found a picture from that party where I’m rapping and using a box of Franzia as my beatbox. I’d like to say I’ve moved on from that phase of my life, but then I remember that less than two months ago, I pulled a stomach muscle vomiting old school Four Loko and broke my hand drunkenly stumbling around Ren Fest within a week of each other. I haven’t really “grown as a person” in the past five years, per se.

4.) In 2003, I accidentally and successfully rushed a sorority at a school I didn’t go to.  Even though I went to college essentially five feet away from my hometown, it was still a really hard transition for me. Being the wacky MiSaNtHrOpE!~ that I am, I was really anxious about having to make all new friends, and I chose to deal with that anxiety by driving up to Frostburg (a small state school in Western Maryland where Talia and Teresa went) every weekend instead of staying and trying to make it work at AU. As an older and wiser Meggles with slightly more social skills, I acknowledge what a poor decision that was. Thankfully I had friends at AU like Helena, Ex-Co Blogger Eddie and Ashleigh who sat me down one night in November and were like, “HEY ASPIES—MAYBE STAY A WEEKEND?” and I was like, “Ooo. Yes. Good call.” My college experience obviously improved significantly after I started staying there on weekends, but I still wouldn’t trade my honorary semester (or other weekend visits) at Frostburg for anything in the world. Because that shit was fun. Frostburg State knows how to party in a way that makes me wonder how anyone graduates from there at all. I’d arrive on Friday nights and leave Sunday morning with a hoarse voice, sore throat, bloodshot eyes, and a new absurd story. My favorite being when I rushed a sorority.

I got into Frostburg pretty late on the Friday night in question and went straight to Talia’s dorm to pregame. She gave me the rundown for the night’s plans and said that at some point, she had promised that we’d make a courtesy stop at a friend’s sorority’s rush party. “Uh, can I get in even though I don’t go here?” I asked. “Meh. Just put down my dorm number when you sign it. It won’t matter.” (I also said my major was mathematics with a minor in geography, because if you’re going to go for a lie, I say go hard.) We got to the party an hour later and as I started to pour myself a tall glass of trashcan jungle juice (because that’s how a Frostburg rush party rolls. As the owner of Hat, does it really surprise that I felt at home there?), Talia had to run out and tend to some drama that I can’t remember the details of, perhaps because I was drinking alcohol out of a trash receptacle by the ladleful at the time.

“Are you going to be OK here alone?” she asked. Knowing me well.

“PSH. I’ll be fine. You do what you have to do,” I responded, Zelko, Sunny Delight, and Rubbermaid particles filling my veins with the kind of courage you only wished you had in the light of day.

Now, truth be told, I’m actually pretty OK at parties where I don’t know anybody. I’m pretty OK at parties in general. Breaking the ice and being charming in a large crowd scenario isn’t my problem; it’s one-on-one conversations that get me. I have absolutely no problem going up to a huge group of people I don’t know and being like, “Hey, I’m Meg! What’s up?”, but put me on a first date in an intimate setting and suddenly I’m talking too much about my uncomfortably thought out “Theory on Ex-Fatties” or how I’m starting a letter writing campaign to have sex with Steve Buscemi and two weeks later I wonder why nobody ever fucking calls me back. But…yes. I’m normally pretty good at parties where I don’t know anybody, but on this particular night? I was on fucking fire.

 Knowing that I didn’t actually go to school there, would never see any of these people again, and in no way cared about getting into their sorority gave me a freedom to be myself that I have yet to experience again, frankly. After Talia left, I walked up to a blond “sister” standing nearby and struck up a conversation.

“I gotta say,” I said as I held up and tapped my solo cup, “good call going with the Sunny D. I feel like most sororities would put on airs and go with something like a Fruitopia or frozen Minute Maid, but not you. And you know what? I like it.”

“Thanks!” she said. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Meghan, nice to meet you.”

 “I’m Brittney. So, what dorm do you live in, Meghan?”

“Ugh, Frost.” [Frost was the community service dorm that both Talia and Teresa were placed in, I’m fairly sure because they turned their housing forms in late.]

 “Oh my gawd, seriously?? How can you stand it?”

“Dude, you’re telling me. Everyone pretty much just stays in on the weekend to play with their Bunsen burners and beakers, but then again it’s also close to the dining hall and I’m borderline sexually attracted to waffles, so I can’t complain.” [I don't even know if that's true.] [The dorm's proximity to the dining hall, that is. I am absolutely borderline sexually attracted to waffles.]“Have you met anyone in your dorm you like?”

“Oh, totally. I feel really lucky that I found a small group of girls on my floor that I instantly clicked with. But I guess that’s why I also want to join a sorority—I want to to make that small group grow, you know?” [I may have been, and frankly might be, a sociopath.]

“Absolutely! That’s what being in a sorority is all about! Kristen!” she shouted at another sister, “Come over here, I want you to meet someone!” Kristen came over and we were introduced.

“Oh my gawd, I love your jacket,” she said to me. “Where did you get it?”

“Thanks! It’s from North Face,” I responded.

“Oh my gawd, I’m obsessed with my North Face!” she said. “My boyfriend got it for me as an early Christmas present, but we just broke up.”

“Yeah…BUT YOU GOTTA KEEP THAT JACKET, GURL—Y’ALL KNOW WHAT I’M SAYIN’?!?!”

High fives. High fives all around. And it went on like that for quite some time. It was startling. Finally, Talia came back to retrieve me, I said goodbye to my new friends, and we went on our way.

 Later that night as Talia, Teresa and I hunt out in Talia’s room recapping the night, her friend from the sorority walked in looking extremely tired and pointed at me.

“Well done, Meg,” she said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, I just came back from a two-hour long post-rush party meeting, and at least a half an hour of that was spent with girls arguing over who would get to be your Big.”

“WOW! Seriously??” I asked, genuinely flattered.

“Yes. Seriously. It seriously took a half an hour of arguing over ‘Meg with the black hair from Frost Hall’ before I realized that that was you and had to tell them you don’t go to school here.”

“Aw, man. Brittney’s gonna be so disappointed in me…” And I meant it.

So, while I felt kind of shitty because I blatantly wasted those peoples’ time, the experience also ended up being a really good life lesson for me about what happens you stop giving a shit about what other people think of you. I wish I were joking when I say that one of my social mantras is still: “Dance like no one is watching. Sing like no one is listening. Love like you've never been hurt and rush like you don’t go to school there.”

You’re welcome.

Worming my way back into your hearts with a little help from CJ Fam

Well, we're done writing the manuscript for book #2 and we're back from hiatus! Or at least I'm back from hiatus. Chris is vacationing with his dad in Maryland this week to celebrate finishing grad school. I'd like to say they should have aimed higher and picked a more exotic travel destination, but then again, my stance on Maryland is and always will be: Maryland—DON'T MIND IF I DO, AND DON'T MIND IF I DO!

So how did writing the book go? Um. Not "well", per se. Chris and I apparently wrote this manuscript on an ancient Indian burial ground because everything that could have gone wrong did. My laptop broke, Chris got strep throat, we had to get three extensions, Chris' apartment exploded in mice, I developed a really painful style on the inside of my upper-right eyelid. I know, A STYE!!! How the hell did that happen?? I really can't stress enough how irritating it was. Blinking was excruciatingly painful. I tried writing with my right eye closed for a while, but it threw off my depth perception and I just ended up getting car sick. It was a weird couple of days. But we're done (thank Christ) and I'm so, so happy to be back. We love writing for Adams because: 1.) they give us money and 2.) our editor is delightful, but writing for someone else really makes you miss writing without restrictions. Adams doesn't even restrict us that much, they just asked that we not write jokes about two subjects: abortion and suicide. Which is problematic because if there's anything funnier than abortion and suicide, it's child molestation. Now we have an entire binder's worth of aborted abortion and suicide jokes that just sits on a shelf marked "irony" in my apartment and collects dust. Therefore this needs to happen:

SUICIDE! SUICIDE! SUICIDE!

ABORTION! ABORTION! ABORTION!

SUICIDE! ABORTION! ABORTIONY SUICIDE! SUICIDAL ABORTIONS! ABORTICIDE! ABORTION! ABORTION! ABORTION!

KNOCK, KNOCK.

WHO'S THERE?

ABORTION.

ABORTION, WHO?

SUICIDE!

God, that felt good. Glad to be back here at the old 2b1b where the bar is set low. Really, really, embarrassingly low.

So remember when you were a kid and your dad would go away on long business trips and bring you back something nice to make it up to you? Or in my case, both of your parents would go to Monte Carlo on your birthday and then come back and give your bike to your sister to abandon in Malcolm X park, not replace it, and after years of not letting them live it down, you delude yourself into thinking that maybe they've learned a lesson, but then your dad gives his car to your sister, sells your car, and uses the profits to help buy himself a Porsche, and when you ask what you get out of that deal, he hands you a jar of baby gherkins and everybody laughs really hard?............Goddammit, I have no idea what my original point was. Oh, yes. Dad/business trip metaphor. So I know Daddy had to go away on business and now you're all mad at me, but I brought you back a little prezzie to make it better. (For the record: I feel like I just molested each and every one of you and I apologize profusely.) It's a privilege and an honor to start the 2b1b engine back up with our interview with C-C-C-C-CJ FAM!

I'm totally not making this up. Chris and I sat down on Easter Sunday and interviewed my new BFF #1, CJ Fam. It turns out after I wrote "In Defense of CJ Fam", CJ's mom (Brenda, she's a doll) found it and reached out to us because she and CJ thought it was funny. Which is awesome, because whenever I write about someone not in my immediate circle, I'm aware that it's going to go one way or the other, and it always tends to go the other. Like the time I wrote that really flattering piece about my ninth grade crush and within an hour of it being up, his cousin emailed me to tell me to take it down and his best friend called my best friend to be like, "Meg wrote some gay shit about Steve on her blog or whatever and Steve's like, really weirded out now." God, that was disappointing. It was like watching a magician empty his sleeves, or Santa take off his beard. Except once Santa's beard is off, it's not upsetting because he's just some random guy—it's upsetting because he has the sense of humor of a foghorn. Sigh. Anyway! CJ Fam is promoting her new single "Show Off" and we had the pleasure of chatting with her about it. (Side note: we did the interview over Facebook chat because it was just easier for transcribing purposes, however, because my Facebook photo is of Carl Winslow, the entire interview felt more like watching a fantasy version of "Inside the Actor's Studio" starring Carl Winslow instead of James Lipton and CJ Fam instead of James Franco. So, basically, a 5,000% better show.)

2birds1blog:
Hey CJ, Thanks again for taking time out of your Easter to chat with us.


CJ Fam:
Sure, anytime.


2b1b:
First and foremost: Ark Records: what was behind that decision? It seems like an unusual decision for a girl of your talent.



Fam:
Well, I wrote a song and they offered to produce it because every one has to start somewhere.


2b1b:
So did they find you, or did you already know about them?

Fam:
They were trying to launch a girl band and we submitted a video of me singing and they wanted to launch me as a solo artist.

2b1b:
That must have been flattering! I was hoping they were going to do that with our book deal. And yet. Here Chris is.

So are Patrice “Bizarro Usher” Wilson and Clarence Jay as creepy as the world collectively decided they are?

Fam:
Absolutely not, Clarenece was so down to earth and supported me and he is very spiritual.

2b1b:
Sounds about right. Are you still working with them at all?

Fam:
No, I moved on from Ark but still keep in touch with them.

2b1b:
Who are you with now? And what made you want to move on?

Fam:
I am with Famous Teen Traxx. Ark had suddenly broke down after the whole Rebecca Black situation. I moved on I could prove that I could sing because I have been under attack. I just recorded a new song called "Show Off" and made a video behind it so the song should be out soon. The producer's name is Ramone and we were in LA for a week.

2b1b:
Well, as Chris just said, judging from "Show Off", there's no doubt you can sing.

Fam:
I still have a long way to go.

2b1b:
Going back to Ark briefly, I know that you read my blog post about how I VERY MUCH thought “Ordinary Popstar” deserved to go viral over Rebecca Black’s “Friday”. Let’s rap about that. Are you as peeved as I was (/am)?

Fam:
I'm not angry because she has to deal with all the negativity and I would rather have less hits but they are mostly good then going viral in a negative way.

2b1b:
That's an incredibly good and mature point. It’s crazy that you’re only 11-years-old. When I was 11 I failed Earth Science and wore a fair amount of baby-doll tee/boardshort combos. Are you having fun or is this work?

Fam:
I think of it as fun and not work because you can express yourself in a different way.

2b1b:
So what can you tell us about "Show Off"?

Fam:
It is a jazz type song from the 1940's, they were looking for a singer for over a year, and they knew nothing about my song "Ordinary Popstar".

2b1b:
Does this mean you have a contract with Famous Teen Traxx?

Fam:
No they want to take me to different labels to get signed but my parents don't want me to grow up too fast. And I love going to school and having friends.

2b1b:
I know what you mean. [That comment was followed by an awkward 30 seconds of silence. I really expected a fair amount of HAHAHA's because I thought it was obvious that I was referencing the line in "Ordinary Popstar", "I want to have a regular life again, like going to school and having good friends. You know what I mean?" And when you've out CJ Fam-ed CJ Fam, it's time to get out of your fucking apartment.]

I’m going to be real honest with you: I went to a very performance arts heavy high school with lots of girls pursuing pop stardom and I usually describe them with words that I’m not going to use in front of an 11-year-old girl. Please tell me that you’re nice. As your #1 blog supporter, this is oddly important to me.

Fam:
I feel that I am very humble and I don't like talking about my popstar life at school so my friends can think of me as just a good friend. I enter these contests for myself to improve. My dad says that being a good person is the meat and potatoes and having good grades and being able to sing is just gravy. We all like gravy but we don't need it.

2b1b:
Ooo...my dad pushed grades. But in the end I'm just a blogger, so I guess I showed him. I have a question on behalf of my friend Andrew (who introduced me to your music, by the way). In all of the Ark videos, including yours, are those your real friends or extras that Ark hires?

Fam:
They hired extras, but I took one friend and she was in the video too.

2b1b:
How fun!

Fam:
And I wonder sometimes who are my true friends and who aren't.

2b1b:
I feel like that's normal for middle school (or at least in my experience) but I imagine it's even harder if you're a public figure.

Fam:
Well, being in Elementary School is even harder.

2b1b:
Oh, just kidding then. Middle school is a breeeeze!

Fam:
Good, can't wait.

2b1b:
Well, look. As I've written about on our blog, elementary and middle school sucked for me, but every day I came home and ate a box of cookies and watched "Mama's Family". At least you have this amazing project.

Fam:
Do have any words of wisdom for a girl like me?

2b1b:
GIRL, I could write you a novel.

Fam:
Well, I'm up for reading it! Do you think I should stop what I am doing?

2b1b:
I'm genuinely rooting for you, so any time you need advice, you come straight to me, missy. I guess my overarching advice is that grades 5-7/8ish can be rough, but it gets considerably better. And if not, just start a blog!

You totally should not stop what you're doing. You're a genuinely good singer! I think bowing out of the reality show was a good call though. [Fam was cast in a reality show about assembling the next tween pop group, but left when she was allegedly encouraged to be more competitive and start dramz with other other members of the group].

Fam:
I'll take that, good advice. I didn't want to target anyone out of the group, you know? I would never stomp on anyone's dreams.

2b1b:
I think that was a good move. It would have painted you as this fame-hungry tween and clearly that's not who you are. Well, I'm pretty sure we just became best friends, but I have one last question for you...I see that one of your biggest supporters is Sean “Barney Rubble” of Death Row Players fame. Can you, or can you not help me attain my personal life goal of meeting Dr. Dre? I am not too big to beg an 11-year-old girl.

Fam:
Well if you could write a blog on Famous Teen Traxx, maybe we can make some arrangement...

2b1b:
Muhaha...consider it DONE. Well thank you so much for your time, Ms. Fam! We can't wait for the release of "Show Off"!

Fam:
And we are rooting for you. Thanks!

2b1b:
PSHHH, stop. If you need any more advice from my anthology of middle school meltdowns, just holler.

Carl Winslow + CJ Fam = BFF4LYFE, OBVS

I wanna FAQ you like an animal

Q: WELL, WELL, WELL...

A: I know.

Q: WELLITY, WELLITY, WELLITY...

A: I know.

Q: SIR WELLINGSTEIN, WELLINGSTEIN, WELLINGSTEIN...

A: That's bold of you to give a Jew a courtesy title.

Q: Oh-ho no you don't. You're not getting out of this one with a little lighthearted anti-Semitism. Where the hell have you been?

A: I've—

Q: NOPE. Don't care. Bigger fish to fry. First things first: is Larry Hagman alive?

A:

As of 3:45am on April 15, 2011, Larry Hagman is...alive!

Q: Good, because if he was dead, you'd have a ten-gallon hat full of eco-friendly blood on your hands, madam.

A: I know.

Q: Now you you may explain yourself. Where have you been?

A: On hiatus.

Q: Well, thanks so much for letting us know!

A: I know. It's complicated. I was nervous to—

Q: Don't care. So why the hiatus? Abortion? Alien abduction? Mental breakdown? Each explanation is slightly more likely than the last.

A: No, Adams Media hired us to write another book.

Q: Wait, really?

A: Yeah!

Q: When's it due?

A: May 3rd.

Q: But aren't you still working on the first book?

A: Oooof, yes. Hence the hiatus.

Q: Well, again, you could have told us.

A: Yeah, but again, I was worried that—

Q: And again, I don't really care. So how's the second book coming?

A: ..................................................................................

Q: Oh, you simple country ham.

A: I have nothing but faith that it's going to be great when we're done, but getting there has been exponentially harder than last time. Like, if writing a book is like giving birth to a baby, we delivered the first one when we bent over to pick up a dinner mint and sneezed at the same time and it slid right out of us. This second book, however, has been hard labor and delivery. And we keep getting our room changed, and it's been 14 hours and we're only dilated to three, and the doctor wants to do a C-section but that wasn't part of our birth plan and we're really adamant about delivering it naturally and our husband is in the hall fighting with the doctor and we can hear everything and it's like, this isn't the environment we wanted to welcome our baby into the world in, you know? But I mean, either way we get a healthy baby in the end, so it's not a big deal.

Q: Bent over...and sneezed.

A: Right.

Q: And it "slid" right out of you.

A: Accurate.

Q: Well, I'm very sorry you have to work hard.

A: I'm not complaining, I'm just explaining.

Q: Oh yeah? Are you also straining? While doing some weight training? Careful, it looks like you're waning!

A: So you saw Happy Gilmore on ABC Family the other night too?

Q: ...Yes. Alright, so you're writing a second book and you'll be done in a few weeks, good for you.

A: Thank you.

Q: I still think you're just horrible.

A: Well, I thought you might.

Q: Just to keep you in your place, here's an alphabetized list of reasons why you and your blog suck:

A: Alienates readers

B: Blogs are lame

C: Complains too much

D: Depression isn't interesting

E: Embarrassing to our country when abroad

F: Font is irritatingly small

G: Grammatically retarded

H: Hard to get through

I: Inconvenient to my schedule

J: Just get a fucking job already

K: Keep trying to get sponsors, it looks like that's really working for you

L: Links don't open in a new window

M: Misuses idioms

N: Never posts anymore

O: Over (as in, this blog is)

P: PayPal button? Really?

Q: Queer Abby was good/horrible, why did you get rid of it?/I don't read humor blogs for advice

R: "Retarded" offends me

S: Self-involved

T: Trust Fund Kid

U: Ungrateful

V: Vocally supports CJ Fam

W: Wordy

X: XXX posts without the NSFW warning; thanks

Y: Because I hate you

Z: ZOOTECHNICS!

A: You kind of lost it at the end there, huh?

Q: Well, I couldn't think of anything else that started with a Z.

A: What about, "Zero talent"?

Q: 'Eh. It doesn't really pack the same punch as "Zootechnics", does it?

A: Yeah, but at least it's relevant.

Q: Look, are you aware that you suck?

A: Yes.

Q: Than my job is done here.

A: What does "Zootechnics" even mean?

Q: It's the art of managing domestic or captive animals.

A: Is it really?

Q: Swear to God.

A: Huh. Well. That's good to know.

Q: So will you go back to blogging regularly after you turn in the manuscript?

A: Of course.

Q: What about between now and then?

A: I'll try to be better about getting some stuff up, but you have to understand that Adams's got our balls in a vice (God bless them). (Adams Media, that is. Not our balls.) (Although bless them too.)

Q: Speaking of us, where's Tulane Chris in all of this?

A: He's finishing his last few weeks of grad school and has a part-time job and is writing the book with me.

Q: Is he going to come back after the manuscript is done?

A: Yes. After May 3rd, everything goes back to normal.

Q: I miss him. What's new with him?

A: WELL, he's really excited about writing the second book and texts me a lot to say as much. Which is awkward because my texts to him are primarily about how I keep waking up having panic attacks.

Q: God, you must be fun to work with.

A: Well, I also text him about my bowel movements.

Q: Speaking of working with you, I applied to be your intern and haven't heard back. What gives?

A: Yeah, we're getting back to people this weekend. I'm sorry about that.

Q: SPEAKING OF THIS WEEKEND, what's tomorrow little missy?!?!!??!!

A: Sigh. My birthday.

Q: And how old are you turning?

A: Sigh. 26.

Q: Why can't that be a good thing? Why does everything have to be so sad and hard and horrible for you, Meghan?

A: I don't know. 26 sounds so old. And not like "ahhh, my eggs have been in the back of the refrigerator for two months and now we can't make french toast!" old, but like, mature old. Like I should have my shit together by now but I don't. I mean, don't you think it's kind of pathetic that I'm a 26-year-old single blogger who sucks dick to pay her cable bill?

Q: Of course I think that's pathetic. That is pathetic. Everything you do is pathetic. That's why I read this blog.

A: Well, at least I have that. I guess.

Q: So what are you doing for your birthday?

A: Hopefully my granddaughter will take me to Stein Mart and I can get a new pair of slacks.

Q: Is she driving already??

A: Can you believe it? She also just got the lead in her school play.

Q: You don't say! What production is it?

A: Damn Yankees!

Q: Ohhhhh, so she's Lola? How fun!

A: No, actually she's The Devil.

Q: Isn't that a boy's part?

A: Well she's aggressive for her age.

Q: Do you think people will know that that last joke was a page from your real life?

A: Uh, I hope so. I was proud of that performance. Besides, Lola's overrated and if The Devil was good enough for Jerry Lewis, it's good enough for me.

Q: Yes, who needs the role of a sexy temptress when you can be Jerry Lewis for a night in a tweed suit and a pair of children's Spanx.

A: Look, I could have done Lola. I could done the hell out of Lola. But Monica Stein was a year older than me and had drama camp seniority, so she got to be Lola and I got the next lead which was The Devil. Besides, The Devil is a heavily nuanced character and requires the comedic timing and improv skills of someone like myself.

Q: Oh, really?? Well tell you what, why don't I just get on the horn with SNL and let them know that there's a soon-to-be published comedy writer who did a mean nuanced gender-neutral Devil at drama camp when she was 13, so they should probably get on that before "The Daily Show" snags her first.

A: I don't think that's the worst idea you've ever had.

Q: Oh, didn't you have some hippie announcement to make?

A: Yes! Freshman Roommate Rachel, who is one of my favorite human beings on the planet (and gave me a mood ring last night, so you know she's legit), needs your help. Rachel volunteers as a volunteer coordinator (META!) for Hands on DC. Hands on DC is an all volunteer non-profit that beautifies shitty, run-down DC schools so kids are motivated to actually go to school and get an education. (My words, not theirs.) HODC is holding their 17th annual Work-a-Thon Sunday Saturday April 30th, and they're in desperate need of volunteers and general donations. If you're looking for some good karma this Spring, you can join an existing team, register your own team, or make a general contribution on their website. For more information you can go to Hands on DC's website, Facebook page, or email me and I'll get you in touch with Rachel. I wish I could make a 2b1b team, but Chris and I will be hopped up on Adderall and meth at my parent's house trying to finish the manuscript on April 30th, and there's just no two ways about it. But just because I'm a horrible human being doesn't mean you have to be! Empower DC's youth! Make love not war! Kumbaya and such and such!

Q: Rachel is such a good person.

A: Oh my God, I know.

Q: It seems kind of odd that she likes you so much...

A: Alright, alright. Any more questions?

Q: Uh....none that I can think of. Oh! What do you want for your birthday?

A: Electrolysis.

Q: Electrolysis? That's...oddly specific. And...odd. Didn't your mom get you that Bliss at-home strip-free waxing kit from The Q a couple weeks ago?

A: Yes.

Q: Did you try it?

A: Yes.

Q: How'd it go?

A: HORRIBLY. It was so horribly horrible. I wrote an entire post about it but realized as I re-read it at 4 o'clock in the morning that people probably don't give a shit about my personal waxing debacle.

Q: What went so wrong?

A: Oh, God. It's such a long story.

Q: Well, give us the long and short of it.

A: I tried to multi-task and read the waxing directions, eat a club sandwich, and watch a documentary about the Mothman that Netflix keeps recommending to me at the same time, and ended up missing the directions stressing the importance of using the Pre-Waxing Oil. It was a show. I couldn't get any of the wax off and it was all over my face and left arm pit, so I tried taking a gently-used Chipotle napkin, sticking it on the wax and ripping it off, but that obviously didn't work, so I still had hunks of blue wax stuck on me everywhere, just with bits of guac-soaked napkin in it and finally I had to take a bath and soak it off in hot water and scrub my face but I was too scared to close my eyes from watching the fucking Mothman documentary, so I got acne scrub in my eyes and that made me have to close my eyes even more and I almost had a panic attack and there's still blue wax all over my person and my bathroom.

Q: ..............I mean, what am I supposed to say to that?

A: I don't know.

Q: I think we should end this here.

A: Are you sure? I have some thoughts on Eminem/Dr. Dre's 1999 hit "Guilty Conscious" that I'd like to explore, if I could.

Q: Have a great weekend, everyone.

Kicking off the year right with some sweet, hot FAQ-ing

Q: Well, well, well...look what the cat dragged in.

A: Sigh. I guess I deserved that. Hello again to you.

Q: Where have you been?

A: It was the holidays! We were on vacation!

Q: Do you think you really do enough around here to warrant a "vacation"?

A: I have my productive moments here and there, thank you.

Q: I'm going to move on because it's the New Year and I'm feeling forgiving.

A: And I thank you for it.

Q: So how was your little vacation?

A: Not bad, thanks.

Q: What did you and Chris do?

A: Chris did a lot of jet-setting, I got heinously sick, almost died, slowly bounced back, and watched a lot of House Hunters International on my parent's couch.

Q: Sounds about right. You ever going to get your tonsils out?

A: You ever going to start your own blog like you're always talking about?

Q: ..............Touché. Speaking of your parents, how are Rich and Di?

A: Uh, incredibly sick of me, I'm sure.

Q: Why?

A: I divided my time at their house evenly between following my mom around and asking her for "hugsies", shouting colorful racial slurs at Evie, and making fun of my dad's Panamanian Relaxation Room.

Q: Well you just sound like a little treat, don't you? No wonder you're single.

A: IT'S A LIFESTYLE CHOICE.

Q: Well I just don't have the physical or emotional strength to touch that comment with a 30-foot pole, so let's just get down to brass tacks, shall we? Three fiscal quarters ago you said you guys had some big news. What gives?

A: We do have big news! And we can finally tell you! Chris and I are writing a book!

Q: What, like just for funsies?

A: No, like for realzies. Like someone is paying us.

Q: In Confederate dollars?

A: NOPE, get this—in American dollars. Like, legal tender.

Q: STFU!

A: I know, right?!

Q: I can't believe you didn't tell us sooner, a-hole!

A: I know! I wanted to, but we couldn't for legal reasons. But if it makes you feel any better, I swear I was thinking about you the entire time, baby.

Q: Were you really?

A: No. Well, some of the time. Mostly I was just thinking about which utilities usually get shut off first so I know in what order to pay my bills.

Q: What came out on top?

A: Cable and Internet.

Q: You really struggle with that one, don't you?

A: I really do.

Q: How much do you pay a month, if you don't mind me asking?

A: I refuse to tell you because I'm fully aware of how astronomically high it is and I don't want another lecture.

Q: You know, if you call Comcast and ask them what they can do to lower your bill, they're usually pretty helpful.

A: So I've been told.

Q: So why don't you just do it?

A: Honestly? Because it sounds like a giant pain in the ass and a huge hassle and like a conversation I don't want to have and I just...can't. There it is. I just can't.

Q: So, it's easier to wait for a book deal to come along than to have a 20-minute phone conversation with—

A: Please just get back to questions about the book. I'm begging you.

Q: So will this be another literary treat from the fine people at Olney Elementary School Press?

A: No! We were approached by a legit publisher, if you can believe that.

Q: Well, frankly I can't, so let's name names.

A: We're very excited to be working with Adams Media.

Q: What else have they published?

A: UHHH, just a little slice of the American Literary Pie called Why Men Love Bitches. No big deal.


Q: So what's your book? Why Men Love Lazy, Apathetic Bloggers?

A: No. Mostly because I've discovered that they do not, but we are writing a tong-in-cheek guide to life for misanthropes.

Q: What's a misanthrope?

A: Well, you'll just have to wait and buy our book to find out. And/or Google it.

Q: Per Wikipedia: Misanthropy is generalized dislike, distrust, disgust, contempt or hatred of the human species, human nature, or society. A misanthrope is someone who holds such views or feelings.

Well, they certainly came to the right people.

A: That's what I said!

Q: I don't mean to rain on your little parade here, but do you think it's flattering that when they needed an author for a book about misanthropes, they came to you?

A: Here's the thing, I'm honestly not an anti-social person. In fact, I think I'm incredibly social! I'm just social with people I deem worthy of being social with. It's everyone else who can go to hell.

Q: Yeah...I think you just defined "misanthrope" right there.

A: Well, either way, I'm excited and it's been fun to write.

Q: How much progress have you guys made thus far?

A: We've written a chapter and some other stuffs.

Q: You've written a chapter and "some other stuffs", she says. Watch out David Sedaris.

A: Alright, alright...pipe down.

Q: So you've joined the ranks of blogs-turned-books, 'eh?

A: Well, not really. The book is going to be 100% new material and has nothing to do with the blog, except that we're writing it.

Q: If I liked the blog, will I like the book?

A: Well, I stress again that we only have a chapter and some other...works, but yes, from what we have so far, I think you will. I wrote a pretty solid Olive Garden joke last night that I was particularly proud of.

Q: If I hate your blog, will I like the book?

A: Ah, sure.

Q: How's the collaboration with Chris going?

A: For two people who "don't work well with others", absurdly well!

Q: O0o0ooo00ooo! Think there's any chance that this project will rekindle some old romantic flames?

A: Probably not.

Q: Why?

A: Because he's a homosexual and I'm still stalking John Larroquette.

Q: And how's that going for you?

A: Not...well.

Q: While I applaud you for getting a book deal, I'm scared that you're going to go the way of so many blogs-turned-books and stop posting all together.

A: What do you care, I thought you didn't like us?

Q: I don't, but that doesn't mean I don't read you everyday.

A: Wait...are you Mike?

Q: No, I'm your subconscious.

A: ARE THEY ONE IN THE SAME?! Is "Mike" the manifestation of my innermost fears and anxieties about my writing?

Q: No, I'm pretty sure he's a real person with a large amount of time on his hands and decent Internet access.

A: Great, you just opened the flood gates for an obnoxious comment re: that statement.

Q: Well, someones got to keep him from jerking off in the bathroom. Now answer the question.

A: We won't stop posting. Girl Scout's honor. 2b1b isn't going anywhere.

Q: That doesn't inspire much confidence; we all know you were a piss-poor Girl Scout.

A: I swear on Friar Tuck's Key of Technology that we'll keep posting.

Q: And I'll take it! Are you putting the book out in your pen name or real name?

A: Real name.

Q: Oh shit, so you're outing yourself?

A: Yep.

Q: So what's your real last name?

A: Well I'm not going to tell you now!

Q: Why not? Gotta do it some time.

A: I don't know...this just seems so...anti-climactic.

Q: We're outing your last name, not finding Osama.

A: I don't know. It feels weird.

Q: Well, when's the book coming out?

A: I'm not entirely sure, but we'll obviously keep you posted.

Q: Can you come to my town for a book signing slash hang-out session??

A: We'd love to! But I'm not sure how that works yet. You can always shoot us an email and we'll forward it to our editor so he knows what's up.

Q: It's going to be embarrassing when no one does that.

A: MIKE!

Q: So now that you finally got a book deal, is this the end of the old Meggles as we know it? Are you up there on your high-horse, all too good for your shit-show of a life now?

A: Well, considering since getting said book deal I've had not one, but two credit cards denied at a walk-in clinic and recently paid for a tall Earl Grey tea at Starbucks with, I shit you not, a Ziploc bag full of nickels and dimes so I could mooch off their wi-fi, I'd say no, I don't think much has really changed. I'm pretty sure I'm still not even on a horse, nevertheless a particularly high one.

Q: Good. Because I like you down there in the mud.

A: Well, here I shall be if you need me.

Q: So I'll see you here tomorrow?

A: I w...ouldn't have it any other way.

Q: ...You were going to say, "I wish I could quit you," weren't you?

A: Is that "over"? That's over, right?

Q: Yeah. It's a little 2005.

A: So what's the 2011 equivalent?

Q: I don't know. You're the one people pay to be funny.

A: I will........see....you..tomorrow.

Q: Can't wait for the book, Meg.