Tag Archives: time-taker-upers

Sarcastic. I’m Not.


Yesterday was Easter. The day us Christians celebrate the day that our Lord and Savior rose from the day. It’s a good day. It’s also a day my family gets together and hangs out. The family was hanging out at our house. So Saturday, my mom and I are cleaning. Mom was cleaning the bathroom and I walk by, she hands me a Reader’s Digest and says, read the article that’s marked, you’ll appreciate. It’s written like you. I instantly roll my eyes but I sit down and start to read this article. It’s a story about this guy with a really hot wife. He’s kind of sarcastic. So I finish up and I hand the Reader’s Digest to my mom and I say. “I don’t have a wife and I never will and I’m not that sarcastic.” Mom looks at me from scrubbing the tub. “Yes you are.”

Yesterday, at supper, I was telling the story about the last time I got pulled over with the headlight after work to my aunt. So I’m telling this story and I bring up this article and I still insist I am not sarcastic. Everyone looks at me and says mmmmmhmmm. I am not sarcastic. I’m not. Well, maybe I have a line or two. But I’m not fluent in it.

Also this weekend, before church yesterday, my friend-ish acquaintance, J came up behind me and gave me a hug. Now J is the other brother to 2 of my guy friends from high school. We also had some college classes together. It’s not that I don’t like J, it’s just I have a different relationship than I did with his brothers. So he gives me a hug and we start talking and my high school Sunday school teacher came up and we started talking about marriage and divorce. None of us have ever been married, so entertaining conversation, to be sure. The Sunday school teacher has a solution for divorce. You invite everyone that you did to your wedding to your divorce, you stand where you said your vows and you both state your cases on why you want a divorce. At the end, everyone gets a vote and the person that gets the least amount of votes, gets killed because in most vows, it’s until death do us part. So if you didn’t get the hint before, J and I will never be together. It doesn’t make sense, it would never work. So after this explanation of the divorce proceedings, J looks at me and says, “this is why we’d never be together. People like you more than me.” and he walks away. I call after him: “Good for me, bad for you”. On paper that sounds bad, but it really wasn’t. It was clever banter.

I also got a call this weekend from the museum’s security company. I’m still on the call list for the museum’s security stuff. I don’t want to be. So I called the museum this morning and the new manager picks up and I was all like “Hey, it’s Megan, I got a call from the security company this weekend, can I get off that list?” “Yeah, we’ll take care of that. Bye.” and she hangs up. It was totally awkward. I wish the part-timer picked up, she likes me. I don’t want this to be awkward, I want this to be okay. With the way this conversation went, she either doesn’t like me or things are awkward or she was in the middle of something. I want it to be the last thing there.

MJ and I are still writing, we had a writing session last night. It was epic. I did have an awkward moment last night where something came out super dirty and I couldn’t fix it. So I stopped. It was actually about sex and one of our characters. If this character were real and we were married, I would have sex with this character. And as awkward as that last statement was, the comment last night was even more awkward. It was bad and then I try to fix it and I was like, let’s forget that happened. MJ said, Kind of hard, that was kind of a big deal. Well, at least I can be awkward with her and it’s somewhat okay.


One Time I was Mexican?


Last night, I had a dream. Not a dream that is any way, shape or form useful to everyday life. But it was a dream.

In my dream, I was Mexican. I’m a blonde haired, very white girl of German from Russian descent so let the fact that in my dream, I was Mexican sit for a second. I find it amusing that I was Mexican. Why Mexican of all nationalities? I have more about this later. Point of this is that I was Mexican. Maybe I’m Mexican at heart? Maybe I just wish I was Mexican. And I wasn’t just Hispanic, I was Mexican. I’m a million percent sure I was Mexican.

So I was in a modern revolution in Mexico. I know it wasn’t any recent revolution in Mexico because everyone was dressed in modern clothes. But I also don’t know that there isn’t a revolution somewhere in Mexico right now. I’m not up to date on revolutions in the world. I do know that Russia took/adopted part of the Ukraine. Why is it ‘the’ Ukraine? And when I say revolution, I mean the violent revolution not the literary revolution or any other kind of revolution. So let’s recap. In the dream, I’m a Mexican revolutionary….revolutionist….revolutionary person?

So okay. I don’t know how this happened but I was being executed, old revolution style. Like I was being put up against a wall and being shot. I wasn’t tortured, I didn’t have a trial, I was just going to be shot with a large group of people. My back was to the shooters and I was soothing someone (or at least I think I was soothing someone. There were kind words directed at someone.) and I knew that there were shots being fired and I fell to the ground. I wasn’t in pain and so I was thinking “maybe I didn’t get shot. Maybe I’ll open my eyes” I tried opening my eyes. Nope, didn’t happen. When I realize that I couldn’t open my eyes, I started praying and there was a bright light and then I opened my eyes in reality. So I died in my dream. So by the end of the dream I was a dead Mexican revolutionist.

Why was I Mexican? Why was I in a Mexican revolution? What was I fighting for? It must have been something worth dying for. Since I died, does that make me a bad revolutionist or does that mean I did my job for the revolution by dying? Maybe that could be answered if I knew what I was fighting for. Maybe I was fighting for the right to….die? The right to be who I wanted to be? Maybe I should research Mexican politics and if there’s any upheaval right now. That would probably answer more questions. The thing is, I don’t feel any need to go to Mexico or any countries in that area. I’m okay with being in the States right now.

That was dream. Go analyze or do whatever you do with that information.

Thank God for Brothers


Like an hour ago, I took a shower. Not a big deal. I’ve been taking showers for quite a few years all ready. And by myself. So I get out of the shower and I turn the water off. Or at least I try to. So here I am in a towel with no seeing utensils like my glasses trying to figure out how to turn off the water. If you remember last fall or spring… it was last year sometime, I had an issue where I am fixing my towel holder in a towel. I have a feeling that this, fixing things in the bathroom in a towel, will be a trend in my life forever. So anyway. This was an excellent time to remember that I never learned where to shut off the water in my parents’ home and both my parents are out of town today. So I call my mother, I call my father, I call my brother’s house and I finally call my sister-in-law’s cell. My brother picks up and until I started talking to him, I remember he’s out of town too with my sister-in-law. So I go “ummm, the shower won’t stop.” “What do you mean the shower won’t stop?” “Well the faucet…it’s like puking water and I can’t stop it and I don’t know what to do.” And I know my brother is on the other end of the line face palming it because who says that the faucet is puking water, that’s the job of a faucet is to puke water.

Now remember I’m still in my towel without a seeing utensil. This doesn’t change throughout the story. So my brother tells me where to go downstairs to fix this. And the directions he says is go in the bathroom downstairs look up and there’s like a light switch thing. He knows me well enough to know that is how you direct me. That doesn’t work. Then he tells me there’s a pump thing in the corner under the stairs and theirs a silvery grey cord thing coming out, follow that and turn it off. That makes sense so we get that taken care of and we hang up. Again, my brother knows how to explain things to me in my language. I’m putting on clothes and my mother calls. Way to time that parents. It’s their problem now. I think. Hopefully.

This weekend, other than getting another year older, my foot got ran over by a wheelchair with the person in it. It turned black and blue. This happened on Saturday night and I got home and took my sock off and it was all ready black and blue. Sunday I put my boot on and I grunted and I told my mother what happened and she yelled at me for wearing boots. I’m really counting Saturday and Sunday as my birthday because Saturday was kind of a bust so I was going to wear my boots to church if I wanted to or if my mother did not. So last night when I got off of work, I had my mother, the nurse, look at my foot. First she pointed out it was bruised. Well, thank you mother, I knew that. Then she brought it up closer and poked around my bruise for signs of swelling. Each poke I told her it didn’t hurt and finally she looked up and says, that’s not what I’m poking for. I told her my theory was to tell her any immense pain I had because that helps the healing process.

As some of you know, MJ is one of my best friends. She’s a Special Ed teacher on the other side of the state. When she talks about her profession she writes or says SPED. She was talking about it in an email yesterday and I replied with: Every time I see SPED I think of Speed and then I think of drugs. Remember, hugs, not drugs. Pretty sure that wasn’t what she was expecting from me.

Yesterday was my first college roommate’s birthday so I went and celebrated that. I knew 5 of the 7 people there so I wasn’t totally awkward. There were pictures. It was a good time. End of story. I think. If it isn’t, I’ll talk about it later.

That’s my life as of right now.

Sadness and then Story Time


So today was emotionally draining. Last day at the museum. My baby of three years. People are saying good-bye and there’s been tears, an upcoming moody point in my life, and a call to my mommy. I also got a call from the state tourism board asking me to be on a panel about getting people in your museum in April, at the state conference. Booo me leaving. I really want to be on that panel and I won’t be here. I will still know everything, I can do it without be employed by the museum right? I asked mom today if this was the right decision, if leaving was the correct thing to do. Every other day, I have known that I need to do this. Today, saying goodbye to people and having this opportunity to be on this panel, I wonder if it’s the right thing. Mom just said that this is the right thing. No matter how involved with the museum I am (which has been quite a bit in the last 3 years), this is right.

So let’s talk about something lighter so I can get myself out of this funk. My car, Rhonda, is getting fixed. Rhonda got ran into by the city’s snow plow and it’s finally getting fixed. That does mean that I am on foot. But I lucked out and I have people that can drive me. I am also going out with R and her son tonight for pizza and then have a movie marathon and read and do a little drinking. Not alcoholic amount of drinking just a little to finish off what I have. I also went to “Frozen” the other night. Totally worth going to. Even as an adult. And I totally had a running commentary in my head just like I always do.

Now Story Time as Promised by the title.

I spent 2 of my 3 1/2 summers in Medora in the Ice Cream Shops. And one of the shops also had the bakery a part of it. That shop opened up early so I was up and at work at like 6:30 in the morning and being that this was a tourist town and employees like to party. There was something going on the night before so I didn’t get to sleep until 1:30 in the morning. I was tired that morning when I opened up the bakery. We had an employee bathroom and if you didn’t turn on the light/fan and let the door open a crack, you could hear people come in. So there I am with hair a little disheveled, wearing my glasses, half asleep on the toilet. I reached over and put my hand on top of the toilet paper roll on the thing and then all of a sudden it crashes down and the toilet paper goes rolling out the door. The holder had fallen off in my hand, without me pushing and I had no idea how this happened. The couple that ran the shops are like my summer parents and the guy came in at like 11 and I ducked in the bathroom grabbed the holder and said “I broke it”. The guy kind of looked at me for a while and just started to laugh, like this was just another one of my antics and that it one of the random things I pulled off when I was there.

So remember the roommate I had my senior year of college? Well I had a roommate my senior year of college and she kept life fun. I’m pretty sure that I told the story about finals week where she went out drinking the night before her 8 a.m. final and brought home a guy and I almost caught a sight at his manhood. Not fun. But she also made our bathtub pink. After I cleaned it that day. PINK! It was October and a bunch of students painted themselves pink and white for breast cancer awareness and then she got drunk and she liked to lay in the tub and fall asleep in the tub when she got drunk. I had to pee at one time at the night but I dealt. The next morning I got up and didn’t put my glasses on and stumbled into the bathroom. I extra stumbled over her shoes and then my eyes were open to the pink tub. I was not pleased and not going to clean that up. Nope I didn’t. The adventures of living with roommates. Sigh.

Well, that’s all I really wanted to say today. Have a good and safe New Years.

Another Journey Through My Head to Get You Lost.


So I don’t know what it is about me but I think I throw people off, in all sorts of ways. One night I get asked what grade I’m in then the next day I get asked how long I’ve been married. All this without talking to me. Then I have people obsessed with my hair. Yes, I get that my hair is long and is a natural color most people would love to have. But getting the question if this is my natural hair is getting old. This whole thing is getting old. And then there’s the people who don’t catch on when I’m joking. My sarcasm is truly lost on these people. I don’t know how people don’t pick up on my sarcasm, I make it obvious. People just don’t get me. To me, I’m average looking 25-year-old, with average hair and obvious sarcasm.


This isn’t a great picture but 5th grade band. I sure hope I look older than that now. 10 cool points if you can figure out which one is me from that picture. I’ll give you a hint, it involves bangs. What was I thinking that bangs were a good idea. Can I just claim insanity. That just isn’t a good picture period. For anyone. I have to admit that I have never been good at trends. I have never been trendy. I am horrible. I can dress myself in things don’t look horrible. This is how I explain my bangs. And to explain why it’s black and white, it’s because it came from a year book and we weren’t doing our yearbook in color at that time. We do have color photos in North Dakota.

I got that picture from Facebook and one of the girls commented that her mom bought her shoes 3 sizes to big so she could grow into them and she still wears them to this day. I kind of miss the randomness that high school brought. Screw that, I just want no responsibility. I’m no good at it. I’m good at getting nothing accomplished with my life. That’s what I’m good at. I’m also really good at procrastinating. I have to speak in church on Sunday on what I’m doing with my life and I haven’t thought of what I’m going to say. If I don’t do something soon, I’ll get up there and make an inappropriate joke about male genitalia. I could totally see that happening. But we’ll see if I can prevent that. Let’s hope so.

I have this lady that her and her husband had Gelbvieh cattle just like my parents and my parents went and saw how they ran things when they started getting into the breed. Her husband got cancer and while he was in treatments, I was being born so it was nice that we’ve come full circle, us meeting when I was 23 and the being born thing. Today she was in the museum and she has a dog and she was talking about taking her dog out, she loves her dog and talks about him all the time, and she says he doesn’t like the cold and she says “well I’m not going to warm up the whole damn country for him”. I’m going to miss her. I’ve been realizing how much I’m going to miss here but also what I won’t miss here as well. This whole thing is kind of bittersweet. But I am ready to leave. I need to leave.

The parts for my bumper are in! I’m so excited! Except with how long it takes to put on and with Christmas next week, I’ll still be driving with a broken bumper for another week. Ugh. But Yay. So many conflicting feelings. I don’t know which one to choose.

Mermaids Reappear


I’m at a point right now where I just can’t seem to finish a post. That’s why you haven’t seen much of me lately. I just can’t focus and bust out anything that’s good. I’ve been too busy to do anything exciting and there’s just not the brain power to do anything. Yesterday I went in the library to get an audio book and the I was having trouble finding a book that had the power for me to use very little brain power and the librarian said I was being whiny. I am not whiny. I just inform people of the things that are wrong in my life. There’s a difference. And I’m tired so leave me alone. I’ll get more to post about when I go overseas and start living a more exciting life. Trust me, lots of awkward moments I can get into with a language barrier and cowboy boots.

So today I started writing things down that are in my head for the museum and I never realized how much I knew. I have one page front and back full and the start of another one and that’s just the beginning of it. There’s no stop to the knowledge I have. And honestly, I didn’t get any of the information I put down when I started here. This is me being nice even though I don’t want to be. I really just want to not leave anything and let the new person figure it out like I had to. But that would be horrible of me. Right? Do I have the justification of not leaving anything? This is a moral question that I just don’t want to deal with and let someone else not in this situation decide. One of the board stopped by today to kind of figure out all what I know and she was here for about a half hour and I really overwhelmed her. That’s what happens when you’ve been here 3 years with little help. You get to smart.

When I first started here, some of the volunteers would joke that the museum has a ghost. The buzzer went off for no reason, heard things randomly, things like that would happen. I dismissed it. The building’s not that old and no way we’re haunted. Now, I totally get it. Everything they said has happened. I have had merchandise that is secure on the top shelf of a book case on the floor 6 feet away from where it should be and today, when I was totally alone in the museum and sitting up front at the desk writing, one of the pictures fell of a very secure place on the wall and broke the frame. There’s a bunch of pictures sitting on this ledge and none of them have ever fallen before and it was just one picture. On a normal basis, this picture (that was in the middle) would have taken down all the rest of the pictures. This museum has something going on. Trust me.

I also forgot to mention last post that the night R and I were drinking while using sharp tools to curate millions of years old fossils, she was telling us about her broken toilet. It runs and runs and runs. So being the toilet experts we are, Y and I told her how to fix it. And then we all huddled around a toilet or two to show her how to fix her toilet. Now here’s the thing. I went to the bathroom this morning and then went back to bed. My toilet started to run and I was too tired to realize it was my toilet and I just thought it was one of the guys upstairs taking a shower. Nope, my toilet. Not that exciting right? Well, welcome to my life. It centers around the museum and toilets.

Remember when I went on a mermaid spree a few months ago? Right, it was epic. Well that documentary was on last night again. It got me thinking about mermaids again. And don’t mess with me, mermaids could possibly exist. We don’t know, we haven’t explored everything under water. Here’s my question. What is the life span of a mermaid. R says that it’s 43.89 years because you don’t see an old, ugly, wrinkly mermaid. I asked her how many mermaids she had seen and she has seen a few. She’s older. I’m going to believe her. She then counter my questions with the question of are the baby mermaids shark bait. They have to be. No way that they couldn’t be. Sharks (with the exception of Bruce from ‘Finding Nemo’ and only because he never knew his father) aren’t friends with anyone. They eat. Hence my thought process. And since we’re talking about it, ‘The Little Mermaid’ has been on t.v. and I’ve been noticing it. Mermaids are taking over the world? Quite possibly.

I haven’t talked about this much but R and I will talk about random conspiracy theories. She thinks that Elvis is really in South Dakota on the Reservation. We, collectively, think that Big Foot is a little creepy and we don’t want to deal with him, the Loch Ness Monster is cool and we want to find him and I totally am into mermaids. R asked a guy friend of hers what he thought of the whole mermaid thing and he didn’t say that they did exist but also didn’t say they didn’t exist. He said it was possible. I’m totally taking that as he’s on my side and he is a very smart man.

Well, I totally wasn’t expecting to talk about mermaids again today but they’re stalking me. When I live in a land locked state. That doesn’t get much annual rainfall. I don’t know how they’re doing it but this is totally happening and the mermaids want me to know something. Let me tell you what mermaids. I don’t speak mermaid. I speak human. Am I obsessed…..as sad as this is, yes. I need a new hobby or a new obsession. Something that doesn’t involve creatures whose existence isn’t quite proven yet. One day this will happen. One day. Maybe after I move, the mermaids will leave me alone.

Quick Post


Let’s talk about holidays shall we? I have a problem with how Christmas takes like 2 months out of life. Whomever got the smart idea to put Thanksgiving at the end of November for the U.S. and then think it was a good idea to totally rock out Christmas decorations at Halloween is insane. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some Christmas. But I feel like Thanksgiving is totally looked over. Let’s bring Thanksgiving back and make it a contender. Maybe Canada had this right to put Thanksgiving in October. Speaking about Canada, did I ever mention I kind of, sort of, not really dated a hockey player from Canada when I was in high school? Don’t worry, he was in high school too. It didn’t end well and that was mainly (but not completely) my fault. I wish it had ended better but I can’t turn back time and change how I reacted to certain things. But on to another subject.

I made an impromptu trip back home this weekend. First off, I got amazing sleep there. I knew I wasn’t sleeping the best lately but I didn’t realize how bad it was. I slept like half the time I was home, pretty sure. Second, got to see the niece and the nephew. No one told them I was coming home and my brother and sister-in-law are building a house on the property and they stopped over there on Saturday Morning before dropping the kids off for the day so the kids are in the pickup alone and my sister-in-law gets back in and they shout “Megan’s here” then the kids told her how much they don’t like me leaving. I love those kids. And my niece has picked up this thing where she is telling a story and then says “think about it”. We think she gets that from my dad because that’s what he says when he gets frustrated with us about something. I hated that phrase growing up.

The best times to get me to agree to do something is to approach me while busy or mostly asleep. Remember that. So I’m a member of Lions International. I got a phone call today from another member asking me to do something at 6 in the morning on Saturday and I agreed because I was in the middle of something. What was I thinking?

I know that this isn’t long but I really have nothing. There wasn’t any random driving stories. No killing of birds, random deer, nothing. Very uneventful. Just letting everyone know I’m alive. Not dead. Alive.