Yeah, I Said It

Since lately all my thoughts are experienced in short, ADD-bursts, this is how I will relay them to you:

Marriage
Moments when it’s not exactly helpful to tell your wife you love her? When she’s on her hands and knees cleaning your piss and turd splatters off the toilet bowl. On her day off.

You Know You are Old When…
Well, it finally happened – I am, in fact, too old and too educated to watch MTV. *disclaimer: doesn’t apply to Jersey Shore*

And in case you’re wondering (you’re not – that’s cool – my feelings aren’t hurt) – they DO still play music on MTV. They just run at 2am when all the actual age-appropriate teens are taking a break from hating their parents, dressing inappropriately, and popping their pimples by sleeping, or stumbling in from a pre-weekend bar crawl/Burrito King binge in College Town, USA, while vaguely wondering if they have a quiz in History 101 in the morning. Which begs the question – what exactly am I doing up at this hour?

Things I Could Literally Not Care Less About
1. Charlie Sheen. Seriously, if the guy wants to hole up in his mansion, screw hookers and smoke crack until his lungs collapse, then who are we to judge? I say let him have at it, and then maybe – fingers crossed – "Two and a Half Men" will finally just go away.

2.Moral musing by Justin Bieber.

3.That show – “Who Do You Think You Are?” – that takes celebrities and traces their ancestry, and they get all “wow!” and weepy and whatnot. Listen, I’m gonna be really frank here – who actually gives a fuck about self-centered, narcissistic, world-revolves-around-me individuals walking down the path of self-discovery but who in reality are so far removed and out-of-touch from their real selves? And I don’t think they could have picked bigger a-holes to profile. It’s like the producers stepped back, took a look at Hollywood proper, and said, “Hmm, who are the least tolerable and most self-absorbed people in this town? Let’s cast ‘em in a show that is ALL ABOUT THEMSELVES!” Bitches, please. You know what would be much more enjoyable? Anything. No, I really mean anything. Like, I would rather have my pedicure lady slice up my toes to pull out ingrown nails and mercilessly bring me to painful tears as she scrubs the bottoms of my feet off with a sandpaper rock than sit through this. There are far bigger problems in the world than Sarah Jessica Parker finding out she’s related to Salem witches.

4. What Lindsey Lohan’s going to do next. So could major news sources stop broadcasting stories about her court issues, lip injections, and drug rehab? Again, definately more important things going on in the world...

5. People using the image of Hitler for political protest purposes. And this goes for both political sides – i.e., those protesting things like Obamacare, and those more recently protesting Gov. Walker’s union bill in Madison. I mean, really people – Hitler is responsible for the deaths of literally millions of people. DEATH. MILLIONS. Call me overly-sensitive, but trying to pass a bill that takes issue with collective bargaining hardly seems like a fair comparison to a man who put people in gas chambers and ovens. I'm sure someone's going to try to make the arguement that Hitler also opposed unions, but guess what? In my job, I have to deal with union bullshit/power grabs and all the bureucratic inefficiancy that would make your head explode, and I've since developed a distaste for them as well - does that make me Hitler-like too? So how about this – how ‘bout the only person we compare to Hitler is Hitler himself? Or how ‘bout we save his image for when we want to storm state capitals to protest actual literal mass genocide? Think about. Get back to me.

6. Homeless drug addicts with good voices who abandon their 9 kids and wife. I don’t celebrate your bad life decisions just because you sound good doing voiceovers for Kraft Cheese and Macaroni.

7. Chicago Mayoral Race – because four blocks separates my apartment and having to make an impossible decision between many evils.

8. Oh, and the political endorsements/television ads that come with it. I mean really – are you going to vote for someone just because the Chicago Tribune tells you to? Do you really believe that when Rahm so earnestly looks into the camera and tells you that “city government is not an employment agency,” he’s really going to be looking out for the best interests of the city once he sinks into the overstuffed leather chair behind the Mayor’s desk? If you do, then give me a call – I’ve got some really lucrative investment opportunities for you.

FAT
To celebrate my one year anniversary as an Ironman, I weighed myself at the gym last week.

Turns out that my once-favorite Ironman motto of “You will do this” has become “If it ain’t elastic, I ain’t wearing it.”


Stink
My farts have been really bad as of late. Like, smell wise. And potency.

The kind where, 10 minutes after you fart, it still hangs thick in the air like the shame over a bedroom the morning after a one night stand.

Or so I’ve heard.

From my friends.

They’re real sluts.


Twit
I have reached the pinnacle of voyeurism. No, it wasn’t the obsessive scouring of photos every time I get a friend request on FB, or even the routine checking of blogs.

I mean, yes - I still do those.

But I refer now to the fact that I have been on Twitter for a week now, have yet to post even once, but check it about one an hour.

Twitter is like the cliff-notes version of blogging. One liners, right to the point.

“Just got back from run and it sucked.”

“Made cookies and ate them all.”

And it was all fun and games until this morning – when I didn’t get to the remote control fast enough, and ended up having my senses assaulted by the *ahem* ladies of The View.

Turns out good old Barbara W is all about the Twitter now.

So I figure, if 150-year-old ladies are getting on this bandwagon, maybe its already time to get off.

I mean, first Ashton, then Oprah, and now this?

Is there ANYTHING cool a celebrity doesn’t ruin?!?!?!


Drink Up
My job has officially turned me into a wino. No shit. For the last 10 years, I have been virtually alcohol free, save a few minor incidents of which we no longer speak.

And all photos have been burned.

Anylush, I have now taken to having a glass of wine every night. I figure, hey, if I have to work until midnight, just to round out my 18 hour days, why not do it with some of this magic elixir everyone is talking about?

I have somehow reasoned that a glass of wine is somehow sooo much better and less of a "on-her-way-to-being-a-drunk-in-the-gutter"-type-vice then pouring myself a stiff martini.

Just how is this different?

I don’t know.

But four glasses in, I don’t care either.

A Little Piece of Mind, with Some Phelps and Brown Thrown In

Just A Thought
Can we please stop encourging:
A. Mischa Barton
B. The Jonas Brothers

Why?

Because A is irrelevant ever since the "OC" became the "No See," and B is talentless. And no, 10-year-old girls are not appropriate judges of that.


Or Maybe I’m Just Too Old To Understand Kids These Days
So I’ve been on this whole “Let’s wait until the full story comes out before I launch a tirade” lately. I have decided to mostly sit back and wait until things unfold before speaking my mind (BL being the sole exception).

Now granted, I know this might take my edge off sometimes, but perhaps a little edge in the short term means a lot less people stuffing words in my mouth in the long term.

For example, you may be wondering, “Hey Megan – what are your thoughts about the stimulus package?”

And to that I would say, “Let’s wait and see.”

I know, right?

It’s like I don’t even know myself.

And that’s not to say I don’t have opinions – oh I do, and lately they have been aimed at not just the stimulus package, but this travesty of American media called "Octo Mom," that atrocity of a story about the 13-year-old boy in the UK who had a kid with his 15-year-old girlfriend, and the fact that it takes 14 quarters to park for one hour in downtown Chicago.

But for now, my "wait-and-see" period has expired on the Chris Brown/Rhianna incident.

(for those of you, like my fiancé, who have been eyebrow deep in insurance claims in Arkasas for the last several weeks, I refer to the incident that took place the night before the Grammy’s when Chris Brown “allegedly” used his girlfriend’s face as his own personal boxing session.)

First let me say that, yes - he needs to have his day in court. And yes - I did see that his father says he’s “remorseful.” And no - I was not there and I don’t know for sure what the details are regarding their fight.

HOWEVER - What we know for sure is that he did, in fact, hit her. So what pisses me off the most about this situation (in addition to the hitting) are the people that make comments like, “Maybe she started the fight” or “I hear she’s a bitch so she probably made him do it” and “She threw his keys out the window – I would hit a bitch too!” and “Now all the nazifeminists are trying to take him down!”

Okay people – first off – who is raising you?

Because in my world, no matter who says what about who, YOU DON’T HIT A GIRL.

In fact, girls shouldn’t hit boys either, but that’s not really what’s disputed here.

You don’t justify a female beat-down based on who started an argument.

You don’t look at a situation of domestic violence and say, “Well, maybe she deserved it.”

Maybe I’m old fashioned or what not, but no girl deserves to be beat down.

When did this become socially acceptable or excusable?

Oh – and the worst part about those comments I listed above?

They were all real, and all made by females.

Females that apparently think it’s okay for men to hit them.

And yes, the word “nazifeminist” was used.

As if those who support female rights rank right up there with the group of people responsible for the deaths of millions of Jewish people.

Really, people? Really?

Second of all – this child has been raised in a culture that glorifies female powerlessness. Although his own songs don’t necessarily reflect this – they are mostly more pop music then anything – he was mentored and brought up through the whole P. Diddy/bitches/hos/ladies-dancing-in-bikinis scene – and from what I understand, it’s not really a scene that promote female power or respect (and no, Lil’ Kim doesn’t count as representative of power, no matter how often she says her p*$$y is the almighty – in fact, referring to a female genitalia in a rap song is pretty much the exact OPPOSITE of respect, and instead a universal commentary on female exploitation, as a general rule of thumb…but then again, I am sure I am considered old fashioned).

Moreover, this society made him a multimillionaire with six cars, a mansion and a lifetime of entitlement, all by the age of 15.

Then he busts a punch to Rhianna’s face, and people are like, “But he’s such a nice guy! How did this happen?”

Well, shit, I don’t know – let’s call his publicist, stylist, manager, agent, studio director, video producer, album coordinator, and general assistant to get a comment.

Give me a fucking break.


Role Model
Seeing as I was dubbed “Narc” by my siblings, a loving term given in no small part to my ability to sniff out and rat on the use of illegal drugs during adolescence, I am the last person to advocate or ignore substance use.

I am pretty much the poster child for a drug-free America.

Bottom line - Drug use is no bueno to me.

But at the same time, I feel like people need to back the fuck off of Michael Phelps.

I mean, this guy has lived a fairly sheltered and rigidly structured life for almost his whole life.

The guy is nothing if not the epitome of dedication, commitment and self-sacrifice.

The guy wins an ass load of medals, and he wants to be a 23 year old for once – get drunk, smoke some weed, date a stripper?

Whatever man - have at it. Most of us try all this during college anyway (or, not so much the stripper part, but you know), but for Phelps, his college was spent growing fins and adjusting to his gills.

This guy sprinkled the dust of Olympics dreams over the scrambled eggs of his 6000-calorie breakfast every morning.

But what makes my head explode is all these parents want to bitch about their kids not having a role model to look up to, about him being such a disappointment.

Because correct me of I am wrong, but are parents supposed to be the role models?

When did we stop expecting that, and letting sports “heroes” take over that job?

Now, don't get me wrong. It's great to have people as examples of what's possible with hardworkd, focus, and comittment. It's great to have examples of "what's possible."

Phelps was like that.

But I am also a firm believer that if you provide a solid, respectful and supportive home for a child, that child can see shit like Michael Phelps pullin' bongs and say, “Yeah, well, that’s not for me.” Parents are the ones that have to instill the CHARACTER in their children that will ultimately help them differentiate what's right and wrong.

Phelps shouldn't be saddled with the responsbility of that.

Sometimes I think parents really underestimate how much power, influence and authority they have over their kids – mostly because in the last two decades, children seem to have take control over the parents, and parents just throw their hands up.

I see it every effing day in this job – where parents say shit like, “well I just can’t control him” or “I’ve tried everything” when they know they haven’t. Or parents that were emotionally absent or abusive or negligent for the first 15 years, and now they can’t understand why the kids doesn’t listen to them.

I may have a doctorate, but this shit’s not neuroscience.

I mean, at some point we really need to reign in this sports-people-are-gods bullshit. And while we're at it, throw actors and singers into that group too (Miley Cyrus, anyone?)

It time to give the parenting responsibility back to the parents, and stop whining about a 23 year old cutting loose for once.