I'm a big fan of Bed Bath & Beyond

When I first moved to Madison my aunt and uncle sent me a shockingly large gift card to Bed Bath & Beyond. In the envelope they included lots and lots coupons, and I was thrilled. With a brand new apartment, I had already taken several trips to the store, and I knew I had many more in my future.

Within two weeks of receiving the gift card I went shopping. Even though I had an absurd amount on my gift card I only bought the few things that I needed. I spent about $20, used a coupon, and left.

A few weeks later a few things had made their way onto my list, so I went to Bed Bath & Beyond. After I gave the cashier my coupons I searched my wallet for my gift card. I couldn't find it! I went through my wallet again. There was a line behind me, so I gave the woman my credit card, took my bag, and headed home, all the while my mind racing. Where in the world could the gift card be?!

I went back to my apartment and ripped it apart from top to bottom. I looked in every single drawer, pocket, purse, folder and place the gift card could have possibly managed to make it. I found the receipt from my first purchase on the gift card within minutes, just where it should have been, so I began to worry. If I found the receipt so easily and I couldn't find the card itself, where could it be?! For the next two days I repeated the tearing apart process until I was completely sure there was no way that my gift card could be within the walls of my place.

On Saturday I went to Bed Bath & Beyond, receipt in hand, tail between legs, to ask about the card. The customer service woman called the manager who came down and asked what the problem was. I told him that I had only used it once, showed him the receipt with the balance, told him I had planned to use it earlier in the week and couldn't find it anywhere. I asked if there was anything he could do to help, such as cancel the gift card. He asked to take my receipt and call corporate about the card. I was grateful for the help, so I gladly turned over the receipt. Bill made a copy for himself and was back in moments with the original for me. He warned me that it may take a little while, but I assured him that I never have an issue with wandering through the store.

Ten minutes went by.

Ten more minutes went by.

A full twenty-five minutes after Bill had left with the copy of my receipt he returned with a piece of paper and a look on his face that didn't look very promising. He told me that they had tracked the gift card and it had a balance of seventy-seven cents.

My jaw dropped. I felt like I was going to be sick.

"Oh my gosh. Really? Less than a dollar? I must have dropped it when I was leaving that very first day I used it. I can't believe I did that! Wow. Okay. Well, thank you for your help and your time."

"While I was speaking with gift card services they said the action on the screen seems a bit suspicious. Almost all of the purchases were candy and small impulse buys from around the checkout counters. And the balance was taken down to seventy-seven cents within six days after the receipt you gave to me. We think it all seems a bit suspicious. May I have your telephone number? We would like to investigate this a little more."

I gave Bill my telephone number and left, upset with myself for being so clumsy and dropping my card.

Less than an hour later my telephone rang.

"Hi, Meaghan? This is Bill from the East Side Bed Bath & Beyond. After looking into the gift card and the transactions that were made, it is clear that you didn't use the card. We have decided to reissue the remaining balance that you had on your gift card. There will be a card waiting for you in the safe at the store with your name on the envelope. When you come in just let them know there is something waiting for you, all of the managers have been informed."

"Are you serious?! Thank you so much! Oh my gosh! I cannot thank you enough. This is amazing. I really appreciate this. Thank you."

I don't know if I dropped the card or the cashier never gave the card back to me, but whatever happened, Bed Bath & Beyond went above and beyond.

Over the last few months I have continued to chip away at my gift card, carefully putting it back in my wallet every single time I use it. And every time I use it I am so grateful for nice people and nice companies. Thank you, Bill. And thank you, Bed Bath & Beyond, I am happy to shop your stores anytime.

Merry Christmas!

My One Year Anniversary

Can you believe it? It has been a full year since I moved back to the USA. I don't know if it feels like I just moved back yesterday, or if it feels as though I have been back in the States for years.

In one year my sister was accepted to Alvin Ailey (her audition was on 12/12), moved to New York City, got her learner's permit, transferred to Joffrey Ballet School and moved into a dorm room (without parental supervision) in Greenwich Village.

In one year my brother graduated from college, got an awesome job, moved to Wyoming and somehow became a grown-up.

My other brother, in one year, worked his tail off, spent his 13th summer at camp as a counselor and started going back to school.

My father moved to Abu Dhabi.

My mother has cleaned out the basement and the attic, replaced the roof, visited her three children in new homes and I'm sure I'm missing things...

Wilbur lost 7 pounds.

Tupper started eating a new brand of dog food.

As for me, I have lived in NYC, Saratoga Springs, and Madison. I worked in an amazing bakery and as a cabbie for models in Manhattan. I dabbled in online dating and snagged myself a fantastic boyfriend. Yes, friends I have boyfriend. I have a wonderful job that I am enjoying more and more every single day. I ran two half-marathons, raised a lot of money for Crohn's and Colitis Foundation, turned 25 and got bangs.

As I mentioned earlier, on one hand I think oh my gosh, has it already been one year? But on the other hand I can't help but think, all of this stuff... it's only been one year?

Happy 12/12/12!

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Happy Aaron Rodgers Day!

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Happy Hump Day!

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Happy Anniversary!

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Whatever you are celebrating, happy day to you!

 

Me? I'm celebrating wonderful memories from abroad, great opportunities in the US, and fantastic friends all over the world.

The quilt is on the move

The quilt is en route to Augusta, GA!

Ellie made it, I sewed on the label, many kindly donated to enter the raffle, and the USPS man stuffed it into a box most would consider too small. It was a labor of love. Well, there was definitely love on Ellie's and my part, but the USPS man was more helpful and rough than loving.

 

 

Thank you again to everyone that donated to CCFA over the past few months, I can't even begin to explain how much it means to me. Soon, I will be posting a full race recap and an exciting donation announcement!

 

Y'all come back now, ya hear?

 

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The Big Race Weekend

After months of training and fundraising, race week finally arrived.

Friday morning I took Wilbur for a long walk and then dropped him off at Waggin' Tails, his happy place. The name is quite fitting because every time we drive there Wilbur gets so excited he almost falls over from wagging his tail so hard. He has to sit down while the rest of his body wiggles uncontrollably until we arrive at daycare.

I immediately drove to Milwaukee to catch my flight to Las Vegas. Naturally, the new iPhone map application got me lost while I was trying to find the long term economy parking, but I figured it out without any help from Siri.

I spent Friday afternoon going to the marathon expo, getting as many freebies as possible, and exploring the strip. Heather, Ann and my mom wouldn't be flying in until Saturday, so I had plenty of time to myself. A few people from my team went out for burgers on Friday night, so I tagged along. My burger was delicious, but when I paid the bill, I was pretty sure that my burger wasn't $37 delicious...

The inside of The Venetian

Saturday morning I slept in and took a long shower while watching the C-USA championship football game. Yes, you read that correctly, I watched the football game from the shower. The large suite that I shared with my mom had two very fluffy and comfy queen beds, a humongous sectional couch in the living area, three televisions and a fax machine. I was tempted to send a fax, but couldn't think of what I would send or who I would send it to.

During halftime I wandered down the strip until I found three dollar beers and the Tulsa football game. I watched Tulsa win the conference championship in overtime while receiving texts from my friends at the game and staring at the characters on the strip during the commercial breaks. Gosh, there are some crazies in Las Vegas.

One of the characters wandering the strip... notice the Lightening McQueen tattoo? I told my dad he should get one...

My mom arrived to the Venetian around 3 and we went out for drinks to wait for Heather and Ann. Our first stop was less than impressive and quite smelly, so we took our seemingly virgin drinks and walked toward the Bellagio. She and I made it just in time to watch the water show. When I received the text from Heather letting me know that they were jumping in a cab to the hotel, my mom and I headed back to meet them in the lobby. Their flight was delayed, so we only had a matter of minutes to change for the pasta party.

At the pasta party we learned that the 1,104 runners raised nearly $4 million for Crohn's and Colitis Foundation! $4 million! That's amazing. We also saw Sean Lowe, next season's bachelor. He was the celebrity for the event, and I was pretty darn excited about it. Heather even snapped a photo with him at the start!

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Sean speaking at the pasta party 

After the party everyone was pretty tired from traveling, so we called it an early night.

Sunday morning my mom and I grabbed breakfast before heading to the pool. It was a delight. We were on the fourth floor between the towers of the hotel, and it felt like we were nowhere near Las Vegas, which was fantastic. We were away from the filth of the street, the crazies of the town and the crazy traffic. Unfortunately, it was also incredibly windy. Heather and Ann met us poolside, but the four of us only lasted about thirty minutes before we were too chilly.

We went back to our room to get ready for the race. With our sparkly skirts and socks, we were ready to run.

The wind advisory as we were getting ready for the race... gusts of 45mph? Yes, we ran through that.

Race recap to come....

Congratulations!

Congratulations to Uncle Jimmy Garvey who won the quilt!

Thank you to everyone who purchased tickets!

My weekend in Las Vegas was wonderful and a great success. More stories to come before the end of the week...

Thank you again for donating to CCFA. My Wisconsin team raised over $130,000 and the team challenge event raised nearly $4 million! Thank you!

Less than a week!

My race is on Sunday! My race is on Sunday! My race is on Sunday!

Only six days from now I will be running a half marathon down the Las Vegas strip surrounded by tens of thousands of people including one of my very best friends, Heather.

We are still in the process of planning our matching outfits for the race, so maybe this photo will give us some inspiration.

Through the end of the year I will continue to raise money for CCFA.

Huge news on the fundraising front: Ellie was kind enough to donate a quilt for me to raffle off for CCFA!

 

You can purchase one ticket for $5 or five tickets for $20! Simply go to my fundraising website, make a donation for the tickets and write "Amazing Quilt Raffle" in the comment section.

I will draw the winner on Sunday, December 2, the day of the race, and ship the quilt to you next week!

 

As of this minute I have sold a total of six raffle tickets, so the odds are looking pretty good.



**I will post the exact measurements of the quilt later this evening.**

I'm a Lucky Girl

I could sit for hours and list all of the things I am thankful for, because there are a lot. But while I spent Thanksgiving in Iowa City with one of my best friends and her family, I realized what I am most thankful for (after my Christmas Pandora station). I am thankful for my loving family and amazing friends I have around the country and the world.

This answer feels like a "duh" answer, but there is so much more to it.

Three years ago I spent Thanksgiving in Thailand, probably eating pad Thai, with one of my best friends. Two years ago I spent Thanksgiving with absolutely wonderful people eating tacos in Khon Kaen. Both years I was surrounded by great friends, most of which I am in contact with on a regular basis.

Last year I spent my Thanksgiving in New Zealand. Oh what I would give to be in Paekakariki again... For Thanksgiving I was spending time with new friends and catching up with family members that I hadn't seen in years, all while eating delicious food.

This year I was in Iowa City with another wonderful group of people. When I moved to Madison in June, Cait invited me to spend Thanksgiving with her family. Actually, now that I think about it, I may have invited myself, but either way, I knew I would be in Iowa City.

Cait's family welcomed me into their home, fed me a delicious home cooked meal on Wednesday and reminded me of the wonderful times that are to be had around the dinner table. While I watched her brothers pick on each other, and then Cait, and then all three children laugh at Grammy for a ridiculous nickname she recently created, I couldn't help but laugh. I got a side cramp from laughing so hard. At the same time, I was jealous. I wanted to laugh with my family.

The next morning we all ran the Turkey Trot (minus Grammy) and came home to coffee cake and the parade. Cait and I spoke to her parents and Grammy over coffee before taking our time getting ready for dinner. In the early afternoon we walked to the house next door and joined Cait's family and friends for a Thanksgiving feast for 40.

After dinner and a tryptophan daze I asked Cait what she was thankful for this year. She said, "I'm thankful that my grandma is here." My heart hurt just a little when she said it. She then asked me the same question. I told her, "I am thankful for the wonderful friends and family I have. This is the fourth year I haven't been with my family for Thanksgiving, but I am always with amazing people. And I know that no matter where I am in the country or the world, I will have someone to spend my Thanksgiving with, and that makes me really happy. I'm lucky."

What I didn't tell Cait is that since I have lived in Madison I have been invited to five different Thanksgivings. Five different and new people in my life have been kind enough to invite me to Thanksgiving, and that is a wonderful feeling. I am thankful for that.

Yesterday I drove to Milwaukee for the afternoon to see another friend from Thailand. I was once again reminded of the great people I have in my life and the friendships I have been able to maintain throughout the years.

Next year I want to be with my parents, my siblings, and my Ellie for Thanksgiving. I want to sit around the table and laugh at jokes and memories that I know. I want to write on the Thanksgiving tablecloth. But, I also want all of my friends to be there. So without my parents' approval, I am going to put out an open invitation for everyone to come to my house for Thanksgiving next year!

Happy Thanksgiving!

I Don't Do Scary

Last week I built a haunted house. No, I did not get bored and create a haunted house in my couch-less living room for Wilbur. I joined the Madison Jaycees, and their largest fundraiser is the annual haunted house they build in a park close to my house.

On Monday after work I arrived at the bare bones building in the park to find wood, props, plastic and tools spilling out of two semi-trailers. I found the man in charge of the haunted house and was promptly given the job of drilling plywood onto frames to finish the walls. I completed a few walls, helped mount them in the house and wandered through the black maze that was already feeling a bit scary. The lights were on, the pop music was blaring, everyone was talking and many of the walls were bare wood, but I could feel my heart rate increase. I don’t do scary. Even though the haunted house was far from scary, my mind was racing ahead to what it would look like, what the characters would act like and how dark each of the hallways would eventually be.

About a month earlier we had a meeting to discuss the haunted house. Jordan shared diagrams, maps, photos and internet print offs to explain exactly how people would walk through, the theme of each room, and where each character would be stationed. As he described the military lab gone bad, I had goosebumps. With every corner we turned in his description, I jumped when he mentioned a person popping out, up, in or down to scare the patrons. He chuckled at my reactions.

After the aggressive timeline for building was discussed, the volunteer sign-up sheet was passed around the table. I quickly volunteered to build every night after work and to sell tickets every night I could. Jordan noticed that I was consistently adding my name to the ticket booth space and asked me to be a ticket taker instead of seller. I asked him what that meant. He responded, “well, you’ll be in a military outfit with a gun. You have to take the patrons tickets, or security clearance as we are calling them. Remember it’s a military experimentation facility gone bad, so you need to be mean, yell at the people, scare them if you want and then eventually let them into the house. Make it fun for them.”

I responded, “fun for them? By scaring them? That sounds horrible! I’ll stick with selling tickets.”

Jordan laughed and the meeting was over.

Building the house continued on Tuesday and Wednesday after work. I painted walls and thresholds black, organized frightening costumes and props, helped to put the black roof on top of the walls and always carried a flashlight.

By the end of the night on Wednesday, I was petrified. The massive spider and body bags were in place, the doors were attached, and the house that I had navigated with ease on Monday had become a black maze of terror (for me). Let me set the scene and say that the pop music was still blasting, people were still talking through the walls and doors, but I couldn’t get out of my own head and stop myself from being scared.

When it came time to test the fog machine effect Jordan asked me to lock him in the house from the back. Everyone else was in the house with him, watching and helping to figure out the fog machines that were acting up. I gladly obliged and stood in the lighted hallway behind the house, listening to the chatter and relieved that I wasn’t standing next to the mutilated body on the surgical table with them.

After about ten minutes Jordan told me I shouldn’t be alone in the back and told me to come through and watch the fog machines do their thing. I hesitated. The haunted house was getting too scary for me, so I took two flashlights, slowly walked through the frightening maze of the white room, avoiding the splatters of blood until I found my way into the room with the rest of the crowd. Everyone laughed when I finally made it to them and then regretted the fact that no one had scared me. Within fifteen minutes, we called it a night and went home.

Thursday evening I backed out of helping at the haunted house, partly because I had a date and partly because I knew it would be too scary for me. On my date we talked about the haunted house and I described my incredible fear of everything and anything remotely scary. He told me about his obsession with horror movies.

Friday I returned to the park to work at the ticket booth. I sat in a tent at the bottom of the hill collecting eight dollars from each person and barely able to contain my desire to tell them to turn around and go home. Hundreds of people came to the house. Lots of children came to the house. I wanted them to stay at the bottom of the hill with me and keep them from being frightened, but they all came back with smiles on their faces! I put my best smile on and thanked them for the support, unable to grasp how anyone could find a haunted house to be fun.

I ventured up the hill about halfway through the night to grab myself a bottle of water. I walked past the line of people and scary ticket takers to the back of the building and the hallway that had once been lighted. I found a flashlight, took a bottle of water, found a soda for my fellow ticket seller, returned the flashlight and left the building. I turned left around the corner, carefully retracing my steps.

I jumped. I dropped the soda. I screamed.

It was a dad. He was wearing loafers, glasses, khakis and a North Face jacket.

He laughed and said, “I’m not supposed to be scary.”

“I know, I know, I just scare really easily. This is why I sell the tickets and don’t work inside.”

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This weekend I am in Tulsa and obviously unable to volunteer in Madison, and not surprisingly, I’m okay with that. The ticket booth is fun, but I will have plenty of time to sell tickets next weekend, and that khaki-clad man gave me enough of a fright to keep me on my toes for at least two weeks.

Dear Potential Suitor

Dear Potential Suitor,

You may have come across this blog by Googling me. You may have Stumbled Upon me or you may be madly in love with me from afar. Maybe you are a person from my past that closely follows my blog for no reason in particular or you might not even know me. There is a chance you could be doing some research after reading my incredible OkCupid profile and before sending me a message. No matter your reasons for ending up on this blog, I have something very important to tell all of you.

I am not a horrible person.

I realize that my recent Dating Game series of posts may come off on the verge of man eater status (especially the posts to come), but I promise this isn't the case.

I signed up for OkCupid with the very best of intentions: I want to meet people. Correction: I want to meet someone. The site came highly recommended by a few friends and I am new to the area. I don't have the time or energy to frequent bars in hopes of meeting the man of my dreams over dollar drafts.

When I wasn't fully invested in OkCupid, I removed myself from the site. I have been on the site, giving it my all in hopes of meeting that special someone. My hard work, witty messages and amazing photos paid off because I was asked on dates. This is where I would like to repeat: I am not a horrible person.

Every single date I went on, I went with the best of intentions. I went into every date with a perfectly planned outfit, minty breath, a powdered nose and a fresh application of lipstick or gloss (just as Melanie taught me to do back in high school). I went into every single date with butterflies in my stomach a racing heart and fidgety hands. I went into every date with nerves, excitement, anticipation, high hopes and high energy.

Every date I went on, I brought my A- game. I was on. I listened. I talked. I laughed. I questioned. And after every single date, I was exhausted. Dating is hard work. I go into every date wanting to give my date the chance he deserves.

So, potential suitor, don't be scared away by my writing. I write about what happens, and yes, everything I have written about has happened, but I change the names! Your identity is safe here. Date me, entertain me, and give me something to write about! Because yes, I will write about what we do. I will do everything in my power to make things work between us because I think you deserve that. And goodness knows, I know I deserve that! But sometimes things don't work out, and stories are created.

Potential suitor, I want to date you. I want to have fun stories to write about you. I want to have fun stories to write about us. I want to be so busy having fun with you that I don't have time to write. I want to have a really big crush on you. I want to walk my dog with you. I want to bake for you. Maybe I'll try to cook for you. Or better yet, maybe you will cook for me. I want to talk about my day at work with you. I want to not talk at all with you. I want to try something new with you. I want to not check my email with you. I want to go for bike rides with you. I want you to fix my sticky deadbolt for me. I want to drink wine with you. I want to let you drive me places- not after drinking the wine, of course. I want to laugh with you. I want to date you. As Jef-with-one-f Holmes from The Bachelorette would say, "I want to date you so hard."

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I think I would enjoy feeling a million emotions as well. Jef seems to be enjoying himself.


Love,

Meaghan

Training: Week Seven

I have invested in a foam roller. After speaking with my running coach and my yoga teacher, we narrowed down the nagging knee pain to a potential IT band issue. Sure enough, the foam roller has done wonders.

On Sunday I ran 9 miles in 90 minutes! Consistent ten-minute miles? I'll take it!

Sunday morning was freezing cold and windy, but I dragged myself out of bed and laced up my runners. After working 14-hour days all last week and another 6 hours on Saturday, the last thing in the world I wanted to do was wake up early on Sunday. But I did it. And gosh, I felt pretty great when I finished.

Heather is one week post-surgery, and according to her facebook posts and tweets she is slowly but surely recovering. She has yet to stay up past 8 pm and chat with me on the telephone, but I'm hoping she will call me soon.

Donate to CCFA! I am $2,415 short of my goal.

Anyone have any fundraising ideas? I need some help!

I don't even know where to begin...

Bachelor Number 3

Bachelor Numero Tres: The Fizzler

There once was a boy named Caleb. Caleb sent me a message on OkCupid. His photo wasn't bad, his profile was better, and his witty messages won me over. When he finally worked up the courage to ask me out to dinner I happily agreed. And so, on a Wednesday night we met at Abuelo's. (Strike #1)

If you don't know Abuelo's: The Flavor of Mexico, I'm a little surprised. To put it simply, there are about 40 locations nationwide and they are often located directly next to a P.F. Chang's. Now don't get me wrong, for a chain restaurant, it's good. But we aren't in Bricktown in Oklahoma City. We are in Madison, a town with hundreds of small, interesting, and creative restaurants to choose from. Instead, Caleb chose an over sized Mexican restaurant with dishes on the menu named Salmon Santa Cruz and Durango Burrito, with an entire page labeled Fajitas Fabulosas.

I got myself in the car, drove the 25 minutes out to Middleton, and got off the highway to find Abuelo's sandwiched between a Ruth's Chris Steak House, P.F. Chang's and Quaker Steak & Lube. I went inside and was not at all surprised to find how large everything was. Similar to the humongous horses of P.F. Chang's, or the 25-foot ceilings in The Cheesecake Factory, everything in Abuelo's was over sized. There was a fountain in the middle of the restaurant, and I will conservatively estimate that it was 12 feet in diameter.

I pulled my favorite move, showed up for the date about 15 minutes early, sat at the bar and ordered a drink. I ordered a Dos Equis. I felt like a child having a tea party with my parent's glassware, too large for my hands, when the bartender handed me the hugest beer in the heaviest glass I have ever felt. Great. Now I am going to look like some kind of crazy drinker when Mr. Number Three shows up and sees my swimming pool of beer. I sipped slowly, using both hands, of course.

Caleb was ten minutes late. (Strike #2)

I checked my telephone. The text message read: "I'm here. Let me know when you get here." I quickly glanced around the empty room, triple-checking the faces of the twelve patrons crazy enough to drive to Middleton to eat while being scattered around "The Flavor of Mexico." No, I didn't see Caleb. I texted him back: "I'm sitting at the bar."

Thirty seconds later, he walked through the doors.

He walked up to the bar introduced himself and said, "I was sitting in my car waiting for you to get here."

Sitting in your car? What a weirdo! You couldn't have walked inside alone?! 

Let it go, Meaghan. Give him a chance. Give him a chance. Be nice.

"Oh, haha. I have been here for a little while and I didn't check my phone! Whoops! Let's get a table."

We walked around the gigantic fountain while I carefully cradled my pool of beer with two hands. We sat down in a booth large enough to hold a party of ten comfortably and the waitress handed us our gigantic menus. Before I could look at the dishes offered I thought about what kind of printer must be used to print the menus. Does each restaurant have their own printer? How much would a printer like that cost? What size paper is this? Huge by Exceptionally large? Do they special order the paper?

Caleb was talking.

I snapped out of my concern with eating in a restaurant designed for giants, and started participating in the date.

The conversation flowed well, but not impressively. Caleb has a college education, a good job, a good family, friends, and he lives at home. Red flag! Red flag! 27 and living at home? And why? Because his lease ended and he decided to save money by living at home? Where do his parents live? Over 45 minutes outside of Madison! (Strike #3)

I ate way too much Mexican food, as the portions were scaled to match the menus, fountains and general decor. And when we embraced in an awkward one armed side hug outside of the restaurant I realized that through all of my outrageous judgements Caleb had managed to come out the other side unscathed and not half bad. We said goodbye, went to our respective cars and drove the twenty-five minutes home in opposite directions.

Within forty minutes I had a text message from Caleb telling me he had a great time.

Fifteen minutes later he asked me on a second date.

The invitation made me smile, so I said yes. (Apparently in my game, you are allowed more than three strikes)

When the day of our second date came around I was very excited to see him again. After a week of exchanging text messages I was looking forward to giving Caleb a second chance. I am always extremely nervous for dates and I'm sure I don't act like myself, maybe we both needed a second chance to see how things would go. Obviously living at home with his parents was a big no-no, but for the right guy, maybe even I could make an exception. Maybe.

At 10:37 am I received a text message.

"I'm so sorry, but I won't be able to do dinner tonight. I stayed home from work. I'm really sick. I'm sorry."

Shoot!

When he sent the text, I was really bummed. I had been looking forward to the date.

After that, we continued texting, he asked me out to dinner again, but the night he asked me I already had plans (read: another date).

I never made an effort to plan another night or text him back with any type of urgency or consistency. Texting is terrible. Then you put only one date into the relationship, and the texting is borderline painful.

Over the next week and some change the texts became less frequent. The last one he sent me was one week ago. I never responded.

The Fizzler.

Next!

Training: Week Six

Yesterday I ran 8.5 miles and then complained about the nagging pain in my knee.

Today Heather underwent surgery for a disease she has been dealing with for 9 years.

That puts things in perspective, no?

Donate to CCFA!

I have 14 days to raise $1,715.

Please send your thoughts and prayers Heather's way for a quick and easy recovery!

Training: Week Five

9 miles on Sunday

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(I didn't have as much fun as Phoebe)

Irritating pain in my left knee around mile 7

A very well-deserved shower

And another throwback photo

Flashlights up the nose? Classic.

I'm still training for my half-marathon, and still raising money for Crohn's and Colitis Foundation. I'm hoping to raise $2,700 by October 15 and $3,700 by December 2. Help a sister out?

Click here.

Bachelor Number 2

Welcome back to The Dating Game!

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In case you missed the first post in this series, Bachelor #1 was less than impressive. That sums that up. Moving right along...

Bachelor #2: The Musician

After three weeks of OkCupid messages, I bit the bullet and asked Ken if he would like to meet me for drinks. (Side note: when I told this story to Stephen, Maureen, John, and Jane, John smacked my hand when he heard I asked a boy out.) Ken accepted my invitation, and at my suggestion, we met at The Coopers Tavern, a bustling beer place on the square. I had never been to Coopers before, but when I arrived thirty minutes early, I was pleasantly surprised by the ambiance and please I had taken my office mate's recommendation 

I sat at the bar, ordered a beer and immediately eyed a very attractive man sitting kitty-corner from me. He wasn't the person I was meeting, but I couldn't help think that I wouldn't mind being stood up.

Fifteen minutes after our scheduled meeting time (which he had pushed back by an hour earlier in the day) I was still sitting at the bar, nursing my beer. I begrudgingly took out my telephone and as though it was magic, received a text message. Ken wrote: "I'm here. Where r u?"

The text speak made my hair stand on end. The fact that he didn't see the girl he was looking for, the girl who was sitting directly in front of the door looking exactly like her photo made me want to walk out (or scoot closer to cute kitty-corner boy). And the fact that he was 15 minutes late, well, we won't go there. I responded to the message: "I'm sitting at the bar- close to the front door."

Ken The Musician came from the back room and sat down in the empty chair next to me. My heart sank. His photos online must have been some strain of glamour shots, or of his extremely attractive twin brother, because he didn't look nearly as handsome in real life. Ken ordered a beer and the chatter began. As it turns out, he doesn't have a European accent. He wasn't born in some far off land of amazing accents and stories, he was born in small town Wisconsin. Online lie #1. When I asked where he was born and heard his response I said, "hmmm, that isn't in Europe" and I finished my beer.

To keep the conversation rolling, and to give the Online Liar another chance, I asked what type of music he taught at the university. I told him that I had taken piano lessons for fun in college, and absolutely loved it. His response was, again, less than impressive. "Well, technically I don't teach at the university. I am a substitute accompanist for the ballet classes. They only need me once or maybe twice a semester. Sometimes I teach kids too. Oh, and I go to Nashville a lot to play gigs." Online lie #2.

For some crazy reason I decided to give this boy one more chance. I asked Ken where he saw his career in five years. When he told me he had no desire to accomplish any more than he already had, I was ready to walk out. A liar without any dreams or goals? No, thank you. I didn't immediately jump up from my chair, giving Ken enough time to ask me about NYC. I had recently received a call from Phillipe asking me to return for fall fashion week, at the models' request, so I told him about my time working with the models. I told him that I was responsible for chauffeuring very famous Chinese models around. I told him "I know nothing about fashion, so I was shocked to find out how influential these women are in fashion!" Ken gave me the side eye, interrupted me, and in a quite accusatory tone said, "you aren't into fashion? Really? That's not what it looks like."

Oh no you dih-int!

{source}

You did not just accuse me of being fashionable and make it out to be a bad thing! I will take that as a compliment, and I will be on my way, sir.  

I glanced at my watch, realizing that being in bed would be far more productive and enjoyable than this conversation. It didn't take long for the evening to wrap up, although Ken The Lying Musician couldn't seem to take the hint of my clock-watching. I think he finally understood when I said, "gosh, look at the time! I have a very early morning tomorrow, I should really be heading home." 

We walked out of Coopers and I took a left toward my car. When we hit the corner I thanked Ken for the drink, kept my arms crossed, and crossed the street. I got into the car knowing that I would need to go back to Coopers, but not with Ken. I also knew that the feeling was mutual, and there would be no second date.

Three days later I received a text:

"It was really great to meet you. I enjoyed our time together. Would you like to go out again next week?"

What? Heck no! Were you not on that date?! It was terrible!

Side eye. {source}

My response:

"Thank you so much for taking me out, it was nice to meet you as well. Unfortunately, I didn't feel the connection that I was hoping for. I don't want to lead you on by going out again."

Next!

There are highs and there are lows

I may have upset a few people with my post about making friends. One person, who will remain nameless, called me for clarification. The post upset her for a few reasons. It made her sad to think that I was struggling with making friends. The post also resonated with her, and her current situation in a new place, trying to make friends. The post must have come off more sad than I had intended.

Yes, I am trying very hard to make friends in this area. And no, it isn't easy in any way, shape or form. But, I am doing my best to enjoy the ride.

With that said, I will admit that there are highs and lows. The past two weeks, in general, have been really great. I have been very busy with work and various social commitments. This weekend I was excited at the prospect of laundry, cleaning, yoga, and studying. Sure enough, Saturday afternoon rolled around and I found myself sitting in the parking lot of Bed Bath & Beyond in tears. I received this email from my mom:

The tears that had slowly been filling up my eyes during the week spilled right over the edge and onto my cheeks in the parking lot.

I intended for this post to have a much happier tone than the last, but unfortunately, today isn't one of the highs. I have had plenty of highs since moving to Madison, but today isn't one of those days. I want a hug. I think I'll have to settle for making cookies to mail to someone, in hopes of making his or her day a high.

Training: Week Three

I have nearly finished with three weeks of half marathon training! 

Last Sunday I went on a 6 1/2 mile run followed by a trip to Movin' Shoes for new Mizunos. 

The woman at the store asked me about running, my experience with Mizunos, and watched me walk. She brought out Adidas, Aasics, New Balances and Mizunos. I tried on all four pairs, jogged around the store and left with Mizunos. They are just too wonderful to get away from!

Not too shabby, right? {source}

Thursday evening I went out for three miles in my new sneaks, and it turned my entire day around. The shoes are amazing, and they make running better.

So far I have only converted my mother to the world of Mizuno, but the more the merrier!

Here is this week's half marathon throwback photo:

Me, Heather, Garvey and Katie from back in the day

 

Don't forget to check out my half marathon website and donate to CCFA! Thanks for everyone that has supported so far. I have raised over $700 already! I have to recommit on October 15, and my goal is to have $2500 by that date. Any little bit helps! $2 per mile? Only $26.20!

Later this weekend I will be giving you updates about more OKCupid dates. There have been three so far, and each has its own quirks and shenanigans. Stay tuned... 

How do adults make friends?

I'm trying really, really hard, but at the end of the day, I'm all alone.

Moving to a new city is very challenging.  I don't have any friends.  I have been through more emotional highs and lows than one would experience on a roller coaster.

Last week was great!  I was very busy.  I had rowing in the mornings, an ice cream date with coworkers, trivia night, and an online dating date. 

I was thrilled for the long weekend and the prospect of sleeping in and relaxing.  Saturday morning I rowed, took Wilbur for a long walk and then treated myself to a Groupon pedicure.  Immediately after my pedicure I went to buy myself speakers for my apartment.  Unfortunately, I walked into Old Navy first.  There were tons of sales going on (and a very attractive employee encouraging me to try on more items) and I got a little carried away.  Needless to say, I am still using my computer speakers to listen to music, but I am rockin' a great new top right now.

After my little shopping spree I headed to Capitol Square to work at Taste of Madison.  I was volunteering with the Jaycees at one of the beer tents.  I had researched the group at my mother's recommendation and signed up for the first activity I could.  I showed up to the beer tent in an awesome new pair of pants ready to serve some beer, enjoy the vocal stylings of Mr. Kix Brooks of Brooks and Dunn, and meet some new friends. 

Four hours later I had a minor crush on a repeat beer buyer with a perfect smile, and plans for an evening out with the Jaycees.  We traveled in a pack to a nearby brew pub for cheese curds and beer before going to the one and only nightclub in town, if you could even call it that.  I walked home a little after midnight to find Wilbur sleeping on my bed.  His plan for me to come home too late and too inebriated to notice was a failure, and he was immediately scolded and sent to his own bed.

The next morning I pried the pup out of his bed and for a walk so I could report to half marathon training before 9 am.  I ran my prescribed 4 miles and hung around for a while after the run in hopes of sparking an amazing friendship with one of my fellow trainees.  I was home before 11 am without any new BFFs. 

Wilbur and I took another walk, sans headphones and sunglasses, with the intention of locking eyes with anyone awesome and starting a great conversation, and naturally, a lifelong friendship.

We were home within an hour.

I vacuumed my apartment, cleaned my bathroom and kitchen, listened to music from my telephone horn and eventually got ready for the Day Before Labor Day Barbecue I was invited to.

An iPhone horn.  It only costs about $5 and it is really awesome.  If you can't control your spending at Old Navy and therefore don't buy yourself real speakers, I highly recommend this.  It's also really great for using in the bathroom when you take a shower. 

With the top down and my passenger seat empty I sang my heart out all the way to the middle of nowhere for the barbecue.  I brought my standard brownies and impressed the crowd with my Wisconsin beer.  Beer chicken, buffalo dip, tomato mozzarella salad, and many conversations later, I drove home.

Monday morning I was ecstatic to wake up, see the clock read 6:04 am and turn over.  After 10 am I jumped out of bed with the excitement of a child on Christmas morning.  With nothing on the agenda and an amazing night of sleep under my belt, the day was destined for greatness.  Wilbur and I walked the long way to the dog park.  No amazing connections were made on the way there, but the small pack of humans at the park looked promising. 

While awkwardly standing and watching our dogs sniff each other's butts, we humans laughed and made small talk.  My phone buzzed in my pocket.  A text message.

Heather sent a mass text that her surgery was scheduled. 

I hadn't finished reading when the only person that regularly calls me started flashing across my screen.

"Hi, Mom."

I clipped the leash to Wilbur and we left the park. 

After my mom accompanied me on my walk home and asked me more questions about Heather's surgery than I could answer, I was back in my air conditioned apartment and all alone again. 

I spoke to Heather just last week and she told me surgery was the next step, but having a date scheduled made it real.  My heart hurt.  My heart hurt for Heather.  I wanted a distraction from my racing head and hurting heart, but I didn't have one.  My day was open, and I was all alone in Madison.  I am always alone in Madison.

So this is where I ask for audience participation!  How is an adult to make friends in a new city?  I have been trying all sorts of things and I still haven't found that person or those people, so any advice will be welcomed with open arms.  How am I to make friends?

Half Marathon

One thing on my list of 25 things to accomplish before I turned 25 was running a half marathon.  Well, I did it.  I didn't do it well, and I did it a month after I turned 25, but I did it.  Before I turned 25, however, I committed to running a second half marathon.  This December I will be running a half marathon in Las Vegas.

One of my very best friends, Heather Palmer, asked me to run the race with her.  The half marathon is part of the Rock n Roll series and will raise money to support Crohn's and Colitis Foundation of America, a cause very near and dear to Heather's heart, and now mine.

Heather and I were best friends before we even had a choice!

In 2003 Heather was diagnosed with Crohn's disease.  At the time I knew nothing about the disease.  Over the years I have seen Heather endure flare up after flare up and her medications become stronger and stronger.  Just this afternoon she told me that it is official, she will be undergoing surgery for the disease next month.

Last month her younger sister Cici was also diagnosed with Crohn's disease.

When I agreed to run this race and raise money I was doing it to help a good cause.  I know how much the organization means to Heather and I wanted to be there to support her.  In just three months since I agreed to run, the race means so much more to me now.

Last week I started training for the race with the Madison team.  I wish I was able to train with Heather and her team, but texting her after my runs will have to suffice.  Together we will run in Las Vegas rocking matching outfits, as we have done for as long as we can remember.

Denim dresses: one of our matching outfits over the years.  We'll be bringing back the trend for the race.

If you feel so inclined, visit my fundraising page and donate to CCFA.  All donations will be greatly appreciated.

Last November in Thailand.

An orchid garden in Thailand

Hi, my name is Meaghan and I'm an online dater.

I did it.  After a few weeks on hiatus from the site, I chose to reactivate my OkCupid account.  I created the account back in May at the recommendation of a coworker and a friend.  Both said that it could be a great way to meet people.  So, I set up my account, tried to answer the questions to the best of my ability while attempting to be adorable, intelligent, charming and funny, all in a few sentences.  I posted a few of the best pictures of myself, and set my location to Madison.  Within days people were “checking me out” and rating me with 4 or 5 stars.  A few message conversations began, but it didn’t take me long to become bored and turned off by some of the crazy country boys.  It was going to be another two months until I moved, and the few message chains I started felt silly. 

When I arrived in Madison I reactivated my account for all of 30 seconds, before realizing that life was a little too busy to be flirting online. 

A week ago, I reactivated again, making a conscious decision to take it seriously.  Lo and behold, I was asked on a date!  Monday night I went on my first OKC date!

Rory picked the bar and suggested we meet at 6:30.  When I tweeted about how early that was I received an informational email from my mother explaining “that is how dating works.”  She told me that two people will meet for a drink after work, and if it is going well, then the two can choose to continue the date and move onto dinner.  My mother hasn’t worked a full-time job in this century, so I had to respond to her email by saying that I usually don’t get home until 6:30, so yes, that would be too early for me.  Rory had no problem meeting at 7:30.

Luckily I ate lunch with a friend of mine that day and she was able to keep me from wearing the outfit I was planning, because she knew the bar better than I did, and I would have been very overdressed for the locale.  I left my house a little after 7 in a pair of wedges, jeans and a black top.  Does the outfit sound familiar?  It’s because that is all I own, and all I continue to buy for myself!

I made sure to arrive early because I didn’t want to do the approaching.  Instead, I wanted to be approached.  I sat at the bar and ordered myself a beer, wishing the bartender wouldn’t ask to see my ID.  My avoidance of eye contact must have come off as guilt, because she asked to see my ID.  The second I let out “shoot!  I was hoping you wouldn’t ask me for it!” I knew I had said the wrong thing.  I tried to recover as gracefully as possible, but my nerves began to pour out in my explanation, “I’m sorry!  I just got my Wisconsin license today, so I am carrying around a very embarrassing 8 ½ by 11 sheet of paper and a NY license with a hole punched in it!  I was just hoping I wouldn’t have to pull out all of this stuff because I look ridiculous!”

I did look pretty ridiculous.  Unlike New York temporary licenses that are printed on official DMV cards about twice the size of a license, Wisconsin’s look like an amateur Word document, printed off of a cheap printer in my basement.  The bartender didn’t seem fazed by the documentation, but the man sitting next to me was intrigued. 

“Ooooh!  New York?  Really?  Look at that name!  You have so many consonants in it! Gs and Hs galore!”

I bit my tongue to keep from telling him that all Megans have one G in their names, the same number of Gs I have.  And there is only one H, a far cry from galore. 

Our conversation lasted only a few more minutes before he ran outside “for a fag.”  I didn’t turn around to make sure he was going out for a smoke. 

I was about halfway done with my beer when Rory came up from behind and asked, “are you Meaghan?”

Oooh, you’re cuter than the photos!  Yay!  Stay cool.  Stay cool.

“Yes.  It’s so nice to meet you, Rory.”

Our conversation immediately morphed into a competition of who had been to the better Dave Matthews concerts.  I was happy to be able to hold my own in a music conversation, but by 8:30, I was done talking about Dave, Carter, Boyd, and Stefan.  I tried to talk about his dog, but that lasted all of thirty seconds.  We were on to talking about our jobs.  He is a chef.  I decided to run with the food thing, and mentioned my inability to cook, but my love of baking.  Then he said something that made me wince as soon as the words hit my ears.  He said, “oh, yeah, you wrote about owning a bakery someday in your profile.”  Yikes.  Maybe I shouldn’t have let it bother me, but it irked me.  While I sat there trying to have a completely natural conversation, he brought up my online profile.  Obviously he and I had both looked at each other’s profiles- we wouldn’t be having this date had we not- but it felt so wrong when he brought it up in a face to face conversation.  I let it go, and carried on describing my elaborate plans for my bakehouse. 

When we had both finished our beers, Rory suggested we try a different place.  I went along, grateful for fresh air and a change of scenery.  When we stood up I realized how short he was.  5’10”?  You must have lied on your profile.  Jerk.  Yes, my wedges are exceptionally tall, but I’m not going to stop wearing tall shoes, and he isn't going to grow, so this may be a problem.  As we left the bar he politely held the door for me and then put out his elbow for me to lock my arm in.  I did, but I wasn’t impressed.  Instead of feeling that spark when our skin first touched, I felt nothing.  Nada. 

We walked two blocks to another restaurant/bar and sat outside with all of the other couples enjoying a Monday evening date.  We each ordered fancy drinks and continued our increasingly awkward conversation as the pauses between topics became longer. 

When the waitress came around to ask if we wanted more drinks I immediately said no.  I knew I was done drinking for the night, and I was ready to call it a night.  When I saw Rory’s hesitation, I told him that he was more than welcome to have another drink, but I was done for the evening.  He asked for the bill and paid while I went to the bathroom. 

I came back outside, thanked him for the drink and was ready to get back to my car.  But Rory had different ideas.  He wanted to go for a walk.  I was feeling exhausted, but I didn’t want to be rude.  We walked down the street, to the terrace, and down to the water.  When we arrived at the lake Rory wanted to go out on the dock.  So as I attempted to get myself onto the rickety dock, without falling, I noticed the bird poop… everywhere.  Rory wasted no time and sat right down on the edge of the dock.  I stood there for a minute, before asking if it was wet.  When he reassured me it wasn’t wet but made no mention of the bird poop all over the place, I realized I wasn’t going to get out of it.  I reluctantly sat down poop.

We continued to chat on the dock before I finally decided to call it quits and be very obvious about it.  I glanced at my watch and made it clear that it was time for me to go home.  We got off the dock, he walked me to my car, and we said goodnight.  And that was that.

Next!

Musical Memory Lane

I was running along the lake last week listening to my iPod shuffle.  There aren’t many songs on my shuffle, and I basically know the playlist by heart, but I hadn’t listened to it in a while, so one song caught me off guard.  It was one of Beyonce’s songs from her latest album, 4.  While the song is an upbeat and fun song, I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with a déjà vu-like feeling.  Of course for the rest of my run I was stuck thinking about this post, and how much I associate music with different situations.

 

I have a bad habit of becoming obsessed with songs and albums.  You know how when you turn on a top 40s radio station you can count on one of three songs being played at any moment?  That top 40 radio station is my life.  I don’t only listen to top 40s hits, but I do obsess over songs and albums.  At any time in my life, I can pinpoint the three songs I was listening to. 

I had a coach in college who told me about life soundtracks she made.  For certain semesters, seasons or years she would make a soundtrack.  As soon as I heard this, I wanted to steal the idea.  But as soon as I went to put it into action, I realized my problem.  I couldn’t create a soundtrack, I could create a single, and an EP if I was lucky.  I quickly gave up that plan, and went on with my music obsessing ways. 

When Beyonce’s beat started filling my ears, I was in Garden City.  I was running.  I was running as many laps as I could before I absolutely had to go into John and Jane’s house to shower.  I didn’t want to get ready for another funeral.  I didn’t want to wear another black dress.  I didn’t want to be in St. Joseph’s again.  And I really didn’t want to cry anymore. 

It’s a bummer, because I loved that album.  I loved that album until I ruined it.  At the time, it was the best thing that could have happened to me.  I must have listened to Schoolin' Life on repeat over 15 times while I ran one morning.  It kept me from crying, but now it makes my heart hurt. 

I have songs that remind me of everything.  And it’s what makes putting my iPod on shuffle so much fun.  So, let’s take a little trip down Meaghan’s Music Memory Lane.

The Ben Folds Live album:

This album will always remind me of the summer after my junior year in high school.  I am sitting in Jen’s black VW Cabrio.  The top is down, and I don’t know where we are going, but does it matter?  We are in high school in a convertible, and there aren’t parents around.

Milkman:

Milkman is what is known as a mash-up artist.  Take completely unrelated songs and mash them together and you ended up with some of the most awesome and fun music to party to.  Josh introduced me to Milkman while I was in Thailand, and of course I went through my obsession.  Now I cannot listening to a song without being transported to my 625/55 house in Piman Chon 1, listening to the music especially loudly on my impressive sound system and drinking Leo beer with Cait and Paul. 

James Taylor's New Moon Shine Album:

This is the song that Garvey and I had a dance to.

This album throws me back to Annapolis, dancing in the family room.  I can feel the afternoon sun beaming through the windows as Garvey and I performed our choreographed dance that he refused to remember the steps to, in hopes of making my parents laugh, and infuriating me.  Then there was the JT concert the family attended at Tanglewood, and one of my favorite weekends in my entire twenty-five years. 

Brett Dennan:

Somehow I came across Brett Dennen immediately before I began traveling alone last fall.  I had four albums downloaded and loaded on my iPod before I took off for Koh Lanta.  As I lounged on the beach, studying for my scuba exams Brett Dennen filled my ears.  And now I cannot listen to that red headed artist without seeing the Thai coastline, tasting the plastic of a regulator in my mouth, feeling the sun on my face, and glancing down at my arm hoping to see freckles that have long gone since my return to a non tropical locale.

Like a G6:

There was a brief period of time in Thailand when I had a cool phone.  Cool is a relative term as my students with iPhones quickly began to outnumber those without.  I thought my telephone was cool because it held music and had a small speaker.  So, when Paul and I both became obsessed with the song Like a G6 it only seemed logical to illegally download it and put it on my phone.  When Paul and I got into his Suzuki Caribbean on our way to pick up Cait for a coworker’s party with our matching telephones and playlists, the stereo wasn’t working.  What else was I to do than play Like A G6 on repeat from my phone?  And when the car broke down, I continued to repeat the same song.  Looking back, I’m surprised that Cait continued to be my friend after being forced to listen to that noise in a AC-less car for over two hours...

Call Me Maybe:

This is our HBB version, check it out.

I was first introduced to this song through facebook stalking.  Heather had posted the video on Cici’s wall, and, well, the rest is history.  I was quickly obsessed with the song along with the rest of the world.  And in similar fashion, I preferred the Justin Bieber lip syncing version to the actual music video.  When my boss at Hot Blondies Bakery began talking about her love of Justin Bieber, I immediately shared the video.  Who doesn’t love the Justin-Selena romance?  Sure enough, Laura was hooked.  And when Lorin returned from vacation she was thrilled to jump on the bandwagon.  When the cinco de mayo party rolled around, it only made sense to create our own music video, German videographer/ commentator and all.  For the rest of my short-lived career as a baker, the song was a constant presence in my brown sugar- filled life, and will always be associated with my days at HBB.

Fergie's The Dutchess:

I went through a ridiculous time during my sophomore year in college.  As though taking 18 credits and rowing for more than 20 hours a week wasn’t enough to keep me busy, I began working at the Starbucks on campus.  I absolutely loved my job.  And when I developed a minor crush on the fitness center’s evening supervisor, I would do anything to pick up hours.  And when my minor crush became a serious flirt fest, I would do anything I could to stick around the fitness center after I had closed the coffee shop.  Naturally, I took to working out even more.  After I would finish closing up I would bat my unimpressive eyelashes and head to the locker room to change into possibly my third workout outfit of the day.  I would then jump on the elliptical and listen to Fergie’s album, The Dutchess.  I would sweat a little, jam out to Fergie a lot and hope that Matt would come to “check on the floor."  The album played a pretty big role in the rest of my life that year, from dance parties to driving to practice, but from the moment I hear one of those songs begin I am transported to the same elliptical, crushing hard on a completely unavailable boy.  I think I’m still crushing…

I have many more songs to add to this post, but I think that is enough for now.  Maybe a second installment?