Friday, June 19, 2009

The new cancer

You know how when someone gets diagnosed with cancer, or someone dies unexpectedly, or someone goes through a bad breakup after the initial "I'm so sorry for you" phase you start to only think about how the situation is awkward for you? It sounds terrible, but it's just how it really is. Like when someone gets cancer you can no longer talk about the future. If I were to say, "When I'm older I'm going to have sex with one of my son's friends, but only one so that the others continue to try for the rest of my lifetime to bone me out of sheer competition.", it's uncomfortable because the cancer patient might not get a chance to do that. There's a dark cloud over everything. When people die unexpectedly eveyone's all about living for today, but really I don't feel bad that I've watched 3 entire seasons of Weeds since Monday. It's still an accomplishment. People going through break-ups are somehow the worst because you can't talk about anything without it somehow relating to their ex-lover.
"Hey, do you want a coke...why are you crying"?
"Joseph always had that ridiculous white ring of coke around the inside of his nose".
"I was just asking if you were thirsty..."

I'm not going through any of these 'terrible' things at the moment, but I've realized that I have begun to make people really uncomfortable. When out with friends they will ever so softly ask, "Megan, where do you want to eat? Where CAN you eat?". It's very strange. I really noticed it the other day when my friend Jen said,"I really want a grilled cheeee- sorry". She wouldn't even say cheese in front of me. Cheese isn't a bad word! I can hear it, I will wattch someone eat it, and I'll even allow it in my house. I'm not crazy and I don't have cancer. There's no need to tip toe around me. I can't eat dairy, no big deal. Please treat me like a normal person. I am lucky enough to have one friend that treats me normally. This friend navigates me to the dairy section last week to say, " I don't need anything, I just wanted to stare at all of the things you can't have". What a sweetheart. She scoffs at my lactose intolerance and I laughed at her when she had a stroke. Friends forever. When I get cancer I hope she makes fun of my bald head. I'll sure as hell make fun of hers.

Monday, June 15, 2009

In the arms of an angel

Recently I was out with some friends at a bar where I was drunker than should've been and mad at the fella I was with. Finding myself in this situation I did what I do best, I found the loneliest looking 40 something sitting at the bar and turned on my mad flirting skills (which aren't so much 'mad' as they are incredibly sad. In fact, my mother worries). From what I recall the rapport was very good with this gentleman, let's call him Pete (Pete possibly being his real name, but again I am foggy on the details). I learned a lot about Pete in a short amount of time; he was divorced with 2 children, he had rescued a lab/pit bull mix (cue the Sarah McLachlan music!), and most importantly, Pete had just opened a burger joint called 'Fat Patties'. Since Pete and I had bonded so well I decided to talk to him about my outrage with Steak'n'Shake, and how they wouldn't put soy cheese on a burger for me. After a crass joke about lactose intolerance that I refuse to repeat because I believe that I should never have had to hear it in the first place (I am a lady after all), pete told me that if I came into his restaraunt he would put soy cheese on my burger." Fuck those codes" said Pete. Twas such a romantic gesture. Pete also said something about the two of us taking his dog for a walk, and I agreed (of course), and set a date for him to expect me.

I almost went too. Almost... In the end I was too worried that I would actually end up walking this gentleman's dog and in true pushover fashion meeting his kids and ex-wife, and then, before I knew it I would be marrying this gutsy hamburger entrepreneur. It's disappointing because who knows when an oppurtunity will arise like this again. I just have to keep telling myself; there's always another bar, always another hamburger joint, always another lonely 40 something desperate for a young girl who will walk with him and his dog...
"Spend all your time waiting for that second chance
For the break that will make it ok
There's always some reason to feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day...
In the arms of an Angel, fly away from here..."
-Arms of An Angel by Sarah McLachlan.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Dairy-free fan mail

It took me some time but I finally got around to writing my letters to fellow lactose intolerant celebrities.  I decided to hand write the letters for more charm.  After 6 letters my hand hurts like hell and all charm is gone.  I had not written a letter to a celebrity since I was 9 years old when I wrote to Kristi Yamaguchi, the figure skater.  This time around it felt a lot more uncomfortable and I think my letters ended up looking like they had actually been written by a 9 year old.  Either way, I think I got my point across.  


With my 6 letters written to near perfection here are some of the highlights:


When I say they are written to 'near perfection' I mean instances like the 3 attempts to spell 'acquaintance' in my letter to Anne Hathaway.  Or the crossed out their to there to Orlando Bloom.  I'm just weird about grammar, I hope they appreciate I went through the trouble. 


Mainly there was a lot of me being as awkward in writing as I am in real life.                              

         -To Katey Sagal (Peg from Married with Children) I wrote 'I still think of you when I see leopard print'.                          

     -To Jessica Alba I told her that her baby was cute and that I hoped she could still eat cheese.    

 - I'm weirdly obsessed with Mary-Kate and Ashley so I was most excited to write her.          I proclaimed  my love to her and I told her how much I loved 'New York Minute' I told her to "fuck the critics" and make more movies.     

-My weirdest letter by far was to Halle Berry.  Her letter must have been written last.  I wrote to her, "I know you just had a baby, wasn't it weird that you could produce milk but can't digest it yourself.  I cannot wrap my mind around this".


I tried to make a unique sign off for every letter.  

         -Let’s make this world dairy free for you and me

- Your fellow sufferer of a dairy free life

         -Your dairy free acquaintance


All of my letters had some sort of request for the celeb to speak out more about their ailment.  If you were to read all of the letters I think you would wonder if my main goal is to get a restraining order.  At least then I’ll know the letters were read.  

Friday, June 5, 2009

All by myself

I need supporters. I need help.

My finding of Asian to lactose intolerant ratio was impressive but I looked through my phone and my facebook friends and realized that I have no Asian friends, which was shocking. I can't just approach some random Asian person on the street and ask them to join my fight against milk products. I feel like this would be creepy if not completely racist.

I've put some serious thought into this and I can't believe I hadn't thought of this before, but what about celebrities?! Celebrities love to talk about what's wrong with them. In fact, they feel entitled to do so. I feel that most celebrities get excited when something goes wrong, it brings them back into the limelight for a short time. How excited was Brooke Shields when she was diagnosed with post-partum depression? Too excited for a depression diagnosis? I guess not. So, I googled lactose intolerant celebrities, and other than a finding of Ashley Olsen I'm pretty disappointed. All I found were ladies that I have no significant feelings for; Halle Berry, Anne Hathaway, Katy Segal, and Jessica Alba. I don't care. There was only one guy I found! Is there a chance for a lactose free kind of love??? Probably not. Orlando Bloom? He wasn't even the cutest non-human in the Lord of the Rings movies. Am I right?

I'm gonna start mailing letters tomorrow though. I've got to take what I can get, that's what my mom's always telling me.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Something like the Riverfront Times

I am not about to start reviewing restaurants just because I’m an unemployed college graduate and I thus have nothing better to do with my time, but I will review one right now because I’m an unemployed college graduate with nothing better to do with my time.

There are several reasons why I would tell you not to eat at the Delmar Restaurant and Lounge in St. Louis. There are the normal reasons like poor service, questionable cleanliness, randomness of the menu, etc. The bathrooms are gross and the toilets are at such a height that it is impossible for a girl of 5’6” to properly hover. But there is one good thing about this eatery that shines among a sea of negative critiques; when ordering a burger, the Delmar Restaurant and Lounge will not put cheese on it unless requested. I like this trait for the obvious reasons. Others would probably say that it is cheap of them, and if you are not lactose intolerant this may just be another negative tally for the restaurant. Choose what you will, but you should probably check it out for the unbelievably slow paced bartender alone.