Merry Merry Quite Contrary how does the story go?


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so, i just did the math.  and i’m behind on Project 2,010 Hugs.  again.

i was doing so well!  i was a freakin hugging machine for the month of february!  and in march, i didn’t do too bad.

but math doesn’t lie.  unless you do it incorrectly.  and since i was born from a freakin math teacher, i know that my calculations are correct to the 10th decimal point.  and that 10th decimal point says “you are behind by 133”.

crap.  crap on toast.  crap in a freaking boat.

so far behind! what am i going to do?!?!?!

well, don’t really crap in a boat.  unless it’s in the boat’s bathroom….that’s just rude if you took a crap on the boat.  and i don’t care if it’s called the “poopdeck”.

so here’s the deal, kiddos.  i need to get some pics of some freakin awesome hugs.  and i need your help.  i can’t just hug myself.  not only is that just sad and pathetic, but it also makes for a really boring hug album.  so if you see me, and you’re willing to take a hug pic, let me know.  because i need them.  desperately.

there.  that’s my plea.


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happy belated earth day everyone!

it’s a beautiful day outside.  yes indeedie.  makes ya just want to go out and tip-toe through the tulips.  and say “thanks, mother earth, for bein so rocktastic”.

and last weekend, i had a really fun, earth friendly adventure with my cousin, A Sizzle.  we went to the book store.

“but, meredith, how is going to the book store ‘earth friendly’?  books are made from trees, which are cut down…depleating our earth of her ‘lungs’?”  one might say.

well, one, first of all…way to be a buzz kill on books.  but more importantly, it was how i got to the book store that was earth friendly.  it was in a fully electric Zenn car!

*oooooo, aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh*

a Zero Emissions No Noise car.  they are super cute and tiny.

see? super cute! and no pollution!

unfortunately, i cannot call it my own.  it belongs to my dad.  but i did get to take it out for a spin about town.

which is fun, and interesting.  when i turned it on, i kept waiting to hear the engine catch.  but it doesn’t.  because it’s electric.  the engine, when you’re stopped, is dead silent.  when we were sitting at the stoplight, i was a little worried that the car had turned off.  but it hadn’t…it’s just quiet, like a thief in the night.

is it a speed demon?  hell no.  it’s top speed is 35 mph.  when you get to the max speed, you’re like “sweet!  we’re cruisin!  let’s kick this puppy into high gear!”.  then i put the pedal to the metal.  and realized that it was already there.  but whatever…people behind me can just get over it.

can you go on a long road trip in it?  only if you want to stop every 30 miles.  that’s how far the battery will take you.  but to refuel, alls you gotta do is plug that sucker in!  just pop it onto the curb (it’s curb legal) and ask a buddy for the use of their electricity.  then bust out the ole extension cord & charge away!

yep. it's literally an extention cord.

i really wish that i had one for myself.  not as my main car (i can’t go only 35mph forever…i need to haul ass sometimes when i’m running late), but as my “about town” car it would be perfection.  and i’d want it to be candy apple red.  so that i could look like the apple car from The Busy World of Richard Scarry.

although the smart cars really look more like pretend Zenn car could be its cousin or something

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my goal this year is to go see the horse races.  i’ve never been.  ever.  how could this be?  i’m not quite sure.

hurry up Anita Cocktail! move your bloomin ass!

i want to go to remington park (the oh-so-glamorous race track here in OKC), make outrageously cheap bets, wear a ridiculously large hat and drink V&Ts.


mostly, i just want to wear a ridiculously large hat. 

isn't it a beaut?

 and everyone that goes must have a ridiculously awesome Royalty name. 


for example:

  • Brimsy’s name is Sir Brimsy, Knight of the 2nd St Square Table, declarer of rocktastic Royal names
  • Lincoln’s name is Duke Lincsy of the NW Oklahoma Proper
  • My name is Duchess Mimsy of 2nd st, daughter of the House of Paper Replication (brimsy came up with mine, and i LOVE it)

so far, that’s the crew that has agreed to go with me.  and speak in snobbish, obnoxiously fake british accents whilst wearing large hats and sipping (or swigging) double V&Ts.

and then, in the middle of the race, we must all wildly cheer for our horse.  just like eliza doolittle

holy moly, where can i get a hat like that?!

who else wants to go?  if you need help coming up with a marvelous Royalty name, just let me know and Brimsy & i’ll come up with something spectacular for ya. 



then after that, i plan on throwing a delightful springtime picnic.  with big hats, of course.  did i mention that i’m currently obsessed with finding events to wear big hats to?  well, i am.



oh man, i can’t believe that i’m going to admit this.  it’s pretty embarrassing.  but if you can’t tell your blog, who can you tell? 

ok, here it goes. 

i love really cheesy, made-for-tv movies.  like the super cheesy, abc family, made-for-tv movies.  worse, is that i even dvr-ed one on sunday.  

but how can you not like them?  they have an exact formula that is perfect for single gals like me who are mostly cynical about “love” on the outside but are just big ole romantics underneath it all (i like to call myself a “practical romantic”).  and these movies just exaggerate all the love stories that you heard as a kid. 

here’s the formula: 

1)  the main character.  she’s sparkly and beautiful.  but there’s one flaw: she’s….dun dun duuuhhhhh….single 

oh, the horror!  single in a sea of couples!  how will she ever make it through life? 

2) enter in an impossible situation with a ridiculous solution 

in the movie i watched last night, she landed a cover story for Cosmo…even though she’d only been published once before.  but she’s got a Cosmo story.  now she just has to snag a job working in corporate america (that she is completely unqualified for) and “date a suit”.  easy breezy!

funky designer ensemble, check. because, you know, all single twenty-somethings with a low paying job have designer ensembles.

3) everything goes along swimmingly 

she’s pulling off her elaborate scheme to fit in someplace that she “doesn’t belong”, she gets the “man of her dreams” (who is smart, funny, kind, with well-defined abs) or something like that 

4) until *BAM!* something really crappy happens. 

normally this is something like she gets caught in a lie.  not because she’s a bad person, but because she just isn’t being true to herself.  or the “man of her dreams” turns out to be a jerk. 

5) life lesson time! 

she realizes that #4 only happened because she wasn’t being herself!  she shouldn’t pretend to be someone she isn’t!  so she comes clean, apologizes.  sometimes there are tears, but there is always a “best friend” that gives sage advice. 

see? she looks so sad...cue up the inner monologue about learning something.

6) forgiveness, acceptance, and the man of her dreams 

everyone makes up, the past mistakes are forgotten.  she and the real “man of her dreams” are united in some mad dash to right whatever colossal mistake she made.  normally, this “man of her dreams” turns out to be the trusty best guy buddy that was there in front of her the whole time!  how did she not see that he was perfect man for her THE WHOLE TIME?!? 

7) happily ever after 

and, ladies, this could happen to you too!  just be yourself & prince charming will be there!! 


yes, i am fully aware of how archaic this formula is.  i am.  and i am fully aware of how completely unrealistic it is.  i mean, c’mon…they always live in some big flashy apartment in NYC or San Fransisco.  really?  because from what i’ve heard, you can’t live in a penthouse apt on a struggling 20 something’s salary. 

yep, pretty sure that apartments like this in NYC are more than $400 a month.

 and they always wear super crazy, designer outfits.  because, you know, the rent on their ginormous NYC penthouse is so affordable that they’re able to quickly nip over to Barney’s and pick up a new pair of shoes. 

but even though i know it is stupid fluff, i still secretly love them.  well, not so secretly anymore.

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on april 19th, 1995, i was in science class.  we heard a loud rumble…too loud for distant thunder.  our teacher went outside to the dining hall, he thought they’d had some sort of explosion in the kitchen.


a few minutes later, he told the class what really happened.


on april 19th, 1995 at 9:02 am, the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building was bombed.

168 people lost their lives, including 19 children.  over 800 people were injured.

the Murrah Building Bombing Memorial

my thoughts go out to those who lost their lives and lost loved ones.

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oh rainy, gray days.  they always make me wish that i was somewhere sunny.  especially somewhere that has sparkling blue water and white sandy beaches.  specifically, belize. 


how i love belize.  it was my favorite vacation ever.  Virgin Gorda in BVI was a close second, but belize stole my heart when i stepped off of the plane.


 a perfect combination of rainforest beauty (The lodge at Chaa Creek) and beachy relaxation (Victoria House Resort). 

if only i could be sitting right there, in the chair on the right.

great cultural site-seeing, with the mayan ruins of Tikal and canoeing through caves. 

the view from temple IV, taken by yours truly. i climbed a billion tiny stairs to get this picture. totally worth it


we bravely traveled the "xibalba" (the mayan underground) in canoes.

sun, beach, ocean, and tons of family fun.

chillin on the catamaran after my brush with the barracuda

snorkeling in clear blue water.  we saw 2 barracudas.  i freaked out because i forgot to take off my gold bangle.  i swear, there was a moment where the barracuda looked at me like i was a glittery, tasty snack.  i mentally said “please, don’t take a bite out of me.”  it didn’t.  thank goodness.  that would’ve put a damper on the vaca.


and right now i wish i could teleport myself and all of the people that i love there.  for a week of fun and chillaxin.

maybe if i close my eyes and click my black, pointy-toed flats (i left my ruby red slippers at home) three times, i’ll be there…

*eyes squeezed shut* 

there’s no place like belize.  there’s no place like belize.  there’s no place like belize.

*peek the left eye open*

nope.  still here in OKC.  bummer, i totally thought it would work.



the best thing about spring is that it’s finally warm enough to sit outside on the porch.  i am a huge fan of hanging out on great porches.  especially KK’s.  her porch is possibly one of the best porches in the world.


we try to gather over at KK’s at least once a week (well, i’m there way more than that.  it’s my 2nd home).  we eat dinner, have a few drinks, and talk about what’s going on in our lives.  it’s a nice weekly ritual that help keeps me sane.


last night, we decided to mix it up a little bit and play farkle.  which was very brave of them to play a game with me.  why?  oh, my friend, for many many reasons.  first, i cheat.  i do.  i will be open and honest about that fact with you.  if i see a way to cheat, i will.  and i’m sneaky about it too.  just a word to the wise, don’t ever play monopoly with me.  if you do, never ever EVER let me be the banker.  i will steal $20s and $100s all day long.  secondly, i am a horrible loser.  if i’m not winning, i’m pissed and instantly decide that i hate the game.  thirdly, i am a horrible winner.  i will rub your face in the fact that i won and you lost.  i will gloat.  and finally, i talk shit the whole time we’re playing.  so there you have it.  i am an extremely competitive, cheating jackass with poor sportsmanship.  but they decided to take the chance.

if you haven’t ever played farkle, you should.  it’s a super fun dice game.  here’s how you play.  i even have snazzy pictures that demonstrate it.  you will need:  6 dice, a flat surface, paper (for keeping score), and a writing utensil (so you can write down the score).

1)  do your lucky ritual

good luck

2)  shake them dice up!

Shake Shake Shake

3)  roll them dice out!

let's see what we got here

  • After each throw, one or more scoring dice must be set aside (see sections on scoring below).
  • The player may then either end their turn and bank the score accumulated so far, or continue to throw the remaining dice.
  • If the player has scored all six dice, they have “hot dice” and may continue their turn with a new throw of all six dice, adding to the score they have already accumulated.
  • 4)  count it out and add ’em up!

    to get “on the board”, you must have at least 500.  here’s the rest of the scoring.

    Dice Combination Score
    Each 1 100
    Each 5 50
    Three 1s 1000
    Three 2s 200
    Three 3s 300
    Three 4s 400
    Three 5s 500
    Three 6s 600
  • Three pair (e.g., 1-1-4-4-6-6) is scored as 1500.
  • A straight (1-2-3-4-5-6) is also scored as 1500.
  • dammit! FARKLENUTS!

     but if you don’t roll anything that counts, you Farkle.  which means you lose all of the points that you’ve accumulated during your turn.


    when you farkle, i like to call it farklenuts.  it’s a ridiculously fun word to say.  and it sounds really gross.  give it a whirl…see?  ridiculously fun.


    my mom would be so proud.  i wasn’t that bad of a sport.  and i only cheated once (they didn’t catch me and i felt kinda guilty, so that’s why i’m coming clean).

    Gordy was the big winner.  KK came in 2nd.  and me?  well…i won in my mind.  just not in reality.