Dandruff: The Silent Social Killer

i can count the number of friends i have on one hand. its not too tough a situation and it makes christmas shopping a breeze. i've had my theories on why i have a limited number of friends, and mostly i blame my social anxiety disorder, which i believe in fact roots from my moms moms mom (my great-grandmother, rip). lately though i've been exploring other options, and if you take away the fact that i'm a hypocrite, a drunk, a liar, and a sarcastic jerk i'm left with one thing: dandruff.

i used to treat my dandruff with a two in one shampoo i'm sure most are familiar with, head and shoulders. but i stopped because who am i trying to impress? you see how this could end up a vicious cycle, which i think it has..do i have to feel the repercussions of my rapidly maturing scalp skin cells? a normal persons don't mature until a full month, while mine are maturing in 2-5 days in most cases. and i wear black without the blue dammit. and i'm thinking that my dandruff probably could go under the radar except i don't like the idea of the dead skin just sitting on my scalp so in the middle of class i'll scratch my head real fast. and the dandruff flies. and maybe i'd care, or even be embarrassed, except i don't know these people, so who cares what they think? so suddenly i'm wondering if i fill out a personal ad do i include the dandruff, or do i try and hide it and eventually cure it before my new friend ever realizes. its a toss up. because i mean what if i have some crazy strand of dandruff that is resistant to treatments. and when i go to the doctor and they ask - is dandruff a pre-existing medical condition? dandruff could be the unsung social-life killer.

anyway in my dandruff research i found this very interesting web-site listing celebrities with dandruff. and while it might be nice to be in the company of johnny depp, john lennon, elvis, and (ew) tyra banks (which i don't even believe because i bet she wears a wig, and hell if her wig has dandruff that's just foul), it is even NICER to be in the company of .::drum roll please::. MISS FRANCE 1999! woo hooo. so screw it, the verdict: sensitive scalp seeks stable single.

Feed The Children, Save Yourself

my sister tells me about this girl at her job, let us call her misty. misty is severely obese. now as someone who isn't obese at all i'm just going out on a limb here to say one would think it was in the best interest of a fat person to try and eat less to try and prevent the health risks associated with obesity. not to mention it's just plain disgusting being incredibly fat and it suggests character flaws like laziness and a lack of self-control. but no fat people don't care, they just accept their fatness for what it is. you've seen that t-shirt "i'm in shape, round is a shape".

but back to misty. my sister works at a day care and all the children are assigned cubbies where they can keep their coats, backpacks, and most importantly for the purposes of this story, their lunches. a decent human being, except in the case of dire starvation, would probably consider stealing snacks from the lunches of children to be cruel. not misty. she gets famished, or even remotely hungry and no food is safe from her scarfing it down. the oreos promised to a 3 year old are devoured by a woman who could probably live off the fat from her ass alone for a whole month.

what is wrong with fat people? and i hate when people relate overeating to smoking cigarettes and drinking in excess and shit. its not the same at all. fat people have a poor self image and are mean because they're so miserable with themselves.

yeah i was picked on by a fat kid in junior high. so what.

The Heart Not On My Sleeve

last night before i fell asleep i was thinking about my heart, not the one that belongs to an ex-lover, but the tangible one that's sitting in my chest cavity, beating, and working to sustain my life. i have no control over this, it is completely involuntary (although i've read people can meditate and slow their heart rate down to like two beats per minute - i'm not one of those buddhist monks though, and dear reader i doubt you are either) and even though i've known this for quite sometime i was surprised because life is really very voluntary, especially for those with access to a gun, a piece of rope, a plastic bag, a train, a knife, a plethora of pills, a car and garage, or a tall building with roof access. and while the ease of suicide is depressing - paired with the fact we can so easily slip into a bout of sadness with lingering suicidal thoughts, the fact of the matter becoming even more depressing - i found myself rather optimistic about life because lying in my bed, alone for the first time in nights, i knew that tomorrow i'd wake up and go out there and my heart would already be beating for me!

My New Haircut

well, i've been meaning to blog about my haircut for a while now. of course people get haircuts, it's nothing new or special, and i'm not at all trying to impress you with proof i do keep up with my grooming. rather, i've done the unthinkable and cut all my hair off and dyed it blond. it's been less than two months, but i feel as if this could be 3 separate blog entries. but it wont be because that would bore most i believe. i want to first introduce you to my hair prior to the cut: it was brown, long and curly and i almost never brushed it. people compared it to jesus and real (as in a real chance of love, for those who know it). but today my hair is about two inches short at its longest point and its dyed blond. the type of blond that works in no way to conceal the fact you got it dyed. i'm happy with it though. because its easy. and simple.

now one can't undergo such a dramatic change without getting peoples opinions thrust upon them. and i'm okay with that. and i happen to find humor in it. the way people word things. somethings i've heard:

"don't worry it will grow back"
"oh it really doesn't look that bad"

i wasn't worried.

the next thing is the question of why i did this, or what "made" me do this. as if i couldn't just of wanted to do it. so, what caused me to change my hair like this after rocking the same style for years? i tell people my sister and my friend told me to. which is a half truth because i also decided to do it because that day i was thinking i needed a haircut, and my friend a couple hours later noted the same thing. and well i believe in signs so i saw no reason not to give in to their request. and people seem content with that answer, but i can't help but think after hearing it for the twenty-something time that what they really want me to say is that i had the balls to do it, and i really didn't care what people were gonna think. it's almost like they know when it comes down to it that's what gave me the ability to grant my hair such an astonishing change of style.

and the last thing, and this is cute, is that i thought this hair would make me look older. i'm 20, but look about 15. in fact someone working at the movie theater once looked at me and said "wait, you're over 11 right?" but the other day at work a customer had her daughter with her. and the daughter is probably 7 or 8 and shes staring at me and finally looks at her mom and says "isn't she a little young to be working here?"

i almost died, but i felt youthful.

Cha-Cha-Cha-Chances!

my pal brittney is driving my Hyundai Elantra down Smithtown Ave. i put immense trust in my friends while they're in the drivers seat, and yesterday was no different. i have my head down because i'm trying to pick the next song on my iPod. i hear brittney say "we're going to make this light" and everything about her face read confidence. with that i immediately raise my head. i wanna know the situation i'm about to be immersed in. and with that i see that we're at least a mile from the light, and i didn't even see it turn green. it was stale. staler than cigarettes purchased online from some offshore neighboring country. i held my breath as i felt her accelerate towards the light. i felt it turning yellow. any second now. i felt the disappointment. but as we made the left onto Church St. it was clear we had indeed made the light. weird.

as we continued on Church St. i acknowledged the rarity of making that light, and how strangely long it was green for. waiting for us almost. i even let brittney know i thought she jinxed us by stating we were going to make the light, and so prematurely. we were excited, and i think we felt almost invisible. smiling at each other like we just won twenty bucks on a scratch off sorta thing.

about a quarter mile down Church is another light at the intersection at Walnut Ave. the light was only put there maybe two years ago and it's always green. it only turns red if someone sets off the sensor on Walnut Ave. but Walnut Ave. is basically non existent and serves almost no purpose. it only turns red if the entire world is pinned against you and just the day before you broke a mirror and walked under a ladder. so in the midst of our happiness that light turned red. it would be foolish not to mention we saw it happen. with our own eyes. after it sunk in we just sorta laughed and looked at each other, because these things happen.

A Series Of Unfortunate Events That Led To A Somewhat Fortunate Event....Sorta

i left my car at work the other day because my friend picked me up - when she was dropping me off at my car we noticed two cars parked in the road, in the shoulder, in front of my job. they were parked facing each other and when they saw us pull in they immediately ran to our car, went to the drivers window and proceeded to ask my friend if she would please jump one of their cars. my friend then turned to me and said "meghan can you please do it"

as you read this blog i think it's only fair to assume that you will start to form opinions about me. but i don't want one of those opinions to be that i'm stupid. it might begin to look like i'm stupid and constantly make bad decisions. i do constantly make bad decisions, but i'm not stupid. however, if there are two choices i tend to choose the one that in the long run is overall less attractive, it's not because i'm stupid. it's because i'm an optimist, have all the luck in the world, and am dumb enough to believe in the law of attraction.

my battery had been on the fritz, dying at around a bi-weekly rate. i knew this might not end well. but i felt for them. not too long ago it had been me sitting in the freezing cold dark waiting for a jump, a savior. i liked the idea of that being me to someone else. my friend left me with two complete strangers and two dead batteries on my hands (hers had died trying to jump his). i took out my cables and began the process - but it just wasn't working. we tried both of our cables, and i tried jumping both of their cars. nothing. then more nothing - my battery sizzled out just as i was losing hope either of their cars would ever start again. i stepped off to the side of the road and screamed at nothing, about nothing. it was cold as hell.

i asked to borrow a lighter so i could smoke a cigarette - they invited me to their car. i accepted. the prospect of extra body heat shut up any qualms i had about jumping into a strangers car, plus it'd be hard to kidnap me without a working vehicle. my friend had to come back to jump all of us, but before she did me and the two strangers formed a bit of a friendship. they offered me a hit from their peace pipe and the guy kept repeating "is this not the craziest thing that's ever happened to you? THREE DEAD CARS?!?!?!". i didn't wanna lie so i said nothing - crazier things have happened.

a week later my battery died again, it wasn't much of a problem until i realized i didn't have my cables. my friend had accidentally took them during the previous weeks fiasco. it seemed like a shot in hell, but i called her boyfriend (they share a car) and turns out he was really close to where my car died. so he jumped it and asked that i pick his girlfriend up from work. he was busy and didn't wanna be late. i did it.

A Boys Dream

i went to work one day last week, a saturday actually. one of my many responsibilities at the cleaners is taking out the garbage. when i went to remove the bag from the front garbage something caught my eye. this something was clearly out of place in a dry cleaners garbage. i couldn't tell what it was, all i knew was this was wood, and this was hand crafted.

i picked it up out of the garbage, avoiding snotty tissues all the way through. i don't even know what came over me or why i picked it out of the garbage. it wasn't worth any money, it wasn't pretty. it was a small wooden snowman decorated with buttons and glued to a wooden base. it wasn't even painted. it was a project my bosses son made in kindergarten and gave to my boss. what was it doing in the garbage? i flipped it over and looked at the bottom of the base, jack was carved into the wood. i felt like i was about to cry, or just throw up. i thought about my own dad, and his absence. i thought about how a son loves his father, who is just a man - no matter what. but that man maybe doesn't recognize the love, or doesn't have time for it - or at least doesn't have time to return the love. maybe i took it too far. maybe it was taking up too much space and just getting in the way. i mean christmas season had long passed and who is a five year old to notice the gift he gave his father go missing? i still couldn't help but think that the snowman was a gift and couldn't mean much to my boss, who threw it out.

my manager, a mom, was more disgusted than me-and she wasn't giving my boss the benefit of the doubt. she knew this snowman wasn't just a dust collector. she went into his office and placed it back on his desk. it's been there since.

after all this i remembered a time earlier, over the summer when jack came into work to help his dad wash the car. he looked so happy. my boss looked irritated and drained. not to mention stressed. i also thought about a time when i was on the train and i had put my backpack in the carrier and a man not too different from my boss helped me take it down. i wasn't even struggling or reaching for the backpack, i hadn't even yet attempted to get it. but he must have noticed that i was pretty short and not too toned. he sensed i had no one to help me, and i would appreciate it, he knew that. i missed my own dad right then. i missed having my own dad. not that he would have been on the train to help me anyway, but i wouldn't have felt so sad when someone else was.

You're Ageless, Timeless, Lace And Fineness

over the summer i went ahead and saw Mama Mia - the film adaptation, it was a wonderful movie going experience. two girls a row ahead of me knew all the songs and dances, so they performed along with the cast. i really appreciated it because it brought the movie to life. the tall boy also brought the movie to life, but at a cost. my bladder is comparable in size to a walnut so i had to do the 100m dash right to the bathroom halfway through. and about twenty minutes later i had to go again - but i sure as hell wasn't gonna miss the mystery of the bastard child get solved so i made the difficult decision to sit it out and suffer to the end.

as soon as the movie ended i started power walking (a skill i perfected in 11th grade gym class, thanks mrs.perry) to the bathroom. on the way i passed the two girls and let them know they rocked. when i finally reached the bathroom i was relieved to know i beat the movie-just-let-out bathroom rush and i picked a middle stall (i'm a firm believer that the first stall is in fact the dirtiest) sat down and peed. outside my stall i could hear the first few signs of a crowd, but what i hadn't realized was that in my haste to pee i hadn't locked the stall. i've gotten into a terrible habit of using the bathroom with the door open at my house, and at the houses of friends, which i guess got me too comfortable, and with my carelessness led to the exhibition of that habit in a very public restroom.

so as i'm on the toilet, pants down, squatting and still a nice stream of pee being banished from the body, in other words as vulnerable as one can be, a woman in her mid forties, fresh off a movie musical designed with her in mind and with the prospect of love keeping her high, swung the stall door open, shrieked, apologized, stepped back and let the door swing back shut. i made my grand, shameless exit about 5 seconds later, looked at her, laughed and placed the blame on myself.

i was about to make a clean escape - my back to the lady, when she yelled from the space in front of the stall "wait, is the lock broken?". at this point i had a small audience, i was a little tipsy (or so i'd like to think), and i had no reason to lie so i turned my head, smirked, and said "no i live on the edge like that". her face was priceless - curiosity mixed with confusion. i didn't wanna leave her hanging, but i knew i didn't have time for what i really wanted to do - liberate her! like a race horse when the gates open. i wanted to tell her she too could pee with the door open, and if she wanted she could drink beer in the theater with no regard for the rules. she could throw it all out the window. she could even leave the kids with her mom and take a vacation, or tell off Jim from work. but i didn't because these are things she payed her therapist for.

Held Without Bail

today on the train something funny happened, in the sense that it was unexpected. there are two people who always get on together at wyandanch, one male and one female, who always sit together. but today when they got on she took a seat up front by the doors, and he sat next to me - on the inside (i always take an outside seat because i feel trapped on the inside, and okay yeah it discourages people from sitting next to me). so there was this awkward moment where he was putting his stuff above my seat in the overhead carrier, but i still didn't get that he wanted to sit next to me, and my headphones were on, so he had to mouth and gesture for me to get up to allow him access to the inner seat. most people are reluctant to take a seat that places them in the situation of having to communicate with another passenger, and this is why even though i felt him wanting the seat i didn't act on that feeling. anyway, when he sat next to me i felt at peace, as if we were together, in the same boat.

i imagined her telling him that she didn't love him anymore, but him behind her on the train, like he had always been behind her. him telling himself that she'll come around. we were both dressed in all black from head to toe, except my red hat - his was black, and his skin was black too and i thought his insides to be darker than mine because of the wear from his age. i thought that if i wanted i could rest my head upon his shoulder and that would be fine with him. not that i would ever attempt such a thing (not to say that i didn't want to). but if i needed to i felt comfort in believing that i could. so i sat and read Swift, and he sat with his eyes closed, and i felt like we shared more than just the commute.

It's Optimum, Or It's Not

i was on the train, and i always take a look at the poster advertisements. probably because most are for exotic vacations and airline tickets, and at 6am on the way to school nothing seems more desirable. props to the marketing executives responsible for the placement of such ads. anyway i was taking a specific look at one ad with christina applegate (i think and i wanna say i'm pretty sure, definitely in the 85%-95% range) on it with the promise of receiving not one but SEVEN lifetime channels if you make the switch from Optimum iO to Verizon FiOs.

so my first thought is, how the heck can "they*" get enough tv, movie, biopics (a lifetime signature move), whatever to fill 7 channels and all about women in danger and broken homes and teenagers impregnated by their rapists. how many repeats of army wives can one watch? well i thought at least one must be in spanish, but still 6 lifetimes. damn.

but my second thought was what a beautiful symbol for america. because we don't want one lifetime, no. we want seven, or even eight i mean would be nice, right?

*still no clue yet as to who "they" are.

JUST AS A SIDE NOTE: isn't it weird how you drop most things and they just kinda hit the ground with one sudden and instantaneous thud and then it's all over. but sometimes you can drop a bowl and it just continues to make that terrible noise as it wobbles across the floor in a dreidel like fashion until you either pick it up and stop it yourself, or the entire thing just plays out and gravity and friction put it to rest. it's just funny to me because its the one thing you drop and kinda have to like immediately cater to it or else you hear that sound.