Come and see me, I’m the same girl I used to be
Twenty-eight years ago I got all decked out in my finest matching sweater-suit and met my sister for the first time.
AND SHE SLEPT THROUGH IT.
HISTORY WAS HAPPENING, MEGAN, AND YOU MISSED IT. FOCUS UP.
(But now you can’t get mad at me when I fall asleep at 9:00 pm at your birthday party.)
Soufflé Creations, my grandpa’s own line of homemade greeting cards
Happy Easter, no one!
Please come to my conference session, “Sending an Email with a Giant Typo In It, Then Spelling “Typo” Incorrectly in the Apology Email: No But Seriously, You Can Trust Me with Your Visa Status.”
This looks like a good spot to rustle up some grub.
A picture tells a thousand stories of why I had a hard time fitting in at this age.
It doesn’t do me any favors to tell you this was taken at the Miss Medina County Fair competition.
The Baby Bullet.
Dear god, this thing is fucking terrifying.
FRINDLE BABBIN
I have a head cold and this is exactly what the inside of my head is like today.
Girls weekend supplies
Favorite part of the LA trip, part 2 of ∞:
When Chris took a selfie with Steve Nash in the background then tweeted it to Steve Nash.
