Oddly Dating: Lauren and A Disturbing Lack of Apple Cider Donuts

There are so many other things I need to be doing right now. If I look at my planner right now, I’m probably going to have to pencil in when I’m allowed to breathe….. Yet here I am!

Let me just say, I am very disappointed with this previous autumn season. From the heat, to the cold, to the heat again, or the leaves only changing color now at the end of November instead of early October, it was a what the f*ck moment each day. No one was all that excited for Halloween; I didn’t even carve a pumpkin with liberal shit on it to piss of Trump supporters. The biggest travesty though was the absence, the whole in my heart, that was the lack of apple cider donuts that were consumed.

Not for lack of trying though. Almost every day I checked the local bakery near my house in Columbia, leaving with nothing but emptiness in my soul (I mean stomach, but they are basically one in the same) each time I left. All of this culminated to the morning I woke up in College Park and said “f*ck this, I need them NOW.” Scrolling through my phone, I found a farm; thirty minutes away from me were, apparently, the best damn looking cider donuts in the region.

Naturally, I had to invite the one person I had complained to about the situation, and the person who 100% suffered as much as I did without these delicious explosions of fall goodness in ya mouth; Lauren was my date for sure.

Before I explain this surely saddening story, I must say that Lauren is easily one of my best friends, but also one of the most amazing people I know. She’s a kind and generous soul, who is sarcastic as hell, and comforting when you need it most. Lauren won’t hesitate to tell you she’d rather be drinking a glass of wine and petting a dog than dealing with your shit though. Her hobbies are the coolest on this earth (SHE’S A CONCERT PHOTOGRAPHER).

All my friends are more talented than me, that’s just the rule I guess. I sit there in awe at how much they have their shit together in terms of their passions, and then laugh my ass off at how much we all can’t get it together for real, graded classes.

Truly, I couldn’t have asked for a better someone to better suffer wit. After that thirty minute drive to the little farm we had found, and about fifteen minutes of searching the shop, “all the apple cider donuts were sold by noon today, sorry” was the end product, told quite blatantly by the girl behind the cash register. I was about to lose my shit (internally I did for sure, I’ve never cussed so much), but then I realized this was a cute venue. A very cute miniature orchard was the perfect place to take basic white girl autumn photos and pretend like that’s what we meant to do in the first place.

Lauren is going to hate me for posting these, but she’s a babe so I have to. They’re great.

We pretended to pick apples, but there were bees around the apples as we found out half way through photos. I was quite excited as you can see.


and then for the best part. Me and my artsy self (not really artsy I just try hard to be), started taking pictures of a barn, and specifically this cute as heck cat we found roaming around the farm. They were great photos, or so I thought. After reevaluating, I came to the conclusion that I should give up on doing anything ever again. Sure, we got some good photos of the fake apple picking, hiding our despair and disappointment, but I managed to ruin that when I realized I took a bunch of pictures of a cat licking its balls in front of an artsy barn.

It was time to go home. With no donuts and only a few good photos that Lauren still doesn’t want me to post, I felt defeated. And then Lauren said the best thing she could.

Let’s go pick up some wine and binge watch Netflix.

So we did, and I had the brilliant idea of making apple cider donuts at home….I didn’t have apple cider though (of course, I’m a f*cking genius for that). With an alarming lack of anything I needed in my life besides the lovely glasses of wine the two of us had, we managed to whip together baked cinnamon sugar donuts and invite a few others over to enjoy in the donuts made with frustration and anger and tipsiness. Might I just say, we did a damn good job of making it seem like these donuts were an acceptable substitute.

And this is why I date my friends.

Odd Thoughts: November 5th on Caring

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve cared a lot. When I say “cared”, I mean I wanted to help everyone. Definitely got that from my mom, who works helping people on a daily basis at work and at home. I also just gave way too many fucks about how people thought of me and how my actions impacted others to the point that I just did whatever I thought would make everyone happy.

slight excuse to include Halloween and how cute my mama is in this post

But let’s start with caring through helping. I really love helping people; I sound like a fourth grader telling class on the first day about herself. It’s such a simple phrase, but it’s so essential to who I am. To me, it’s giving a shit about what matters in this world, and dedicating my time to it all. It started once my parents divorced, when I started caring for my brother and sister. All the nights I spent trying and failing, over and over and OVER, to cook dinner were to feed my brother and sister when my single mom was working across the country. That practice made me the mediocre, and slightly cocky, chef I am today (who am I kidding, I’m a bad ass in the kitchen). Giving a shit has brought me to having this blog you could say. I care so much for my friends and people around me (even though they know that I should be taking care of myself as I freak out over having five papers due the same day LOL I’M TOTALLY FINE). Through it all, the act of caring has always given me more than maybe I have given others. It has gotten me involved in community service, non-profit internships, working in an assisted living home, and even protesting in the sweltering heat in front of the White House.

I don’t say this to make myself sound better; it’s great to care but it’s also a fatal flaw at times. I’ve cared about people who don’t give a shit about my existence, or causes that just keep getting worse (aka climate change, but the bees aren’t dying at an alarming rate anymore WOOOO). There are instances, if culminated it would be days worth of time, that I have done things out of caring for something or someone that I’ll never get back.

And that goes with caring about what others think of me. When I was thirteen, I used to be so involved in what my “friends” thought of me, I’d do anything to please them. I gave up all the nerdy things I loved, wore makeup I didn’t even like, listened to some terrible music. For real though, I think we are kind of little balls of anxiety and wanting to please others at that age. It continued though into my relationship of four years when I would sacrifice the values I had to make it work, to make his parents like me, to appear normal. I was so enveloped in making everyone else happy towards the end of high school and the beginning of college that I didn’t do what I wanted or needed to do to make myself happy. My self-confidence wasn’t the best (not a shocker there, have you been on Instagram and seen those booty pics and started wondering if your booty will ever look like that and damn? no? ok….). I didn’t even dance; me not dancing is like me being dead. It’s my favorite thing to do on a Friday night and I suck at it, and I was keenly aware of this back then. I even used to care SO much about upsetting someone when I bumped into them, or when I would say my political opinion that they clearly disagreed with (I will you straight now, don’t worry; Trump is an asshole and so is Scott Pruitt).

Obviously, I’ve gotten to a point in my life where I have decided the best way to deal with caring about what others think is to just not care. 

I’m not perfect; I still sometimes care about things I am too good for, that we all are too good for. Sometimes, it’s about what others think. I’m not going to run around butt ass naked because I’m a free spirit child with no social boundaries, but I care if my friends think I look bad in a dress or if I’m being rude to someone. There are parts of me that care if my old friends ever gave a shit about me. I care about my ex-boyfriend’s well-being and his family, even if he doesn’t deserve it.

Just because I don’t care about what people think of me does not mean I don’t care about people.

I firmly believe caring, compassion, empathy are the only things we should be expected to do and contribute in this world. That includes taking action and showing that I truly do give a shit. There is nothing that can make me stop caring about people or the issues that matter to me. It makes a difference, in your my own life and hopefully someone else’s. I have always made the involuntary decision to give a shit about human beings and I don’t expect that to change.

A Letter to My Best Friend: Holly, I Miss You

Yes. I am supposed to be a food blogger, but I have rarely been talking about food lately.

Yes. I am writing this instead of doing my homework.

And yes. We haven’t talked in a long time Holly. I’ve been really busy, and I bet you have been as well. I hope your grandma is doing well and I hate you because it’s cold here and you’re probably on the beach half the time (or running away from alligators and trump supporters because isn’t that the entirety of Florida?) It’s been a long time since the moment I thought of writing this to actually getting around to it, but here it goes.

I miss you

I don’t mean to make this about me, but you are about the most constant thing in my life and I miss you all the time. When I was made fun of in middle school by my other friends, you stayed by my side no matter how fucking weird I was (and still am). We walked to Tratorias (a local pizza shop where the owner definitely thought we were a lesbian couple, nothing wrong with that) to eat and do homework every day of our sophomore year. The two of us got into Harry Potter WAY later than everyone else, and you put up with me never shutting the fuck up about Spain the first time I went. We went through many spirit weeks, homecomings, proms, parties, and reaaalllllyyyyy strange nights bumping Juicy-J in the car while driving around doing nothing (what can you really do in the suburbs at 17 years old).

Do you remember when we used to watch Doctor Who all night, get milkshakes, or when we used to *play* soccer on the football field and pretend like we were staring in the World Cup? Or when we would spend hours in the library at our community college messaging each other stupid photos on Facebook instead of actually doing work?  What about the days we would hike and nearly get lost and die except we were probably only 10 minutes away from home? How about Halloween when we dressed up together as literally the same person? (If you haven’t watched Doctor Who, gtfo, get woke, and read this all over again)

I’m being too nostalgic, I know. I’m like an old woman recounting her good days to her house full of cats (totally not my future….)

I know I disappoint you because I make bad decisions; kiss boys I shouldn’t, and tell awful jokes that make you cringe every time. I realize I should make an effort more to actually tell you this in person but here it is right now (and I can’t make any promises to do anything on time, you know who I am as a person and it’s just not possible).

Things haven’t necessarily been easy, and you know that. My home, my college, friends, boyfriends, area of study, career choice, plans in life in general, understanding of the universe?!?! , my writing ability (whattttt) have all changed; hopefully for the better. Sometimes, I feel like I’ve changed completely over, maybe even a few times. I wish you were here right now so I could tell you all about how my life got twist turned upside down….. no? not funny?  Honestly, I can never tell if the change is for the better until I see you. It’s quite possible you feel the same way. Life is funny that way, but I will tell you one thing;

I will never change so much to the point where you’re not my best friend. It’s just not possible.

I have never met anyone so brave, unique, and honest to who she is as a person, and no matter how we both change, I’ll respect you forever because of it. Not only that, but you’re just an amazingly understanding and patient person. You’ve been there for me through some of the most difficult times in my life and made me feel like there was a future when it seemed like there was nothing but darkness. I love you Holly and sometimes I wish we were both born liking vagina because we would be perfect wives together, but I’m so happy to have you as my best friend.

Please come home soon.

Oddly Dating: Tianxin and La Pupuseria

First of all, I just want to say I think it’s a beautiful thing that a Norwegian/Irish white girl and a Chinese girl can walk into a Salvadoran restaurant to get food without even the thought of how none of this would be possible without globalization and how we are all beautifully connected, especially by food. I mean, all of the waitresses still looked at us like “what are these non-latino bitches doing in here?” but still, beautiful.

Okay, I’m done trying to be deep and philosophical. Let’s talk about MY DATE, one of the most amazing people I know and truly one of the best friends I’ve ever had, Tianxin. This girl is the whole package, and I am not just saying that (actually super jealous low-key but now it’s high-key).  She’s going to hate me for writing this because she’s incredibly modest, but this female is amazing at everything she does. Her artistic talent touches upon every aspect of her life, whether it is her photographic eye, cooking videos on her snapchat, her bomb ass outfits; it doesn’t matter (she’s also a sassy hoe but we will get to that later).

Naturally then, she had to be my first date. The two of us go to University of Maryland, making it incredibly easy to get to Washington D.C. I’m not sure if you know this, but there are a lot of amazing restaurants there that I never shut up about. However, that’s not where we went. College Park, Maryland may not be the same type of cultural hub with vibing lunch spots, more like hungover college students in line for Bagel Place repeatedly saying “I want to die” and “what did I do last night?” (I can’t honestly say that hasn’t been me… on numerous occasions). But the two of us really appreciate authenticity… and cheapness, and for that I knew just the place. La Pupuseria.

Authentic Salvadoran pupusas and chicken tamales on a beautiful, hot as hell fall day

just a side note, the weather in Maryland has been so hot I’ve woken up questioning where I am, if I will survive (because my A.C. is broken), and also how people can be so not woke as to deny climate change. I’m here sweating my ass off and it’s October; that’s not okay, I should be freezing my ass off.

If you don’t know what pupusas are, I’m so sorry. It’s not too late for you to enjoy life. Go out and get yourself one of those

tortillas stuffed with cheese and goodness ASAP. Our waitress approached and guess who didn’t speak Spanish because her date ordered for her?! (I’m dying to practice my Spanish, it is so weak after coming back from Spain).  Tianxin and I sat by the window. “Good natural light, great for pictures,” she told me. Chicken tamales, pupusas with beans and chiccaron (pork, SO GOOD). And these were enjoyed along with the wonderful conversation. People probably think we hate each other. There’s no end to the sarcasm and bitch fest between the two of us if we are being honest. Tianxin tells me straight when I’m being a whiny bitch, or when I really need to stop trying to drunkenly cook for everyone on a Saturday night (unless of course she’s just as gone as I am, and none of my friends say no though so this is going to keep happening). Tianxin is a real friend and a fucking pleasure to be around. 

We waited for our food among the sounds of Spanish music and the Barcelona game on the television. It all seemed to be drowned out as the two of us talked about school (or maybe we were crying?), my drama filled life (as you can tell from my blog), and how much it sucks when someone is attractive but their personality isn’t.

My birthgiver (my mom, that’s what I call my mom) always told me, “looks are only the price of admission.” What she meant was, attraction is only the first step towards engagement. It’s not having your cake, or eating it, or both. Not even close man. It’s cool if you’re really cute, but if you don’t care about anything, if you don’t have interests or any sort of passion, I think it should be pretty obvious where you’re going with someone who does; nowhere.

So we babbled on, but I still wanted to practice my Spanish. If you hadn’t already seen from my blog posts, instagram, snapchat stories, facebook, literally everything I do, I really love speaking Spanish (AND ALSO, I went to Spain. I know, I never talk about it…never). When our food came out, the waitress forgot to bring two forks. I went up to the counter and said in plain Spanish, “Do you have a fork?”

She answered in English. All of them looked at me confused, gave me the fork, and watched me walk back to my table super salty and disappointed. As Tianxin can tell you, I didn’t let this go, not even after eating the most amazing five dollar meal I’ve ever had. I don’t know if I can accurately describe in detail the feeling of eating something this good under $5. All I will say is,

It was fucking delicious.

I don’t think I could have asked for a more perfect date. And the next day, she didn’t even ghost me. She even listened to me complain again about my Spanish-less encounter. If that isn’t true love and luck, I don’t know what is.

Odd Thoughts: September 17th on Openness

Ok, first off, what the hell does openness mean? Because I’m currently taking a class taught by Martin O’Malley, former Governor of Maryland, and he keeps saying this word like every five minutes when talking about leaders. I must be an A-MAZING leader because it was brought to my attention lately that I share A LOT on here. The actual phrasing was “you overshare your shit Megan”


I used to be very closed off though, unwilling to tell anyone about all the times I’ve waved at someone, thinking they were waving at me, and then realizing they were looking at someone behind me. Or how about all the times I’ve set off the smoke detector cooking dinner for a date? and then falling off a chair trying to turn off said smoke detector? (None of these happened obviously, purely hypothetical….)

In all seriousness, I’ve become a open person in my life after entering college, breaking up with my ex-boyfriend, and going through a lot of family hardships. It has a lot to do with wanting others to not feel alone, but also with being comfortable with myself, which again, I wasn’t previously.

I know what it feels like to not have anyone to talk or relate to when it comes to how depression, anxiety, addiction, and lack of self-confidence can affect my life inside and out. It fucking sucks. When there’s no support system for you to lean on, life can feel unbearable. You don’t want to get out of bed maybe, without the ability to focus on even the most important things to you. It feels like you are constantly at a shitty frat party; no one can hear you trying to speak and a lot of dumb shit is happening around you.

That’s why I write this blog the way I do. I don’t necessarily talk about these darker topics of my life and the ones around me, because, to be honest, it’s not what I want to define me. But I will be incredibly honest and tell you about everything else. I’ll tell you how much of a human mistake I can possibly be on a daily basis because I’m ok with it. It’s alright to be a mess sometimes (or all the time in my case) and have issues. I am not alone in this and neither are you.

So yeah, I overshare. You  probably don’t need to know about the time I had to explain what tampons were to my host father in Spanish, or the never ending short romances of my life. I’d like to think though that these experiences of mine are relatable, and if not, at least funny. I’ll keep oversharing for you all, starting with my posts about friend dates this week woooo

Oddly Dating: A New Series

If you don’t know me personally, this title probably seems like I’m going to start sharing WAY too much information with the world. I guess even if you do know me, it still seems that way. I’m already a freak, so how is oddly dating different for me than regular dating?

Hear me out

I’m a single pringle, and I intend to stay that way after five years of being in and out of relationships. Doing things for myself is a necessity at this point which includes writing this blog!

So I had an idea.
Although I really want to be single right now and just chill out, I’m a huge fan of going out on dates and doing everything couples do, especially in the autumn. At first I thought:

“Maybe I should just go by myself, take myself out on dates and sit alone in a restaurant with no one to talk to yay….”

Maybe not.

Instead, I’m going to date like the odd person I am. I’m going to date my friends. All the art gallery visits, hole-in-the-wall DC restaurant dinners, zoo trips, and farmers market adventures I can’t get enough of are going to be times spent with a lucky friend each time. And no, I’m not some lonely cat lady even though there’s literally nothing wrong with that (rock on my feline females). I wrote about recently not settling, getting what you want. That’s exactly what I’m doing; going out where I want with people I care about and not settling.

I’ll share all the juicy details here of the laughs at my not funny jokes and wine drunk gossipy nights. Stay tuned.