Tag Archives: Underwear

This, that and some other thing.

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It’s been a while. I have written a few times but either haven’t felt like posting it or just don’t know how to finish what I’ve started… story of my life. In the meantime a few things have been happening and an update is more than in order.

For starters, it looks as if spring may actually appear… if you can rely on a few flowers poking through the dirt to determine that. Though Denver’s tricky weather fooled me again today — when will I learn that sunny in Denver will equal winter in Loveland? Note to self: BRING YOUR FREAKING COAT. I froze my buns off today.

On another note — Charles has taken over my hamper, which originally I assumed was to chew on my clothes and eat my underwear (who wouldn’t sign up for that?), but it appears that he likes to sleep in there or hang out or do whatever it is dogs do when we’re not looking — like take over the world. It was definitely a surprise to find him in there and then watch it topple over as he tried to drag himself out. Charles getting all snugly:

We’ve also had a bit of excitement with our drier. Now I know it’s hard to not get all riled up with just the mention of a drier, because we all know that driers are like sex. They’re something everyone secretly wants to talk about, but doesn’t because they don’t want to seem like the creeper that breathes heavily in the corner. So, now that I’ve put that out in the open, our drier is broken. We broke it and by we I mean it was Lindsey’s death blanket and my idiocy of actually putting it in the drier that finally sent it into revolt. See, Lindsey has this blanket. It’s chenille-y and rather comfortable. The color choices are questionable but it kept me warm for the past few months so I decided it deserved a wash. I washed it with another blanket and some snowboarding gear. This was not a good decision. After a trip through the spin cycle my other blanket, snowboarding pants, and snowboarding jacket were all covered, COVERED in pink fuzz. I “air-dried” the snowboarding gear and tossed the blankets in the drier assuming it would all, miraculously, find its way to the lint filter and we would be done with this shenanigan. Well, some of the fuzz made it to the lint filter, but the rest seems to have camped out all over the inner workings of our drier… meaning no drier for Megan… or Lindsey. But, that’s besides the point.

I hadn’t done laundry in 2 weeks. And I go through a lot of clothes in two weeks and the pickings were getting pretty slim. There are only so many times that I can re-wear the same jeans without everyone in my office wanting to pitch in and buy me a second pair… I spill a lot and the mustard stains are hard to pass off the next day.

On Monday I just couldn’t take it anymore,  I decided to wash ALL MY LAUNDRY with hopes that our drier would make a spectacular recovery and come through for me. Well it did not – despite my roommate and her boyfriend’s best attempt to vacuum out all the lint. So… being the creative one that I am, I decided that it would be a just wonderful to use my panties as decoration and hang them from the wall art, in the dining room, to dry. I’m thinking we could make it a permanent installation. My roommate’s sister was particularly impressed and left us with this little gem, “P.S. Megan’s underwear makes for nice decorations”. I couldn’t agree more.

Somehow this post became a lot about underwear and panties, whatever strikes your fancy. Go me.

An ode to my future ex-roommate.

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So… when I moved in with my current roommate (last summer) I figured only one of us would make it out alive. Clearly if it had come down to it I would have lived simply because I have a sick round-house kick that would kick her lame excuse of an upper cut’s ass. However, that is besides the point…

Everyone said “you two will never make it”, “I bet this only lasts a month”, “You’re going to hate each other”. Well to all of those lame naysayers its been a year and a half and truly we can barely go four hours without talking. Romantic, no? At a BBQ a few months ago people inquired “Are they lesbians?”… we’re that close. But, no, sadly we are not lesbians, but two single girls in this quest to have fun and avoid long term commitments with the opposite sex. So far so good on that front.

So Meghan, these are the things I like about you… oh and I tossed in a few I don’t just to spice it up.

1. I like that you go to the bathroom in my bathroom so we can continue a conversation… regardless of the business you have to do or how serious its about to get.

2. I like that we can wash our underwear together.

3. I like that you eat everything I make and at least pretend to like it. Especially when its so spicy we have heartburn and other digestive issues for days.

4. I don’t like that your perpetually late because you “HAD” to talk to someone for 2 hours before exiting Miramont. No one EVER needs to talk that long. Shut up already.

5. I like that I can shoot you with a Nerf gun and you like it.

6. I don’t like that you don’t know how to make my dog pee on command.

7. I like that you think all my jokes regarding “your mom” and bodily functions are hilarious and worthy of tears.

8. I like that we each drink a bottle of wine on Mondays and then hate ourselves for the next week — because we both get hangovers that last a week.

9. I like it that we can drink again the next Monday, but only after a $45 trip to Panda Express.

10. I don’t like that you had to go get a freaking job and ruin my ability to eat Chef Boyardee out of the can, AT HOME for lunch.

11. I like that you have midget feet. Because they are freakishly small and I can make fun of them.

12. I like that we took a Christmas card picture and sent out Christmas cards like we’re a real family. You, me, and Charles. I still can’t figure out why people thought we were lesbians.

13. I like that you convince me that wine and french fries will have the same effect as an hour of working out… its a wonder I’m not a stick by now.

14. I don’t like that you eat mushrooms… in front of me.

15. And finally, I like that there is NEVER a dull moment is the house of Megan and Meghan. Between goodwill hunts, permanently scaring the neighbors and convincing ourselves that we could win both “American Idol” and “So you think you can dance” simultaneously there is clearly not a spare moment for boredom or a lack of entertainment causing us to roll on the floor due to spasms.

So… now that we are officially in each others hypothetical weddings (which of course will never happen because that’s how we roll)… we say goodbye. And then plan to hang out Monday because 1 day apart is far too long. I mean who will I pee with?

M&M

M&M