Believe it or not, drinking, watching Dynasty and being awkward aren't the only things that I'm good at. (Although I am extremely good at all three.) I'm also incredibly crafty. And I don't mean that in the devious, cunning kind of way. (Although, let's not lie; I'm that too.) I mean that in a I-can-arts-and-crafts-your-fucking-face-off kind of way. Yeah. I said it. Bold statement. AND I'M STANDING BY IT. Need a book bound? ON IT. Invitations designed? DID 'EM ALREADY. Adorable holiday cards made? EMBOSSED AND ALREADY IN THE MAIL. Something crocheted? I KNOW AN SINGLE STITCH, SO I HOPE YOU LIKE SCARVES.
Working where I'm working again has really reignited my love of DIY and crafting. I have like 5,000 projects lined up that I want to do and at the top of that list is making a graduation present for old Ex Co-Blogger Eddie. Unfortunately before I could do that, I had to find all of my design/art/craft supplies packed away from college somewhere in my parent's basement; a task I tackled yesterday. I thought I had like, one meager shopping bag with a few supplies in it, but holy jumping Jehoshaphat—I found an extra large packing box labeled "Meg's Arts & Crafts Supplies" FILLED with supplies yesterday and fucking creamed my pants. (Vom. I'm so sorry.)
The box contained the following: (Absolutely nobody is going to appreciate this except maybe Ex Co-Blogger Eddie, who's a crafty bitch and worked at said establishment in college as well, so...you're welcome!)
- 10 packs of assorted 8.5 x 11 papers, cover and text - Heating tool - 4 different kinds of embossing powders - 2 different width hole punches - MY ROUNDED CORNER PUNCH - two roles of brand new Incredi-tape (!) - endless amounts of book board, book cloth, text blocks, needles, awls and screwposts - an entire tub of unused PVA - a 5" Xyron machine with 2 refills - stack of assorted decorative 12 x 12 paper - baby envelope template - collection of envelope liner templates ranging from 4bar to #10 - 1 pack of X-Acto blade replacements - 10 yards of 2" double satin curry ribbon - self-healing cutting mat - 2 rulers - 1 T-square (the T-square I've had since freshman year! BAHHH OLD FRIEND!) - 2 unopened glue sticks - 1 pack of photo corners - 2 pairs of really nice Tonic scissors - 2 boxes of 11 x 17 cover weight matte Epson printer paper - 1 box of 11 x 17 cover weight glossy Epson printer paper - 1 pack of origami paper - 1 pack of portfolio sleeves - 4 easel backs - 1 pot of India ink - 1 fountain pen with 7 different nibs - 4 mounting boards - 1 Bristol board pad - Rotary cutter - Utility knife - ALL of my negatives from any photo I took in college, ever - old CONTACT SHEETS, CONTACT SHEETS, CONTACT SHEETS
...Pardon my geeking out, but that is a big fucking deal. I could supply a small charter school with that. I mean, I won't. But I could. Also, two random side notes regarding that list:
1.) Uh, Print Design was a fucking expensive major. That 20% off coupon at Plaza that AU supplied us with at the beginning of the year was pretty much worth fuck all. Kudos to me for going to the $42,000 a year school and majoring in pissing on solid gold...
2.) There was a contact sheet from a photoshoot College Roommate Danielle took of me Senior year and crickey I was skinny as shit. I think that primarily had to do with the fact that I didn't really eat that year because I was so ungodly busy and stressed out all the time, but, man. Sometimes I really wish I had the willpower to sustain an eating disorder because I looked good.
So kudos to my dad for finding and unloading all that shit from my car when I went abroad after graduation and hiding it in a clearly marked box in the basement. HA HA, you, sir, are tricky. And I am simple. And together, it took me three years to find a box filled with a babillion dollars worth of art supplies. Oh, mercy.
My favorite part of going through the box was when I found a small Paper Source bag marked "Sentimental Stuff." I was like, "Oh god, this is going to have all sorts of long and meaningful graduation letters from friends and family, pictures, little things that inspired me...I better sit down when I go through this because things might get a little eMoTiOnAL!" So I sat down, took a deep breath, opened the bag and spilled out it's contents. And I swear to god, this is what was inside:
1.) A photograph of Joanna Lumley as Patsy Stone from Absolutely Fabulous
2.) A mini-flask key chain
3.) A haiku my friend Meli wrote for me on the back of a gum wrapper one day in Info Graphics:
A Haiku for Meg Designer of smut Enjoys S&M designs The next E. Lupton
4.) A list of t-shirts Alex and I were going to make during the Summer of '06:
- (Front:) "Aw Skeet, Skeet motherfucker" (Back:) "Aw Skeet Ulrich has game (geographically speaking)"
- "I'd go gay for Gwen Stefani"
- Conversely, "I'd go straight for Gwen Stefani"
- (Front:) "I Survived the Haunted Olney Ghost Tour" (Back:) "...Barely"
5.) The Fall 2006 lineup of a fictional adult Nickelodeon channel I call, Dickelodeon:
- Who Would You Do?
- Dick's Wild 'n' Crazy Kids
- The Adventures of Pete on Pete
- Salute My Shorts
- Hey, Prude!
And that's the ballgame.
...Soooo, just to recap, when cleaning out my apartment, those are the things that I felt a deep attachment to, physically put in a bag, took out a Sharpie and marked "Sentimental Stuff."
Can we please talk about Mathew Lillard? Day 1 of Funemployment and that's pretty much all I want to do: discuss Matthew Lillard. Mateo. La Lillard, if you will. Matthew Lillard is very much an odd fascination of mine. In my mind, Matthew Lillard exists in a Bio-101 style terrarium made out of an empty Pepsi bottle filled with potting soil and worms where he perpetually wears an oversized v-neck sweater and a thumb ring. Because that's all I think of when I think of Mathew Lillard: an oversized V-neck sweater, a thumb ring and lots of physical animation. It's like he's a Never-Nude, but an Always-in-90's-Garb. Sometimes I like to imagine him in a various situations—grocery shopping; at movie premiers; working out at the gym; in the shower; at his own wedding—but always in an oversized v-neck sweater and thumb ring. And this, for some ungodly reason, is just endlessly funny to me. I can't explain it. It's like how I can't not laugh when I think about the fact that Asher Roth loves college. And just like the fact that Asher Roth loves college, I think it about it way too often to be deemed normal.
I was out at Big Hunt with Becky Friday night, having drinks and catching up, as you do, when we for some reason started discussing random actors that nobody thinks of anymore and how odd it is that they still exist. Becky's example? "Like...like, I don't know—Mathew Lillard."
The second she finished saying "—illard", I 100% Aspied out. I choked on my beer and my eyes bugged out of my head like I was in a god damn Warner Brother's cartoon. I'm pretty sure Becky already thinks I'm significantly bizarre, so I don't think it helped anything that when I finally regained my composure, I slammed my hands on the table, looked her dead in the eyes and in a voice 10 octaves lower than normal said:
I. THINK. ABOUT. MATHEW LILLARD. CONSTANTLY.
Becky stared at me as if I...well, frankly as if I had just said that I think about Matthew Lillard "constantly." I tried to explain the origin of my Lillard obsession, but I really have no idea where it came from. It's not like I was a huge fan of his growing up. I mean, Scream is a classic, obviously, and SLC Punk is awesome, sure, but I wouldn't say he delivered an obsession-worthy performance in either. I honestly think my fixation with Matthew Lillard started one night in college when Alex, Helena and I watched Scream and found ourselves sitting in the darkness giggling back and forth like a couple of 12-year-olds going, "HAHA......Matthew Lillard," over and over again. That's it. That's all it took. The concept of Matthew Lillard is just that funny for some reason. I'm apt to blame it on the oversized v-neck sweater/thumb ring situation, of course, but we'll never really know why for sure. All that matters is an obsession was born. We even wanted to make t-shirts that said "VIVA LA LILLARD!" that summer, a plan I'm still upset never came to fruition.
Things only got more Lillard-tastic a year later when College Roommate Danielle and I went to a party at the Rugby House one Saturday night. I should mention that this was just a bizarre night in general. Have you ever had one of those nights where there's a really weird and ominous vibe in the air and you know something's up, but you don't know what? Well, that was this night. Later, of course we'd find out that this was the night when the Rugby House would get busted by the cops and all us (just barely) under 21 party-goers would get sold down the river to keep the cops from exploring the house, as there was a metric ton of opium and cocaine in the next room, but! That's a much different story for a much different day.
Now, in college we hung out at the Rugby House quite a lot. It was our party spot. Or, as much of a "party spot" as you can have at AU, I guess. A bunch of our friends, including Ex-Co-Blogger Eddie, lived there and we pretty much always knew or knew of everyone at their parties. This night in question, however, the most random fucking people on god's green earth were in attendance—including Matthew Lillard's Doppelganger.
Danielle and I became obsessed with this kid. We had no idea where he came from or if he even went to our school at all. It was a freezing cold night in December and all of a sudden this kid sauntered into the party without a coat or friend to his name, just lookin' to hang. And as his name suggests, he looked just like Matthew Lillard. He was tall, lanky, had sandy blonde hair and sharp features and I shit you not, was wearing a green v-neck sweater, a bona fide silver thumb ring and (BONUS ROUND!) had a single silver hoop dangling in his left ear. He was a specimen. Danielle and I cornered him in the kitchen and berated him with questions. Things were going fine until I asked him if he was aware that he looks exactly like Matthew Lillard.
"Who's Matthew Lillard?" he asked.
"You know, Matthew Lillard!" I explained. "The guy from Scream and SLC Punk and She's All That. He's like the international That Guy."
It was as if I told him he looked like if Hilter and Joan Rivers had a pig-baby. His mood immediately became 98% less jovial and he stared at me with hatred in his eyes.
"You honestly shouldn't be offended," I said, "It's a compliment! We love Mathew Lillard! VIVA LA LILLARD!
He paused for a moment, legitimately told me to go fuck myself and vanished for the rest of the party. I was so confused. Last time I checked Matthew Lillard was a 90's movie legend who got his stomach licked by Taylor Vaughan. Cool out, kid and take a compliment where you can get 'em. You are wearing an earring, after all.
A few hours later, we all found ourselves sitting Indian-style on the disguising Rugby House floor as Montgomery County's finest issued us underage drinking citations, a charge that would later be expunged from everyone else's records after 24 hours of community service but due to "complications" landed me with three years unsupervised probation and is forever ingrained in the MCPD computer system. What were these complications? Uh, being Meghan McBlogger. Obviously. But again, that's another story for another day. After receiving my citation, I stood in the driveway hugging myself for warmth as I waited for Danielle and wondered how the hell we were going to get home. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Matthew Lillard's Doppelganger reappeared, sprinted past me, stopped in the middle of the street, turned back around and with two raised fists of glory in the air shouted, "I AM OUTTA HERE, YOU BITCHES!!!!! GOODNIGHT!!!!" and continued to run off into oblivion.
".......Did Matthew Lillard's Doppleganger just scamper off into the woods like a mythical forest creature?" Danielle asked as she walked up behind me holding her citation.
"I.........think so?" I said, somewhat trepidatiously.
"Yeah. It's clearly time to go." And with that we started the long journey home.
To this day I have no idea who that kid was or how he found himself at a Rugby Party in the middle of the woods in Bethesda, Maryland. I just know I think Christ every single day that he did. He enriched the legend that is Sleepy Matthew Lillard exponentially and I am eternally grateful.
Becky really got me thinking about Matthew Lillard again on Friday night, specifically about how I don't really know much about his career as of late. I mean, what exactly did he do after Scooby Doo, right? The answer? He played Lloyd B'Gosh in four minute short in 2009 about Osh Kosh B'Gosh titledOsh Kosh B'Gosh: Under the Overall. Because if anything ever needed to be purchased, framed and hung directly over my bed, it is the movie poster for that. You know that form of OCD, Objectum-Sexuality Disorder, where people fall in love with inanimate objects like the Golden Gate Bridge or Eiffel Tower? Welp, I have it and I am officially in love with and very sexually attracted to that movie title. We are getting married. It'll be a small ceremony with family and friends. You're all invited. Mozel tov to us.
In addition to starring in my husband, Matthew Lillard also entered a Dungeons and Dragons tournament in 2005 against members of the Quest Club Gaming Organization at the Magic Castle in Hollywood. And even better, it's on youtbe. I leave you now with a clip and ask you an important question—have you thought about your local Matthew Lillard lately? Viva la Lillard!
Posts
