today i was on the plane...and this is what happened...
i'm in the back galley. by myself. reading the news paper. i'm in the middle of the sports pages, and i read a disturbing fact, and i say out loud "oh my gosh, baylor is #6?", and as i'm saying this a man walks in my back galley, me and him had some interaction at the beginning of the flight, but he startels me. and now he is just kind of standing there looking at me, grinning. and this is the interaction from there.
man: (still standing there. just grinning. and now he begins mumbling.)
me: ummmm, yes?
man: (grinning. mumbling. and now shuffling his feet.)
me: do you want to go in there? (pointing to the bathroom)
man: (now he's giggling)
me: (i begin giggling)
*enter other flight attendant to back galley
man: (stops giggling. looks guilty)
other flight attendant: morgan, what are you reading about?
me: sports. baylor girls have dropped to #6!
man: (looks at me, his face drops, and then immediately looks as if a light bulb has gone off in his head. he begins laughing.)
*me and other flight attendant are now talking about baylor
man: (interrupting us..) i thought you said 'would you like to have SEX.'
all: (we burst out laughing.)
man: you even asked if i wanted to go in there. i was thinking 'i LOVE southwest airlines'.
me: no!...baylor...basketball....#SIX.....SIX.
man: oh. ok. (returns to his seat)
the end.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Saturday, January 10, 2009
the birds and the bees.
i recently attended my cousin's bachelorette party...at this "party" we discussed how we found out about the birds and the bees. i tell this story the same way every time. i dont know how old i was, but when i was "of age" my mom tells me early in the week that that weekend we were going to have a girls night. dad and cameron were going to have a guys night and we were going to have a girls night. i was pumped. i didnt know what one did on a girl's night...but i'm pretty sure it was awesome. so the night comes, cameron and dad take off to do what boys do. and mom and i were set to leave shortly after. however, she kept delaying out departure. i kept bugging her about leaving and she would tell me we would leave soon and kept doing laundry. laundry? in my mind, how could anything be more important than girls night? then....as i think we're about to leave, she calls me into her bedroom...all serious like. she sits me down, in her serious voice, (my first reaction was...oh, great, i'm in trouble) then she turns on the tv and makes me watch this video. now, if you know me well you know my memory is remarkable. however, i cant tell you anything that was in this video. apparently it was an informational video about sex. all i remember was fuming that this was delaying my girls night. and then i remember that after the video....there WAS NO GIRLS NIGHT. my memory of my disappoint supersedes my supposed newfound knowledge of the the male anatomy. the end. thats how i tell my story.
so i'm talking to my mom about the bachelorette party and what we did and the birds and bees talk comes up. note: i have never talked to my mom about my memories of this night....the one with the alleged girls night. over a decade has passed, and we have never discussed it....until now. so i tell her how i tell that story. she laughs and then tells me something unexpected....'wanna know how i tell that story?' ....what? you TELL this story to people?? so she begins.....she had this special night planned with her daughter. after noting that i was visibly frustrated about our impending 'girls night', she said that she called me into her room, and sat me down, explaining that we were going to watch a video. she hands me the remote and tells me that at any time, if i have any questions that i could pause the video and ask, any question at all. she said my first question was "when are we leaving??" ....she started the video. she says that when the video was almost over and all the info had pretty much been laid on the table, she says i paused the video. the made my mom very excited....she said 'i just knew my intelligent daughter had stopped the video to ask a mature, inventive, logical question.' i stopped the video and i looked at her and said....'soooo... this is how you make a baby?'....yes, she says....and i replied, 'ok, so you and dad dont do that anymore?' in that moment she tells me this, i just about die. as i said before, i dont remember anything about that night.....so i dont remember if she answered the question.....and i was afraid that she was going to answer me now and refresh my memory. she did not. i had a good laugh at my mature, inventive, logical question, and quickly changed the subject.
she has sinced admitted that she lied. there was never going to be a girls night.
so i'm talking to my mom about the bachelorette party and what we did and the birds and bees talk comes up. note: i have never talked to my mom about my memories of this night....the one with the alleged girls night. over a decade has passed, and we have never discussed it....until now. so i tell her how i tell that story. she laughs and then tells me something unexpected....'wanna know how i tell that story?' ....what? you TELL this story to people?? so she begins.....she had this special night planned with her daughter. after noting that i was visibly frustrated about our impending 'girls night', she said that she called me into her room, and sat me down, explaining that we were going to watch a video. she hands me the remote and tells me that at any time, if i have any questions that i could pause the video and ask, any question at all. she said my first question was "when are we leaving??" ....she started the video. she says that when the video was almost over and all the info had pretty much been laid on the table, she says i paused the video. the made my mom very excited....she said 'i just knew my intelligent daughter had stopped the video to ask a mature, inventive, logical question.' i stopped the video and i looked at her and said....'soooo... this is how you make a baby?'....yes, she says....and i replied, 'ok, so you and dad dont do that anymore?' in that moment she tells me this, i just about die. as i said before, i dont remember anything about that night.....so i dont remember if she answered the question.....and i was afraid that she was going to answer me now and refresh my memory. she did not. i had a good laugh at my mature, inventive, logical question, and quickly changed the subject.
she has sinced admitted that she lied. there was never going to be a girls night.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
party in the bathroom.
so i was in new york last week, because, well, basically my job is better than yours and southwest decided to drop me in new york for almost an entire day, so i went into the city to do some shopping. as i'm shopping, and inhaling too many street vendor hot dogs and diet cokes, i decided that i had to pee. and then, like a becon, calling me hither, i see this 
in the middle of times square, the biggest (and strangest) marketing ploys i've ever seen. if the need to pee did not entice me, the sheer curiosity of the whole adventure called me forth. so as i walk up to this, alleged bathroom, there are all these lights and "charmin" people standing outside, and as i walk in, there is a nice man welcoming me through the doors. i've never seen someone so pleasant and excited about the possibility of liquids escaping my body. he directed me up the escalator, that from the bottom, i could not see the top. at this point, i became skeptical, i turned to the nice gentleman and said....there are bathrooms up there....right? he said yes. but then i had another thought....i turned again and said...they are free, right? he laughed, in his nice bathroom attendant way, and again directed me up the escalator. i ascend the escalator, but there is no way, in written or spoken word, that someone could have prepared me for what lay ahead of me at the top of the escalator. there are MORE happy bathroom people. and its like this winter wonderland tissue paper extravaganza. so i stand in the line, completely stunned. it was like entering a different universe. of course there was a line. it was a bathroom. so, in front of me there is a big wall of doors. all of them possibly bathrooms. there are people everywhere shuttling people to and from the line to the bathroom. and it wasnt confirmed yet, but i was pretty sure someone had a microphone. we'll call him the bathroom dj. (i didnt have a problem with this). so i cautiously look around and among other novelties, like a dance floor, and a playground, and plasma tv screens blasting seasame street-esq charmin spots, there was a station that resembles the picture booth you go to when you get off a ride at six flags. i thought, oh no, they're going to take pictures of you while you're in the bathroom. i just know it. how violating. all the time my eyes are getting bigger and bigger. it was the strangest place i'd ever been to. i just had to pee. i didnt need a show. i needed a toilet. or a cup. it's whatever.
i get closer and closer to the front of the line. my heart starts to beat a little faster. the need to pee was growing stronger and i wasnt sure if something was going to jump out and get me or what exactly happened once you get to the front of the line. well i must have looked pretty bewildered, another nice bathroom attendant grabbed my hand and directed me in the direction of one of the doors. finally!! i couldnt wait to get out of that bizarre place. and the worst part about it was that no one was there to experience it with me. that is not a place you need to attempt by yourself. i met up with some friends later, and i wouldnt even tell them my tales of the bathroom. i told them they had to experience it on their own. so finally, it's my turn in one of the many stalls (however, i'm not gonna lie, i was a little disappointed that i didnt get the disco ball room. the guy with the microphone kept talking about it.) so there i am. peeing. minding my own business. and then....it happened. the ground began to shake. there were very loud noises going on right outside my door. and i thought 'oh my gosh, they have sensors that tell you if someone has been in the bathroom too long and i've exceeded the alloted time.' or worse 'jesus. jesus is coming back. jesus is coming back and i'm in a strange charmin alteruniverse' no......this just cannot be happening. so i quickly finished up and got the hell up on out of there. once i busted open my door to escape this place, i realized what was really going on....apparently the charmin "stomp team" came out to the middle of the floor, and they were....stomping. then. they were yelling. "party in the bathroom. party in the bathroom. party in the bathroom" and THEN they tried to get crowd involvement, and since i was the closest one to them, after busting out of my stall i was basically in the middle of them. they tried to get me to join them. tried. i have strict rules about this. dancing, after bathrooming? there has got to be some 30 minutes minimum swimming rule applied here. well, at any rate, after imaginatively talking myself into thinking that the stomp team was the return of the Messiah, dancing was not in the cards for me....i just wanted to leave. and i still had not figured out if i needed to stop by the booth with the pictures to make sure they had not snapped one of me on the john, but hey, maybe it was a good shot, could have been my new facebook profile pic....wait...what am i saying...get out morgan. get out at all costs. so i get out of the "party in the bathroom" crowd, and i make my way out.... well...what i thought was out. but no. i had run right into the duracell power station. at this point i let out a very grinch like "arrgh" and turned right around and asked the nearest charmin bear mascot...yes, the bears from the commercials, how to get out of here. HE tried dancing with me too. i was in no mood. so a nice bathroom attendant directed me to the down escalator, because clearly the charmin mascots cannot talk. clearly. i get down the long escalator. i walk. i do not ride. i get out of the building and back into the hustle of the people in times square, back to the dirt, the grime, the honking and the pushing....and i know i am safe.
in the middle of times square, the biggest (and strangest) marketing ploys i've ever seen. if the need to pee did not entice me, the sheer curiosity of the whole adventure called me forth. so as i walk up to this, alleged bathroom, there are all these lights and "charmin" people standing outside, and as i walk in, there is a nice man welcoming me through the doors. i've never seen someone so pleasant and excited about the possibility of liquids escaping my body. he directed me up the escalator, that from the bottom, i could not see the top. at this point, i became skeptical, i turned to the nice gentleman and said....there are bathrooms up there....right? he said yes. but then i had another thought....i turned again and said...they are free, right? he laughed, in his nice bathroom attendant way, and again directed me up the escalator. i ascend the escalator, but there is no way, in written or spoken word, that someone could have prepared me for what lay ahead of me at the top of the escalator. there are MORE happy bathroom people. and its like this winter wonderland tissue paper extravaganza. so i stand in the line, completely stunned. it was like entering a different universe. of course there was a line. it was a bathroom. so, in front of me there is a big wall of doors. all of them possibly bathrooms. there are people everywhere shuttling people to and from the line to the bathroom. and it wasnt confirmed yet, but i was pretty sure someone had a microphone. we'll call him the bathroom dj. (i didnt have a problem with this). so i cautiously look around and among other novelties, like a dance floor, and a playground, and plasma tv screens blasting seasame street-esq charmin spots, there was a station that resembles the picture booth you go to when you get off a ride at six flags. i thought, oh no, they're going to take pictures of you while you're in the bathroom. i just know it. how violating. all the time my eyes are getting bigger and bigger. it was the strangest place i'd ever been to. i just had to pee. i didnt need a show. i needed a toilet. or a cup. it's whatever.
i get closer and closer to the front of the line. my heart starts to beat a little faster. the need to pee was growing stronger and i wasnt sure if something was going to jump out and get me or what exactly happened once you get to the front of the line. well i must have looked pretty bewildered, another nice bathroom attendant grabbed my hand and directed me in the direction of one of the doors. finally!! i couldnt wait to get out of that bizarre place. and the worst part about it was that no one was there to experience it with me. that is not a place you need to attempt by yourself. i met up with some friends later, and i wouldnt even tell them my tales of the bathroom. i told them they had to experience it on their own. so finally, it's my turn in one of the many stalls (however, i'm not gonna lie, i was a little disappointed that i didnt get the disco ball room. the guy with the microphone kept talking about it.) so there i am. peeing. minding my own business. and then....it happened. the ground began to shake. there were very loud noises going on right outside my door. and i thought 'oh my gosh, they have sensors that tell you if someone has been in the bathroom too long and i've exceeded the alloted time.' or worse 'jesus. jesus is coming back. jesus is coming back and i'm in a strange charmin alteruniverse' no......this just cannot be happening. so i quickly finished up and got the hell up on out of there. once i busted open my door to escape this place, i realized what was really going on....apparently the charmin "stomp team" came out to the middle of the floor, and they were....stomping. then. they were yelling. "party in the bathroom. party in the bathroom. party in the bathroom" and THEN they tried to get crowd involvement, and since i was the closest one to them, after busting out of my stall i was basically in the middle of them. they tried to get me to join them. tried. i have strict rules about this. dancing, after bathrooming? there has got to be some 30 minutes minimum swimming rule applied here. well, at any rate, after imaginatively talking myself into thinking that the stomp team was the return of the Messiah, dancing was not in the cards for me....i just wanted to leave. and i still had not figured out if i needed to stop by the booth with the pictures to make sure they had not snapped one of me on the john, but hey, maybe it was a good shot, could have been my new facebook profile pic....wait...what am i saying...get out morgan. get out at all costs. so i get out of the "party in the bathroom" crowd, and i make my way out.... well...what i thought was out. but no. i had run right into the duracell power station. at this point i let out a very grinch like "arrgh" and turned right around and asked the nearest charmin bear mascot...yes, the bears from the commercials, how to get out of here. HE tried dancing with me too. i was in no mood. so a nice bathroom attendant directed me to the down escalator, because clearly the charmin mascots cannot talk. clearly. i get down the long escalator. i walk. i do not ride. i get out of the building and back into the hustle of the people in times square, back to the dirt, the grime, the honking and the pushing....and i know i am safe.
Monday, March 17, 2008
morgan thinks she's black....again.
i have a story.
so emily, because shes such a big wig over there at the bank, she gets tickets to great things. things like the african american chamber of commerce of greater houston banquet. and shes even so great, that Chase gives her tickets for her friends to attend this blessed event as well. seeing as i am 75% african american (thank you juva), i was the obvious choice for her to take as her date. this sort of thing is right up my alley. it also happens to be up our friend Trevina's alley, shes 100% african american (thank you trevina's parents). well, lets just start with our attire for the evening. we all show up in black dresses. i'm wearing my slightly more scandalous black dress because emily told me to. it was a jedi mind trick. so we're all pretty dressy. we show up just as everyone is settling down and the speaker approaches the mic. A nice studly black man gives me his arm to walk us to our table. (at this point everyone is seated and the speaker has started speaking) and he just keeps walking up closer and closer to the front. and i kindly say to him, um wow, we keep walking to the front. and he says "yes, you've got table 13, its the very front table" ...i mean...couldnt they put the whitey's in the back or something. have we learned nothing from rosa parks? oh and did i mention that we are by far the youngest people there. so they are walking three young girls in little black fancy dresses to the front. suddenly, i felt like the entertainment for the night. well we sit down. and the fun continues. we all stood up for a prayer, from none other than reverend nunely. i'm not kidding. reverend nunely. i told you this was right up my alley. i mean i got family. so he blesses us. then just as the three of us begin to sit down, they ask us to remain standing as we all sing the negro national anthem. if you think i'm kidding. i'm not. so here we are. young whitey singing the negro national anthem. now at this point it started to feel like being a baptist at a catholic mass. i didnt know if i was allowed to say the words, i didnt know whether to stand up or sit down, and i definitely didnt know the tune. safe to say i did a lot of fidgeting and darting eyes. and if that just wasnt enough. there was a man walking around taking pictures. and this is the moment that he decides to snap one of me and emily. in the middle of the negro national anthem. i just knew my face would be flashed on newstands statewide the next day. "whitey leads african american counsel in the negro national anthem. hope and change."
we finally sit ourselves down for a delicious meal. and entertainment. entertainment was provided by the one and only cecil shaw. i dont know if you've heard of him,he's kind of a big deal. he sang the classics. what's going on, yesterday, and let's get it on. yes. let's get it on. it is at this point i wondered why i didnt not go to more african american events such as this. then it came time for the speeches. and they were all pretty calm.... except for the last one. he starts going off about how we gotta get involved. gotta get involved with the children, the education, the churches, and the meteor. um....the meteor? so i tune out of this little speech. except for the part where he was being all politically correct, until he started going off about the retards. yes....kept shouting from the makeshift pulpit about the retartds. or as everyone else over the age of 13 calls them, mentally challenged...but whatever. the more pressing issue was that of the meteors. i mean he was passionate about these meteors. i started to think... what meteors? why was i not informed of the meteors? should i be doing something to prevent the meteors? it was not until riding in the car that emily pointed out her concern for the meteors.....until she realized that he was talking about the MEDIA. media? are you kidding me? i can excuse 'how ya'll durin' as how ya'll doing.....but just how do you get media from meteor??? i guess i can throw away all those 'save the meteor' posters.
well at the end of the night we decide that it would be a good idea to take a picture with the entertainment...cecil shaw. i mean...who doesnt want their picture with a large black man in an electric blue suit singing lets get it on? and it was a good idea...until he began to accost us. 'so girls do you have a myspace?' uhhhh...... and he wouldnt let it go. he had to go out to his car to get us some "business" "cards"...which turned out to be his homemade cd 'cecil shaw sings the classics' and he continues with his stories about ray charles....'you girls seen the movie Ray?' ...no cecil shaw i cant say that i have.... 'well in that movie he says that cecil shaw is his favorite singer'...yeah, whatever old man. ...well we went and looked it up and had a good laugh at the fact that ray does, in fact, say that cecil shaw is his favorite singer. so basically he's rock star now.
they have yet to ask us back to any other african american chamber of commerce events....i cant imagine why.
so emily, because shes such a big wig over there at the bank, she gets tickets to great things. things like the african american chamber of commerce of greater houston banquet. and shes even so great, that Chase gives her tickets for her friends to attend this blessed event as well. seeing as i am 75% african american (thank you juva), i was the obvious choice for her to take as her date. this sort of thing is right up my alley. it also happens to be up our friend Trevina's alley, shes 100% african american (thank you trevina's parents). well, lets just start with our attire for the evening. we all show up in black dresses. i'm wearing my slightly more scandalous black dress because emily told me to. it was a jedi mind trick. so we're all pretty dressy. we show up just as everyone is settling down and the speaker approaches the mic. A nice studly black man gives me his arm to walk us to our table. (at this point everyone is seated and the speaker has started speaking) and he just keeps walking up closer and closer to the front. and i kindly say to him, um wow, we keep walking to the front. and he says "yes, you've got table 13, its the very front table" ...i mean...couldnt they put the whitey's in the back or something. have we learned nothing from rosa parks? oh and did i mention that we are by far the youngest people there. so they are walking three young girls in little black fancy dresses to the front. suddenly, i felt like the entertainment for the night. well we sit down. and the fun continues. we all stood up for a prayer, from none other than reverend nunely. i'm not kidding. reverend nunely. i told you this was right up my alley. i mean i got family. so he blesses us. then just as the three of us begin to sit down, they ask us to remain standing as we all sing the negro national anthem. if you think i'm kidding. i'm not. so here we are. young whitey singing the negro national anthem. now at this point it started to feel like being a baptist at a catholic mass. i didnt know if i was allowed to say the words, i didnt know whether to stand up or sit down, and i definitely didnt know the tune. safe to say i did a lot of fidgeting and darting eyes. and if that just wasnt enough. there was a man walking around taking pictures. and this is the moment that he decides to snap one of me and emily. in the middle of the negro national anthem. i just knew my face would be flashed on newstands statewide the next day. "whitey leads african american counsel in the negro national anthem. hope and change."
we finally sit ourselves down for a delicious meal. and entertainment. entertainment was provided by the one and only cecil shaw. i dont know if you've heard of him,he's kind of a big deal. he sang the classics. what's going on, yesterday, and let's get it on. yes. let's get it on. it is at this point i wondered why i didnt not go to more african american events such as this. then it came time for the speeches. and they were all pretty calm.... except for the last one. he starts going off about how we gotta get involved. gotta get involved with the children, the education, the churches, and the meteor. um....the meteor? so i tune out of this little speech. except for the part where he was being all politically correct, until he started going off about the retards. yes....kept shouting from the makeshift pulpit about the retartds. or as everyone else over the age of 13 calls them, mentally challenged...but whatever. the more pressing issue was that of the meteors. i mean he was passionate about these meteors. i started to think... what meteors? why was i not informed of the meteors? should i be doing something to prevent the meteors? it was not until riding in the car that emily pointed out her concern for the meteors.....until she realized that he was talking about the MEDIA. media? are you kidding me? i can excuse 'how ya'll durin' as how ya'll doing.....but just how do you get media from meteor??? i guess i can throw away all those 'save the meteor' posters.
well at the end of the night we decide that it would be a good idea to take a picture with the entertainment...cecil shaw. i mean...who doesnt want their picture with a large black man in an electric blue suit singing lets get it on? and it was a good idea...until he began to accost us. 'so girls do you have a myspace?' uhhhh...... and he wouldnt let it go. he had to go out to his car to get us some "business" "cards"...which turned out to be his homemade cd 'cecil shaw sings the classics' and he continues with his stories about ray charles....'you girls seen the movie Ray?' ...no cecil shaw i cant say that i have.... 'well in that movie he says that cecil shaw is his favorite singer'...yeah, whatever old man. ...well we went and looked it up and had a good laugh at the fact that ray does, in fact, say that cecil shaw is his favorite singer. so basically he's rock star now.
they have yet to ask us back to any other african american chamber of commerce events....i cant imagine why.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
ju is 25 and fabulous exclamation point.
i've been looking for an inspiring story that would adequately translate into a good story for journaling purposes. and i believe that i have found one. (i mean, not all of us can make toe fungus interesting like rachel can.) wait for it...this is a good one.
so the ju turned 25 and of course we had an extravaganza! everything with julie is an extravaganza. it basically equated to dinner and possibly some going out afterwards. well we were only going to the blue goose and the caliber of people we were going with are not necessarily "dress-up-even-when-it's-totally-unnecessary" kind of people. however i just happen to fall into this category. so sue me, i had gotten a new dress recently. and btw, it's awesome. and i wanted to wear it. so this dress....it's BRIGHT pink. and let's just say it aint no "church dress". i probably wont be prancing around granny's house in it. it may or may not be a little low cut... and it's a little too short for the baby jesus on a sunday morning. so i fix my huur-a. do my nails. makeup is lookin fly. (i told you people...it was an extravaganza!!!...plus, with my current job and current uniform, which you should all know how i feel about that...i look for ANY excuse to dress up.) anyways, i was having on of those "on" kind of nights. everything just kind of fell in place and i'm feeling good. so on this particular night, i'm running a little late. (i know, surprise surprise) but i had a good reason. i made julie a killer cake! (it just took a little longer than expected to make) it was awesome. i was also very proud of the cake. i'm thinking this is going to be a good night. so i quickly drive to the restaurant. and i had to park kind of in the boonies because there was no parking and as previously stated...i was running late so any open spot would have done just fine. so i get out of the car and i'm carrying the cake waitress style. believe me...i was hard to miss. girl in hot pink quasi-revealing dress (did i mention the front of this is almost completely covered in pink rhinestones?....the dress is good. it just is.) and i'm also carrying a big hot pink cake. so as i walk to the restaurant in heels that were probably too high for this night i pass some cops who seem very interested in my cake, we make friends, i pass by another restaurant, and i pass by the side of the building where there are restaurant patrons dining outside. they all see the dress, they all see the cake. so i walk into the restaurant and immediately see ju and crew, and i walk towards them and julie jumps up to see the cake and we hug and scream and generally cause a scene. i mean come on, get all your college roommates on! it was a ruckus. but as im hugging julie for probably the 4th time, i feel someone pulling on my dress behind me. like....tugging on it. it's a slinky dress...it doesnt need to be pulled at. but as i turn right around to deck the alleged tugger....i see that it was a male waiter and he's walking away and doesnt say a word. finally he turns around and puts his finger to his lips as to say "shhh".... and then it hits me. my entire life flashes before my eyes....and by entire life, i mean the last five minutes. and i realize what has just occurred. when i was getting into my car, i failed to remember that i had two yellow velcro rollers sitting in my driver seat. and when i got out of the car, they stuck to me. i quickly turned around the entire radius of the restaurant and saw that they all had seen what happened. they had seen me in all my glory with not one, but two yellow rollers stuck to my ass!!! julie and crew had no idea what was going on. they hadnt gotten a good view of the back side yet. so remember how i was telling you that it was such an "on" night, and everything was falling into place, and i was feeling good. yeah...that is pretty much where that line of thinking stopped. this now means that the cops, the people at the other restaurant, the outside dining restaurant patrons, and anyone else in eye shot of the girl in the overly pink rhinestone dress and hot pink cake has seen me, the dress, the cake, and the rollers.
later the waiter returned my rollers to me in a styrofoam to-go cup. very discreet....there really wasnt any need to do so though...everyone saw. everyone knew i was the girl with the rollers. is it bad that my first thought was...."oh this will be a great journal story". so there you go katie hall (p.s. can i tell you how much i loved that you signed your name as such. not just katie. not just katie bentley. katie hall.)
the end.
p.s. does anyone know....is chris brown legal yet? get your cougar on!
so the ju turned 25 and of course we had an extravaganza! everything with julie is an extravaganza. it basically equated to dinner and possibly some going out afterwards. well we were only going to the blue goose and the caliber of people we were going with are not necessarily "dress-up-even-when-it's-totally-unnecessary" kind of people. however i just happen to fall into this category. so sue me, i had gotten a new dress recently. and btw, it's awesome. and i wanted to wear it. so this dress....it's BRIGHT pink. and let's just say it aint no "church dress". i probably wont be prancing around granny's house in it. it may or may not be a little low cut... and it's a little too short for the baby jesus on a sunday morning. so i fix my huur-a. do my nails. makeup is lookin fly. (i told you people...it was an extravaganza!!!...plus, with my current job and current uniform, which you should all know how i feel about that...i look for ANY excuse to dress up.) anyways, i was having on of those "on" kind of nights. everything just kind of fell in place and i'm feeling good. so on this particular night, i'm running a little late. (i know, surprise surprise) but i had a good reason. i made julie a killer cake! (it just took a little longer than expected to make) it was awesome. i was also very proud of the cake. i'm thinking this is going to be a good night. so i quickly drive to the restaurant. and i had to park kind of in the boonies because there was no parking and as previously stated...i was running late so any open spot would have done just fine. so i get out of the car and i'm carrying the cake waitress style. believe me...i was hard to miss. girl in hot pink quasi-revealing dress (did i mention the front of this is almost completely covered in pink rhinestones?....the dress is good. it just is.) and i'm also carrying a big hot pink cake. so as i walk to the restaurant in heels that were probably too high for this night i pass some cops who seem very interested in my cake, we make friends, i pass by another restaurant, and i pass by the side of the building where there are restaurant patrons dining outside. they all see the dress, they all see the cake. so i walk into the restaurant and immediately see ju and crew, and i walk towards them and julie jumps up to see the cake and we hug and scream and generally cause a scene. i mean come on, get all your college roommates on! it was a ruckus. but as im hugging julie for probably the 4th time, i feel someone pulling on my dress behind me. like....tugging on it. it's a slinky dress...it doesnt need to be pulled at. but as i turn right around to deck the alleged tugger....i see that it was a male waiter and he's walking away and doesnt say a word. finally he turns around and puts his finger to his lips as to say "shhh".... and then it hits me. my entire life flashes before my eyes....and by entire life, i mean the last five minutes. and i realize what has just occurred. when i was getting into my car, i failed to remember that i had two yellow velcro rollers sitting in my driver seat. and when i got out of the car, they stuck to me. i quickly turned around the entire radius of the restaurant and saw that they all had seen what happened. they had seen me in all my glory with not one, but two yellow rollers stuck to my ass!!! julie and crew had no idea what was going on. they hadnt gotten a good view of the back side yet. so remember how i was telling you that it was such an "on" night, and everything was falling into place, and i was feeling good. yeah...that is pretty much where that line of thinking stopped. this now means that the cops, the people at the other restaurant, the outside dining restaurant patrons, and anyone else in eye shot of the girl in the overly pink rhinestone dress and hot pink cake has seen me, the dress, the cake, and the rollers.
later the waiter returned my rollers to me in a styrofoam to-go cup. very discreet....there really wasnt any need to do so though...everyone saw. everyone knew i was the girl with the rollers. is it bad that my first thought was...."oh this will be a great journal story". so there you go katie hall (p.s. can i tell you how much i loved that you signed your name as such. not just katie. not just katie bentley. katie hall.)
the end.
p.s. does anyone know....is chris brown legal yet? get your cougar on!
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
i need a hot girl.
alright. i got my acl tickets... so now i will start posting again. (thanks chris) ok, so people ask me all the time "whats the craziest thing thats happened on a flight?.... i bet you have some crazy airplane stories" ....and while i wish this was true.... since 9/11.... people pretty much have cut out the crazy shenanigans.... however... there is just no concealing "weird", "intoxicated", "annoying", and my personal favorite..... "white trash". amanda believes that all the white trash people got together, had a convention, and decided that the dolphin would become their universal mascot... to be badly tattooed on various (and might i add, obvious) body parts, to be sold as dollar store trinkets, and to be collected as if they were becoming extinct. (curiously enough, tridelt must have been at this same convention...they made it their national symbol.) (rachel is going to kill me for this one. love you.) anyways.... and while i might have agreed with her for a long time.... i have found a new tattooed symbol to take its place.
so i'm taking drink orders and i come across this girl. normal looking girl. not overly pretty. but not totally unfortunate looking either. just normal... and i deemed her as normal.... but that was until i saw.... in the prettiest cursive letters tattooed on her normal looking arm..... "hot girl" ...and it was at this point that i lost it. i literally started laughing out loud. i just kept thinking to myself.... who told her it was ok for her to do that? which of her friends was like "yeah, thats a great idea, you should totally do that?" ....her mean friends...thats who. i mean what happens if she is in a debilitating accident that leaves her face so marred that it is hardly recognizable? God forbid....but seriously...she would have this jacked up face and "hot girl" still tattooed on her arm....now that would be some karma for ya.... that is some pure self confidence to walk in somewhere and tell the tattoo artist to write out "hot girl" on her body... in a place where it is prominently displayed. has anyone ever walked up to her and said "no you're not". that would be mean.. but i know people....ahem..person... that would do it. the only time that i think it is ok to get this particular tattoo....is if you are 80. how hilarious would that be....you would be the coolest granny ever! and definitely the hit of the old folks home. i’d do it if i was 80. i’d make Rachel go with me so we could get matching ones.
and can I get a hooty-hoo for football season finally getting started. high school, college, nfl…. hooty-hoo!
so i'm taking drink orders and i come across this girl. normal looking girl. not overly pretty. but not totally unfortunate looking either. just normal... and i deemed her as normal.... but that was until i saw.... in the prettiest cursive letters tattooed on her normal looking arm..... "hot girl" ...and it was at this point that i lost it. i literally started laughing out loud. i just kept thinking to myself.... who told her it was ok for her to do that? which of her friends was like "yeah, thats a great idea, you should totally do that?" ....her mean friends...thats who. i mean what happens if she is in a debilitating accident that leaves her face so marred that it is hardly recognizable? God forbid....but seriously...she would have this jacked up face and "hot girl" still tattooed on her arm....now that would be some karma for ya.... that is some pure self confidence to walk in somewhere and tell the tattoo artist to write out "hot girl" on her body... in a place where it is prominently displayed. has anyone ever walked up to her and said "no you're not". that would be mean.. but i know people....ahem..person... that would do it. the only time that i think it is ok to get this particular tattoo....is if you are 80. how hilarious would that be....you would be the coolest granny ever! and definitely the hit of the old folks home. i’d do it if i was 80. i’d make Rachel go with me so we could get matching ones.
and can I get a hooty-hoo for football season finally getting started. high school, college, nfl…. hooty-hoo!
Sunday, June 24, 2007
i promise.....
i promise that if someone. anyone. will find me a decently priced Austin City Limits three day pass...... i will start updating regularly again. please!!!
Monday, April 16, 2007
mikalickahilickahidyho.
yeah..... so my journal posting skills, as of late, have been less than stellar, i know. i'm gettin lazy. well i was going to post a video... but it wont let me. so just go to this link. the more times you watch it the funnier it gets. (they should really work on making 'funnier' an acceptable word...it already is to me)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fk-1mla0LeU
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fk-1mla0LeU
Sunday, March 11, 2007
dreams.
*so when i was younger (and i might have told you this before) it was my childhood ambition to work at mcdonalds. see... the way i figured it... mcdonalds was just about the biggest company i could fathom at the age of 7. i mean... i always had fun when i was there. they were always changing the sign so it said 'over 88 billions burgers sold'. i figured those people were banking! while everyone else i knew was playing school.... i was playing drive thru. i was excellent at it. "welcome to mcdonalds, can i take your order?"
*and i just remembered this one the other day.... when i was younger, i loved the bozo the clown show. you know the one. (and if you dont, then you were seriously deprived as a child) well there was this one segment and bozo would shout out "it's time for the grand! prize! game!" basically, they set up 6 buckets in a line and you would have to stand behind a line and try to make a ping pong ball in to the buckets starting with the closest bucket number one. (i always got mad when a kid couldnt even make it into bucket number one. pathetic. bad form.) you got a prize everytime you made one of the buckets. in the first couple of buckets they were lame prizes, however when you got to about the 2nd or 3rd bucket, they would bring out a lifetime supply of archway cookies. now, i had never had an archway cookie, but i thought it would be cool to tell all my friends, 'yeah, come over to the house, i'll get my mom to break out the archways". well, in the last bucket bozo always put a "crisp 100 dollar bill" and everyone would go "OoOoOoOoooooo" and he would taunt you with the grand prize....a brand. new. schwinn. bicycle. (it really is amazing what my brain retains) well... i figured i had just about as good a shot as anyone else to be on the show, and i figured that i would ultimately be picked to participate in the grand. prize. game. so i began practicing. whenever i got grounded (which happened to be a lot) i would practice. mom just thought she was punishing me, when actually she was just contributing to my hours and hours of countless ping pong ball tossing skills. i would set up six buckets in my room (and by buckets i mean boxes, tubs, caboodles, anything that a ping pong ball could be shot into.) and i then i would practice. i practices my excited jumping up and down as i made each bucket, i practiced my surprised look when they brought out the lifetime supply of archway cookies (why do i tell you these things?) and i practiced my concentrated look when i was going for bucket number 6. i knew i was going to get my chance. i knew i was going to be on that show. i would be ahead of the game by practicing. ....... i never got to be on the bozo show. but if i had i would like to believe that i would have at least made enough buckets that i could have gotten the lifetime supply of archway cookies. (you know that some where there are a bunch of people with lifetimes supplies of archway cookies. i bet they dont even eat them anymore. ....how ungrateful.)
and you say i have no ambition!?!
*and i just remembered this one the other day.... when i was younger, i loved the bozo the clown show. you know the one. (and if you dont, then you were seriously deprived as a child) well there was this one segment and bozo would shout out "it's time for the grand! prize! game!" basically, they set up 6 buckets in a line and you would have to stand behind a line and try to make a ping pong ball in to the buckets starting with the closest bucket number one. (i always got mad when a kid couldnt even make it into bucket number one. pathetic. bad form.) you got a prize everytime you made one of the buckets. in the first couple of buckets they were lame prizes, however when you got to about the 2nd or 3rd bucket, they would bring out a lifetime supply of archway cookies. now, i had never had an archway cookie, but i thought it would be cool to tell all my friends, 'yeah, come over to the house, i'll get my mom to break out the archways". well, in the last bucket bozo always put a "crisp 100 dollar bill" and everyone would go "OoOoOoOoooooo" and he would taunt you with the grand prize....a brand. new. schwinn. bicycle. (it really is amazing what my brain retains) well... i figured i had just about as good a shot as anyone else to be on the show, and i figured that i would ultimately be picked to participate in the grand. prize. game. so i began practicing. whenever i got grounded (which happened to be a lot) i would practice. mom just thought she was punishing me, when actually she was just contributing to my hours and hours of countless ping pong ball tossing skills. i would set up six buckets in my room (and by buckets i mean boxes, tubs, caboodles, anything that a ping pong ball could be shot into.) and i then i would practice. i practices my excited jumping up and down as i made each bucket, i practiced my surprised look when they brought out the lifetime supply of archway cookies (why do i tell you these things?) and i practiced my concentrated look when i was going for bucket number 6. i knew i was going to get my chance. i knew i was going to be on that show. i would be ahead of the game by practicing. ....... i never got to be on the bozo show. but if i had i would like to believe that i would have at least made enough buckets that i could have gotten the lifetime supply of archway cookies. (you know that some where there are a bunch of people with lifetimes supplies of archway cookies. i bet they dont even eat them anymore. ....how ungrateful.)
and you say i have no ambition!?!
Saturday, March 10, 2007
posting because i'm bored. nothing to see here....
*so recently, there have come about these little, we'll call them "scandals" dealing with girls recently placed in the spotlight (i.e. antonella barba with american idol and miss nebraska) and their personal, and rather scandalous pictures of them surfacing on the internet and in turn, entertainment tonight and the world news. this has lead me, after much consternation to ask all of you to delete those pictures of me in which might just be a little too revealing. you know the ones.... spring break '03, prom, and grandma's 80th birthday party. (for the sake of me and grandma)
*so last night, after going and getting my hair did. (love it) p.s.. impromptu plug for salon elevation in dallas. it's incredible. everyone is covered in tattoos and piercings, they offer you a beer when you walk in the door, and i've never been in a place where they all know so much about hair. it's really bizarre. ask for stephen. anyways.... i got a flat tire and changed it on the side of the dark road. it was one of those badass moments where you feel like you can then and only then take over the entire world. and i sliced my finger open. i hope it scars.
Monday, March 05, 2007
not even lying.
| morgan -- [noun]: A master of storytelling 'How" will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com |
Saturday, February 24, 2007
morgan is not cool.
so i'm at the mall the other day. you know, shopping. i venture into urban outfitters. urban outfitters. the epitome of cool. right? so after mindlessly walking around the store for about 10 minutes, i begin to sense how not-so-acutely awkward i feel. i just keep walking around looking for something that i would wear in public, instead of thinking, 'yeah my grandma has that in baby blue.' i walk over to a stand of shirts, and pick one up, and then proceed to turn it around, and around, trying to figure out which way is up and which side is the front. until i just kind of inconspicuously look around and place it back on the table as if i never touched it. it's like the people in there knew that i wasnt really supposed to be there. (i swear the seasame street game "one of these things is not like the other, one of these things just doesnt belong" song was running over the speaker system) i dont wear flats. i dont own a huge brightly colored belt. i dont get the whole "layering" thing. i'll never wear tights. i dont enjoy dressing like the bag lady. and my head is too big for most hats. but... secretly.... what i really want to do.... is cut my hair a little shorter and a little more spiky, dye it platinum blonde, with some really cool colored highlights, pierce my eyebrow, and tell everyone, 'yeah, i got it at urban'.
i'm so not cool.
i'm so not cool.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
my funny valentine.
well. since, i would say, valentines sucks for the majority of people. (i blame expectation. this alleged "holiday" is up there with new years, as far as expectations of a day go. but i digress....) since some people hate this day... i decided to lay down my pride in exchange for a funny story. it's an at-least-THIS-didnt-happen-to-you story. it's up there with my top two embarrassing moments of all time. (the other story involves an empty house, a grandmother, and a parrot) you might want to grab some chocolate. this turned out to be a rather lengthy story.
anyways... so let's take it back to high school. senior year. i used to hate valentines day. (i will probably still claim at some point in time that i hate it, but i really dont.) in fact, i used to hate it so much that i wore all black to lament the day. (well that, and i'll use any excuse to dress in all black.) so. we're in class. on valentines day. i'm in all black and talking about how much i didnt like the day and what a hoax it was. yada. yada. yada. so the bell rings and we all leave and i walk out and see that there is this guy... and i'm not sure, but i think he was waiting on me. (which then has me freaked out.) so he starts in on the small talk. (p.s. guys... we know when you are beating around the bush, about to ask us out) and this is what that was. and then it happened. he said "so i made reservations at marios tonight, you want to go" and my internal dialogue is going... "did you not hear me ranting and raving about how much i hate valentines day? i'm wearing all black...was that not another good indication? THIS is the girl you want to take out on valentines day?" and usually... i can dodge the "hey, ya wanna go out with me" question. in fact, i would call myself a pro, but there was no dodging this one...it came out of no where. so of course, i said "sure".
so i go home that afternoon. and try, at all costs, to downplay this, what i was hoping was a, non-date to my mom. and of course she gets the look. the eyes light up a little bit. her eyebrows raise. and she asks 'oh, so who is that?' (in that 'oh thank God my baby isnt a freak, SOMEONE likes her' tone. or was it 'oh thank God my baby isnt a lesbian?' which ever. i bet its the same look.) its the same look and question any 24 year old single girl still gets from her mother/grandmother/aunt/cousin/or anyone else associated with the single police whenever we mention someone who might sound like a boy. if you listen hard enough, you can hear them humming the wedding march. it's the look of deserate (and usually unfounded) hope. (yes mom, you still do it. you all do it.)
and in case you were wondering. i didnt wear all black on the date. (stick with me here, i promise there is a good part to this story) so we go on this "thing". and it's awkward. he's nice and funny as can be, so let me rephrase, i'm awkward. so we go to order. i order the cheapest thing on the menu. spaghetti. (becuase thats what we usually do boys. if we are out, the reason i order a salad isnt because i'm a rabbit, it's because it's the cheapest thing on the menu.) but of course, that whole line of reasoning has changed since this fateful night.... so. the date was not a complete bust. it was pleasant. ..... and then the food came. my mom always says that she can never take us out in public to eat. (me and cam dont have the best table manners at home) but we do know how to act in public. so i'm trying my best to eat this bowl of noodles the most proper way i can. (no matter how hungry you are, 1000 of something is too many) i've got the spoon AND fork out, and i'm using my spoon to twirl it around my fork. even miss manners would have been proud. (all the while i'm trying to be charming and trying to keep up with the conversation) this went along great.....until..... i was talking and telling some elaborate story (imagine that) and i keep twirling and twirling the noodles and then i realize that i might have too much on my fork.... but meh.. i said forget and went for it. things were going smoothly. and this is where it happens.... so i go to stick the whole fork full in my mouth, but i realize mid bite, that the forkfull was WAY too big to fit in my mouth. but it's ok, i'll just bite it in the middle, leaving some still on my fork. possibly not the most proper way to deal with the situation... but it was the best i could do at the time. so, here we go. i kept thinking.... bite in half, bring fork directly back down to the plate like nothing happened. this is how i envisioned it. this is not how it happened. This is how it happened..... i bite the fork full in half and as i go to put the rest back on my plate, the "rest" swings back at me and slaps me in the face. FWAP! (thats the tricky thing about noodles..... they're ATTATCHED) i freak! i quickly pulled my napkin up to my face, praying all the while that he just didnt see it. he did. he begins to laugh. (it wasnt even worth trying to cover that up). and although i did not find it as openly funny as he did, i can see the humor in it. so now i'm throughly embarassed. i'm sure the splotches are aplenty. but i'm not done yet..... i remove the napkin, and the boy starts laughing even more. and i'm going, ok jerk i know it was funny and all but now you've taken it too far. but through his chortles, he can barely get out "you still have some in your nose". napkin goes back up to my face to retrieve the left behind noodle. thus ensuring this story in morgan's embarassing moments hall of fame. all i wanted to do after that was go home. hoping to never see him again, but knowing i would see him in class the very next day. we spend most of the car ride home with me threating him if he ever told anyone this story. but the amazing part came when he wanted to hang out again. let's recap... i told you i hate valentines day. you ask me out anyways. you see me string spaghetti all over my face and you STILL want to see me again???? what?? i've been out before where the date went great! no spaghetti in nose, no embarassment.... and i never hear from him again. and yet, he wants to take me out again? dont you know you cant take me out in public?? oh Lord, my mother was right. i am a freak. AND i cant be taken out in public.
tonight. i promise. i'm not ordering the spaghetti.
anyways... so let's take it back to high school. senior year. i used to hate valentines day. (i will probably still claim at some point in time that i hate it, but i really dont.) in fact, i used to hate it so much that i wore all black to lament the day. (well that, and i'll use any excuse to dress in all black.) so. we're in class. on valentines day. i'm in all black and talking about how much i didnt like the day and what a hoax it was. yada. yada. yada. so the bell rings and we all leave and i walk out and see that there is this guy... and i'm not sure, but i think he was waiting on me. (which then has me freaked out.) so he starts in on the small talk. (p.s. guys... we know when you are beating around the bush, about to ask us out) and this is what that was. and then it happened. he said "so i made reservations at marios tonight, you want to go" and my internal dialogue is going... "did you not hear me ranting and raving about how much i hate valentines day? i'm wearing all black...was that not another good indication? THIS is the girl you want to take out on valentines day?" and usually... i can dodge the "hey, ya wanna go out with me" question. in fact, i would call myself a pro, but there was no dodging this one...it came out of no where. so of course, i said "sure".
so i go home that afternoon. and try, at all costs, to downplay this, what i was hoping was a, non-date to my mom. and of course she gets the look. the eyes light up a little bit. her eyebrows raise. and she asks 'oh, so who is that?' (in that 'oh thank God my baby isnt a freak, SOMEONE likes her' tone. or was it 'oh thank God my baby isnt a lesbian?' which ever. i bet its the same look.) its the same look and question any 24 year old single girl still gets from her mother/grandmother/aunt/cousin/or anyone else associated with the single police whenever we mention someone who might sound like a boy. if you listen hard enough, you can hear them humming the wedding march. it's the look of deserate (and usually unfounded) hope. (yes mom, you still do it. you all do it.)
and in case you were wondering. i didnt wear all black on the date. (stick with me here, i promise there is a good part to this story) so we go on this "thing". and it's awkward. he's nice and funny as can be, so let me rephrase, i'm awkward. so we go to order. i order the cheapest thing on the menu. spaghetti. (becuase thats what we usually do boys. if we are out, the reason i order a salad isnt because i'm a rabbit, it's because it's the cheapest thing on the menu.) but of course, that whole line of reasoning has changed since this fateful night.... so. the date was not a complete bust. it was pleasant. ..... and then the food came. my mom always says that she can never take us out in public to eat. (me and cam dont have the best table manners at home) but we do know how to act in public. so i'm trying my best to eat this bowl of noodles the most proper way i can. (no matter how hungry you are, 1000 of something is too many) i've got the spoon AND fork out, and i'm using my spoon to twirl it around my fork. even miss manners would have been proud. (all the while i'm trying to be charming and trying to keep up with the conversation) this went along great.....until..... i was talking and telling some elaborate story (imagine that) and i keep twirling and twirling the noodles and then i realize that i might have too much on my fork.... but meh.. i said forget and went for it. things were going smoothly. and this is where it happens.... so i go to stick the whole fork full in my mouth, but i realize mid bite, that the forkfull was WAY too big to fit in my mouth. but it's ok, i'll just bite it in the middle, leaving some still on my fork. possibly not the most proper way to deal with the situation... but it was the best i could do at the time. so, here we go. i kept thinking.... bite in half, bring fork directly back down to the plate like nothing happened. this is how i envisioned it. this is not how it happened. This is how it happened..... i bite the fork full in half and as i go to put the rest back on my plate, the "rest" swings back at me and slaps me in the face. FWAP! (thats the tricky thing about noodles..... they're ATTATCHED) i freak! i quickly pulled my napkin up to my face, praying all the while that he just didnt see it. he did. he begins to laugh. (it wasnt even worth trying to cover that up). and although i did not find it as openly funny as he did, i can see the humor in it. so now i'm throughly embarassed. i'm sure the splotches are aplenty. but i'm not done yet..... i remove the napkin, and the boy starts laughing even more. and i'm going, ok jerk i know it was funny and all but now you've taken it too far. but through his chortles, he can barely get out "you still have some in your nose". napkin goes back up to my face to retrieve the left behind noodle. thus ensuring this story in morgan's embarassing moments hall of fame. all i wanted to do after that was go home. hoping to never see him again, but knowing i would see him in class the very next day. we spend most of the car ride home with me threating him if he ever told anyone this story. but the amazing part came when he wanted to hang out again. let's recap... i told you i hate valentines day. you ask me out anyways. you see me string spaghetti all over my face and you STILL want to see me again???? what?? i've been out before where the date went great! no spaghetti in nose, no embarassment.... and i never hear from him again. and yet, he wants to take me out again? dont you know you cant take me out in public?? oh Lord, my mother was right. i am a freak. AND i cant be taken out in public.
tonight. i promise. i'm not ordering the spaghetti.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
collaboration of recent thought
since nothing exciting. nor journal worthy has happened lately.... i've run out of material. i need some weird passenger to get on and do something outrageous so i have something to write about. cause Lord knows i've got enough time on my hands lately to do so. so here's just some random musings to cure my bordem for the time being....
*would someone like to tell me how 2pac is still coming out with songs? i'm still not entirely inclined to believe that he is actually deceased. (based on that and the fact that mom is SURE that she spotted 2pac in the tyler mall about a year ago) i mean.... if i was to be pronounced dead, yet there were still new journal entries popping up.... dont you think that would be a good indication that i had fooled all of you? i submit that it would.
*i truly believe that the song "when you come back down" was written about a man in love with a flight attendant... and chris thile, i believe that man is you.
*it's amazing how much more accepted one can feel in baltimore whilst wearing apple bottom jeans.
*it is a well known fact that i think i'm going deaf. (but sometimes, really, it's just more convenient than anything else) but what came first? am i going deaf because i listen to my music too loud, or do i listen to my music too loud because i'm deaf?
chew on that for a little while.
*would someone like to tell me how 2pac is still coming out with songs? i'm still not entirely inclined to believe that he is actually deceased. (based on that and the fact that mom is SURE that she spotted 2pac in the tyler mall about a year ago) i mean.... if i was to be pronounced dead, yet there were still new journal entries popping up.... dont you think that would be a good indication that i had fooled all of you? i submit that it would.
*i truly believe that the song "when you come back down" was written about a man in love with a flight attendant... and chris thile, i believe that man is you.
*it's amazing how much more accepted one can feel in baltimore whilst wearing apple bottom jeans.
*it is a well known fact that i think i'm going deaf. (but sometimes, really, it's just more convenient than anything else) but what came first? am i going deaf because i listen to my music too loud, or do i listen to my music too loud because i'm deaf?
chew on that for a little while.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
good morning america.
the time is 3:27 AM central standard time. and i just got to work. while the rest of you are fast asleep, with no doubt visions of sugar plumbs fairies dancing in your heads, i'm at work. it's just kind of one of those things you want to share with someone, but since any normal person is fast asleep, i cannot. i thought about just staying up, i figured that i had enough people that i knew that would randomly be awake to keep me up, but i did not figure that i had enough people that would fly to baltimore to make sure i was awake for the rest of the day in order to serve the almighty peanut. this is just further evidence that my life is so strange.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
my first thanksgiving away.
i should be in tyler.
i should be at mimi's.
i should be watching the parade.
i should be answering questions about my new job.
i should be having to dodge the "are you seeing anyone" question at all costs.
i should be annoyed at cameron's wardrobe.
i should be eating turkey.
i should be listening to skipper, stafford, and dad say "you know, no matter how detroit has played all season, they always seem to play well on thanksgiving"
i should be pointing out liz on tv.
i should be devising a plan with garrett and cameron to escape.
i should be stuffed.
i should be eating my body weight in green jello salad.
i should have so many servings of jello salad that mom begins to give me "the eye" and says that it is rude to take half the salad in my first serving and that some people havent had firsts, but slowly realizing that i do it every year and finally giving up.
i should be bored.
i should constantly be looking for my glass, and then realizing mimi has washed it.....again.
i should be fighting over who gets the last bit of mashed potatoes.
i should be trying to find mom and judy's secret stash of pitzelles.
i should be going through the ads with tabi.
i should be playing with bri.
i should be winning taboo.
i should be in the back room, discussing things that only cousins discuss.
i should be talking about how we wish zach, cheryl, jeremy, jeremy, and jeff were all there.
i should hear waves of snores coming from multiple people throughout the day.
i should be scolding mimi for cleaning the kitchen ALL DAY long.
i should be at Jakes.
i should be complaining about being at jakes.
i should be telling karen how much i hate that place.
i should be seeing everyone from high school that i never really liked in the first place.
i should be eating turkey sandwiches for the next 5 days.
i should not be in baltimore.
i should be at mimi's.
i should be watching the parade.
i should be answering questions about my new job.
i should be having to dodge the "are you seeing anyone" question at all costs.
i should be annoyed at cameron's wardrobe.
i should be eating turkey.
i should be listening to skipper, stafford, and dad say "you know, no matter how detroit has played all season, they always seem to play well on thanksgiving"
i should be pointing out liz on tv.
i should be devising a plan with garrett and cameron to escape.
i should be stuffed.
i should be eating my body weight in green jello salad.
i should have so many servings of jello salad that mom begins to give me "the eye" and says that it is rude to take half the salad in my first serving and that some people havent had firsts, but slowly realizing that i do it every year and finally giving up.
i should be bored.
i should constantly be looking for my glass, and then realizing mimi has washed it.....again.
i should be fighting over who gets the last bit of mashed potatoes.
i should be trying to find mom and judy's secret stash of pitzelles.
i should be going through the ads with tabi.
i should be playing with bri.
i should be winning taboo.
i should be in the back room, discussing things that only cousins discuss.
i should be talking about how we wish zach, cheryl, jeremy, jeremy, and jeff were all there.
i should hear waves of snores coming from multiple people throughout the day.
i should be scolding mimi for cleaning the kitchen ALL DAY long.
i should be at Jakes.
i should be complaining about being at jakes.
i should be telling karen how much i hate that place.
i should be seeing everyone from high school that i never really liked in the first place.
i should be eating turkey sandwiches for the next 5 days.
i should not be in baltimore.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
coming january 2007.
dear baltimore,
you can all go to hell. i'm going to TEXAS!
love,
morgan and davy crockett
that is RIGHT my friends. i'm coming back to texas! which is the true promised land. i could NOT be more excited. yes, i'm still working for southwest...just in texas. it's a wonderful and sweet story. but i'll be living in dallas..... where, apparently, "everyone lives....and they have fun ALL the time." i'm pretty sure that's true. so i'm coming back....back to the land of dairy queen. and 70mph speed limits. and axis roads. and bbq. and baylor. and high school football. and rachel. and humidity. and construction. and emmitt smith. and ya'll. and where everyone knows your name. and i'm never leaving again.....unless he's really cute.
you can all go to hell. i'm going to TEXAS!
love,
morgan and davy crockett
that is RIGHT my friends. i'm coming back to texas! which is the true promised land. i could NOT be more excited. yes, i'm still working for southwest...just in texas. it's a wonderful and sweet story. but i'll be living in dallas..... where, apparently, "everyone lives....and they have fun ALL the time." i'm pretty sure that's true. so i'm coming back....back to the land of dairy queen. and 70mph speed limits. and axis roads. and bbq. and baylor. and high school football. and rachel. and humidity. and construction. and emmitt smith. and ya'll. and where everyone knows your name. and i'm never leaving again.....unless he's really cute.
Monday, November 06, 2006
where are they now...
i have done a bad thing. to my own surprise. and my own detriment.... i have succumb to the cult that is myspace. and i am ashamed. however, it is a good catalyst to catch up with people that you havent seen in forever. (and a good excuse) i've found so many people that i havent seen in years and years. some have really made something of themselves... and yet some of them have proven themselves to be...well....less than stellar. but it makes me wonder..... who else is out there? there are several people that i still wonder about. wondering where they are. so here is my most wanted list... sort of like those blue "have you seen me" flyers that no one really looks at and immediately throws away...
jonathan buckman.... my first crush. he was a heartbreaker in first grade. and i'm sure he's just like the rest of them today.
amanda hopson.... whereever she is, she still inspires me to learn sign language.
bobby wimpy.... with a name like this, you really have to wonder how a kid will turn out. i'm just hoping he has since memorized how to spell his own name. my last memory of him is him signing my yearbook in 2nd grade and he had to look at his name tag to spell his name. i'd like to give you the benefit of the doubt bobby.
candace blaylock..... she's probably doing time for murder.
erin cook.... me, her, and holly watson were besties back in the day. we had the same birthday. she always had the best birthday parties.
holly glover... we were friends through summer camp. if i never find her... i will just assume she was just an angel. no one has ever inspired me more to be a better person.
lindsay cooper... this one only dates back to college. but i miss her.
jonathan buckman.... my first crush. he was a heartbreaker in first grade. and i'm sure he's just like the rest of them today.
amanda hopson.... whereever she is, she still inspires me to learn sign language.
bobby wimpy.... with a name like this, you really have to wonder how a kid will turn out. i'm just hoping he has since memorized how to spell his own name. my last memory of him is him signing my yearbook in 2nd grade and he had to look at his name tag to spell his name. i'd like to give you the benefit of the doubt bobby.
candace blaylock..... she's probably doing time for murder.
erin cook.... me, her, and holly watson were besties back in the day. we had the same birthday. she always had the best birthday parties.
holly glover... we were friends through summer camp. if i never find her... i will just assume she was just an angel. no one has ever inspired me more to be a better person.
lindsay cooper... this one only dates back to college. but i miss her.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)