Turbulance, Jesus, and Legs, Oh My!

As I have no lions, tigers, and bears to oh my here in sunny Southern California.

Being on vacation means I have been remiss in my updating you on the exciting (or not so much) happenings in my life.

Let's start with my lovely flight on Tuesday night.  I'm comfortably seated when an older lady asks if I'll move one seat up as she's afraid to fly and wants her sister sitting next to her.  Well, I decided that I can actually be a nice human being (shocking I know) and I moved.  We took off without a glitch.  I could pause here a moment and wax poetic about the beauty of taking off over snow-covered lands... but I caught a glimpse before passing out cold, so waxing poetic would last all of three seconds.

You're thinking, "um, Mo... this really has no humor or point."  Hold your horses!  Easy flight for most of the way, until about two hours out.  I almost never get up to go to the bathroom on planes.  The opportunity presented itself, so I ambled back, get inside, when we hit a small patch of turbulance and I get tossed around like a pinball in that tiny bathroom.  That was thrilling I tell you.  I suppose I should look at the bright side that I hadn't sat down yet...

And then about 100 miles out, we hit the real turbulance.  The kind where your butt leaves the seat and people around you gasp.  And behind me I hear, in a little older lady shrill voice, "oh my God, oh my God, oh my God"... over and over and over again.  I almost cried trying so hard NOT to laugh (yes, I headed back to b-bomb-ville.)

Speaking of God, mom and I went to church Christmas Eve night.  It was a very nice little church and it was the family service, so a bunch of rather cute little kids running around in their best little outfits.  The pastor gets up to do his thing (i.e. the sermon) and goes into how Jesus was one of us.  He does this by saying, "He was born a baby... a baby who cried, a baby who pooped his diapers..."  I admit to blanking out on the rest of this because who really thinks of Jesus taking a load off at any age???  I mean, this isn't sacriligous?

And to end out this rather long storytime, a story from Christmas Day.  It was toward the end of the night when a friend messages me, telling me his mom has seen the picture of me on the log (the one on this very page.)  Apparently she said something to the effect of, "She should really learn to keep her legs shut!!!"  Aaaahhh, to be so well-known, when here I was thinking I'd been so classy in front of her.  Either that or she's being told LIES. 

And on that note ladies and gents, I am over and out.

P.S. I hope you all had joyous holiday full of love.  And if you didn't, hopefully I hit you up and regaled you with a story or two.

Delinquent with a Hole Punch

Ok, so I am the delinquent.  I haven't been on nor updated this lil sucker in a few days.  But please do forgive me, it's been one of those weeks of trying to get things done, working, and sleeping.  Have no fear!  I have piling up the stories with which to regale you.

Except I shall keep this one rather simple as I do have a paper to finish and a really rather fabulous incentive to do so.

No, I am not the one with a hole punch.  I have a friend with a hole punch.  I'll simply regurgitate the texted conversation, as it really does speak for itself.

Friend: Help!  I hole punched my hair!!!

Me: Um... why did you do that?

Friend:  Because I wanted to see if it would work!

Me: And clearly it did.

How can I not love my friends???

Driving Off a Cliff

Or so Annie thought I would...

We decide last night we would go grab a bite to eat at CPK (California Pizza Kitchen for those of you who don't know - apparently many east coasters don't???)  We're heading off the 395, a route I've driven to the mall it is in before, when... where's the turn-off???  You can go right to God knows where in Virginia or left... or so we thought...

I start driving for it, pitch-black, and Annie squeals... I did not drive off a cliff nor did I hit a curb.  We finally found the exit, which was as un-lit as it could get.

Annie starts laughing uproariously, to the point of crying, thinking I was heading for accident-ville, while I sat there trying to play it cool, although having to bust out laughing with her, because I had been thinking the same thing.

Yes people, I can too drive!

What is the Use of a Zipper?

Two nights ago, Annie and I decide to go to dinner.  We stroll along, a rather long way, only to stop in Gap.  I decide to try on a pair of jeans.  Off I go to those lovely dressing rooms that make you feel like you wear a size 2 and are a beanpole (or not.) 

I go to unbutton my jeans and un-zipper and what do you know?  The zipper's been down the entire jaunt around Washington DC.  That's right, more people than I wish to think about possibly saw my lovely Christmasy undies.

To make matters worse, apparently I forget to zip them back up when I put them back on because I go to go to the bathroom before heading home and what do you know?  I didn't have to make the extra effort to pull down the zipper.

I figure at this point, I should just start wearing some seriously exciting undies, because clearly my head's so far up my butt that I'm never going to remember to zip the ol' jeans up.

Who needs a zipper anyway???

The Biggest Loser and Sex

Who wouldn't want to read this blog with a title like that???

First up... The Biggest Loser.
I could go on and on about the motivation and the inspiration and the hope and the blah blah blah.

I'm most definitely not.

Why?  Because I giggled halfway through it.

There was one particular girl who was once kinda cute and now just looks like trailer park trash - I don't care how much weight she lost.  A cute dark bob turned into an orange bleached blonde badly cute pixie, and a dress that showed her weight loss up top, but showed her thighs as these thick jiggling stumps. 

Even funnier???  I was NOT the only one who was thinking these things.  I broach the topic with my girl Christine, who tells me that she was thinking the same things!  Then we proceeded to gossip like mean prep school high schoolers, it was fabulous.

And the sex...
Only a few moments ago, another friend and I were discussing the benefits of waiting to have intimate relations until having a relationship. 

Her: I had intended to wait until I was in a monotonous relationship before having sex again.

Me:  A monogamous one my dear.  If you had a monotonous one, I'd cry for you.

The Dreaded Comps

What are comps you ask?  Very good question.  Comprehensive exams.  Essentially exit exams for grad school.  Our program requires you do both comps and a thesis to graduate.

I, being the general nut that I am, decided to take my comps a semester early as I have finished all of my requirements and wanted to do them while the information was still fresh.  So, I declared myself.

To then find out... I'm the only one taking them this semester.  Uuuhhh, what???

Whatever.  Being the totally kick-a** rockstar that I am, I did absolutely no prep for them, other than to yank out a bunch of old notes and readings from last year and plop them in the middle of the floor an hour before they started.  What is they?  That's right, three essays in one weekend.  One on theory, one on methods, and one on my concentration (sociology for those of you who don't actually know this.)

Comps are supposed to be done by 9:15 tomorrow morning.  Are they done and posted?  YES.  Almost a full 12 hours early at the time of posting them to the necessary web site.

Yee-haw!

Because I don't trust technology, I e-mail my advisor to make her aware that they are in fact on the site.  Uuummm, apparently she can't access them.  Welcome to my life.  I pound away all weekend and...

We'll see what happens!

Longjohns... as pants???

First of all, do you separate long johns, or is it one word?  I mean, there could be a Long John, but the actual thingys that keep you warm under your pants... one or two words?  Now that I've confused the hell out of all of us...

Now I have a particularly attractive (read, ugly as sin) white pair.  After finally hunting them down (much to my dismay of actually having to hunt them down), I put them on like the old, long-lost friend you really never wanted to meet again.

Let me back up a moment, my still semi-wet jeans are by the door as I'd already been out in the snow once today.  So prior to heading out for the evening for the final Cal game (don't start with me), I would put them on.

Word of advice... if you have the memory of a gnat, such as yours truly, you might want to write a little note on a post-it, to stick to your forehead, that says, "Put your pants on!!!"

Because, I most definitely did... NOT.  Opened the door, started walking out, after tripping over the pants, in my sexy as all get out whiter than me longjohns.  Yes, my running shoes are already on.  My sweatshirt and vest are already on.  And my longjohns are, clearly, already on.  The jeans are... still on the floor. 

Yes, yes, the jokes may start now... "This isn't the first time you've lost your pants Morgan" or "Morgan, you get enough attention with the top half, you don't need to be starting with the bottom half too" or "Ok blondie, instead of going to grad school, how bout dropping out and working a pole instead?"

Ladies and gentlemen, a word of advice.  Always leave the house with your pants ON.

WELCOME!

To my insane world.

First of all, I realize "funniness" is not a word. I am an English major. I get this. But, my life is funny and the funniness must be shared, so it is now a word in the World of Morgan.

Why am I randomly pulling this blog out of the wazoo to share hilarity with you? Well, I do have another blog that's for updates on my life and things that make me passionate and upset all in one. This is for none of that. Well, you'll get updates on my life without meaning to... but not quite in the same way.

I made a list of goals a few days ago. One of them was to write down everyday something good or happy or funny that happened to me that day before I went to bed. It is a way to remember that I have a wonderful, rich life and no matter how bad things may seem, there is always a bright spot to look at and retain hope for the coming days... whatever they may bring.

But why keep it private??? This is me we're talking about here! I have no shame! If you know me, then you know my embarrassment level is remarkably low. And that I have no problem saying it like it is and I am sarcastic to boot, which doesn't always garner me favors I realize.

So welcome. To the wonderful, wacky, blown out the wazoo World of Mo.