My push-up bra will help me get my man

This woman is CRAZY!!! Gurrrlllll, I be lovin your new Kool-aid herr!

20% Highly Responisve

I like life on fast forward. Except for school on fast forward, 'cause all that is is classes periods that are twice as long as normal and so much homework that you'll never get it all done unless you get real creative.  But you know, I hate standing still. I'd much rather have too much on my plate than too little. If I don't have anything to do, I'll invent things to do. Sometimes I'll get a really good idea that ends up in the ruination of several minor European countries.
Gimme gimme more gimme more...
Oh, Britney. Such a good role model. Hit me baby one more time.
Today should keep me on my toes. FDSCI 101 until 12:15, then FDREL until 3:00 and then homework will easily take me until 7:30 when Hip Hop starts, and that'll run into Country Dancin' where I'll go teach Slannen to dance (and hopefully Darwin will be there to dance with me since he's one of the few guys who will actually DANCE with me... he's so much fun. Hooray for Darwin, who used to be Elder King, and that's how I know him. It's funny dancing with someone you used to know as a missionary). Then it'll be 10:00 and time to go home and get ready for bed since I'm trying to break myself of energy drinks and getting 3 hours of sleep is not the way to accomplish that goal. Energy drinks are pretty interesting.
(Just as a random side note, there are two people who I hate a lot. One is Natalie, I told you about her, and the other one is Erik, her bf. I hate them.)
Anyhow, energy drinks are both a godsend and a huge vice. They are getting me through these three-hour classes pretty well, and I'm getting better grades because if them, I am certain of it. If I'm not fighting just to stay awake, I can pay much better attention. More attention = better grades. I'm highly responsive to stimulants. And I don't mean just energy drinks. If you want a reaction from me, it's not overly-difficult to get it. Now, I may not show you what I'm thinking or feeling, but odds are in your favor if you wanted to make me so angry I'd like to punch your lights out, ya did. But here's the hard part. I won't. Well, sometimes I will. But not nearly as often as I'd like. So if I've ever socked you a good one, know that I've probably wanted to do that much more frequently.
You know, I'd like to take a poll. Who thinks I care too much...hang on... I was just about to take a poll from other people, to see if I care too much what other people think. Something is wrong with that picture.
I have this theory. You know how redheads are 20% more perceptive of pain than other people? Maybe that's my deal. I'm 20% more likely to deck you than most other people, possibly because I'm 20% more angered by your snide remark which hurt my feelings 20% more than you anticipated because you are a blonde/brunette so you don't know about this 20% thing. Logically this leads me to assume that someday I'll fall 20% more in love 20% faster than the average blonde/brunette 23 year old, to someone 20% better-looking than your average hottie.
Unfortunately experience leads me to want to place my money elsewhere. I never love nobody fully, always one foot on the ground. But, like I said, I'm highly responsive. Convince me. (I'm talking to you, Jeff Watkins!! Just kidding, just kidding...)

Start breathing again...

I'm feeling blue. Heather Maschman said that when I feel blue, I should start breathing again. Why is it that when I feel sad, I listen to sad music? Doesn't that just compound the problem? Maybe I'm just trying to comfort myself that someone else is quite worse off than myself. Which is true. I can make an extensive list of people who are worse of than myself. Truth be told, I am very blessed and very happy.  But I do indulge myself in moments of lonliness. So may I propose a toast; let's all toast to life. A toast to the loniless that teaches us the delicious beauty of good company, the broken heart that teaches us to appreciate when hearts are full, to tears of disappointment that run down our cheeks which make us appreciate the lovely warmth of a blush of pleasure, and to the absence of arms around us that teaches us to walk by our own strength. A toast to life even in it's low spots, and a toast to God who in his infinate wisdom and mercy, has given travail to the sons of men, so that we will grow stronger by them.
And now what do we do? Well, I'll turn off the blue tunes and crank the Cowboy Troy. Maybe I'll go play chicken with a train... ;) I know I'll have to fake the happy, force the happy for a little while, but I'll be fooling everyone else, and soon it'll to the Hamlet thing: faked at first, then gradually it becomes true.
And in the meantime, I'll think of my favorite things. 1.Batman, my beautiful Arabian horse who never lost a race. 2. Papa Dan 3. Conquering the Wild West with Andy. 4. Off-roading in my jeep. 5. My sister Shannon, who gets my humor. 6. My best buddies, elders from my mish. 7. Dancing. 8. Pretty dresses that bounce as I walk. 9. White water rafting trips I get credit for. 10. Honestly, the Book of Mormon. I thank God for that book.
See there, I'm starting to breathe again.

Praise God and Pass the Cherry Coke

"She just said Coke! I thought she was a Mormon!!"
She is. And she is enjoying her Cherry Coke right now. You know, I've come to the conclusion, that if I've got a Cherry Coke, I can conquer the world. Loads of homework from Professor Carter? Pound a Coke and see if that pile of papers doesn't look like downright FUN. Oh yeah Quantum Theory bring it. Oh yeah good-looking guy across the room from me bring it. Oh yeah ex-bf who I just found out is currently married to the chick he cheated on me with and is also currently attending the same school as me bring it. I got a Cherry Coke. What Now!!?? That's what I thought! Walk away, just walk away.
"Meagan... you are sounding a little rebellious again..."
Oh, I am not. I am sounding like a perfectly normal, intelligent human being who isn't over-obsessed with being one of those amazing plastic people with amazing plastic smiles and fake hearts and fake lives and fake devotion to God their Father. Okay, that was a little harsh. I'm a little quick to bite on that subject 'cause I've got this friend who looks pretty perfect. This person appears to have it all; we all know one. Good looking, got money, got a car, got members of the opposite sex all over them, loves church and goes to the temple all the time. I really like this person and want to be their friend. But I get the feeling all the time that this person judges me really harshly, judges everyone harshly. I hope I'm wrong. But the more I get to know this person, the more I think, 'Crap. You're not an amazing plastic person, are you?'
"Meagan... so you got problems. We all got problems. Enough of the problems, okay?"
Haha, okay deal. Wait, problems? You got problems, I got Cherry Coke.
Take that, amazing plastic people.

Green Eyes In Africa Trailer

My thoughts on the subject friends, boyfriends, exes and break-ups.

So, as most of you who read my blog are aware, I recently broke up. Even the best of break-ups SUCK, and this one wasn't the best kind. (Spoiler alert, this will not be a detailed account of Meagan's break-up, so if that's what you're after, today is not your lucky day.) But luckily for me, Tad (real name changed)  is a really great guy.
"If he's so great, why aren't you dating him, Meagan?"
Good question. Great question actually. I think that Tad sometimes thinks that I thought he wasn't good enough for me. That isn't true at all. It's not a matter of 'good enough'. Tad's certainly 'good enough'. But he's just not right for me. It's like when you're fixing to buy a horse. I'm a long-distance racer. I'm gonna be looking into Arabians, maybe Thoroughbreds, and a few other breeds can suprise you in their stamina. One day at a fair, I see this incredible Belgian. The most beautiful Belgian, perfect in every way it should be. I can't resist going over to give him a try. He's amazing. But the more I try him out, the more I know that he's not right for me. He's strong and lovable. But he can't run a 200 mile race, and I need a racer. Keeping him to myself is selfish, because out there somewhere is someone looking hard for the perfect Belgian. Doesn't mean he's not good enough. Doesn't mean I'd ever change a thing about him. He might be the finest Belgian in the state. But I'm looking for an Arabian. So now I'm off, looking for that perfect horse again, but that doesn't mean I'll forget that wonderful Belgian.
The real trouble some in the fact that people aren't like horses. Horses can love to a degree, can feel loyalty to a certain point, but people can feel it much more. The awful, tragic part is that when Meagan realized she wasn't looking for a 'Tad', she suddenly saw that Tad was looking for a 'Meagan'. (At least Tad is convinced he wants a Meagan. I still think he'd be better off if he at least gave try to a, oh... say... 'Kalie'. Ahem.)  And there is no easy way put of that. Trust me, I tried hard to find a way out that didn't involve Tad getting hurt.
So now we're 'friends from afar', as per his request, since being around me is no longer healthy for him, he says. I hold out for the hope that we can be friends again one day. We started out as friends, after all. Who thinks that's possible? Can you go back to being 'just friends'? I always thought you could. I can't think of a single ex who I wouldn't love to give a big hug to if I saw them again, just as a good friend. (w/ the exeption of the one who is currently in the pen) 
Can guys and girls be 'just friends' at all, in reality? I've been called naive for this one, too. To my guy friends: are we legit friends, buddies, pals, or are the other reasons that we hang, that you've got my back? You secretly been givin' me the sneaky up-down look? Hahaha, no that thought is just too ridiculous. Well, maybe Skylar Nance has, but that's all. Just kidding, Skylar. Just playing.

The only person on my good side is Mother Teresa.

I am so cranky right now. It is hilarious. I have a hard time being truly, seriously cranky. I just start laughing in the middle of it all.
Hey, so shout out to my FDAM professor~ Hey! Bite me you facist paper nazi!!!
Yeah. I actually wrote him an email today. I wasn't very happy. How about I copy it here and we take a we start placing bets on how soon Meagan gets chucked out of class. Here it is:

Dear Professor Lewis,

Thank you for the sample assignment. I think that it is just what I need to make sure I get the format right. You are very strict about that particular detail, so I know it must be important to you. I will be sure to get it right from here out.

However, I am affronted that you immediately assumed that I was trying to be sneaky. My introductory material was wider spaced than it was supposed to be, and I was frustrated by this as you apparently are. I could not get it to co-coperate, and I'm not a Computer Science major. You appear to be very comfortable being frank with us, so I hope you don't mind my returning the sentiment.

Thank you again for the solution to our problem. May I suggest sending the Sample Assignment out BEFORE your classes start in the future, instead of a lengthy and confusing description that 85% of your students failed to understand, and scathing reviews afterwards.

Sincerely,

Meagan Quirk

To his credit, I just got a very nice email back from him. So he appartenly is a better person than I. Big shocker.

I am laughing so hard about all of this. I can't believe myself sometimes. The things I do, I swear. Like the time I erased Justin Zuniga's call from what's-her-names cell phone so she'd think he hadn't called. That was so stupid, so messed up. And so hilarious.

So it's gonna be one of THOSE days, huh? Well, alright then.

My belly hurts!!!! Probably from eating my roommates bread dough. Dough never sat well with me, really. Also probably because I failed to ASK for permission to eat the dough, so this is the natural consequence of theivery. Dang it. I do not enjoy feeling sick. The only good thing about being sick is when people find out you're sick, they are nice to you. Sometimes you even get chicken soup and ginger ale. I don't know that chicken soup or ginger ale have actually ever cured me of any disease, but it's not as if I'd ever object to them either. Who started this whole chicken soup business? Why don't we bring chocolate cake and Coca-cola? I will definately not be turnin' down me some chocolate cake and Coke. Just the sound of that is making me feel better.
'Gah, I feel so sick.' says Meagan
'Oh no, really?' says her friend
'Yeah. I think I'll throw my guts up and die.'  whines Meagan
'Well, dang. I was gonna invite you over for chocolate cake and Coke.' says her friend, smiling to himself because he read Meagan's blog and now knows how to bribe her and exactly how she'll react.
'Eh? What what? Chocolate cake? Coke? I suppose I might be able to manage the teensiest morsel.' says Meagan, not realizing she walked RIGHT INTO HIS PALM.
Now, in retrospect, I can see how this all happens. But at the time, I'm just walking along on my little sunbeam, temporarily forgetting about all the sneakiness in this world. That's sort of me in my natural state: happily walking to class, lost in my own little redheaded thoughts, oblivious to anyone around me who isn't fitting into my mental charade of movie-stardom.
Anyone ever read "The Color Code"? No, that is not like "The DaVinci Code". Well, if you have, I am a Yellow Blue. I'm guessing I'm 65% Yellow and 35% Blue. Anyhow, what that means is that I like fun. I am motivated by fun. "It'll be fun..." is the most tempting phrase on earth. I have gotten into a great deal of trouble on the grounds of fun and attempted fun. So worth it. :) You want to know why I chose to come to Earth after the great council in Heaven? No earthly trial = no progression = no more fun. You know why I don't want to go to Hell? Heaven sounds like more fun. Guess why I don't like to do bad things. Cause then I feel guilty, I feel bad. Feeling bad + feeling guilty = totally cramping the style of fun. Can't have fun when you're feeling guilty for being a jerk/ cheating on a test/ teasing nerds/ robbing a bank or whatever. You know, sometimes it's a bad thing, but it's really a good thing sometimes. Let's say that one night I wanted to have some fun, and going to the club with my sexy boyfriend sounded pretty tempting. Well, chances are I'd end up going. At first it would be fun. I'd be dancing with a guy who digs me and I'd be feelin' like a million bucks...but in about half an hour, I start feeling a little guilty. "Hmmm..." I wonder, "What is this very non-fun feeling? I think  it's coming from the blasting obsenities and scantily clad crowd. You, know, I suspect I am being bad. Hmm, so being bad = feeling bad = no fun. Time to bounce!!" By the way, there's a scripture about that. "Behold, I say unto you, wickedness never was happiness" Alma 41:10.  That, translated into Yellow, says "Behold, I say unto you, wickedness is a fun sucker."
I am so random.

Allen's Sunrise Villiage

I live there. It is actually Men's Housing, but I managed to weasle my way in. Men are quite fun. But I must confess, men, you confuse me. You would prefer me to look pretty than plain, right? I was under that general impression. I like to dress up, and this morning I was careful to look very pretty, and I watched carefully to see how men treated me. Pretty well, they held a few doors and I caught the up-down glance a few times.  Then after class, I went home and took a long nap, woke up all tousled and flushed and my make-up slightly smeared. I yawned and trudged to the Library to do some homework. And oh boy, were the men nice, laud they were lovey-dovey. So here's the question, men-folk: You want me pretty or not?? You are all perfectly ridiculous. And there's one or two who I know perfectly well would like to ask me out. I know they won't. I can't fathom why. It's not as if I'd bite them. What's the WORST CASE SCENARIO?
"Hey, Megs, how'd you like to go to the movies with me?" asks the guy
"Hm, you mean like a date?"  asks me
"Well, yeah." says the guy
"Well, I gotta tell you, I'm interested in another guy/ not into dating right now" (Or whatever. With me, It'll always be honest, tactful as possible, and friendly.) "Can we go as friends? I'll buy my own ticket, and I'll pitch in for snacks."
That is the worst case scenario.
Best case scenario, I blush and say I'd love to.
This can't really be all that bad.
May I offer a little but of girl advice to you guys? If she's pretty and she smiles, do not be afraid. If she doesn't smile, be very afraid. It means she's snotty and mean. If she does smile, strike up a conversation. After ten minutes of talking, it is officially okay to say, "Hey, can I get your number?" and then call her two or three days later. When you call, don't be all awkward. Have a plan. i.e. 'I'm going to call Mimi and ask her hows shes been, if shes been really busy, and maybe how she likes her new apartment. When I've exhausted those subjects, I'll ask her if she'd like to go to the Hogi Yogi with me. (She's gonna say yes) So I'll pick her up at 6 on Friday. Then I'll say 'awsome, I'm excited' and then say 'Goodbye.' The End.' This is an example of a good plan. YOU JUST GOT YOURSELF A DATE. WITH A HOTTIE!!! Now go brag to all your buddies and tell them who's the man. Chances are, Mimi thinks you're the man, too. Chicks dig manly men. Mimi thinks that asking for her number was pretty bold. She's right.
"Dang," you may think, "I'm not tall and handsome and buff. Chicks don't dig me."
Well, only if you have an attitude like that. One of the BEST guys I ever dated didn't fit into the 'quarterback' kind of physique, but he was super manly. He was bold, he was smart, and dang he smelled good. And he had the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. My heart still flutters a little. !!! Yeah, you can flutter the ladies hearts too guys.
Dang, bed time. Perhaps I'll write more later. Or perhaps I'll just go to sleep and dream of bold guys who actually ask for my number, not just sit there for an hour trying to work up the nerve. Night! ;)

Creation Myths

You know what I honestly think about Ancient Egyptian creation myths? I think they are a lot of phooey-- at least the Mesopotamians had their story more or less uniform (maybe thanks to cuniform hahahaha--sorry that was a super lame joke) but in Egypt we've got gods all over the place and gods spitting out new gods, and its never the same god if you get the story from another city. Sometimes god A created god B who spit out god C, but travel on down to Thebes and suddenly it was god C who preceded them all, and god B spit out god A. WHA?????????????  Who comes up with this stuff?!
Sorry, we were talking about Creation stories in my last class.
Regina Spektor's 'Dance Anthem of the 80's' should be called 'Dance Anthem of Meagan Quirk'. I have been rockin' to that tune all morning. Gotta love iTunes.
My sunglasses got broken sometime between yesterday at 2:00p and this morning at about 7:30a. LAME! I just bought these babies. I've got two wonderful words for ya'll... Super Glue. That'll solve my sunglasses woes.
Oh no, the professor just walked in which means class time is imminent.

Continue-um

HAH!! Homework defeated. And it's now time to go conquer my toothbrush and my contacts and the shower, really. But since I'm kinda excited about this whole blog business, I suppos I can steal a minute to indulge myself.
The homework just finished was for FDSCI 101 which is a RIDICULOUS class. FDSCI 203 is much better. Today we went into 'the feild' for FDSCI 203. Hiked around and counted trees, I'm serious. I thought to myself, 'Who do you think I am? Daniel Robison? ' but it ended up being pretty great. It's a 6 HOUR CLASS anyhow, so it had darn well better be in the feild, cause guess who's not sitting at a desk for 6 hours? Me, that's who.
Did my laundry today. Good thing, too. Didn't think that the mushrooms growing off my dirty jeans were very normal. It's nice to have sweet smelling sheets again, and all my shirts hanging up are perfumed and ironed. Hey, is it wierd to perfume shirts? I just like them to smell good. Okay, well, I MYSELF also enjoy that little plus.
Okay, yeah. Bedtime. Night!

So this is a blog, huh?

Well, it's 11:18pm and I ought to be re-typing that paper that just got DELETED but I'll get to that in a minute. On second thought, now I feel guilty. Oh blast. I'm going to go do my homework now.