Saturday, April 29, 2006

Sometimes I Wish I Wasn't Nice

Saturday, April 29, 2006
There are times when, after having someone I absolutely despise tread all over me, that I wish I could release the raging bitch within. Instead of smiling sweetly, and saying, "oh, absolutely! no problem!", I would launch into a rampage and someone would lose an appendage.

But oh, no. I have such a heightened guilt complex that the very thought of upsetting someone makes me feel bad. So when someone comes into work, say, and tries on 14 tops, then hangs them all back on the hangers INSIDE OUT, I say nothing. That's my job. Hang shirts. Re-hang shirts. Smile. Nod. Smile. "Oooh, that looks amazing!". But what I wish I could say is more like, "Oooh, that would look amazing, except it makes you look the colour of concrete, and accentuates your back fat. Plus, I don't think you could afford it."

Or, say, when someone rolls through the box office, and tells me, "I couldn't see anything on the right side of the stage. Could you tell the actors to switch sides? Then I could see better." I said, "I'll pass that along. Thank you." Now, this was for the show I'm NOT doing box office for. I have nothing to do with that show. I could care LESS about that show. That show could float away into oblivion and take all its patrons with it, for all I care. If I had my day of bitchiness, I probably would have said, "Gee, lady. That's not my freaking problem. Next time, why don't you show up more than 2 minutes before the show starts. Then, maybe you and your flock of homely rugrats could sit somewhere else, and little Jimmy-Jenny-Bobby-Sue could actually see the show. But then they'd have to shut the hell up."

Or, instead of saying, "Oh, sure, I'll take care of that for you.", I'd have shoved that bag of Spolumbo's Sausages back into Princess' face, telling her to take her goddamn meat elsewhere, for she's not involved with any show except for boinking one of the actors, therefore, she does not have green room priviledges. Particularly for the green room in the other theatre. Oh, and, I would have told her that she has fat calves.

Thursday, April 27, 2006


Thursday, April 27, 2006
For only the second time in a few days, I'm remarkably relaxed. There's no doom or deadline hanging over my head (well...that's a lie, I have to have those exams graded for Monday. But it's only Thursday! Loads of time!), no one is being all "up in my grill", and I got to make an incredible mess this evening, with clay and water and a wheel...oh, so much fun.

I'm well known for launching myself passionately into a new hobby, and then losing interest quickly when I realize that I suck terribly at it. I suck at pottery. I'm fantastically bad. But apparently, that is the norm, and I'll just keep making really big messes, and screwing up right at the very last moment, when I was almost done making something that you could actually identify as a shape or prism-type object known not only in Megland, but studied in other parts of the world, too. Like, a cylinder.

But I digress. Anyway, the last few days have been a mess of moving, examining, moving, packing but no unpacking, and changing of phone numbers. I'm truly looking forward to Robert's "Springtime in Paris" cocktail party tomorrow night.

OH! And, did I mention that someone I know killed someone else? On purpose? In an incident that didn't involve farm machinery? Yeah, that triple murder in Medicine Hat...his family is from Bugtussle, too. Weird.

This has been a crappy blog post. Signing off, with what remains of my very scattered brain...

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Letting Go

Tuesday, April 25, 2006
So, I'm almost done the long process of packing up all my worldly posessions. I've moved boxes to Robert's, to Lauren's, and I'll probably start shipping stuff over to my Aunt and Uncle's. I've purged the thousands of pages of notes, newspaper clipings, and old bills and bank statements, but kept cards and letters from friends. The important things are packed safely away, in waterproof bins, in the event of a flood or other water-related disaster. (hurricane? tsunami? you just never know.)

The only thing I'm having trouble dealing with are textbooks. I'm looking at thousands of dollars worth of books, here. I've kept my marketing books, which I have actually used, over and over again. My finance books, now 2 years old, at least, I hope to never open again. That Strategy text was like an extra limb this semester. So, why am I so attached? I feel like if I get rid of them, sell them back to the bookstore, maybe everything I've learned in the past 4 years will be gone. That really heavy box represents a long, intense period of my life- that in hindsight seems less long and more intense. It's almost over, and I'm willing to admit that I'm having a bit of difficulty coming to terms with it.

Maybe I should get rid of them. Cut and run. Move on. Use up-to-date reference materials in the future. Or, I could just hold on to them for a few more months.

So, does anyone want to come over and help me carry a massive box of textbooks?

Monday, April 24, 2006

Important Lessons

Monday, April 24, 2006
Things I Learned Today:

-Mulit-Vitamins are not a food substitute.
-When you are uncertain as to which day, exactly, you're going to move out of your crappy apartment, don't pack the kitchen stuff first, or you'll find yourself eating vitamins for breakfast.
-Women's clothes are much harder to take off another person than yourself, particularly if the other person is a mannequin with no head or arms. However, playing the world's best and biggest game of Barbie-doll dressup, with a lifesized decapitated, limbless doll, when you're 22, ROCKS.
-I only screw up cash-out at the Pumphouse.
-Don't sing show tunes. Even if you think you're alone, just don't do it.
-UltraHeadacheRelief Tylenol does, indeed, relieve headaches. But don't take it and then try to nap- it containes a lot of caffiene. Coming from a coffee fiend- trust me. LOTS of caffiene.
-Bruises caused by Rubbermaid totes make you look like you've been beaten about the knee area.
-I don't know how to spell "caffiene"
-Moving sucks.
-The song "Hallelujah", written by Leonard Cohen, is actually better when performed by Jeff Buckely. None of the versions by Bob Dylan, Rufus Wainright, or even Leonard himself really stand up to ol' Jeff. Rest his soul.
-All the Hot "J" Musicians are dead. Jimi, Jim, John, your back, John Mayer. Watch your back.

I hope the above are on my exam tomorrow. I really, really do.

Sunday, April 23, 2006

"What's wrong with Executive Compensation?"

Sunday, April 23, 2006
I have one exam left this semester, in MGST 493: Corporate Governance and Control. Thrilling, I tell you. Last night, I was working box office for Ground Zero at the Pumphouse, and I took some of my notes to study while waiting for the patrons to show up. I'm reading through a journal article titled as above, taking some notes and trying to focus on an extrememly boring topic.

I look up, and am surprised to see one of the ushers staring at me. Then she asks me, "well? what IS wrong with executive compensation?"

Look, Lady. I have to read it. I have to grasp it. I have to be able to spit it out and answer 50 multiple choice questions about it on Tuesday. But I sure don't have to explain it to you- particularly as you're one of those airy-fairy, spacey arts types. And for future reference, a billion is, in fact, larger than a million. Just so you know.

Please. Just hand out programs, and leave me alone.

Oh, and I think it's hilarious that this morning, I called the parent of one of the kids my parents have in Europe, to see if they knew what time their flight got in to Saskatoon today. I sound just like my mother- so much that family has difficulty telling us apart on the phone- and when Marla answered, she was quite freaked out that "Lenore" was calling, since Lenore has her daughter on a trans-atlantic flight from a foreign country as I type this.

Saturday, April 22, 2006

why I should live alone, and other stories

Saturday, April 22, 2006
Sarah, my roommate of 2 years, moved out yesterday. I got home, and she was gone, with all of her stuff (except some pork chops in the freezer- and I don't eat pork, so I have no idea what to do with them...), and our apartment was now my apartment, and it was really quiet.

I am moving, too, in the next few days, but for now, it's kind of nice to have the place to myself. Here's a list of the things I've done sans roommate:

-drank corona without feeling bad about it
-walked around nude
-sang very loudly to "These Boots Were Made For Walking" and "Love Shack"
-played my stereo in the living room at 3am, eating toast and dancing about, in my underpants
-showered for entirely too long- should there have been anyone else here, it would have been really inconsiderate

Yeah. Not like I didn't do these things when Sarah lived here anyways...and so it dawns on me- I'm a bad roommate. I don't wash dishes promptly. I leave wet towels on the floor sometimes. I talk on the phone well into the wee hours. I like to play bad music, loudly, in the "shared area" of the apartment. I eat yogurt and beer for dinner. I talk to myself. I watch bad tv. I put leftovers in the fridge, leave them there for a few weeks, and then find them. Sometimes I throw them out...

So, in conclusion- Sarah, I'll miss you. Math Power, prepare yourself for the Summer of George. Self- start checking the classifieds.

Friday, April 21, 2006

"Some Show" by Some Company

Friday, April 21, 2006
Okay, so I got myself into trouble by commenting on a play I saw last weekend, so this time, I'll play it safer. This evening, I enjoyed a performance of a "tale as old as time" at the Pumphouse with my friend Kevin. You know, it well exceeded my expectations. Bryan was a very enthusiastic spoon. The costumes were lovely, the set was...typical...the songs were of standard community theatre caliber.

I hope that didn't offend anyone. Seriously. Because if you know me at all, you know I'm all about "backpedalpbacpedaldigupdigup!!!", and I don't like conflict.

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Dear Jack Kulchitsky,

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Hey. I know I was pretty mouthy this semester- that happens when I sit in the front row. And, I know I got a little too boozed when you took our class for drinks last week- and I know that I may have acted slightly (slightly!) inappropriately around the person who is in charge of grading my last marketing exam ever, but c'mon, man. I'm praying, PRAYING, that in 53 minutes, when I write your final, it won't be as brutal as you say it is.

I'm sure it will be. Man, why do I never learn?! I don't study well! This is what happens when you excell at High School, and then spend 4 years bs-ing your way through a BComm! I think I'll go throw my Governor General's Medal out the window. Worthless piece of Canadiana, representative of nothing! (Okay, highest academic average. But NOTHING!)


ps- Lent is over, friends.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

My Secret Shame (and yours...)

Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Everyone has a secret shame, a strange habit. Something they do, in the privacy of their own home, or own room, or in a city or neighbourhood where no one knows them. Be it eating yogurt right out of the big tub, singing loudly in the bathroom, squeezing and smelling the fruit at the grocery store, listening to atrocious and decidedly un-cool music, drinking milk through a licorice straw, an addiction to a late-night tv show, or an aversion to pants; everyone has a quirk that they try to keep under wraps.

I admit, I have lots of secret shames- and not so secret shames. I'm pretty square. But you know, I think we should all EMBRACE it! Who cares if you really want to drive a Yaris? Practice singing Bjork songs into a hairbrush? Count the stairs out loud as you walk up them? Refuse to eat foods of a certain colour if they touch? Go for it. Carpe diem, is too short not to be weird.

blog, blog blog blog blogggg.

Today, I attempted to begin packing. I don't know how it is that twice a year, in April, and then again in September, I purge and downsize all of my belongings, then come April again, I have about 8 times as much crap as I started out with. Sometimes I feel like a "stuff" magnet. I'm looking around my room, at the clothes, the books, the papers, the hair products, the books, the books, the books, the papers...I blame school.

I have to be out of this beautiful Shanty by the 26th, the same day I start working at Tapestry. I've also got exams to write, exams to grade, box office to do, and other assorted tasks of life. I get a real kick out of the fact that by the time my parents are back from Europe, I will have moved.

I love moving. I do it so often, I'm a total pro. Part of me cannot wait until I move into a place for a year term; this 8-month lease deal is stressful. What's more stressful is the idea of unemployment and homelessness starting on July 1st, but I digress.

On to a new phone number, a new address, and less stuff. Anyone want 4 lilac coloured frosted glass tealight holders? (wtf, where did those even COME from?!)

Monday, April 17, 2006

New Shows!

Monday, April 17, 2006
Okay, I admit, it may seem that of late, all I do is watch TV. Far from true...I do regularly watch CSI and Grey's Anatomy, but that's about it. However, I'm kind of hooked on this new show, "What About Brian", with they guy from 7th Heaven, who cannot dance at ALL, and is the 7th Wheel among his friends.

Sound familiar, anyone? I feel his pain.

One situation where I am happy to be the 3rd Wheel is with the Familia de Rose. I'd be perfectly happy spending the rest of my adult life working in the Mama Chapmaneroni's Family Restaurante. Slinging pizza pies, shouting at rugrats, flirting with the "regulars"...I'd be down. And maybe, after I'd lived a long life as a Spinster Waitress, they'd paint a tacky oil portrait of me and hang it in the dining room. Just think, I could live in a back room!

C'mon, RR and Lady that "Grandma's Basement" restaurant. I'll help re-decorate, I'm sure I have some bordello lamps and a velvet Elvis or a Virgin Mary statue hanging around somewhere...

Why is there no 12-step program for this?!


Kicking the watermelon habit might be more difficult than I had originally thought.

Sidenote: We've been out of TP at the Shanty for 2 days now. I think this is Mexican Standoff v. 228, and I admit, I am ready to cave. I fear potential clogging of the toilet with kleenex is going to happen, soon.

Going once...going twice...

Anyone want to do my BSEN 485 take-home final? Not that it's particularly hard, it's just lame and time consuming. I have 2 hours until my German exam, and I'm pretty sure that won't be too challenging.

For those of you that remember, a few months ago I was somewhat involved with a psychotic yoga chef who had a habit of calling me at 5:00am. I'm glad to say that I severed all ties, and as a result of his craziness, gave up men for Lent. Well, I was pretty sure I had severed all ties, at least...

The week of my birthday, he called me on Monday. I told him to not bother calling again, and that I wanted nothing to do with him. Well, he just called. Again. What gives, man? I haven't seen you since early February! Give UP! It's almost MAY! I've moved on! You're still engaged! Go AWAY!

(Besides. You're "terminally ill", remember? You told me you'd be dead by now. And while I don't actually wish you dead, sometimes, boy, you'd just be better off that way. If I don't see your obituary come end of May...well, pray I don't run into you on the street.)

In other exciting news, I think I'm going to be a nun. Being pious and chaste for the rest of eternity sounds a little bit better every day.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Let It Be Known...

Sunday, April 16, 2006
I would like to state, for the record, that there is absolutely NOTHING wrong with sitting on the couch, watching old Sandra Dee films on Turner Classic Movies, eating ripple chips and doing laundry on a Saturday night, mulling over whether the last person you dated was "just that into you" or not, and considering whether you were "just that into them" or not, and bemoaning the fact that every guy you know, know of, or have wanted to get to know is either gay or already dating someone else.

Nor is there anything wrong with buying, and eating, over the course of a weekend, an entire family sized bag of ripple chips.

And not that I'm actually doing it, but in the event that you so choose, there is nothing wrong with crushing and sprinkling those ripple chips over vanilla ice cream.

There is, however, something wrong with judging someone for doing the above. Especially if he/she is sitting on the couch nude. And then feels the need to roll around in chip crumbs and melted ice cream.

Not that I'd ever do that.


Saturday, April 15, 2006

Waiting Game

Saturday, April 15, 2006
I saw echo37's production of "The Graduate" last night. I'd been anxiously awaiting this play for months- since August, actually. Sadly, I was disappointed. Either I didn't really "get" the film, or the director/cast didn't "get" it.

My money's not on me- it's bad form to bet on oneself.

So, after watching a well-staged play with a clever set, but disapointingly shrill, one-dimensional characters, I have to admit that I wish I'd have anxiously anticipated just about anything else. But was it the build-up that made it disapointing? Can anything, or anyone, really live up to standards set by 8 solid months of longing? Waiting? Pining?

No, sadly, reality is often less than expected.

In an unrealated (ha. bullshit.) note, I've decided to let this Watermelon Fascination go. Adieu, unrequited love. Adieu.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Bermuda Shorts Day

Thursday, April 13, 2006
This morning at 11:20 am, I handed in my very last Haskayne School of Business Group Project. While I have 2 months of school left, it felt damn good to wash my hands of the Biz Skool and their ridiculous group assignments. No more!

Today is Bermuda Shorts Day (BSD), and a celebration of the last day of class. I have class, which I'll actually attend, at 2. As I find myself without any more homework, I've been sitting around all morning like a chump. If I go to the beer gardens, I won't make class, and I really need to go.

This evening, I plan on not going to the bar. I think I'll hit some friends bbq's, hopefully, and then maybe call it a night. I'm lacking in enthusiasm for the revelry- BSD was great in first year, but I think that the appeal is wearing off.

I see throngs of drunken assholes, with Sharpied-Yourself Wifebeater Tanktops, leis, and shorts. It's April, and chilly, people. Put on a sweater! I can't get behind the drinking before noon, nor can I get behind the wasting of money on beer when I have a perfectly good case of Corona chilling in my fridge...and whoever was blasting the muzak at 7am, thanks. THANKS A LOT.

In summary, the only people outside whooping like ya-hoos are first years, and those graduating that can't bear the idea of life beyond university.

Happy BSD.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Ciao, Mom and Dad!

Tuesday, April 11, 2006
My parents are leaving tomorrow for two weeks in Europe. I am jealous, for sure, of their wanderings, but not jealous of the fact that they are taking a group of teenagers with them. I admit, I wish I was a chaperone- and had my exam schedule and life not been directly conflicting with this trip, I would have gone, and ruled with an iron fist over those youth...when I wasn't busy meeting the Marco or Antonio or Hans of my dreams.

This weekend, I had the pleasure of catching a Sunday evening movie with the Roses. "Lucky Number Slevin" is definitely worth seeing, despite Bruce Willis' inability to be any other character than Bruce Willis, Lucy Liu's annoying bounciness, and Josh Hartnett's...well, facial hair. Of note is the film's ability to use all the geometric patterns in existance. I noticed. It was distracting, but in an interesting, "what could this possibly MEAN?!" kind of way. Got me thinking about backward construction, which reminded me that I have an English essay due tomorrow...

So, tomorrow, Prof. Hadley, I shall hand in 1209 words of complete and utter meaningless rhetoric, on the true crime novel, the detective fiction genre, the concept of justice and the consequences of longing as expressed by humanity and the characters in "In Cold Blood". Enjoy reading it over Easter break...just as I will enjoy not being in Europe with my parents.

Wait, enjoy does not exactly express my feelings there. At least the Easter bunny will still visit my...wait a second...dammit! Mom, at least you could have mailed me some chocolate rabbits before you left for Roma!

Sunday, April 09, 2006

Goodbye, Funk.

Sunday, April 09, 2006

It is with absolutely no regret whatsoever that I announce the death of a long despised, yet constant presence in my life- the Funk. For 3 weeks, the Funk was the greatest influence on my mood, my actions, and my blog. Born in the gray of late winter, the Funk had a slow-building youth, gradually gaining power until the peak of its existence on Monday, April 3. The Funk met its timely end on Friday, April 7th, ushering in the dawn of a new era of Megan, a new season, and a new hair style.

The Funk was predeseaced by the Christmas Slump, the Flu, Mononucleosis, and the Spring Break In Mexico That Never Was.

The Funk will be missed by alcohol merchants, sadistic blog readers, the green polar fleece sweater, and evil professors. In lieu of flowers, Crave Cupcakes or Butter Chicken, donations to the BSD Par-tay Fund will be accepted in the form of hoots, hollers, and good times.

Photo: Celebrating Lack of Funk at YEDD. (Credit goes to Amy Dedeluk for taking such a great picture, and my ingenuity for stealing it from Facebook.)

Okay, I'll still accept donations of Butter Chicken.

Okay, and Crave Cupcakes.

Alright! Flowers are okay, too.

Saturday, April 08, 2006

Ungh, my YEDD.

Saturday, April 08, 2006
Oh, did I ever have a great birthday. Thanks, to everyone who made yesterday great.

This is the coolest blog-o-pictogram-story ever. I do heart you, Erin!

The Haskayne Year End Dinner Dance (YEDD) was entirely more fun than I was expecting. Finally, I participate in a school activity, and find it to be a blast? Weird. Must have been a strange planetary alignment.

Thanks again, everyone!

Friday, April 07, 2006

Let's all go to the Lobby!

Friday, April 07, 2006
Joey Joe Joe Joe took me to see "V for Vendetta" this evening. What a killer movie! That was some totally awesome blowing of stuff up, and Natalie Portman is such a hottie. Jealous!

In other news, tomorrow, (well- actually, it's after midnight, so I guess it's already tomorrow) this baby right here will be celebrating her birthday.

Hey, wait. That's me.

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Culture Club

Thursday, April 06, 2006
So, I was having this msn-versation with my friend Kent. He had made cabbage rolls, check his blog out if you want to see the photos of the process (impressive, by the way). This lead to much discussion of perogies.

Everyone has their own "best perogy." Clearly, my Grandma Olga makes the BEST perogies, bar none, hands down, unless you accidentally get a cabbage one when you're expecting it to be an apple one, because those wiley babas at St Gerard's, her church, use the wrong shape for cabbage. Apple perogies are rectangular, people! Get it together!

Anyway. Perogies are Saskatchewan's comfort food. I eat a lot of frozen perogies, because while homemade ones, they aren't difficult to make, but it's an elaborate process involving far more counter space than I currently have at Chez Moi.

This has lead to me thinking about my Saskatchewan Heritage. My family isn't Ukranian, but we may as well be. Mom comes from the "Perogy Belt", we sing about "FIve Golden Rings Of Kielbasa ("kubasa" for you uneducated ones)" at Christmas, and instead of Jezebel's Dance of the Seven Veils, my mom tells stories of the Seven Deadly Polkas, where apparently after the seventh polka, you are nude. Too much information, I know. Kind of like when someone tells you they're wearing pantyhose under their jeans...ew. But this is where I come from.

I'm proud, I think. Why would I still be telling people I'm from the Flatlands, if it wasn't something close to my heart? I have more Saskie Stories than I can count, and while Alberta is home now, and probably will be for awhile, unless Onterrible wins out in the epic battle over Megan, Saskatchewan will always be home.

As long as they have holuptchi, perogies, and polka.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

We don't have that where I'm from...

Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Eggs. Good.

Eggs for dinner. Good.

Eggs for dinner at 10:37 pm. Maybe not so good.

Daylight Savings Time. I'm still not used to it.

Monday, April 03, 2006

Yoo-hoo, over here....

Monday, April 03, 2006
I'm so tired of playing "Pick me!!"

For years, I feel like I've been standing in a corner, waiting for someone to pick me. Choose me. Recognize me. Validate me. It's never going to happen, y'know. I've been standing here for almost a decade, and no change. At this point, I'm pretty much convinced I'll never get a job.

For that matter, I'll probably spend the rest of my life alone.

I'll never be the person that prompts other people to cross a room to talk to her. I'm a "personality" girl, which I wouldn't ever want to change- except in careers and romance, to see someone's personality, you have to give them a shot.


Plan B: Get cat. Sell aluminum siding. One day, turn car wheel slightly to the left into concrete overpass.

Sunday, April 02, 2006

Oh, the things we don't know.

Sunday, April 02, 2006
The Census Taker came around today. Ordinarily, Rez at the U of C is usually easy to get into, but outside of people that live here, no one ever knocks on the door. 'Round our place, no one ever knocks, period- the door flies open Cosmo Kramer-Style. So when I was diligently procrastinating this afternoon, and I heard a knock but no swinging of the door, I was a little confused.

My confusion only continued. It was a census-taker, which I had heard were maybe-possibly-but probably not-coming around before the end of the month. Okay, I can deal with this- easy and quick questions. There are two women between the ages of 18-24 living here, we are both full-time students, yadda yadda...until..

Census Taker Man: "When you have children, will you send them to a private, public, or Catholic school?"

Megan: "uh......children?"

How the hell am I supposed to know? I have difficulty deciding which breakfast cereal to buy. How will I educate my children, who do not yet and may not ever exist, especially in Calgary?

Your guess is as good as mine, Census man. There are no bebes here.

Saturday, April 01, 2006

His name was John?

Saturday, April 01, 2006
I can't believe it. I just watched the final episode of Sex and the City. I know, you must think I'm completely obsessed- pathetic, isn't it? To be obsessed with a show that ended two years ago?

My love of SATC started two years ago. The show ended, and started playing in Canada. The dvds, available at blockbuster, got me through a rough summer. That was the first summer I spent in Calgary- mostly alone, in the deep South West, working a low-paying retail job, and living at my Uncle's house. My friends had gone home for the summer, and Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte became a substitute. I don't believe that the show "changed my life", but I started wearing my hair curly again, dating with abandon, and wearing high heels. I do realize that those women are supposed to be in their thirties, and according to the guys I know (and long conversations with Lauren), compulsive watching of the show results in unrealistic and romaticized expectations of the world.

Regardless, I'm in love with that show. So, when I sat down, flipped to Bravo to watch Godiva's, and the finale came on- I had to stop. Drop everything, including my essay. I sobbed. For a good 40 minutes.

Thanks, HBO. I absofuckinglutely needed that.

Hop 'n Brew

I wonder, sometimes, if I went wrong somewhere along the line.

This sense of responsibility- I always feel required to be in control. To take charge, make sure everyone is looked after. I've been the designated driver longer than I've actually held a license. True, if I'd suck it up, take a cab, or get on the bus, I wouldn't have to worry about driving home. But then coordinating a ride home for everyone, sharing taxis, and making sure someone isn't left puking all over the bathroom is a larger task.

Did I miss out on something? The sum of my teenage rebellion: Not taking Physics. I remember some of the worst trouble I ever got into was when I came home at 4:30 in the morning in Grade 9.

I'd been out with the SADD group, as a designated driver ride-along for the Town Christmas Party. We got lost driving someone out to their farm, and in the days before cell phones, we had no way to call home and let them know we were going to be late.

I've got nothing to contribute to a conversation about a mushroom high. I've smoked pot a grand total of probably 4 times. Oooh, wild child over here. I don't drink in excess, I don't jaywalk, I obey transit laws.

What would happen if I didn't drive? If I got totally gunned, dropped all kinds of substances, and didn't give a shit about how I or anyone else got home? What if I was the drunken, stoned ya-hoo yelling at the pizza guy? Would it be fun? Or, deep down, is this sense of responsibility, the desire to maintain a sense of decorum about myself- is it so deeply ingrained that I'll never let it go?

I guess I'll never find out- I'll forever be the DD- the only one who remembers all the stories, but wasn't a part of them.