party time

thanksgiving at ms. manor* was a success. there was no shortage of grub: everyone got stuffed (shannon and i started panicking on wednesday that there would be some kind of food availability crisis, inciting a riot among our starved guests. as it turns out, we could've fed most of hollywood. we are so becoming our mothers. the leftovers are rotting in our fridge if you wanna stop by).


i had a minor freakout as guests started to arrive and i was still hunched over the stovetop, perfecting my rosemary seitan. i called in reinforcements - oli, shannon and georgia - to be my sous chefs, and we got the food on the table without a hitch.


look! everyone fits, and no elbows bump!


georgia and i, post-consumption cuddling.

check out all the photos here.

i also had a birthday last weekend. i skated. i fell. i ate cupcakes in a parking lot. people told me they had fun. i think i had fun too though my memory is a little foggy.

i was able to piece the night together a bit thanks to photographic evidence.

but seriously guys: did the snaggle-toothed and/or cross-eyed employees of world on wheels polish their skate floor with butter before we arrived? much of my birthday was spent on my ass. shit is slick up in that roller disco! i woke up on sunday morning, my for reals birthday, more bruised than the morning after a derby bout.

OK, yes, i was drinking, and some people claim that booze and roller skating don't mix, but i've done some of my best work on skates while intoxicated. just recently, i was hired (along with a few other dolls) to roller skate at scott weiland's 40th birthday party.

there was an open bar, which we, the ever-professional derby girls, hit with much gusto. the drinking had no negative impact on our performance, and as the night wore on, we got more and more creative with our interpretive dance moves. a few of us even started blocking and whipping scott, who was a good sport, not to mention a terrific roller skater (who knew?). the party guests loved us, and the event planner assured me that we are hired the very next time she throws a roller disco party for an aging rock star.

*forgot to have the thanksgiving day name-meghan-and-shannon's-apartment contest. ms. manor remains the working title until i (or you?) come up with something better.

on birthdays

no matter how much gunk i put under my eyes before i go to sleep, or how long i can hold a plank during burn & firm class, i keep getting older. my 29th birthday is creeping up on me, and as the final hurrah of my 20s, i think i should have a party.

i don't do birthday parties, and can only recall two from my past: my sixth at chuck e. cheese's (a magical place that i could not be dissuaded from calling "chunky cheeses" regardless of how many times i was corrected). at this party, i was serenaded by a sexy animatronic chicken, and later flung myself into a pit to be buried beneath so many bright and hollow balls. i ate my weight in birthday cake, and even at such a tender age, i knew instinctively that parties would not get any better than this.

the other party i recall was my 22nd, back in phoenix, which my friend danielle threw in my honor. it was her idea, and when she told me, my heart filled with helium and expanded, a red balloon in my chest, warmed because someone thought i deserved a party. i was so moved by her gesture that i neglected to say that i didn't so much want a party. she had a big house, and i worried that when people failed to show up, it would feel that much more empty. these fears were not unfounded.

things i remember from this party: a runny vegan cheesecake, made by amy, which we ate in the kitchen with our hands. people coming and going throughout the night, never staying long enough to fill the house. crying in the bathroom. four people in that enormous living room, dancing to xtc. kim, who would later die from a drug overdose in that very same house, shattering a window.

so that was my last birthday party, and since then, i have kept it simple. dinner and drinks with friends, no fuss, no gift required. a small exception could be my 27th birthday, which i celebrated at the magic castle with a few of my favorite people. there were card tricks and quick-change acts and a smoking clown inside a giant balloon. there was also a bar. chunky cheeses for grown-ups.

but whatever, fuck it, this year i'm gonna have me a real party. and i think i've devised a foolproof plan, a birthday party with an insurance policy. i've invited my friends to crash someone else's party. the deets:



even if no one shows up for me, i will be surrounded by people dancing on roller skates - the best kind of people, my kind of people, all of us predestined to be fast friends.

so this is it. i am wrapping up my 20s, the end is in sight, but i am ok with that. when i look back on my early- and mid-20s, and recall how loath i was to part with each year, clinging to it, how i would examine my face in the mirror at night, scanning for a fresh line while cursing myself for raising my eyebrows so often, i see an unhappy person, someone who was desperate for more time to get things right. i am relieved to not be that girl anymore

here's another new thing i'm trying out: an amazon wishlist. of the highest priority: new knee pads as i am just barely keeping my current pair together with some strategically placed electrical tape. roller derby, hobo style.