FINALLY

So you all now know that I'm one big fat liar. I said I would post the second half to my story on Friday...and what day is it? Tuesday, I think, and I have done nothing of the sort. What a putz. In my defense I am lazy. So there.


Oh, and thank you to those who asked, my eye is back to normal. I have been freakishly avoiding rubbing my eyes though. Seriously.


Okay, so where did I leave off? Do you even remember that I had a story started? If not, scroll down a few to refresh...no, not the Victoria secret post, that one is never to be resurrected again...one more. There. Now I shall finish.


So P1 got my number that night, purple pants and all. I'm not sure how the beginning transpired, but I do know that shortly Heather and I starting hanging out with the motley crew multiple times a week. They lived a good 30 minutes from us so my mom of course thought I would be killed on the highway for traveling that far, but a good eye roll or two solved that.


So P1...where do I begin? He was quiet...shy even...and had a somewhat, alright totally, checkered past. I soon found out that he had just gotten out of jail? boot camp? something of the sort due to a little indiscretion we like to refer to as grand theft auto. And no, not the game. Red flags? Nah...he's so cuuuute! So somehow in my little pea-sized brain I chalked this up to 'no problem' and continued to see him. He also apparently ran with a pretty tough crowd. He said he was part of the Crips, but all I know is it was a gang of some sort. I wasn't lying when I referenced the picture of him as the only white peep amounts a see of black peeps, all with shirts off and all with guns. Red flag? Nah....he's so cuuuute! ::Megan shakes head in disbelief::


So things were going splendidly, we all hung out all the time, P1 and I would go to movies...he was always very affectionate which I thought belied his rough exterior (another plus in my 17 year old mind). One night at the movies I noticed he was wearing a ring on his ring finger...on his left hand. Being that I was 17 and he was 19 I didn't think too much of it, but did ask jokingly if he was married. He laughed it off and said no. But now that I think about it I never saw that ring again after that point. hmmmmm. Another time I noticed that a picture of me was ripped up in his wallet. What happened? My little, naive, straight-A self asked. "Oh, this fat girl likes me and saw your picture and got mad and tore it up". Totally plausible, right? I'm still not keen to the fact that he could actually be married. Didn't even cross my mind. (BTW, why did he have to make the girl that liked him fat?)


Soooo, one night Heather and I are headed to the guy's house that we always hung out at (actually it was his dad's house, but that's neither here nor there). Anyway, funny enough the guys weren't there when we got there. We paged someone from his home phone (this was the early 90's y'all) and one of the guys called back. They said they'd be there shortly. hmmm, okay. So Heather and I make ourselves at home. About that time two girls walk in. Interesting...I've never seen them before. We kind of eye each other up and then continue talking in our groups of two. I think at this point we're in adjacent rooms. All of a sudden I hear, "I can't believe I don't know my own husband's new pager number!" Real loud like. My stomach dropped. I got that ringing sound in my ears. I stopped breathing. P1 had just gotten a new pager number. Suddenly everything came together. The ring, the photo, the fact that the only way I could get a hold of him was by pager....my 17 year old brain finally got it. HE'S MARRIED. Oh fuckity fuck.


I look at Heather with tears welling in my eyes. "he's married" I whisper, hardly able to choke out the words. I see the anger rising in her. The time/space continuum must have shifted because all of a sudden those two girls were gone. I was bawling my eyes out. Heather was insisting we stay and wait for the guys to come back. They KNEW this was going to happen and left me and his wife to meet without them being there. Chicken.shit. After a while I say "let's just leave" as I'm continuing to sob. My body is numb. Unfortunately I'm driving and I think Heather miiiight have been drinking but she decides to drive us home. As we are driving down the street we see them pull in. Heather throws my sweet Chevrolet Celebrity around like it's the General Lee and tears back down the street. We both hop out of the car (Beau Luke Duke style) and force our way into the house. I can't remember too much at that point, but I know I knew then that Heather was my best friend for life. I watched her tear her upper-middle class, cheerleader self up the stairs, racing after P1, busting down a bedroom door and going Jerry Springer on his ass. The only way he got away was by slipping out of his shirt and back down the stairs. The other guys break up the fight and we take it outside. <-- that sounds so badass!

At this point T (P1's friend, who's house we're at) is trying to finagle the pager back that P1 had given me (claaaassy, no?). I threatened to throw it to the ground and Heather had my back. But because I'm a pussy I eventually gave it back. About that time P1's WIFE came back on the scene and literally started to beat the shit out of him. I'm really thankful, looking back, that she didn't take her vengeance out on me when we encountered one another. That would have been ugly. I have a feeling she would have whooped my honor-roll ass. Hello..she was married to an ex-con....


So Heather and I decide our work is done and I'm frankly wanting to get out of there before the cops came. Then I did something very uncharacteristic for me then and for me now. As we were walking to my car (I imagine it halfway up the curb, in a bush) we passed P1's truck (gangstas drive trucks?). I looked at it. It looked at me. I them proceeded to use the heel of my Payless combat boot (those were in style, along with my flannel shirt thankyouverymuch) and kick the everliving shit out of the door. Over and over again. Hitting it as hard as I could. It was dark and my eyes were tear filled...I have no idea how much damage I did. But then we got in the car and drove away.


So that...ladies and gentlemen is my most Jerry Springer moment ever. Ever ever.


Did I mention we continued to hang out for years with that crew? minus P1, of course. Also, I recently looked up their marriage records online for research on this story (because I missed my calling as a PI) and found that they were married a little over two years by the time we first met. Would that have made him 17 when he got married? holy cow....


And for your viewing pleasure I decided to scan some pics from then....NEVERMIND, I can't seem to get this frickity frack scanner working. booo! pictures TBD.

I know..

...I owe you PartII of the P1 story...tomorrow kiddies, tomorrow. Tonight I am free! I finished my last final for the semester and am off for four glorious weeks!! Yipee!


Let's not talk about the test though. I have an old edition of our textbook....the test was over chapters 5-8....which happen to correlate to 4-7 in my book. Which I did not know. Until 5 minutes before the test. So the net effect was zero sum...but really? I read one extra chapter and failed to read another. Maaaaaybe that's why the test was hard? ya think?


Anyway, speaking of studying, last night I was reading for my test today (because as we all know, I procrastinate). So last night as I'm studying I get itchy eyes. So I rub them. I give them one of those full-on palm rubs....ahhhhh....feels soooo nice. As I stop I realize my right eye is hurting...A LOT. It feels like there's something in it. ouch ouch ouch! I look in the mirror...nothing. I don't have my contacts in but I check my case to make sure when I took them out I hadn't torn one and left a piece in my eye. nope.


At this point it hurts to close as well as open my eye. There aren't too many other options when it comes to eye positions. So I try drops, rolling my eyes around in my head, pulling at my eyelids to shake free the acorn that must be in my eyeball. Anything to stop.the.pain. No luck. So I take another look. hmmmmm, it looks like there's something in there....like a piece of my contact. I try to get it out with no luck. Then I move so that my pupil is moving towards my nose. Oh my holy hell....as it moves closer I see what appears to be the top layer of the white part of my eye squinched up in the corner of my eye. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON??? I start to freak. I have to call someone. I specifically remember talking to P3 and before we got off the phone he said 'call if you need anything' which seemed odd at the time, but now I know he has SUPER PSYCHIC POWERS. It was 11:30...wake him? Oh what the hell. I'm pretty sure if I call my mom she'll tell me to go to the emergency room. But then tell me not to because it's storming AGAIN and she thinks I'll be blown away. Then she'll be caught in this never ending cycle of advice. Go to the hospital...no don't, you'll die in the storm...but maybe you should go....no stay. see, it whole be bad. So I call P3.


::groggy voice:: Hello?

::high pitched warbly voice:: You said to call if I needed anything?

Yes?

::said with fast pace and high pitch::OMG my eye is EXPLODING! There is something seriously wrong with my eye. I rubbed it and then it hurt and now it's bunchy in the corner and it hurts and...

Stop, what? Slow down, what did you do?

SIGH...I RUBBED MY EYE AND NOW MY EYE IS BUNCHY.

okay, clam down. explain to me again what happened.

So I do...trying to be calm.

Okay, look in the mirror for me and tell me what you see.

I proceed to do so....

Well, ya know the pink corner of your eye, well there's a lot of the white that seems to be bunched up there when my iris gets close to that corner of my eye.

okay...how about when you move it to the other side?

OMG, I think I'm going to pass out...I'm getting light headed, I have to lie down

okay, go lay in the bed

too late, I'm on the floor...I think I'm going to throw up...what is WRONG WITH MY EYE!! I need an ambulance.

calm down, it's going to be okay.

Then he proceeds to tell me that you can jack up the shape of your eye temporarily and that it's probably a swollen spot near my iris. And that it's happened to him. I don't actually believe him, but I calm down.

go get some ice and a paper towel, take some advil and go to bed. You need to keep your eye closed for the rest of the night.

but I need to study!

I don't think that's going to happen tonight

should I tape my eye shut with a band aid?

ummm, no, I don't think that's necessary.

What if I go BLIND! I love my sight...::whimper:: I never appreciated it like I should have.

You're NOT going to go blind.

I saw a blind person today for the first time in years..at Chick Fil A...it was a sign!

It was not a sign. Go get ice and go to bed.

Thanks for helping me. You said to call if I needed anything.

uh huh...no problem...now go to bed.


He admitted today that for a while he thought I was calling him while dead asleep and dreaming. I haven't ever done that before, but I have 'woken up' and seen a 12 foot spider above my bed, jump out and start running. Like multiple times. So it wasn't that far of a stretch.


I wore my glasses today just to err on the side of caution, although most of the 'swelling' had gone down this morning and I did, in fact, still have my sight. Whew!


And I know it's hard to imagine what I'm talking about. And looking on google for 'damaged white part of eye' gives me things like conjunctivitis. looking up 'stupid ass that rubs her eyes too hard' brings up a picture of me. go figure. All I know is that I almost lost my lunch and passed out while seeing it. and I'm usually not THAT sensitive to gross stuff. Apparently scrunchy whites of my eyes does it though.


okay, so as I'm sitting here attempting to self diagnose and search for pictures on google for your viewing pleasure, I've come to a conclusion. Eye problems MAKE ME PASS OUT AND VOMIT. Apparently I can handle many other things...diseases of the eye...not so much.


May you all never have squinchy eye whites....

Dear Victoria's Secret...

Why must you make me laugh?
Why must you make me cry?
Why must you make me want to curl up in a ball and die?

So for kicks this weekend I tried on a bathing suit in VC. They were all VERY skimpy so I picked out a one piece. My rationale was that it covered my stomach, which truth be told is not actually my problem area. Nonetheless I tell my sister that I'll do it for a good laugh. Let me show you what I tried on:


Wow! What a hot babe! *I* can also look like that, no? No. No, I cannot. And here's why:

A)Victoria dear, you are making this bathing suit for either the women of the itty bitty titty committee or those that have purchased their breasts. Not for the 31 year old with, well, 31 year old breast. There is 0 support in this thing. In fact, it smashed my boobs flat like pancakes and they finally settled somewhere so that you could almost see them from the keyhole in the middle. I like to think of it as a new kind of cleavage. So some support for the girls would be nice (or a few $k for a lift and addition...either or)

B) Victoria. Again, I plead with you. Most woman have hips. I realize that most of your bathing suits are targeted toward prepubescent, slutty teens (Miley Cyrus I'm talkin to you!) and strippers, but can a regular girl get a little love? These little side thingies smooshed my hip fat so that it looked like Angelina Jolie's lips were implanted on each hip. This is gross. Please reconsider.

C)This infraction is a combination of the two above. See that little string? Again with the no support. The girls think it's Saturday and I'm on the couch in my pjs and no bra...they are wild and free without a little 'oomph' in the back. And to add insult to injury? I think I now have Angelina's lips implanted on the sides of my back as well. Little did I know that my back fat was that out of control.

This paints a lovely picture, no?

And finally...

D) This goes beyond Vic....God, if you're listening, can I please have arms like this? Ya know, instead of the meaty ones that are currently attached to my body. Ya know...the ones with bat-like wings hanging below? Unless there are other uses for those. I once tried hang gliding of my roof with those with little to no success. So they aren't for hang gliding. What are they for? If it's all the same to you I'll just take the ones pictured here. Thnxs.

This concludes my critique of Victoria. I had brought this one in the dressing room as well, but once you get hit by a bus does someone really need to tell you to stay out of the street after that? I think not.

WTF with the boobs! I swear someone above is holding those up with fishing line and duct tape. I just know it.

P1 Part I

So after I posted about what my future would be like with certain exes it got me to thinking about some of the stories from my past. And how I better write them down since I have a tendency to forget. Speaking of that, do you ever have friends that say 'do you remember when we....' and go into a long story about some half-brained highly dangerous caper and you end up looking at them like a deer in the headlights? No? Well, this happens to me. Most time I pretend I remember, but a lot of times I don't actually. I never did copious amounts of pot at any point in my life, never was a full blown alcoholic and have only smoked...well, probably a lot of cigarettes, but still...why can't I remember this crap? Lord knows when I'm 80 I will remember the last hour and a half but after that will be a complete mystery. Scary.

anyway, back to the mission at hand. Stories. First I shall expound on P1, ya know...the gang member, the one that was married at 19? Yeah, that one. Because Lord knows it now makes for a pretty humorous tale.

So on my 17th birthday, Heather, Rachael, Diane and I went to the Galleria to go ice skating...hello, how cool were we? Does it make it any cooler that we smoked crack beforehand? kidding! Anyway, to the Galleria we went. After we were done we were walking around the mall and started to notice that a motley crew of guys was following us. Oh, they may show up on a different floor but they always seemed to be within our line of sight.

Being the total neurotic that I was (oh, whoops, and still am) I figured they were there to kidnap and kill us, so we have to get away! Flee! Run to the nearest exit! Never mind that they were around our age...hooligans! all of them! (and really, my radar was TOTALLY right). At some point someone decided we should just go up and talk to them. My heart is beating fast...we are approaching the enemy. It truly was the most random concoction of guys you've ever seem. One who was clean cut, one who appeared clean cut but had a spiderweb tattoo on his neck (which was actually fake), one nerdy-ish looking guy with glasses (except that he had real tattoos) and one guy that looked like a total thug. You know...thugs from the early/mid-nineties (BTW, try finding a picture of THAT on google..impossible. of course I'm not sure 'gang member attire early 90s is going to get many hits) So, you know, baggy pants, flannel shirt, those construction worker looking tan boots...hat pulled down low. Sweet. So guess which one *I* like? Of course, the thug...megan likey bad boys at that point in her life.

So we continue to talk to these guys. P1 is the strong, silent type. Which makes him that much more attractive. BTW, I think he was wearing baggy purple pants...how is this relevant? I'm not sure, but it seems like it's worth mentioning. Obvious signs that my taste in men is spot-on. So my friend Rachael had a BAD habit of going after guys I liked. And was usually more forceful, and more successful I might add. But not in this case (boy! was I lucky of WHAT?). I reluctantly gave him my number at the end of the night even though I thought he was cute...I just knew it was not a good idea...and we went on our way. Little did I know that would set into motion that most Jerry Springer moment of my life....

To be continued....

Meeeee-oooow

Your Slogan Should Be

How Do You Handle a Hungry Man? Megan.

The Slogan Generator

Tuesday Man, take III

Alright, alright, I admit, I kinda just used that title to draw you in. Like a good advertisement would. Not that this can actually be considered TM take tres, but it got you to read, no? Of course, with my rabid following of 5 readers, I need not lure you in with tag lines and false promises, right?

So today I had an all day training class up at school...but it was for work. Try to wrap your head around THAT. Anywho, the training got done at 5:40 and I have class, again up at school, at 5:30. I was done. And considering I sound very much like Darth Vader right now due to allergies...oh wait, except for my nose which is dripping like a faucet. I mean for real...it's running. There's no stopping it. And really, who doesn't find *that* attractive??

ANYWAY, I did the rebel thing...I skipped class. And really without much of the Catholic guilt associated with it. There was a happy hour to go to, but I wasn't even going to go to that. I was tired and wanted to sleep.

So I got home and was talking on the phone when I got the following texts:

Tere (6:26pm): HH at Austin Avenue?

I am on the phone, so I am ignoring the text. Yeah...not going.

Tere (7:02pm): TM is here :-)

and yes, we all call him 'TM' now for Tuesday Man....still on the phone. Still not responding. I'm thinking "aaaaannnd?" Of course, this is the wheezing, drippy girl talking.

Tere (7:03pm): He just asked if you were here!

still on phone, but interest peaked...I'm a sucker for attention. Hey, admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery.

So after I finish my phone conversation I call Tere.

"really??? because you've lied to me before...is this just to get me out?"

She assures me this is not the case. She knew I had class and wasn't going to bother me. She says she has more to tell but can't talk.

So I do what any attention whore does. Throw on some jeans and a cute top and drive out to the bar at 8:00pm.

Now, if you remember, the last time I even talked to TM was the fateful night that I kinda threw out a booty call text and proceeded to get shit-faced, did 'ghost riding the whip' much to the non-amusement of TM, and just generally made an ass of myself...oh and got home at 6:00am...whoops. Chalk that up to a booty call done right.

Anywho...I hadn't talked to him since. But, as I normally do, I pretend everything is cool. And he is super nice. We played a round of darts, he's kinda flirty and I'm thinking 'why was it that I didn't like him?' (let's not mention it's writen in the annal here and I could look that up). He goes out to take a phone call and Tere informs me that he literally said 'Hi Tere' when he came in and then immediately asked if I was there/if I was coming. hmmmmm, alright.

So he comes back in and we're left to talk one on one. and then I remember. Yeah...conversation flows at a snails pace. We just don't have anything to talk about. His company is doing really well, he works ALL the time and we just can't seem to find a mental connection. So sad. Because he's so cute. A guy that cute should not be stuck with a computer nerds brain, it's simply not fair.

So then a tornado blew in, just like usual, and we both decide to leave. He leaves first, says his goodbyes and that's about it. We texted a bit on the way home, but nothing significant. Sigh...so that's that.

On my way home I was once again reminded that I am a complete magnet for animals in danger. I am crossing a bridge in the dark, while it's pouring rain and I see this white dog stuck on the bridge, frantically trying to jump the guardrail to the sidewalk. There is nowhere for it to go and it seems to have no concept of 'don't get hit by a car'. So I stop my car and put on the hazards. And do what any normal person would do. Get out of the car (while wearing dark jeans and a black top) and try to get the dog...while avoiding oncoming traffic. I'm obviously not THAT much of a magnet because the damn thing won't come to me and it pretty far behind me at this point. I see some other cars coming and try to wave my hands around. Finally they stop and from a distance I'm thinking someone is wrangling the dog. I make a u-turn and go check it out. Thankfully someone picked the dog up. Whew! Crisis avoided. But for reals...why do I gotta be the one that runs into the situations all the time? I could end up with 10 cats and dogs if I'm not careful!

see....a real post...and you only had to wait like an hour. But you enjoyed the pictures while you waited, no?

MORE pictures?!

Yes bitches...and you'll like it. Better posts are coming...promise....

I like this one because the FFA sign in between the train cars is in focus (dang it...you can't see it too well when the pic is this small...)

I love the lighting in this one

and for your viewing pleasure...me looking totally asleep at dinner...I'm narcoleptic, what can I say...

another walk...

...so apparently life has been boring...I have nothing to report besides pictures I took while procrastinating.

the 'pond' by my house

Sooo, I haven't quite figured out how to make things this close in focus. Ladybug...fuzzy, but boy does the middle school look sharp!

would *you* go down this path? I did...for like 1 minute until I had visions of chainsaw physchos and the Blair Witch. Then I turned around and ran out of there like a little girl. I'm so tough.

Gracie's photo shoot. She so darn cute.

Why it's scary to live in North Texas

Nothing like going to bed at 9:30 with a headache and waking up a little before 4 am to the sound of tornado sirens (still with aforementioned headache BTW).

Bolt out of bed

Turn on tv in living room (tv in bedroom still broken)

immediately see weather dude on tv...talks about tornado.

look outside...no rain?

look at tv...weather guy mentions my town

starts to pour

get animals in bathroom just in case tornado rips through house.

I sit on couch...mission control.

weather dude keeps saying 'squall line'...like really....like a million times.

"wind gusts up to 70 miles an hour"

"McKinney reporting 87 MPH wind"

dang it...where's my flashlight?

ooooo, I can light my candle from Walgreen's!

wait for power to go out at any minute....

sigh...this is the scary part about spring

OMG, weather dude just said "Gun Barrel City, you're really 'under the gun' right now!" Weatherguy humor...hil-a-ri-ous. "Honey, get the kids in the tornado shelter! oh wait...ha ha ha, the weather guy just made a funny! wait...is that the roof that just ripped off?" (and yes, there is a town called Gun Barrel City..awesome, no?)

Sorry guys, my humor is a little rusty at 4:28 am...

Well...the rain has stopped...the 'squall line' has passed. I'm going back to bed. Peace out.

THIS is why I am single.....

....loooong article, and of course if you're from Dallas it will be hilarious and hit close to home. For the rest of you...you can get a general picture of how the term $30,000 millionaire came to be and why me and my girlfriends are still single.

http://www.dallasobserver.com/2007-11-29/news/douchebags-in-the-mist/1

My favorite quote:
"Taking a cue from a favorite Sex and the City episode in which Miranda, the successful lawyer, pretends to be a flight attendant in order to get dates, I keep my story simple. I am new in town. My friends are supposed to meet me soon. Never been to college, and I'm studying to be a hairdresser. Isn't drinking fun? Look at my tiny shorts! Tee-hee! "

and here's the yet-to-be made movie's website (although it does have a short trailer):
http://www.30kmillionaires.com/

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go practice my 'vacant' look. I hear that attracts all the boys!

Random Sunday

Well, dontcha know that I have school stuff to do so I will blog instead. Nothing much to report about the last week...I had two tests, they actually went halfway decently (I think) so nothing exciting there. BB King was good last night...I forgot to tell you guys I didn't, in fact, get the front row tickets (long story) so I had general admission. Little did I know general admission just meant you were IN the club. Have you ever been to Billy Bob's?? Well, just so you know, it's 'the biggest honkey tonk in the world'!! So it's pretty big. Lots to do, video games, pool tables, bull riding (as in ACTUAL bull riding), a gift shop, bars, etc. etc. etc. So it's a huge place . Needless to say I was about two trillion kabillion miles from Mr. King. Sooooo, it wasn't the pinnacle of my life as I had hoped. But I did snap a few pics...blurry because I was in 12 freakin X digital zoom....I should have brought my binoculars!

Also, seeing as how the man is the ripe old age of 82, he's a bit slow. Don't get me wrong, his voice sounds magnificent, just as good as the CDs I have. He still plays Lucille like a champ. but there was a LOT of talking and storytelling in between songs. And seeing as how I was in the North Forty I couldn't hear him all that well...which left the momentum of the concert...slow. BUT I was still ecstatic to see him live and impressed at how good he still was.


On to other important news...today I needed to pick up some stuff from work. On my way back I decided to pick up a redbull at Walgreen's. I spent $70. Wow, the price of Redbull has gone up significantly! Oooooor, maybe it was all the other shit I bought. How is that possible?? $70?? Below is the booty I got.

Who doesn't need 'As seen on TV' stick it and click it lights? Who doesn't need two kinds of lip gloss AND chapstick? who doesn't need hooker pink nail polish for their toes (I'm moving away from black for spring). And the D magazine? Promised me 118 fun things to do in Dallas. As if I haven't lived here my whole life....what if there's something new and exciting I didn't know about??? Kathy Ireland candles? check. Random sharpies? check. And me finding out about Britney and Kevin's secret weekend? Imperative to me making it through the weekend. Oh, and the two new colors of liquid liner, gel pads for me feet and glade plug in oils...essential I tell you!

And another thing...how is it that I swept and 'mopped' my floors YESTERDAY and they look like this today??

Look...my floor just birthed a baby animal! Oh wait...if you look over tot he right there's another one...twins! For real...I give up.

Hope you had a great weekend!!

Chalk this up under...

....nice to get from your 7th (okay and maybe 8th and 9th) grade crush. I was obsessed y'all...particularly in 7th and 8th grade (and Heather, you better not dispute me on this! :P). It was unrequited 'love'...but in my defence, he did lead me on quite a bit. Made me think that he liked me. Made lots of late night calls to me. Shamelessly flirted back. But when it came to 'going out'? No dice. Of course, this was for the better...he was a few years older (but still in the same grade as me) and could freakin drive, had had sex and had facial hair in 7th grade. No lie. I always went for the bad boys back then...and in high school...and mostly in college...okay and for a little while after college...but I digress.


ANYWAY...he contacted me through MySpace not too long ago. He's moved to a small town between Texas and Louisiana, has a wife and two kids and is a Jr. High teacher. How apropos.



So he sent me an e-mail tonight and at the end of it said:



"Just to let you know I do apologize for the way you were treated by me. I Am Sorry"



Okay, let's do a collective 'awwwwww'. Really, it's no skin off my nose, especially after this long (OMG, 17 years since 7th grade, please hold while I go vomit) but it was nice to hear anyway.



I'll ignore the fact that he spelled my name 'Meagan'......

My Jr. High...just for kicks...the site of much teenage angst