Megan's Birthday
Il Lupo's Pub on 123 in Fairfax
11:15 tonight (Friday)
Be There - Yeah!

From Weggie's away message:
One of the funniest things I've ever seen happened tonight. Thank you, Zach Myers and Mike Kelleher.

From Lucy's away message:

We had a picnic in the park
at midnight when it was dark
we acted really silly and played games
because we're theatre majors and have no shame.
It was a night no one should've missed
ended by Zach and Mike who pissed.
Now I smell like mesquite
and it's time for sleep.

I can't get the taste out of my mouth. I have never inhaled such a foul cloud of odor. But it was worth it, I have also never laughed so hard. Must shower to get stench out of my hair. Will explain later.

um...


...Loofah



:)

My ADD presentation went well. One of the teachers said that Kim and I had a fresh, natural, improvisational quality to our presentation and I couldn't help but laugh.

I'm going to drive over to class for the sole purpose of getting a Diet Cherry Coke out of my back seat. I should install my mini-fridge.

I guess everyone comes to a point in their lives where they don't want to celebrate birthdays anymore. After 21 it's all kinda downhill. I just don't have time to plan birthday parties anymore. I had plans to make this one a big deal because I'm turning 27 on the 27th, but it's so much work. For my birthday I want to take a nap, and I want a "Kick the Cheat" from homestarrunner.com. But neither of those things are going to happen today.

In Comedy class today we had a 50 question exam that Meggie and I had forgotten about. We walked in 20 minutes late as usual... we almost skipped... and there were these two girls sitting outside the classroom. We were like what's up, and they were like... they're taking a test in there.. and I said, so how did you guys get out of it... they looked at me like, duh, and said, "we already finished" Weggie and I looked at eachother in horror, recovered and said Alright!! Lets go fail a test!! Woo hoo! Yay for improv. It's a test on comedy, and we are two of the Wednesday Night Warriors! We know comedy! Right! But this is Ancient Greek and Roman comedy, and we haven't read a single page of the plays. Shrug it off and get to work. So we both disrupted the entire class asking for scantrons and pencils, yes, we ARE those assholes. We both probably failed, but eh, you can't go back in time. After the test the entire class talked us into doing an encore presentation of our skit from last week. Sorority girls are SO easily amused. I didn't think it was THAT funny, I mean we ARE good, but I didn't think we were so good as to do it again.

Whatever.

Now I have to go fail a presentation in ADD class. That's Advanced Directing and Dramaturgy although since it's tag-team-taught by two Yale-ies it might as well just be called ADD Class. I LOVE IT!

Happy Birthday to ME!!




As my brother would say, "Snargle!"

Tonight I was jumping out of my skin, but Lucy rescued me. We went out for sushi and saw Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. It was pretty cool.

Interpreting my epic dream:

* To dream that your fingers are injured or have been chopped off, denotes your anxieties about your ability to accomplish some demanding task or perform in some waking situation.

*To dream that you are in pain, signifies that you are being too hard on yourself with regards to a situation that was out of your control. It may also be a true reflection of real pain that exists somewhere in your body.

*To see a hospital in your dream, symbolizes your need to heal or improve your physical or mental heath. You need to get back to the flow of everyday life.

*To dream that you are in school, signifies feelings of inadequacy and childhood insecurities that have never been resolved. It may relate to anxieties about performance and abilities. You may also be going through a "spiritual learning" experience. Alternatively, a dream that takes place in school may be a metaphor for the lessons that you are learning from your waking life.

*To see your teacher (past or present) in your dream, suggests that you are seeking some advice, guidance, or knowledge. You are heading into a new path in life and ready to learn by example or from a past experience. Consider your own personal experiences with that particular teacher. What subject was taught? Alternatively, it may relate to issues with authority and seeking approval. You may going through a situation in your waking life where you feel that you are being treated like a student or in which you feel you are being put to a test.

*To see a city in your dream, signifies a sense of community and your social environment. To dream that you are in a deserted city or that you feel alienated from the activity of the city, then it suggests that you feel rejected by those around you.

*To see a group of women talking in your dream, refers to some gossip.

*To dream that you are calling or signaling for help, suggests that you are feeling lost, overwhelmed, and/or inadequate.

*To dream that you are alone, indicates feelings of rejection. You may be feeling that no one understand you.


Well this doesn't explain everything, but from what I've seen I really need to remember not to skip the ole Zoloft anymore.

Today's Chinese Proverb:
"Man is the main source of his own misery."
- from Horoscope.com

Aint that the truth.

I was supposed to go into DC to see some museums today, but then I got invited to the march for Womens's lives by several friends and I saw an article in the Post about IMF protesters and I said, hmmm... maybe today is not such a good day for the National Mall.

When I heard about the march, I thought it was like against violence, or it was for equality or something like that. Yeah March for Womens Lives!! But then last night a friend stopped by all excited about it, saying she had never been to a march or protest in DC and she couldn't wait to confront those stupid anti-abortion protesters. Ba-huh??? Who? What? Where did this come from? I grew up as one of those "stupid anti-abortion protesters." Just because I despise the current political administration doesn't mean I've changed all that much.

I think it's time to dispell some of the myths about Megan's liberal mind:
I've peacefully marched for womens lives 6 or 7 times as a teenager. But they were UNBORN womens lives. I believe that life begins at conception. I believe that all life is sacred. I believe that God should be the only one who decides who lives or dies.

Now, this does NOT mean that I'm pro-conservative bullshitters! They are hippocrites who do NOT respect life. They are taking the lives of innocent bystanders in the middle east to increase their bank accounts with oil. They take the lives of poor people who cannot afford a good attorney when accused of murder. They disrespect us by putting a president into power that the people of america DID NOT VOTE FOR. They take money away from the arts and spend it on tiny bribery to america's military.

This is difficult to explain to some of my friends but I'm not really sure where I stand on the whole "Womens Rights" issue. Should cloning be legal? Just because we CAN do something, does that mean we SHOULD do it? And vice versa just because morally we shouldn't do something, should we make it illegal and punishable? The fact that stabbing someone in the throat is illegal doesn't stop murders from happening. and the speed limit on the street outside my apartment says 25mph but forget that I'm in a hurry.

The reason that people don't see eye to eye on this issue is that there are hippocrites on both sides and they are the ones that get the most press. Nobody cares about people like me that are on the fence. The media covers the "Murderous Pro-Lifer" - such an oxy-moron and there are only a handful in the world! They are bloodthirsty psychos that hide behind a cause and if abortion was completely wiped out, these people would probably move on to another crusade to satisfy their bloodlust. Then there are the "pro-cuteness" people. They like little babies. They think everyone should have little babies. They think the reason that only poor ugly people are given the death penalty is because only poor stinky ugly people commit crimes. I'm not making this up, this comes directly from a debate with one of my roomates last year.

Growing up, the pro-lifers are taught about the dangers of abortion, the emotional after-effects, the moral consequences. In catholic school we were taught that the founder of Planned Parenthood was a member of the Nazi party and that this organization was started to encourage people of minorities to use birth control and get abortions to decrease the population of African-Americans and Latinos in the United States and that anyone who supports Planned Parenthood is also supporting white supremecy. The zealots are shown videos of babies recoiling from the touch of a scalpel in a D&C and told that the nervous system is the first working system in the fetus and that every baby feels pain when aborted.

I remember having to leave the room in religion class because my teacher was describing each type of abortion in medical detail, and they sounded so disgusting and torturous and painful to both mother and child that I got lightheaded and nausous at the very thought. I don't plan on ever doing that to myself.

Women's Lives? Women's Rights? I belive that it starts at home. If you don't want to get pregnant, then don't put yourself in that situation.

As far as the law is concerned? I don't know. I definitely don't want old men in the Capitol Building making decisions about my body. They have no idea what it's like to be me. But at the same time why should one murder be forgiven by the law and others not? Then there is the whole issue of privacy... if the government starts making decisions about the womb, where does it end? I don't want to give up personal control to the people who "thought" there were weapons of mass destruction in Iraq.

In my personal life? In all other forms of murder, self-defense is forgivable. So I guess I would start with that idea. I believe there is no single right answer. Every situation is different. You can't generalize about an entire gender. I don't think you should name a march after a gender, when this gender is not 100% behind what you are marching for.

Sometimes I think that the things I really want in life don't actually exist. Sometimes I fool myself into thinking they do exist, but that I'm too scared to go get them. Then I realise that they don't really exist and I go back home and get drunk alone in front of the TV.

I had a dream last night that while cracking my knuckles I accidentally pulled off my finger tip. It was painful. there was oddly no blood. I put it back on for a little while and went about my business, because you see I was at a GMU Players show and I was doing the presidently things that I always do.

Then I was nervous about something, can't recall what, and I started to play with my fingers agian, and it came off again. then I couldn't get it back on. I tried to take care of it myself. but it hurt so bad. I went into the theatre lounge to call 911 but then I just started screaming. One of the theatre teachers walked by and saw me freaking out and said, yeah, what are you doing here? you need to go to the emergency room. Another teacher heared the commotion and came over and was like yeah, whoah, that's a nice clean cut, they can probably reattach that. I said, I heard it's best to put it on ice, and the first one said, yeah, lets get you some ice for that.

To get the ice we had to walk through the mainstage production going on in Theatrespace. The cast seemed to be made up of a combination of the Venus cast and the Loves Labors Lost cast and a few friends of mine from my pre-GMU days. I didn't want anyone to see my crying so I held my fingertip and walked with my head down. I started to get lightheaded either from the gross-out factor or the loss of invisible blood. Passing by people behind the blacks, they would pat me on the shoulder or smack my butt and say good game, or ask me how I was doing. I'd tell them I was fine.

Finally one of my friends could tell I was lying and she was like, you don't look fine. So I showed her my dismembered fingertip, and she said, J.C. what the hell are you still doing here, Megan??? I said, getting ice. She's like, somebody should be doing that for you! You need to go to the emergency room! So finally the professor came back with the ice and ironically enough a few highball glasses. I put my finger "on the rocks" and held a few cubes in my hand and went outside to head for the emergency room.

Suddenly I was alone. The cool friend had to go onstage so she couldn't come with me. I wandered across the grass at school, but it wasn't GMU, it looked more like Catholic University because there were open grassy areas but we were definitely in the city.

I recognised another friend with her car, and I said, can you give me a ride? please? and she said I have to be on stage in a few minutes and I want to smoke first. I said it's really important and she said, sorry I'm making a cigarrette run, we can hang out later. And she drove off, and I fell on the grass with my decapitated finger and just screamed in pain. Then I pulled myself up and started walking to the hospital.

The cool friend, who seemed more like a combination of a couple of my trustworthy real life friends, found me stumbling down the street and again was like, what the hell are you doing? Why aren't you at the hospital? I said, I don't have any money for a cab. She felt bad and said, I don't either, but I'll walk with you. So we walked through the city as fast as we could. We walked through this block that was full of cool little theatres, it was how I imagine London. All the shows were letting out at the same time. There were all these women with furs and men bringing the car around to meet them. I asked for a ride to the hospital and none of them heard me. My cool friend was like, come ON Megan!

I said, I had no idea this existed! All these theatres in a row, it's so beautiful! And she made a sarcastic comment about it being beautiful when my finger was reattached. We finally got to a hospital right next to the Capitol building in DC. We walked in to the front desk, which vaguely resembled the DMV, and then we couldn't stop laughing. My friend and I were so happy to finally be at the hospital that we couldn't talk. The nurses thought we were just a couple of kids pulling a prank. One was like, EXCUSE ME! Can I HELP you young ladies??? in an angry tone. My cool friend said, yes, my friend has a little problem. and she forced me to show my finger to the nurse.

The nurse was a little surprised and grossed out and was like why didn't you say so?! So she got the team to take me to the trauma room and then I woke up. I found that I had all fingertips intact, but that I had been sleeping on my hands and couldn't feel some of them.

My Mason Day was Moocherific. I have very expensive and messy friends.
Some people just suck you dry.
And others just suck.

After being a social prisoner in my apartment for 8 hours, I'm going outside to taste sweet freedom.

After 5 hours of sleeping on my bathroom floor, I finally convinced Jesse to move to the couch. He's going to be ok. I made up a bed for him on the couch with sheets and pillows and everything, I even let him use my Power Puff Girls fleece throw. But he was so out of it that he just flopped on top of everything. It was funny, the whole elaborate process went something like this:

Between 10pm and 11pm I checked him periodically to make sure he was still breathing. I kept asking him to move to the couch but he kept saying, "I'm ok. I promise not to puke." A few friends stopped by one at a time, and all were surprised to see a pair of hairy feet poking out of my bathroom doorway. Melissa's face mouthing "who is that?" and pointing was my favorite reaction. Then she took a closer look and said, "Did you go to Chantilly?" Jesse freaked out and said, "Yes!! What the hell is going on??" Melissa left him wallowing in his confusion on the dirty bathroom floor.

I watched cartoons and did the dishes, then as Family Guy ended around midnight I went back to my room and noticed the feet were facing the opposite direction. So I exclaimed, "Jesse!!!! You rolled over!!!" He said, "I did? Yaaaay!!" The few seconds of celebrating must have worn him out because he was unconcious again soon after. So I made up the couch for him. Then I went back to the hairy feet and kicked them, and sternly ordered him, "Jesse? It is time to move!" and he said, "OK, where're we goin?" still on the floor. "Just to the couch" "OK... couch" So he got up on his own, but I think he had forgotten where the couch was. So I helped him out with the directions. When he saw the couch he stumbled back in awe (or just lost his balance) and said, "Oooh this is for MEeeee? Power Puff Girls and everything!!!" Then he fell flat on top of the couch with his feet where I had turned down the sheets nicely and his toes hanging over the pillows. "Wrong end, dummy!" I said as I pulled the pillows out from under his feet and threw them at his head.

Now I'm going to sleep. Goodnight.
"Thanks for breaking my cow lamp!" -Homestar

I invited 3 people over. I said we could drink from 3-5 until the band came on. Suddenly I had missed the band, and there were 20 people in my apartment, and they were all calling their friends to come join the party. I finally kicked them out and now I am left with empty bottles, a pizza crust on my windowsill, popcorn mashed into my carpet, and a random guy puking in my bathroom. And the worst part is I really want to take a poo.

I guess all the stereotypes about theatre people are true afterall.

HAPPY MASON DAY!

This is our day of school spirit, when we broke free from the confines of UVA and became our own autonomous party-school!!!

I'll see you at Guster, 6pm. There's also a slumber party in the theatre lounge tonight. I call the wierd patterned couch!!

Friends are nice things to have. Thank you friends for all you do. Life wouldn't be the same without you.

And everyone please pray for Kim and her friend. I've been where she is and I see how much it hurts. You are a victim here. A person must decide for his or herself to live. No human being can keep another alive, and we shouldn't feel like we have to. You are ultimately responsible for yourself, and that is enough pressure in this life. You will feel many emotions; sadness, anger, confusion, and pain... but never let yourself feel guilt over something you cannot control or prevent. Her actions are not your fault. This too shall pass. Peace.

I can't go to the ABC store. I have no money. And I really shouldn't go anyways because I chickened out on #4. I'm sleepy, but it's time for some Improv.

I slept so much last night!!! I feel GOOD. Big papers are done! Good times!

Another funny email, this time from Karen:

EXCERPTS FROM A DOG'S DAILY DIARY:

8:00 a.m. Oh, boy! Dog food! My favorite!
9:30 a.m. Oh, boy! A car ride! My favorite!
9:40 a.m. Oh, boy! A walk! My favorite!
10:30 a.m. Oh, boy! Getting rubbed and petted! My favorite!
11:30 a.m. Oh, boy! Dog food! My favorite!
12:00 p.m. Oh, boy! The kids! My favorite!
1:00 p.m. Oh, boy! The yard! My favorite!
4:00 p.m. Oh, boy! To the park! My favorite!
5:00 p.m. Oh, boy! Dog food! My favorite!
5:30 p.m. Oh, boy! Pretty Mums! My favorite!
6:00 p.m. Oh, boy! Playing ball! My favorite!
6:30 p.m. Oh, boy! Watching TV with my master! My favorite!
8:30 p. m Oh, boy! Sleeping in master's bed! My favorite!

NOW...
EXCERPTS FROM A CAT'S DAILY DIARY:

Day 183 of My Captivity-
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture.
Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant. Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded; must try this at the top of the stairs.
In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair, must try this on their bed.
Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in an attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was. (Hmmm, not working according to plan.)
There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary confinement throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the food. More importantly, I overheard that my confinement was due to my power of "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.
I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a Half-wit. The bird, on the other hand, has got to be an informant, and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room, his safety is
assured.
But I can wait, it is only a matter of time......

Numbers 1-3 have been successfully accomplished! I'm having second and third thoughts about number four. I don't think I'm going to do it. It's just too scary. The scary thing will have to remain undone. I'll have to find a new scary thing to do.

Elly just sent me this:



The Irish Prostitute

An Irish girl went to London to work as a secretary and began sending home money and gifts to her parents.

After a few years they asked her to come home for a visit, as her father was getting frail and elderly. She pulled up to the family home in a Rolls Royce and stepped out wearing furs and diamonds.

As she walked into the house her father said "Hmmm, they seem to be paying secretaries awfully well in London.."

The girl took his hands and said, "Dad, I've been meaning to tell you something for years but I didn't want to put it in a letter. I can't hide it from you any longer. I've become a prostitute."

Her father gasped, put his hand on his heart and keeled over. The doctor was called but the old man had clearly lost the will to live. He was put to bed and the priest was called.

As the priest began to administer Extreme Unction, with the mother and daughter weeping and wailing, the old man muttered weakly, "I'm a goner, killed by me own daughter! Killed by the shame of what you've become!"

"Please forgive me," his daughter sobbed, "I only wanted to have nice things! I wanted to be able to send you money and the only way I could do it was by becoming a prostitute."

Brushing the priest aside, the old man bolted upright in bed, smiling.

"Did ye say prostitute? I thought ye said PROTESTANT!!"

Why did I pull an all nighter when I actually didn't start writing till 8am? It amazes me how dumb I am sometimes. But I got the first paper done. Only three more things to do on my list until I go to the ABC store!

So I'm thinking about the thing again. I need to get it over with.

So yeah... If I fail history... I place all the blame squarely on Friendster.
Jade started it by leaving me a testimonial tonight. Then it all just snowballed. Where did I get this addictive personality from? So obsessive.

Oh yeah, and I still suck at life.

I haven't been able to concentrate on anything important today. Maybe it's the weather. The cliche guys in shorts and burkinstocks have been throwing the frisbee around listening to Dave Matthews and Jimmy Buffett and it makes me ill. Not the fact that they are throwing a frisbee around, just the fact that they are so stereotypical.

I feel a little sicky today. I'm on the edge of something important, but I don't know if I want to jump off. I mean I want to be already off the edge. It's the jumping part that's scary. And maybe jumping is not a good idea. Maybe it just looks good. But I won't know until I jump. The Comedy Bible had me list 5 thing that were doable, but would take me outside my comfort zone. Then I am to chose one and DO IT DO IT! This I have chosen to do this week is number one. This is the scariest thing I know. I like to think it wouldn't mind being done but I can't be sure until I've tried to do it. Those of you who know what it is are probably laughing at me. Those of you who have no idea, it's better that way. If I do this scary thing then I will tell you all about it after it's done. Until then it must remain a surprise. Because the ridicule of telling everyone I would do it and then not doing it would be the worse thing... actually the worst thing will be if I make a weak attempt to do the thing and it doesn't work out. That would be worse. But even if I fail, I can at least be proud of myself for trying and then learn from my mistakes.

This beginning of this week is going to be so tough. Monday a paper is due. Tuesday another paper and a presentation are due. Wednesday is the best day to do the thing that I am scared to do. Thursday is Mason Day. So I'm going to try to use that as a reward. I'm not allowed to go to the liquer store and stock up for Mason Day until I have done these things:

1. Paper for History
2. Presentation for Greek&Roman Comedy
3. Paper for ADD (Advanced Directing & Dramaturgy)
4. Do the scary thing.

In that order. I wish I could do the scary thing now. But I wonder if I'm just using my worry about the scary thing to avoid thinking about whether The Taming of the Shrew showed that Shakespeare was undermining the social structure of the time.

Let's write about things that are more fun. I've been carrying my comedy notebook around with me wherever I go. It has become a joke unto itself. My friends have started to shout, "Hey, Megan, write that down!" whenever anything funny happens. And then they laugh because I actually do. I was at the grocery store with Luci B and I saw fake meat in the organic section and I said woah, and jotted down the names of all the meat wanna-bees.

It's the Kelleher way. Transcend and forget. Life is rosy when you don't remember the bad stuff. I have bruises on my body and I don't know where they came from, because when I bump into stuff (as I am prone to do) I shake it off and forget it ever happened. A couple days later when the brown/black/blue spot appears, I say, "Whoah, that must have been a doozy!"

So a couple months from now, once I have left GMU for good. - and it will be good. I will no longer remember the times people disappointed, hurt, or utterly disgusted me. I will only remember the good times, the Denny's times, the hiding-and-seeking in the PAB times, and even those only vaguely and assisted by visual aids such as pictures and ticket stubs.

I suck at life. It's Miller Time.









I still hate her. just so we are clear on that.

transcend and forget

p.s. Don't mess with Meegs

There are a few people in this world who just go out of their way to piss me off. Why? There are many things these people can do to avoid pissing me off, but they do the exact opposite. Then they seem to revel in it. They laugh. "Ooooh, look how pissed off Megan is. Ha ha" I don't like these people. I especially don't like when they pretend to be my friend to my face. I don't want to look at these people. I don't want to talk to these people. I don't want to breathe the same air as these people. These people are idiotic. They make their own lives miserable. On purpose. Because nobody likes them. Telling a sad story gets them pity friends. Who wants pity friends? I'm tired of these people. I can't wait until I never have to see them again. EVER.

When I'm rich and famous, I will not invite these people to my fancy celebrity parties. And if I see these people on the street, I will pretend not to know them. I really hate these people. I will not satisfy these people with naming her name, because when I look back on this journal, or when my autobiography is published, I would rather forget I ever knew these people.

The ole' Birthday is coming up. So I updated the ole' Wishlist.
Please sort by PRIORITY. The default is to sort by date added and I just added a bunch of stupid stuff that I don't really need. But if you sort by priority, it puts my absolute favorite items at the top.
http://amazon.com/gp/registry/3NGQ6YUIXNW6M

It has come to my attention that a lot of people don't know what Second City is, or why I am so damn excited about spending a week there. I will attempt to elaborate.

Second City is an improv-based theatre in Chicago that was founded in 1959 and has been a starting point for such comic actors as: Alan Arkin, Peter Boyle, Harold Ramis, John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd, Bill Murray, John Candy, Martin Short, Gilda Radner, George Wendt, Jim Belushi, Bonnie Hunt, Mike Myers, Ryan Stiles, Rachel Dratch, Tina Fey, Tim Meadows, Chris Farley, Nia Vardalos and now Melissa Topsher, Zach Meyers, and Megan Kelleher.

In short.
It's REALLLLLLY COOOOOL!

I'm definitely going. Melissa sent her application yesterday. I think Zach is coming too, but I haven't heard the final verdict yet. I wish Meggie was coming too, but she just found out that she was accepted for an internship with the Kennedy Center. That's pretty cool too, and much harder to achieve. So congrats to Meggie! We will work together again soon.

A week is not much time to spend at a place, but I'll see if I like it, and see if they like me, and maybe I will apply for more classes there. If I don't like Chicago, then the treasure will be the wonderful memories we are creating.



"The tall skinny one wants dry white toast, and the short one wants four whole fried chickens and a coke!"

It has been confirmed.
I am going to Chicago.

I am to report to Pipers Ally at 6pm on Sunday August 8th.

"Hit it!"

I paid my huge ass DC parking ticket today and I've done a few other productive things without even leaving my apartment. I love the internet.


MTV!! PEEMP MY RIIIDE
Wooofers!
Reeems!
DeeeVeeDeeee!

I love America!

I'm a little stressed about money. Parking tickets to pay, creditors to shake off... life in "the biz" is tough so far.

OK four hours later and I still want to go to Chicago. 4 whole hours on the same life track. This MUST be good!

OK, I've decided on my career.

I'm going to be on Saturday Night Live in about 5-10 years.

To get there I have to study at Second City in Chicago.
Take a look at their alumni list http://www.secondcity.com/history/alumni/chicago.asp

There is a week long "Improv Bootcamp" this summer and I called and there is room. So I've talked to my gang of comedy buddies from the Wednesday Night Workshop and I think I can get at least one of them to come with me so I won't be travelling alone.

If I like the classes there, I'll check into their conservatory program and audition for it (thats how all the cool people studied). So there you go. That's my life for the next few years in a nutshell.

As Second City alum Mike Myers would say "How did I get inside such a large nutshell?"

Which Family Guy character are you?

Stayin up late, doin stuff I should have done weeks ago. There's no special reason I chose tonight to do it. I'm just kind of on a roll. My legs are asleep but my brain is awake. I'm finally free. I'm finally back to where I was in the fall. My only responsiblity is to play hostess this weekend during the show. But honestly if I flaked out and didn't show up, nothing bad would happen because I've hired the best management staff ever and they've got it all under control. Right now, I'm just President Meegs... cheering on my fellow performing artists.

Now... to pass history.