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Ooooh, the happy taste of an iced mocha when the air is GENUINELY HOT as you leave your house in the morning.

There are few things that really compare to the flavour and the temperature and the joy. Generally, I don’t like anything as sweet as a mocha can be, but some days? Yes! PERFECT.

The best iced mocha I ever had was after giving up coffee for Lent about five years ago. The morning my fast ended, I woke up (I was on vacation in Kelowna) and insisted that my friend drive me IMMEDIATELY to Starbucks. I don’t think he really wanted to go, but I’m a hard girl to refuse when I’ve been waiting for something a long, long time.

I ordered an eight-shot iced venti half-sweet nonfat mocha. They asked me to repeat it four times, not because they didn’t understand, but because they didn’t WANT to understand.

EIGHT SHOTS OF ESPRESSO. WITH MOCHA. AFTER 40 DAYS WITHOUT COFFEE.

Needless to say, I was a really inspiring person until about 2 pm, when I dissolved into a pool of tears, and insisted that we “get more… can we get more? I need some more. How about we get more. How about now?”

Totally not an addict, though. Promise.

Tina asked me to mention eight random things (about me.)

I have in fact done this meme before (and now that I think about it, I do it pretty much every day, right here at this little website), but she’s cute and a great writer, so I give her a pass with a smile.

I’m going to try and think of things I’ve never mentioned here before for this particular round of random-icity. But since I’m an exceptionally dull girl, I may well fail.

1. When I was little, I wanted to grow up to be 8′9″, and play quarterback for the Miami Dolphins.

2. I have a lazy eye… it’s my left one, I believe (though I’m never really looking at myself when it goes askew, so I’m not totally sure.) It only shows up when I am devastatingly tired or horrifyingly nervous — and the latter, I can control. Only one person has ever remarked on it at length to me, and I ended up disliking him for many more reasons than that.

3. I have a tiny birthmark in the shape of Syria on my butt.

4. When I was a camp counselor, the guy counselors I worked with would challenge me to a game of “shot for shot” — you punch each other in the arm until one of you “gives” because it hurts too much. This is pretty damn stupid, of course, but I learned how to block out pain (to some degree) when I would get punched, which I thought it was impressive at the time…. along with a black and blue arm. I know, I know.

The thing is, I also learned how to hit really, really hard. A year or so later, when I was in college, one of my guy friends attempted to sneak up on me when I was walking to the store at night. As soon as his hand touched my shoulder, instead of screaming, I wheeled around and broke his nose.

5. I have won several pepper-eating contests.

6. As a kid, I despised all breakfast foods, except fruit, and the occasional bowl of Harvest Crunch Original Flavour granola, or Life cereal. Now, I still feel ill if I eat before 9 or 10 am, but I loooove me all the breakfast-y things (except, ironically… cereal.)

7. I can snap my fingers really, really loudly.

8. I have no baby toenails.

Random enough for you?

I’m not going to tag anyone, but I do enjoy a game of tag.

Not the ones upstairs, mind you. They’re fabulous.

And though I don’t really know the guy downstairs, he has a nice… car?

No, the neighbours of mine that suck are right next door, and they like to have parties every few months that pretty much redefine what it means to be a public nuisance.

I don’t mind parties.

I don’t even mind people being loud at parties. I think that comes with the territory. I do think you should probably head inside after midnight if it’s not a weekend and try and keep your noise localized, but I’m not going to sweat it if you’re just chatting and laughing in your backyard. Really. I’m a patient neighbour.

These boys, however, don’t just chat or laugh. No… that would be too simple. Too calm. Too ordinary.

They do some weird combination of Fight Club/A Clockwork Orange/Saturday Night Fever/Total Recall.

So, in honour of idiot party people everywhere, my Top Eight Things Not To Do at House Parties as Demonstrated by The Jackasses Next Door.

1. Don’t have your house party on a Monday night. That’s just odd. No one with a life parties on a Monday night when it’s not a) the playoffs; b) a major holiday; or c) no, there is no c). JUST STOP IT.

2. If you’re going to get started at 8 pm, maybe try setting a goal of kicking everyone out by 2 am. JUST NOT 4 AM. Because when the sun comes out, so does Evil Meg Who Has Not Slept.

3. If you have one REALLY LOUD FRIEND WHO LIKES TO SCREAM EPITHETS AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS AT 2:30 AM, maybe keep him inside as much as possible. Especially since he does it every time. The same guy. The same word. At the same time, approximately. I bet he’s even wearing the same pants. I know I had the same heart attack when I woke up.

4. If you’re going to wrestle, try and do it away from a table full of bottles. The table might fall down and make a sound akin to a wrecking ball taking out a china shop. And then you’d be rolling around in broken glass. No… wait. Go ahead.

5. I know it’s tempting to lock out Loud Swearing Guy at 3 am… I mean, after all, he is Loud Swearing Guy. But he’s going to bang on the door until you let him back in, which will result in further heart attacks for your neighbours.

6. If you’re going to make out, can you try not to do it directly under the porch light? Ecccch. I haven’t even seen that much tongue in a butcher shop.

7. If you’re going to tell really loud stories, make sure they’re interesting and not about a) how many push ups you can do; b) what you ate earlier that day; or c) how drunk you are. Because a) you’re lying; b) you’re just going to throw it up in about an hour; and c) WE KNOW.

8. I’m not remotely afraid of you… I just think you’re really stupid, and I have no desire to go over and convince you to shut up. But I would happily send a large, intimidating boyfriend who would limit the conversation. Please don’t have any more parties until I meet him. Thanks!

I can remember being 24… kind of. I can remember being loud… like, yesterday. But there are limits to what even the most jolly insomniac patient girls can handle.

And the next time you push my buttons that hard, I’m gonna wake Dean up.

You don’t want to play with him.

1. You believe J.K. Rowling isn’t going to write any more Harry Potter books.

2. You think Larry King is an actual journalist.

3. You think I can’t tell you’re not wearing a bra. Or panties. Or a bathing suit with a lining (GUYS!!)

4. You think no one knows you bought your “vintage” t at the Gap.

5. You think you can wean yourself off of Facebook.

6. You think “neurotic” really translates into “cute” (as in every romantic comedy.)

7. You think Bjork isn’t totally in on the joke.

8. You think your mother is ever going to stop doing that.

9. You think the Diet Coke and the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups cancel each other out.

Scientology. Just in general.

People who use Internet Explorer. Exclusively. It’s like saying you’ll only drive a Pinto because you like the “ride.”

Why would anyone drink something called a “Slurpaccino?” It sounds like an Italian curse word.

Why do coin-op dryers always stop just before things are dry? HOW DO THEY KNOW?

Tea Tree oil. Is it made from tea? Trees? Does tea grow on trees? Or bushes? I guess “Bush Tea Oil” is a little less appealing.

The appeal of Jay Leno, Jared Leto, or Janet Reno. And also… why the hell did that sentence make me laugh so much?

Why has no one started an industrial/ballet band called Tulle? I just laughed at myself again.

How are things like fungus and bacteria and mold and jellied animal juices the most expensive foods in the world? It’s like a raccoon opened a gourmet grocery, shortly after raiding someone’s garbage.

meg’s feet were here

People always tell me that Internet activities slow down in the summertime, because everyone is spending their time outdoors and heading off on vacations.

Which is true… to a point.

But the almighty Facebook has proven to me that MY contention was right all along. People ARE online all summer — posting tanned photos of themselves, updating their statii to reveal their next sunny destination, gloating about how they’re not at work… you name it.

And some of us who take our vacations in the fall (Cali! September! Woo!) are still at work, eating salad at our desks, surfing about the Web on our lunch hours, and wondering how people’s statii keep changing when they’re supposedly “at the beach.”

So, whether you’re sitting around in your bikini “just taking a moment online”, or sitting at work basking in air conditioning, I’ve got some questions…

1. Are you actually going anywhere on vacation this summer?
2. Are you going where you would ideally go? Where WOULD you ideally go?
3. What’s the weather like where you are?
4. How do you wish the weather was where you are?
5. What is your most important piece of summertime apparel?
6. What item of summertime apparel do you wish other people would STOP wearing?
7. Do you own Crocs?
8. Do you want to apologize?
9. Has the amount of time you spend online changed radically, or are you just pretending to be outside more often?
10. Mojito?

And remember: for every one of you that doesn’t answer, I’ll flail at a butterfly.

But it’s brewing.

I can hear it.

It’s kind of slow, but it’s happening… and I know it will be good. Or at the very least, stimulating. Or mildly agitating?

My coffeemaker is Stanley Kubrick.

It’s interesting… I can actually go without coffee for days on end, as long as I’m not focused on skipping my daily cuppa(s). If I make some big deal of it, though, I am all headaches.

Which means the addiction is purely psychological. Which is, for the record, HOW I LIKE MY ADDICTIONS.

Ahem.

Have you ever had a huge craving for something, and then you get it, and it’s completely disappointing?

This always happens with me and muffins. I can be craving, say, a big fluffy blueberry one, or a raspberry bran one, and when I go to actually GET said muffin, two things always occur:

1. The muffin I actually want is not available that day.

2. The muffin I get is overbaked/oily/full of random flavours/really gross.

I also experience this odd letdown when I go shopping.

I can see a million things I want when I don’t have money, but when I need to get something specific or I just want to buy something pretty, there is nothing available, and I end up with some odd item I never want to wear.

AND it happens with movies.

I get all excited to see something, and it’s nothing like I thought it would be. I hate it when I get drawn in by a clever trailer… a trailer that ends up containing the sum total of all the decent moments in a film.

Maybe my expectations are too high.

Maybe I’m too much of an idealist.

Maybe nothing will ever live up to my dreams, and I will always strike glancing blows on the surface of happiness.

Nah.

TEN THINGS THAT ARE ALWAYS AS GOOD AS I EXPECT THEY WILL BE:

1. Coffee (I just got some. Mmm.)

2. The beach.

3. Dancing like a goofball at weddings.

4. John Cusack. Even when the movie sucks. (See: Serendipity.)

5. What Not To Wear.

6. Fish and Chips.

7. The Colbert Report.

8. Raspberries picked fresh.

9. Long drives with people I love.

10. Finishing a blog post.

If someone asked me to describe my current state in one word, I think I’d have to say, “REALLY SUPER MUCH AWAKE.”

Wait. That was four words.

The thing is, when you are this AWAKE you tend to have a lot of random and unconnected THOUGHTS flowing (dancing? bouncing? driving recklessly?) through your mind. When this occurs, the only thing you can do is try and clear a few away to either settle down the activity a little, or make room for MORE.

WHEEE!

So.

THE LAST SEVEN UNCONNECTED AND RANDOM THOUGHTS I HAD

1. I don’t like Diet Coke AT ALL. In fact, I get confused when I see people drinking it, because it tastes like chemicals mixed with chemicals mixed with acid. Blecccch. I don’t care if it has 1 calorie (or whatever the heck the count is.) It makes my mouth feel like a nuclear testing lab.

Using that logic to justify drinking something horrible is like saying you should eat more dirt because it’s “natural.” Go ahead. Have my bowl of soil.

2. Patchouli is potentially one of the worst “chosen smells” on earth. I mean, it doesn’t compete with sulfur or rotten eggs (wait, same thing) or sour milk, but you don’t go buy sour milk incense, either. You don’t choose a votive candle that smells like shoes. You don’t dab on a bit of Eau de Industrial Waste.

To me, Patchouli smells like something that has been left sitting in a damp spot for about a week, and then set on fire.

When something smells bad, that’s nature’s way of saying NO. Not, “Hey, this would make my dorm room smell more like home.”

3. Did you know that I cried at the movie Babe? I mean, I WEPT. Every time the piglet talked, I was literally sobbing. I still don’t understand why this happened. Was I overwhelmed by cuteness and sentimentality? Was I set adrift by the idea of orphan pigs? Do I have an emotional attachment to James Cromwell? I don’t know. And I also cried at Charlotte’s Web!

Wait a second! Is this leftover bacon guilt?

4. Why do computer speakers near me go TAT TAT TAT TAT TAT right before I get a text message or a phone call? That’s just weird. It’s like foreshadowing, except that it’s just a really random noise, and not some speech by a mysterious character in a novel alluding to “things your mother may not have told you about Barrie House… and the basement. And Jed, the gardener with the missing fingers. And your Aunt Louise.”

Creepy.

5. Air conditioning is rarely “just right.” Usually it’s not enough, and you’re sitting around feeling like a crockpot, or you’re freezing up like a tray of ice. Crockpot or ice cube tray. Which would you choose? I think I’d choose the ice cube tray, because then I could be added to a mojito. And swimming around in a giant mojito sounds way better than sitting in a giant vat of pot roast.

What?

6. Cooking terms make me giggle. Coddle. Curdle. Julienne. Chiffonade. Poach. Hahaha. Those are funny words. Seriously. I typed them while laughing. Oh! One more: Zest. Hahaha.

7. Sometimes, when I’ve had a lot of coffee, colours seem brighter. People seem louder. I seem smarter. And that’s when I know it’s ALL AN ILLUSION.

And that’s really all I’ve got.

(mostly)

But…

This paragraph in Cary Tennis’s latest column at Salon.com is sheer brilliance:

“… there are alarming similarities between moms and seasoned con artists. Both are brazen. Both act as if there is nothing wrong with what they are doing. They both tend to take charge in stressful situations whether they have the required expertise or not, and both are used to coming up with bogus excuses for doing things their own way.

They think on their feet with blazing speed, and their complicated pseudo-logic is known to cloud the mind. Con artists and moms both have elaborate sets of rules that don’t make sense. They both engage in hocus-pocus crazy talk. And they both know how to seize authority through sheer force of will, and in seizing authority paralyze the opposition.”

Ha!

(I love you, Mama!)

1. I MUST learn to salsa and merengue. Not make salsa and meringues, mind you, because I know how to do both of those things. Girl needs to DANCE.

2. I MUST learn how to bake a decent loaf of bread. NOT in a breadmaker. With my own wee hands. A happy, fluffy loaf with a nice crust and soft insides. Much like myself. What?

3. I MUST learn about the stock market. Not because I want to become a day trader (please, like I don’t stress out enough about using ATMs) but because it just feels like something a grown woman should know, you know?

4. I MUST learn how to cut hair for men. I think this would be a handy skill to help out the non-metrosexuals in my life who just need a trim. But I’d still try and refer them to a stylist, first.

5. I MUST learn how to freakin’ program a DVD player.

6. I MUST learn how to take a decent photo with a decent camera. I remember taking some photography classes in high school as a part of graphic arts (or something like that), but the only thing I learned was that darkrooms get way more trippy when you play the Doors under the red lights, and have to navigate around a very, very stoned person to develop your pictures.

7. I MUST learn how to argue nicely with the opposite sex. Sound ironic? Arguing nicely? I think it’s possible. I want to eliminate any vestiges of passive-aggressiveness or scathingness or lameness from the way I deal with conflict. And I also want to learn how to LET. THINGS. GO.

8. I MUST learn how to drive. I KNOW. It’s just stupid.

9. I MUST learn how to actually read books before I fall asleep at night without wanting to sit and write for two hours once I’m done. I’ve totally lost the ability to escape into things.

10. I MUST learn how to save more effectively for large purchases, like the new bed I need (in order to not become croissant-spine) and travel… and the new laptop that will eventually be necessary.

What do you want to learn this year?