Hello. My name is Meghan. I've begun to watch reality tv. SAVE ME!
I really don't have many shows on television that I get excited about. Man V. Food is one that I love to watch but I've been slacking on that a bit. So it is really surprising to me that I've started wanting to watch tv more. Not any tv. No. I'm afraid it's reality. I've been able to skip the "Survivor" craze, "So You Think You Can Dance", "The Hills," and "Jersey Shore." There was that blip early in the day when I watched "American Idol" and a few random "Real World" but those were blips. I also really got into "Big Brother" when I lived in Wales but that was overseas so it doesn't count.
Now, I'm going to step out here and make an admission. Much to my husband's dismay, I've started watching "Dancing with the Stars." I was really curious about who "The Situation" was and how Bristol Palin could dance. Matt's been working in the evenings on freelance comic books so I'm going to blame this on the comics. (His work will appear here in the next few months at Mystery Solved. Check it out. It's really great. Matt also has a Deviant art page with his other work. We're shopping his "Caaats!" book around at the moment.)
"Dancing with the Stars" is one thing but I'm afraid I've turned a corner. While Matt (seeing a trend here?) had his comic creating buddies over one Friday night. I succumbed to Netflix and watched..."Keeping up with the Kardasians." There is no excuse but I watched an entire vapid first season! I even (gasp!) watched half of the second season. It was a long drawing session! What could I do!
So it's Monday night and Matt's upstairs working. "Dancing with the Stars" is on tv. I actually set a reminder. I think I may be too far gone. As long as I stay away from "Keeping up with the Kardasians" I think I'll be okay. At least I'm not voting...yet. How did I get to this point!?
Monday, October 18, 2010
It all goes back to fudge and coffee.
When I was about 14 or 15, my dad said to me, "Meg, you should get a job." I'm not sure why he thought that. Maybe it was that age that kids used to go off and make a livin' back in the day. Maybe he was tired of me asking for cash (entirely possible). Or maybe, just maybe, he thought I could go out and learn somethin'.
I started the job search that day. I remember it really well. It was a sunny day and I kinda think it was fall time which means it was most likely summer. I sat down in my room with my totally 90's-tastic clear phone with the neon pink florescent light in it (it rocked, I know it) and started making calls. Being so young had its disadvantages. I couldn't drive, laws prohibited me from worked to much or past a certain time, and of course it had to be cool. I couldn't just work anywhere! Eventually, my parents suggested I give a woman from our church, Vanetta, a call. She owned a place called, "Prints of Peace." It was a art gallery, framing place that also happened to have a coffee bar where they made fudge, cappuccinos, and lattes. I was hired! That was such a stroke of luck!
That was maybe the best job in high school EVER. I was a barista in the highest form...well, maybe not but I could make a mean Funky Monkey latte. The store was in Grabill, Indiana so it wasn't the metropolis of nearby Fort Wayne but it was pretty busy at times. After working there a few years, I decided I needed more experience so I, um, traded up to Blockbuster. That was not as fun and walking into a Blockbuster these days still makes me shudder. I'm not sure what the smell is at Blockbuster but there is one. I'd traded in the aromas of fresh fudge and coffee for plastic and weird smells I still can't distinguish.
College was a weird mix of jobs but once I left the coffee shop, I kinda think it took a turn for the worse. I worked at a dry cleaning place for all of 2 weeks at most (and holds the record as the only job I was fired from...don't ask). Then I worked at a senior living community with the best cuties ever. One, Wilma Fox, still holds a special place in my heart. I also had a student ministries position working with teen moms in Anderson by my university, Anderson University.
After college, I can sum it up really quick: worked for my dad, worked for two other companies, lived in Cardiff Wales (BLISS!), worked for my dad, and then to where I am now working for both parents. My post-college jobs all involved graphic design. I did nearly give it up once to go back to school and get my masters in English so I could go into the book business. I didn't though when my parents opened their own company.
I'm not sure why the job history via blog. I've always felt happy I never had to be a waitress. I never had to work fast food. And aside from the dry cleaners, I've been really lucky. I didn't always treat the jobs right (dry cleaners) and the first three design jobs I had, I took for granted. I was really young and probably had too much autonomy than I should have.
I've always found it interesting how much enjoyment I get out of work and it really is fulfilling. I've been sick for a week with the flu and then a cold. Tomorrow I am going to tackle it again and I'm kinda nervous. Like the first day of school. Kinda, like my first day at the coffee shop.
I started the job search that day. I remember it really well. It was a sunny day and I kinda think it was fall time which means it was most likely summer. I sat down in my room with my totally 90's-tastic clear phone with the neon pink florescent light in it (it rocked, I know it) and started making calls. Being so young had its disadvantages. I couldn't drive, laws prohibited me from worked to much or past a certain time, and of course it had to be cool. I couldn't just work anywhere! Eventually, my parents suggested I give a woman from our church, Vanetta, a call. She owned a place called, "Prints of Peace." It was a art gallery, framing place that also happened to have a coffee bar where they made fudge, cappuccinos, and lattes. I was hired! That was such a stroke of luck!
That was maybe the best job in high school EVER. I was a barista in the highest form...well, maybe not but I could make a mean Funky Monkey latte. The store was in Grabill, Indiana so it wasn't the metropolis of nearby Fort Wayne but it was pretty busy at times. After working there a few years, I decided I needed more experience so I, um, traded up to Blockbuster. That was not as fun and walking into a Blockbuster these days still makes me shudder. I'm not sure what the smell is at Blockbuster but there is one. I'd traded in the aromas of fresh fudge and coffee for plastic and weird smells I still can't distinguish.
College was a weird mix of jobs but once I left the coffee shop, I kinda think it took a turn for the worse. I worked at a dry cleaning place for all of 2 weeks at most (and holds the record as the only job I was fired from...don't ask). Then I worked at a senior living community with the best cuties ever. One, Wilma Fox, still holds a special place in my heart. I also had a student ministries position working with teen moms in Anderson by my university, Anderson University.
After college, I can sum it up really quick: worked for my dad, worked for two other companies, lived in Cardiff Wales (BLISS!), worked for my dad, and then to where I am now working for both parents. My post-college jobs all involved graphic design. I did nearly give it up once to go back to school and get my masters in English so I could go into the book business. I didn't though when my parents opened their own company.
I'm not sure why the job history via blog. I've always felt happy I never had to be a waitress. I never had to work fast food. And aside from the dry cleaners, I've been really lucky. I didn't always treat the jobs right (dry cleaners) and the first three design jobs I had, I took for granted. I was really young and probably had too much autonomy than I should have.
I've always found it interesting how much enjoyment I get out of work and it really is fulfilling. I've been sick for a week with the flu and then a cold. Tomorrow I am going to tackle it again and I'm kinda nervous. Like the first day of school. Kinda, like my first day at the coffee shop.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
The car that caught fire and how I blame a Christian Rock band.
Everyone has that one car from their teenage years. Either you were in love with it, embarrassed of it, crashed it, or really owned it (we're talking fringe, hydraulics, paint job you name it). I had several cars in high school. And while my family likes to taunt me that I was a horrible driver, I wasn't. I did ask how to "point this thing" when driving with my dad for the first time but I was trying to be funny.
I mean, yes, there was the day I went into the ditch...twice (different ditch, same car). There was the white Taurus that I experimented with airbags on (they hurt when they come out. I wouldn't advise experimenting). And yes, I did go "off-roading" into a cornfield with the white Taurus (it wasn't a ditch and in my defense, I TOTALLY would have gotten away with it had it not been for the cornstalks sticking out of my tailpipe.). But the one car which gave me a bad rap that was totally not my fault was the cranberry colored GrandAm. I got this after the Taurus was put to pasture (they just don't stick airbags back in I guess). I loved it. It looked fast. It was reddish. The seats were all cool and buckety. And the stereo seriously rocked. The thing that made me not love the GrandAm was the fire. THAT I had nothing to do with.
I was reminded of the GrandAm and my love for it this weekend. My husband and I got tickets to a Jars of Clay Concert. As they opened, they said they were celebrating their 15th year of making music together since their first album. That album, is what made my GrandAm rock. They played through their whole first album. Each song reminded me of something in that flying cranberry. When they started to play "Flood" though, it all came back. It was 1995 and although I was on my second car, I hadn't had my license for too long. This album came out and was on solid replay. I turned the base all of the way up and "Flood" made the windows shake. I was rockin' out. I remember coming home and my parents coming out just laughing because they could hear me coming up the drive. They live in the woods and they have a really long driveway so I must of been jamming. As Jars was playing the song this weekend, I sent my parents a text,
What happened, was this car was maybe a lemon. It's hard to tell. My mom and I were minding our own business driving when smoke started pouring from the vents. We're not talking a little smoke. We're talking major can't-breathe-gray-smoke. We pulled over on Jefferson, hopped out and called my dad. The car was towed and turns out the defroster had caught on fire. What I don't get is why did the defroster catch fire IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SUMMER!? Yeah. I don't buy it but that's what we were told.
So, I get a bad rap for cars and then this happens. This was not my fault. Clearly though someone has to be blamed and it all clicked for me. Jars of Clay. This may sound like a stretch but stick with me. I was rocking out. Bass turned all the way up. Thumping to "Flood" rattling it all around in there. It's a cheap GrandAm (sorry if you own one. It was a 93 so it's old.). Things are going to move. They got the wires all jumbled and shaken up. That's the only thing I can think of. It all makes sense now...okay. It doesn't. That's weak I guess. But still. How could that be my fault? In my defense, I've not had a wreck or fender bender since 2002 in my new VW Beetle. I think I've matured...and gotten to be a better driver just maybe.
Just to back up my theory, here's the totally 90's tastic video clip of the song. Imagine the base. Oh that 90's hair and clothes.
I mean, yes, there was the day I went into the ditch...twice (different ditch, same car). There was the white Taurus that I experimented with airbags on (they hurt when they come out. I wouldn't advise experimenting). And yes, I did go "off-roading" into a cornfield with the white Taurus (it wasn't a ditch and in my defense, I TOTALLY would have gotten away with it had it not been for the cornstalks sticking out of my tailpipe.). But the one car which gave me a bad rap that was totally not my fault was the cranberry colored GrandAm. I got this after the Taurus was put to pasture (they just don't stick airbags back in I guess). I loved it. It looked fast. It was reddish. The seats were all cool and buckety. And the stereo seriously rocked. The thing that made me not love the GrandAm was the fire. THAT I had nothing to do with.
I was reminded of the GrandAm and my love for it this weekend. My husband and I got tickets to a Jars of Clay Concert. As they opened, they said they were celebrating their 15th year of making music together since their first album. That album, is what made my GrandAm rock. They played through their whole first album. Each song reminded me of something in that flying cranberry. When they started to play "Flood" though, it all came back. It was 1995 and although I was on my second car, I hadn't had my license for too long. This album came out and was on solid replay. I turned the base all of the way up and "Flood" made the windows shake. I was rockin' out. I remember coming home and my parents coming out just laughing because they could hear me coming up the drive. They live in the woods and they have a really long driveway so I must of been jamming. As Jars was playing the song this weekend, I sent my parents a text,
"@ jars of clay concert. Reminds me of rockin out in the GrandAm. :)" I got this response,
"ha!!! Dad wants to know what caught on fire?"
It took me a second and then I got it. Not funny. All of a sudden, I was not loving the GrandAm.
What happened, was this car was maybe a lemon. It's hard to tell. My mom and I were minding our own business driving when smoke started pouring from the vents. We're not talking a little smoke. We're talking major can't-breathe-gray-smoke. We pulled over on Jefferson, hopped out and called my dad. The car was towed and turns out the defroster had caught on fire. What I don't get is why did the defroster catch fire IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SUMMER!? Yeah. I don't buy it but that's what we were told.
So, I get a bad rap for cars and then this happens. This was not my fault. Clearly though someone has to be blamed and it all clicked for me. Jars of Clay. This may sound like a stretch but stick with me. I was rocking out. Bass turned all the way up. Thumping to "Flood" rattling it all around in there. It's a cheap GrandAm (sorry if you own one. It was a 93 so it's old.). Things are going to move. They got the wires all jumbled and shaken up. That's the only thing I can think of. It all makes sense now...okay. It doesn't. That's weak I guess. But still. How could that be my fault? In my defense, I've not had a wreck or fender bender since 2002 in my new VW Beetle. I think I've matured...and gotten to be a better driver just maybe.
Just to back up my theory, here's the totally 90's tastic video clip of the song. Imagine the base. Oh that 90's hair and clothes.
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