“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!

Hiking in a Thunderstorm


It’s an hour into our hike, and we (my 2 co-workers and I) begin to hear thunder.  We continue walking up the mountain like it’s nbd, but we hear the thunder again, and it’s even louder.

Co-Worker 1 (A 19 year old college student we’ll call Alisha): Megan.

*the sound of thunder*

Co-Worker 2 (A 26 year old we shall call…Debra): Megan.

*the sound of thunder again, but a little louder than the first time*

Alisha: Megan.  Megan!!

*the sound of thunder and it starts to rain…then pour a few seconds after*

Debra: Megan!!

*the sound of thunder, and then we see lightning (like, it was so close!  It continued to show up in 6 second intervals)

Alisha: MEGAN!!

Debra: MEGAN!!

Megan: What do you want me to do about it? *and I start running* RUN! *And then the two start running down the mountain trail with me*


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


My First Day

I was supposed to start my internship on Friday, but that didn’t happen.  I woke up that day super excited and nervous.  I was also feeling a little bit unsure and incompetent…just all around insecure, but I was ready to get things started.  I was ready to go!

I had a 9-5 shift, so I arrived 10 minutes early.  I waited by these 2 big locked green doors.  I waited there, because I was told that I would see people going in and out of it around 9 o’clock, and they should let me in.  Well…it was 9 o’clock now and I hadn’t seen anyone go in or out of those doors.  So, like any responsible new intern, I gave the office a call…but it went straight to voicemail.  Hmmm.  So I walked over to the administration building.  Maybe I had the wrong number.  Maybe I should Google the office’s reeeeealll number.  Nope!  I had the right number.  Heck, I even had the correct extension number memorized.  Damn, the administration building door was locked.  I looked at the “times of operation” posted on the door and it says they open at 9 am.  I peaked inside the administration’s glass doors and saw nothing.  Hmmm…

I walked back to those 2 big green doors that are supposed to be the entrance to start my internship…but they’re still locked.  So I decided to call the office of my employer one more time.  Still…no answer.  Okay, this is weird.  I took out my planner and checked the dates.  I even used more data to open up my email off of my phone to see if I missed anything.  Maybe…maybe, I thought at that moment, I should back go to the admin building one more time.

I tried the door of the admin building…still locked…


An older man with a beard came to the door and opened it for me.

Older Man: Good Morning.  Are you trying to get through those doors (referring to those 2 big locked doors where, apparently, I’m supposed to enter through every Friday).

Me: Did you see me lingering around?

Older Man: I saw you walking back and forth to the administration building, and new people to the park usually think that this is the main office.

Me: I’m trying to get a hold of (Name goes here).

Older Man: I don’t think anyone is in their offices.  The museums are open, but the offices are not.  Let me give (That “name goes here” name, goes here now). *calls the other office* I’m getting voicemail.  It seems that no one is in their offices today, because of the July 4th holiday weekend.

Me: Well, my name is Megan.  I am supposed to start my first day today as the communications intern.

Older Man: Well, that’s bad communication right there…

Ba-Dum Tshhhhhhhh



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.

My Emotions

The summer began with the attendance of two graduations.  My brother graduated from High School, and my sister graduated from college.  It makes me want to cry, seeing all these graduates and knowing that a new part of their lives are about to begin.  And because my siblings are a part of this class of 2015, it makes me want to cry even more.  I am so proud, excited, and scared for both my siblings!

I don’t usually express my emotions.  Or rather, show them publicly.  But if that rare moment occurs, it usually doesn’t go so well (that’s usually because I become a hot mess, the situation becomes somewhat awkward, and others don’t know how to react because the occasion is so rare).  Even when I dance, I’m always told to perform more in my face.

I mean, I don’t even like to hug people.  I don’t even express myself through the most simple expression of trust and intimacy (did you know that a hug releases 5% of stress?  They don’t say whether it has to be a good or bad hug, so I’m assuming all hugs in general release dopamine.  There is no prejudice.  Man, maybe this is why I’m such a miserable person.  My friend did tell me that she felt I have been a miserable old lady since I was 5…I need to hug!).  I just want to be clear though, I do hug people because everyone does it.  But if I did not conform to social norms, and I was confident in the choices I made, rather than being self-conscious that whatever it is I want to do is looked down upon, or deemed awkward and weird, by my millennials, and the society I live in today, I would freely choose not to greet with hugs.  Rather, I would greet and send people off with high fives!

Even though crying is a little bit different than giving hugs, they kinda have the same purpose.  They’re used to release stress and/or happiness.  They’re used to show a form of vulnerability and intimacy.  They’re used to express one’s feelings, and they’re used every day.

Now I feel like I have to justify myself.  Just because I don’t like to physically express my emotions openly, does not mean that I am not an emotional person.  In my daily soul searching struggle (ah, was that just an example of alliteration?), I find myself to be a very sympathetic and even empathetic person.  It’s just easier for me to contain my emotions whenever I feel like crying in public.  I personally feel like crying shows weakness.  Or maybe I just care way too much about what others think.  Or maybe I’ve given myself that excuse for so long that I’ve trained myself to stop myself before letting anything happen.

For example, my sister is moving away to New York.  Not for college, but to start a new life.  This past Monday was her graduation day.  It would be the last time I would see her before she moved off to New York the following weekend.  I told her how proud of her I am.  I told her that I wanted to cry and that I would miss her.  I mentioned that I wanted to cry, because I wanted her to know how sincere my feelings were at that moment.  Coincidently, as I said those words, I felt a soreness in my throat developing.  It was the feeling of my tears crawling up as I was trying to suppress them before they burst out of my eyes.  I subconsciously told them to stop, and the tears were soon under control.  Unlike how I said I was going to, I did not cry.  I stopped myself from crying in front of my own sister.

Sometimes I feel like what I say isn’t validated until I show it.  Without a doubt, my sister knew that my words were honest.  But no matter how much I wanted to cry, I did not.  I just wish I did because rather than telling her, or having her know my feelings, I wanted to show them.

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.

Retail: Being Hired As A Therapist

I have been working in retail for about 5 years (you can also refer to my LinkedIn for proof *wink wink*).  My first job was at Barnes and Noble, I also took up a crossover position at Banana Republic, and finally ended my retail “career” at a children’s clothing store called Hanna Andersson.  I feel like retail has taught me more about people and life, than any other life experience I’ve encountered (to a certain degree).

How Not To Lose Faith In Humanity

The companies I’ve worked for did not hire me as just a Bookseller, Brand Ambassador, and Sales Associate, they hired me as a retail therapist.  I am told I have that face.  You know, the one that says “I’m a good listener, tell me all your problems, and I won’t judge you” type of face.

Side Note: In actuality, when you’re a stranger shopping in my store, I really don’t want to hear about how someone stole your parking spot and now your whole day is ruined (I just want to listen to my own thoughts, where I’m wallowing in self-pity and telling myself I need to do something that will do a better job at paying the bills).  In reality, when you’re a stranger shopping in my store, I AM judging you!  It’s just a natural thing that human beings do.  We form opinions based on first impressions.  End Side Note.

That’s how I was in the beginning of my retail days.  As days, weeks, months, and years went by where customers would continuously be rude, vent, and laugh with me (and at me), I began to realize that we all want the same thing.  We all want someone with an objective POV to just listen to us.  We want someone to be there for what we feel that day and in that moment.

Not to say that there weren’t days where I wanted to completely give up on humanity…Like yelling something at the top of my lungs about how disrespectful and rude everyone is when they don’t even know me, when they don’t even see how hard I’m trying to help them and be there for them.  I would then drop the mic *drops mic,* flip over a table (in this case, it would be the store’s portable folding table), do a little boogie, throw up a peace sign, and walk into the sunset with my sunglasses on and a venti iced green tea lemonade in my hand.

Rudeness is merely an expression of fear. People fear they won’t get what they want. The most dreadful and unattractive person only needs to be loved, and they will open up like a flower.

– M. Gustave (The Grand Budapest Hotel)

(Although rudeness should never be an excuse to mistreat someone you don’t know, because we all know what it means to have manners, I thought this quote fit in nicely to my experiences in retail)

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Retail is tough.  It has taught me to be patient, to be kind, to channel my inner peace (this kinda sounds like the Prayer to Saint Francis….ohhhh boy, did it take me a lot of prayer and believing in a higher power when I came across just straight up mean customers who thought they could change a 30 year policy, or yell at me when they couldn’t get their way, or scold me on how to do my job when I’ve been doing my job for 2 years).  Retail has taught me to show compassion, and if someone wants to complain to you about their day, to really listen (even when you don’t want to).  Because maybe they don’t have anyone else to talk to.  Maybe they’re stuck staying at home all the time, isolated from the outside world on a daily basis with no outside communication, unless it’s the occasional mall outing when they decide they have time to shop and be amongst society.  We don’t really know.  I don’t think anyone ever really knows.  Retail has taught me to be there for people, and that I can feel guilty, but I shouldn’t feel guilty for things that are out of my control.

People just want to talk, strangers just want to share, and individuals just want to be accepted.