Wait For It (said in Shawn Spencer-like manner)

A couple years ago my little sister kept pestering me about watching "Psych."  I told her that I did not have any more room in my schedule for new shows.  She then tried to convince me that if I would just give it a chance that I would love it.  She brought it up for at least a year and then a few months after Steve and I got married I finally watched it....and then thought it was hilarious.  It took me a month to get Steve to watch it.  And now two years later I find myself not making plans for Saturday evening so that I can watch Psych re-runs on Ion Television.

So, the thing I love about Psych is the references to 80s movies and shows.  Also the occasional music video (as seen here).  Why you ask?  Because I have seen more of these movies than Steve might be comfortable letting me admit. There was this episode where Shawn and Gus are on a military base and Shawn says "I feel just like Michael Dudikoff."  I could not stop laughing.  Steve didn't really laugh, so I said, "Steve, it's so funny because it's just like American Ninja.  Didn't you want that movie with me?  It's an 80s ninja movie that my dad recorded on VHS."  This was followed by, "No Megan.  I never watched that with you."  I was concerned about being judged by Steve, so I felt obligated to defend the fact that I knew who Michael Dudikoff was even though I think it might be just me and the cast of Psych.  This is actually a normal occurrence and I make a case for why I know the things I know during at least half of the episodes (Random side note: one of the bad guys in American Ninja is also the neighbor Mr. Ochmonek from the series ALF, which I still watch courtesy of Hulu).

Now why am I telling you about the 80s?  Because I loved this movie called "Legend" (with Tom Cruise in his younger buck teeth years) when I was a kid and used to always say, "This reminds me of Legend" when I watched something else.  And then my sisters would tell me that I always thought that everything looked or sounded like it was from the movie and that it really didn't.  BUT this week I was vindicated.  We went to Snow White and the Huntsman this weekend (I'm not going to lie, I was rooting a little bit for the evil queen).  There is this part where Snow White pets this white deer and then it gets shot JUST LIKE IN LEGEND.  NO JOKE.  So I leaned over to Steve and said, "That was just like Legend."  And Steve agreed.  YES!!!  He initially thought I was talking about I Am Legend and thought that I crazy until I set the record straight. A little disclaimer here, if you did not see the movie early on in your life you should probably not watch it now.  It will be a little weird.  I know this because I made Steve watch it with me (also on a VHS tape), but before he watched he asked me what it was about.  My response when something like this: "It's about these magic unicorns and these evil goblins chop off the horn so they can have power to rule the world."  About the time I said "unicorn" Steve's face looked a little like I should be glad that we were already married so that he couldn't change his mind.  He says he wasn't judging me, but we both know he was.

Limitless Ways to Get Embarrassed

So, I am well aware of how embarrassed I get in awkward situations, but so is Steve.  And, unlike a compassionate person, Steve chooses to find opportunities to make me feel ridiculous (Thereby justifying me singing Forever Young or something from Beyonce late at night when we should be sleeping.  It is only fair.) While at Wal-Mart the other day I was trying to decide on which blow dryer to buy.  I spent awhile staring at them even though I know nothing about which one would be best to buy.  I finally decided to give up, but not before Steve said, "Well, I better go put this back."  Then of course I assumed that it was something he needed and I told him to put it back in the cart.  Not so.  What was it you ask?  A do-rag. Yep, Steve put in the cart to see how long it would take me to realize it was there.  So while I turned red he laughed his butt off.

Unfortunately, that was not the most awkward thing to have happen this week.  Steve and I like watching Burn Notice (Probably too much because I have the whole beginning memorized.  And I sometimes just say it to Steve.)  Fiona (no surprise) is my favorite.  While talking to my doctor's secretary the other day I was trying to say MRI, but instead said IRA.  I tried to cover it up and then she asked me, "Are you okay?"  When I told Steve about it later he laughed and said that at least I didn't say "Fiona" when she asked for my name.

Drum roll please....

So, for those of you that haven't heard I got into the Master's of Social Work program here at UT at Austin (a.k.a. A&M's rival school).  After a little over 5 months I was finally off the wait-list and accepted.  I didn't tell people at first because I was worried that they would have accepted the wrong person and then tell me I really didn't get in, but now it's legit because I paid my fee and received my welcome packet.  To celebrate, Steve bought me these shorts.  So enjoy this picture of my pasty white legs (FYI, you don't get tan during the summer because it's too hot to be outside, so this is normal).  Also, I will finally attend a school whose color is my favorite.  In the words of Tenacious D, it was destiny.

The Longhorn mascot is really small on the bottom right of the shorts.

Megan's Arch Enemy

Megan's dreams/nightmares always entertain me. The only problem is that for some reason I am always the bad guy in them. The story usually follows a conglomerate of a dramatic scenario coupled with a dastardly villain that I inevitably end up aiding in his efforts to destroy Megan. The latest happened on Memorial day. Megan spent a while that day making a dessert she grew up eating and affectionately calls, "The Good Dessert". We had some friends over for dinner and dessert that day. The next morning Megan woke up frantic and distressed that "there was only one piece of dessert left". Apparently in the dream I invited over droves of people to eat all of her dessert and only left her one piece. It took quite a bit of assurance on my part to convince her that 3/4 of the dessert was still in the fridge. I almost went over to the fridge to pull out the dessert and bring it too her in bed to prove it. So there you have it people. In the deepest darkest abyss of Megan's mind her deepest fears coming to fruition: only having one piece of dessert left.

Here are some pics from a month or two ago when we went to the Texas A&M Vet School Open House which included a fistulated cow (hole in its stomach), petting zoo complete with kangaroo with a baby kangaroo in its pouch and a lama shaved like a poodle, creepy operating rooms for large animals that looked like something out of a horror movie, and much more.

Fistulated Cow. Pretty much a cow with a cork in its stomach and you can pull the cork and stick your hand in there (with gloves of course). 

Megan and some goats. They also had a llamas, kangaroo, a deer, and these weird ducks that looked like they had mohawks that you could pet.

This is not the greatest post in the world...This is just a tribute

Last night Steve and I were laughing about the things we got away with as kids, but our parents probably aren't aware of.  Sometimes parents catch you in the act and occasionally appear to in fact have two eyes in the back of their head.  But sometimes those eyes are legally blind.  Here are two stories to illustrate my point.

One day I got really angry at my mom.  I don't remember why, but I sure remember what I did.  I got into the coat closet by the staircase and stood straight up inside my dad's trench coat.  Because it was so long you couldn't see my legs.  The point was to make my mom worry enough to think she was a bad mom, but not long enough to warrant calling the cops.  So, I hear my mom asking my siblings where I was and then telling them to look.  One of my sisters opened the closet and said, "No, she's not in here."  I almost burst out laughing.  After a good 10 minutes or so when I could tell no one was nearby I slipped out of the closet and pretended like I had been there the whole time.

Growing up my parents would literally lock the TV up if we were watching too much or if we all got into trouble.  The entertainment center had two small handles that they slipped a chain through and put a padlock on.  But we were motivated to figure out to bypass this system.  At some point we realized that if we pulled the handles out there was enough give for me to slip my arm up and turn on the TV.  Eventually, we got tired of having to hold open the doors while watching through the small crack and we soon discovered that we could push the entertainment system away from the wall and flip the TV around as there was no back to it.  This maneuver required more time as it was heavy.  We would wait until my mom would leave and then listen for the car to pull up so we could quickly push it back into place against the wall.  To my knowledge she was not aware of it...until now.

And so to all you moms out there, Happy Mother's Day.

Dream Hunters

It's been awhile since I wrote anything.  I've been trying to get motivated to do a post for about 3 weeks and every time I sit down to do it I think, "Awww, screw it.  I'm going to watch Cupcake Wars."  True story.  That exact scenario has happened at least three times and the only reason it did not come to pass this week is because there were no new episodes of Cupcake Wars on Hulu as I have now seen them all.  And there's still another two days until Psych comes to Hulu.  Boo.  So here I am.

When I married Steve I knew he wasn't super into old movies.  And by "not super into" I mean not at all.  I really thought I could change Steve of his ways, but no such luck (you would think that if I was going to try and change Steve that I would choose something more worthwhile, but no).  More recently I've been getting Hitchcock movies from the library and Indiana Jones (Not an old movie, but Steve had never seen Raiders or the Temple of Doom all the way through.  I still can't believe we'd been married almost two years before I found that out).  Last weekend's feature was "Rear Window."  So I am sitting there reminiscing about how much I liked this movie way back when and Steve has to make one of his comments (that, FYI, make everyone but his wife laugh and I think you would all agree if you had to live with it 24/7).  It went something like this: "So, this movie is basically about Peeping Toms."  Thanks for killing a good childhood memory.

So, here's the thing.  I am a dream-killer.  I rain on people's ridiculous and far-fetched parades all the time (not to their faces, but in the privacy of my own home).  And this was no surprise to Steve when we got married because he had heard me do this long before we actually got married.  Plus, I had already informed him that I would probably kill our children's dreams (Let's just stop telling people to shoot for the moon when we all know they have no realistic shot).  But did you all know that Steve is a closet dream-killer? (I should be more specific.  It's my dreams he kills.)  Yes, it's hard to believe, but it is in fact true.  He doesn't do it on purpose, but that doesn't make it any less effective.  I keep telling him that there is only room for one dream-killer in this marriage and I already called dibs.  This did not keep him from almost ruining a perfectly good movie (even if we all know that what he said is true).

But the one dream he can't kill is being a chili cook-off champion two years in a row because it has already happened.

P.S. Steve was not offended by the publishing of this post.

Dancing with the Dead

The cake was made by two first year med students

Last Friday Steve and I attended the "Cadaver Ball" that was hosted by the medical school.  It was a magical evening where we danced with dead bodies dressed in prom dresses and tuxedos.  Psych.  That was not true.  But we really did go to the "Cadaver Ball."  It was a James Bond theme, so during my brief pit-stop in Utah on my way to North Carolina I picked up Steve's tux from the abyss known as his parents' basement (thankfully, they got it for me so I didn't have to actually sift through all of that stuff by myself).  I was originally going to dress up as James Bond's secretary (Miss Moneypenny), but as it turns out there was nothing distinctive about her clothing so no one would have know who I was.  Actually, as it turns out none of the James Bond ladies are distinct or have memorable dresses.  So, for the sake of saying we stuck with the theme, I am Vesper (which works out because Casino Royale is my favorite).

Steve trying to bring sexy back by wearing a tux

After we arrived I realized that Steve should have tried to dress up like a villain.  Think of how awesome it would have been if he wore an eye patch or carried around a stuffed white cat (the cat would have embarrassed me, but I would have been slightly supportive).  Or he could have worn a white suit coat or brought a gold spray painted water gun.  There was so much potential here and Steve dropped the ball on embarrassing me (which he is normally right on top of).

Steve selected our dinner seats right next to this lovely bar

Steve's favorite part of the evening (other than the nice free meal we got) was the candy bar.  You really should know that Steve is addicted to candy.  He puts my Corn Nut addiction to shame and that is saying something.  He filled up my bag about halfway and then filled up his ALL the way.  He ate almost all of it during Conference the last two days and I had to take it away because he was filling up on Hot Tamales and not real food.  They also had some fake casino games where you could trade in your chips for tickets and enter them in some drawings at the end, but of course Steve and I just couldn't make it to midnight so he tried to go waste all our "money" in Roulette (which he in not good at, he just broke even).  I wanted to play Poker because as it turns out I'm not too bad at it and I once made it through 5 or 6 rounds in a Texas Hold 'Em tournament at the "U."  Steve didn't really want to be supportive and sit by me while I played and I didn't want to sit by myself at a table full of men that I do not know.  So, as punishment, Steve will learn to play at  home with me so he can see that I was telling the truth.