Random Thoughts

Here’s Me Being “Vulnerable”

It’s funny how I started a blog where I tell you what’s going on in my life (and basically share the personal thoughts that run through my head, when I’m the type of person who likes to categorize herself as a reserved, passive, and introverted individual).  Granted, I have not been keeping up with this project lately, as I have found that a little break to kind of look back and evaluate my life was needed…oh, who am I kidding?  I just got lazy and decided not to write.  But just as I am awake at 3 am in the morning, something urged me to wake up this page again.  I decided to renew my subscription and go back to writing.  But this time I want to do it differently.

What goes on in Befriending Murphy is going to be more honest.  No more justifying my actions or including disclaimers.  No more trying to always sound positive, because hey, I’m actually a realist who sometimes likes to lean more on the half empty side of things, than the half full side of things.  Even though it might not be the healthiest way to think, it’s still is a part of me (like even though it might not be the healthiest to complain all the time, but it’s good to vent).  I genuinely want to start sharing both the good and the bad stuff.  Or share as best as me, Megan, can, as a reserved and insecure human being.

So, as every great journey starts, here’s to Chapter 1: “Hi, my name is Megan.  Here’s me being vulnerable.”


The Way I Feel Is Inevitable

Before the start of my sophomore year of High School, I told myself that this would be my year. The year where I would be more outspoken, and show others that in one summer I had transformed into this confident lady.  But the truth was, I just wanted to prove to myself that I could be like everyone else: have an opinion, be heard, get noticed.  Because in reality, I did not have anyone to prove this new and glorious self to.  If I was not heard or noticed the year before, how could my fellow sophomore class know that my quiet and dry personality had evolved exponentially?

The first step was to participate in class more.  However, that did not work out so well.  This is because in all of my classes, I had no idea what was going on.  Every question that the teacher asked, I had no idea how to answer it.  If I did, there was always someone else who would speak up before me and steal my answer! (because mind-readers exist).  Or, if I did know the answer, I would end up being wrong.  For example, in one of my classes we were playing Jeopardy.  A question was stated and I knew the answer!  This was it, I would win it for my team and get noticed, be seen.  I shot up my hand so hard into the air that my desk fell forward, taking me with it, and I hit the ground with a huge “thud.”  Everyone looked at me, waiting for my answer, not caring that I had just flipped over in my desk.  I answered the game question, which ended up being wrong.  Moral of the story: Don’t participate in class.

Second semester of sophomore year, I decided to tryout for the school’s dance team.  The dance team was filled with popular girls and because I made it, I thought I had become one.  But I was just seen as the extra dancer in the back.  And in the dance team yearbook photo, everyone’s name was printed under the group picture, except mine.  I took it personally, but I guess I wasn’t that hurt about it.

As High School continued, so did I.  But this time I stopped trying to prove things.  Instead, I just went through the motions.  Not because I believe you don’t always have to prove something to yourself or others, but because others could sense when you’re trying too hard.  It’s like everyone is Spider-Man and has their spidey-senses tingling.  High School is a time where everyone wants to fit it, and I was trying so hard to fit in everywhere.  I was trying to be like everyone else, and wasn’t getting anywhere.  So might as well stay unnoticed, but as me.

Overthinking: Good or Bad?

Just a little update on where I’ve been, other than stressing over the fact that I’m trying to find myself a full time job, because I want those benefits, man!  Recently I blogged about leaving an interview unsatisfied with my performance.  Turns out, I was overthinking it, because I got the part time job!!  I’m totally stoked, and after after the fact, I now see that I had nothing to worry about.  Talk about an ego boost.  But now I’m overthinking the way I’m thinking.

Is it bad that I’m telling myself “see, you had nothing to worry about,” because I got the job, when in that moment when I left the interview, I was totally beating myself down?  I know it seems like I’ll never be happy, but I want to be there for myself.  I want to be there not only when something good happens, but also when something bad happens.  I want to make sure that I can tell myself “you have nothing to worry about,” or “everything is going to be okay,” even when I feel (or it seems) like it’s not going to be, and believe it.  Overthinking things can be good or bad.  It’s there so I can be dramatic about my life, and practice “the struggle” for when I get my own reality TV show.  But honestly, I hope that one day, with my ability to overthink things, I can keep up the confidence in myself to be successful in anything I do.

“Oh Lord, Know Yourself, Know Your Worth…”

Beside 0 to 100’s opening line being profoundly deep, it really is difficult to know one’s own self and one’s own worth.  I’m pretty sure that we can all agree that ohhhh Lawd, the journey to reaching that point when we realize who we truly are, and are happy with that, is rough.  I’m still trying to reach that point, if there ever is an end to this madness.  I hope so.  I reaaaally hope so.

It’s like I find ways to remind myself just how werrrthy I am, and that I should be confident in myself.  For example, a week ago (no, no shmoney dance) the team I had danced with for a whole year had their banquet.  We were each given back the letter we had written to ourselves at our first meeting.  When I opened up the letter, I just laughed.  It was ridiculous and cheesy!  But I decided to keep it.  I still have the letter, because a tiny tiny part of me wants to believe in it.  I want to trust in the “words of wisdom” I gave to myself on that very first day, even though I might’ve not believed in them then, but hoped I would now.

It’s like I already know myself, and my worth.  It’s like subconsciously I am aware of it, and my conscious self just has to find it.  Woah…talk about meta!

The Struggle Is Real

I’m starting to do that creepy thing again.  No, not where I reach that awkward part of YouTube!  Geeze, that was last week!  I’m talking about stalking old high school peops via LinkedIn.  It rarely crosses my mind to follow up on what others are doing via Facebook.  I’m all obsessed with everyone else’s HASHTAGwhatsyourbigboyjob type of life now.  I think I’m more so obsessed, because I’m trying to find one myself.  You know, that good ‘ol full time job.  I want those benefits, man!

It’s a little sickening at times, because all I begin to do is compare compare compare.  And then things in my life start to become a competition with little Miss So-and-So, when she doesn’t even know who I am, or that we are in a competition, or that there is no real prize for the winner but pride…and possibly a cookie…mayyybe even a little dance party.  It’s so easy for me to justify all the things I have not done or accomplished, by putting down others…and that gets me nowhere but to the music store, where I purchase the tiniest violin, and find someone who knows how to play the violin, so they can play it for me…or maybe I should invest in a music teacher.  It gets a little difficult trying to motivate myself, without any external factors getting in the way.  I want to genuinely do things and accomplish things for myself.  I don’t want to do something, because it’ll make me appear “better” when compared to blank.  I don’t want to be superficial, and it’s a struggle I come across every day.

It’s so easy though, to make those comparisons.  The social media apps are right there at my finger tips.  They ask to be open, and they whisper how I’ll never be good enough.  I don’t want them to control me.  I downloaded them.  I made the conscious decision to make those accounts on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, etc., so don’t tell me what to do!  You don’t own me!  You don’t know who I am!  You don’t know mah lyfe!  (Besides how hard I really try to only post the “good” stuff that will make others perceive my life to be awesome!)

아, 진짜? “Oh, really?”

I am not so much a big fan of Kpop and Kdramas, as I am a bigger fan of their innovative hairstyles, colorful clothes, and amazing beauty products (basically, I’m obsessed with everyone’s complexion).  I’ve watched more than enough Kdramas to get the gist of what certain phrases stand for, and what different words mean.  In fact, I took a whole quarter learning the Korean language, because I was so inspired to one day star in my own Kdrama.  With luck on my side, my Korean class had an end of the year project where we had to do a skit…about anything we wanted!  My group decided to create a video that showcased all of Kdrama’s cliches.  Sooooo, I guess you can say my wish came true!

Disclaimer: I am not a native Korean speaker.  My wardrobe does not showcase the awesomeness of Kdrama attire, in the slightest.  Also,  I should invest in Korean beauty products, so I can get clear and glowing skin!

Update: I Didn’t Go Anywhere

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It’s hard to come up with new and exciting posts for a personal blog.  Especially when this personal blog is supposed to showcase my many run-ins with the law…Murphy’s Law.  But the thing is, my life has pretty much been a flatline of events.  Although, I did have run-in with the “law” on July 4th.  But, I’ll just prove to you how strong my writing skills are when I say, it’s easier if I told you about it in person, rather than write it down on paper (or monitor screen).  You know, like one of those moments where you get really lazy, or you just don’t know how to use your words, so you comment with a “you-just-had-to-be-there” type of thing.  This is exactly that.  It’s so hard to explain, but you can just trust it was something I would typically encounter.

Plans for this 2015 summer season?  (I mention summer “season,” because I am no longer in school.  The idea of “summer” no longer exists, therefore, “the limit does not exist!”)  This summer season,  I plan to do more than just work at my job and live vicariously through The Mindy Project…or any post-apocalyptic novel about “the chosen ones” obtaining super powers, and using them to overthrow their evil government.  I plan to shift my attention towards any new movie coming out.  Like all those Marvel films, and hashtag thatnewnew Mission Impossible movie, and live vicariously through those instead!  Basically, I plan to experience more.  I want to go outside of my comfort zone, and hopefully acquire new and exciting content that is worth remembering and writing about.

Here’s to more you-just-had-to-be-there moments!

…or nahh



I wish I was a kid again.  I wish I was still cute and never lost interest in wearing sparkly and brightly colored shoes.  I wish I still had that no care attitude, and that imagination that told me I can be and do whatever I want.  I wish I was still bliss with ignorance, and I wish I still had that want and fascination to know what the world can offer me.  However, I do not wish to be a kid all the time, because I don’t wish to still have a bedtime.  Let it be known, I love my sleep.  I sleep at every chance I get, but I don’t know how much I would like it if someone still told me that I had to go to bed at a certain time.

Once The Kids Are Asleep

I feel like to be a babysitter, you need to acquire a certain set of skills.  I’m not saying we all have to be stealthily trained ninjas or anything, but you’ve got to have tough skin.  This ain’t a job for the softies (especially if you got one of those late shifts, or just dealing with really difficult kids).  This is not so much a post about survival, as it is a guide for “How Not To Die From A Self-Induced Heart Attack.”  I say “self-induced” because sometimes it’s clearly a heart attack we can prevent ourself, from ourselves.

I’ll have you know that I’ve never died from a self-induced heart attack.  Therefore, the fact that I’ve never died from one, clears up any doubt you (and myself) might’ve had about my credibility.  I am here to share my very important information with my very important guest(s).  So now, you should totally listen to me and take what I have to say to heart!

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Babysitters Club Movie 1995

Once The Kids Are Asleep

For many babysitters, this is the part we’ve been waiting for!  The part of our shift where we’ve been counting down the hours, since we came into contact with these said kids.  This is the part of our shift where we can finally relax…WRONG!  This is the part where we need to get ourselves together, so we don’t get eaten alive by our own fears.  At this time, besides reaching for our wood daggers and our body armor, it becomes our responsibility as the [wo]man of the house to protect it (and our sanity) by following these simple steps.

1.  Quit with the imagination.

The kids are upstairs asleep while you’re sitting on the family’s couch, reading a book.  You hear a noise in the far distance.  You glance up from the page you’re on, and check if anyone is there.  You’re heart is pounding because you think you see someone, but no one is really there.  You don’t yell out “Anyone there?” because obviously you’ll wake up the kids if you do so, and if you’ve watched any scary movie, that is about the dumbest thing you could do.  Because any prospective killer won’t give away his/her hiding place by answering, “Yes, someone’s here!”

Once the kids are asleep, this is the time to shut off your imagination.  You no longer need it.  The kids you’re trying to impress so you can be considered the “cool” babysitter, don’t care for it because they’re asleep.  I highly advise you to turn off your imagination!  We are trying to maintain the oxygen flow going into your brain, and we don’t need you stopping your heart beat by making it think there are ghosts, vampires, zombies, or ax-murderers looming around the still and quiet house.

One time, I was babysitting a family that had a small terrier.  Around 11:30 pm the dog was barking because he had to pee.  Even though I didn’t want to take him outside, a barking dog in a quiet house is the title of my next horror film.  I put the dog on a leash and exited into the backyard.  As I was standing outside with the dog, I was imagining myself in a scene from a Scream movie as I quickly scanned for moving shadows.  I then set my eye on the sliding door that connected the kitchen to the backyard.  As the light from within shined through the windows into the darkness of the night, I quickly made a plan on how I would dart for safety.  Even though nothing had happened, I made it back into the house with my pounding heart in my hand.  Please, in order to prevent yourself from a self-induced heart attack, turn off your imagination.

2.  Lock all the doors, be aware of your exits, close all the blinds, and turn on the lights.

This is in conjunction with the first point.  Make sure you feel safe and comfortable.  You don’t want the parents to come home and find a grown a** woman rocking in the corner, whispering jibberish to calm herself, while sweating profusely (not to say that this post is based of off personal experience or anything).

3.  Have your cell phone and cell phone charger handy. 

This one is just common sense.  How else are you going to dial 911?

4.  Check the baby monitor only when necessary.

This is also in conjunction with the first point.  Let’s just get straight to it.  I hate baby monitors!  They scare the living organs out of me.  Whenever I turn on a baby monitor and that little black and white screen appears, I always think that I will see the baby out of its crib, staring through the monitor back at me.  Or I will hear the baby calling my name, and I will look over and the baby will still be sleeping.  I advise you to only check the baby monitor when necessary.  How do you know when it’s necessary?  If the last time you checked was 30 minutes to 1 hour ago.  Or if you really do hear a noise.  I doubt a baby will know how to say your name, if they can’t even say “momma” or “dadda.”  Lastly, check the baby monitor if you feel like something is wrong.  Go by intuition.

5.  Bring a book.

Bring any book that makes you feel happy!  This will make you calm.  You deserve to wind down.  It’s been a long day, and it’s nice to have some you time.  Fill your head with happiness and the good stuff, like unicorns and throw pillows.

Stalling On My Adulthood

I like school.  A lot.  But I can’t figure out if it’s whether or not I use it as a security to prevent myself from actually facing the realities of life and a career.  After I graduated college, I moved back home.  I no longer had the financial aid to help me pay my month’s rent, or utilities, or water bill (thank you financial aid!).  It was all gone.  Now I have to use my own money, that I make from babysitting, to pay my cell phone bill, car, and insurances.  Being in school, or more specifically, college, was the best!  It gave me my freedom and independence, without having me work so much for it.

I find it embarrassing having to move back home, that I want to move out already.  No one is forcing me to.  My mother is very generous.  She doesn’t even make me pay rent (which I am super grateful for).  But I want to move out for myself.  I want to move out to prove to myself (okay, and my peers) that I am not a dud or dependent.  I know a lot of people move back home after they graduate, but in reality that is what people like me (who have moved back home), tell others (who have moved back home), to make them feel good about themselves.  And do I feel better about myself?  YES!  But only for a hot moment.

I’m proud of myself, because for the past year, I’ve been trying to figure out what I want to do.  I’ve stuck to babysitting, and holding myself back from really finding a legit career.  People tell me, you don’t have to have it all figured out now, but in a way we do.  Or else, we remain stagnant and continue living at home and being miserable because you can’t host a party, because your mom has work in the morning and your siblings are sleeping because they have school the next day.  Oh, right!  Going back to why I’m proud of myself.  I am proud of myself, because I now have something to work for.  The next step is grad school, and in order to get into grad school I need to study for the GRE (then obviously take them…eventually).  It’s nothing big, but it is to me, because I get to go back to school!  And hopefully be able to move out anytime soon.

(Plus going back to school allows me to delay that dreaded and mundane life called adulthood).

This is my next step.  I now have something I can work towards.  Something I can look forward to.  Who knows if what I’m going to grad school for is something that I truly want to do.  But it’s something.  Who knows if this means I will eventually have it all together, but I’ll know when I get there.  I’m tired of trying so hard as to what it is I want to do.  Let me just do something, and hopefully everything else in my life will fall into place.  I’m done chasing what will make me happy, because that’s what I’ve been attempting to do so far, and it has led me to be miserable.  By being realistic, maybe this is me thinking like an adult, but not fully emerged into acting like one.