I'm Trying Not To Be Upset About Diesel

linking to Bossy instead of me. I mean, Bossy and I are virtually blogosphere twins. We both blog about John Cusack, which sounds more kinky than it is, really. We both blog about our hair. So help me understand. Is it my Lloyd Dobler finger puppet you don’t like?



Is it my bangs you’re afraid of?



Seriously Diesel, the only difference between us is that Bossy blogs about construction workers eating lunch on her lawn, and I blog about my French exchange student who diets. Do you have something against the French? Or diets?

Or is it me? My blogging about beer? My not blogging about beer? My couchsurfing? My Hamell stalking? My Jeff Tweedy? My Cher doll?

Dude, is it Ringo?

Or maybe it’s because JD does things for me, which sounds more kinky than it is, really.

Or maybe it’s because I keep posting this photo, which seems more kinky than it is, really.



Is it because I gave that award to Brent and not to you? Cause dude, I’ve got something even better in store for you. And by in store here, I mean in my Etsy shop.

That’s right. In order to get into your good graces I have named a pair of earrings after you: Diesel Dangly Earrings. They’re fun and flirty just like me, just like Bossy. But you won’t find them on Bossy’s site. They are a Meg exclusive.



And wait…there’s more:

I’ll also be hosting my first caption contest soon with the prize being your book, Antisocial Commentary. That is, after I win the book from you first--which means I’ll have to actually enter your caption contests, which I will--once I finish my video, Meg Loves Diesel.

Call me a whore, it wouldn't be the first time I've heard that. And “to get into your good graces” sounds kinky and is intended to.

You can vote for this post at Humor-Blogs where there is a lot more behind the scenes drama than you might think. Unless, of course, you hate my bangs too.

How Do You Say 'I Suck' In French?

Teen is away at Christian camp for the week (he only joined Young Life for the pizza parties) and that means not only am I in charge of cooking for our French exchange student, Sacha, but I’m also chief social director.

Failed Outing 1 – I drive 35 minutes to the beach and no one gets in the water. So what if you can see a nuclear power plant on the opposite shore?


This is Sacha not wearing a swimsuit. Notice the headphones.

Failed Outing 2 – We take a bike ride along a parks trial and Ten-Year Old gets tired quickly and refuses to continue. It takes us an hour to walk the bikes back home.

Failed Outing 3 – I drive 55 miles to the Ann Arbor Art Fair only to discover the kids don’t like looking at art with 10,000 other people on a 92 degree day. I am certain the Mongolian Barbeque will be a hit. It isn’t. Sacha only eats a small salad, and by small I mean a serving size that actually fits in your palm just like Weight Watchers recommends.


This is Ten-Year Old at the fair in one of the happier moments

Failed Outing 4 – We see the Celtic rock band Seven Nations at a local pub. I look over at Sacha, who is always listening to hip hop through his giant headphones (see above), and notice his fingers plugging his ears. His fingers plugging his ears!!! And the bagpiper hasn’t even started yet!!!



Clearly I need help. Any suggestions?

I also need to maintain my ratings at Humor-Blogs. Please click for me so I can feel good about something in my life.

In Which I Lose The Battle

Day Five. Did you ever have a situation where you were really into what you’re doing—like blogging, for example—and the phone rings with the person on the other end requesting something of you. And you can’t wait to get back to what you were doing—like blogging, for example—so you agree to it just to hang up the phone?

Hi Meg. I’m calling to see if you can bring snacks to the next game?

Sure. No problem. Click.

Hello. This is Beth Thomas. I’m in charge of recruiting volunteers for the Blue and Gold banquet and …

Sign me up. Click.

It’s Yvonne. I’m looking for families to host French exchange students for three weeks…

Count us in. Click.

And then you go back to what you were doing, like not blogging about beer, for example, and suddenly terror strikes. Did she say French exchange student? Did she say three weeks? Did I say yes? OMG. I think I said yes. I did. I did. I did say yes.

I said yes to opening up our dysfunctional home to a complete stranger who talks funny and, and, is from France. And, and, in France they like eat real food…which means I have to cook real food. And, and, ramen is probably not considered real food.

OMG. OMG. OMG.

Well, I had one of those situations recently.

Meet Sacha -- A French exchange student of Algerian descent:



Thankfully our lovely friends invited us to their Slovenian Heritage festival so Sacha got to eat real food. He also got to meet:

This American of Slovenian descent



This American of Scottish descent



These Irish step dancers of Polish descent



(Actually, only one is a Irish step dancer. The others are hanger-on-ers.)

This guy from Parma and his fiancée who is obviously too hot for him



(Actually this is the guy who hired me to write about education reform based on my humorous essay about Leprechauns and his fiancée who is obviously too smart, I mean, too hot for him.)

This lawyer whose photo has appeared here by mistake



The American Guy of Slovenian Descent goes all out for his parties. There was the sheet cake of the Slovenian flag, the sausages from a Slovenian deli in Cleveland, and the time-honored Slovenian tradition of making smores by the campfire on a humid day in July. (Sacha liked that because it involved cute American girls whose heritage he couldn't have cared less about).

This Guy also travels far and wide so he can offer the best selection of Slovenian beer in the neighborhood. And I have to say the stuff is pretty good. I drank several of them and I can honestly tell you that my French improved immensely. And by 'my French' here I mean, speaking English in a Pepe LePew accent. Still, the beer was nice and had a medium body, smooth finish and a …Oops.

Wait a minute. I think...I think...I just broke my commitment of not blogging about beer. Crap. If only JD would blog about beer so I don't have to. Oh, well.

For more bloggers of Slovenian descent or hanger-on-ers, check out Humor-Blogs.

I Blog About Beer (Bottles) So JD Doesn't Have To

Day Four. JD at I Do Things So You Don't Have To does some nice stuff for me. She goes to nude beaches, she buys expensive chocolate, and she gets drunk--all so I don't have to bother (in truth, I have an interest in doing these things myself, but never mind).

Today I am returning the favor. I am blogging about beer (bottles) so JD doesn’t have to.

You see, my eBayer has some…how can I put this delicately…some mistaken notions. He makes a list of things to do and refers to it often so he can scratch off the tasks he’s completed. The list runs from Sunday to Saturday. Not only does it include things to do each day of the week, but it also lists primary goals, such as get a haircut.

I call his list the Billboard Top Ten. Things like play golf are the one hit wonders, making the list one day and quickly crossed out the next. Mow lawn, however, makes his list on Monday and remains on it through the week until he finally bribes the Teen to do on Saturday. Return beer bottles has been on the charts for a solid six months now.

We live near the border of a state that gives back a deposit on bottles. We don’t buy the beer in that state, mind you, but my eBayer figures he can make a few bucks by returning the bottles there. Which...how can I put this delicately...hasn’t happened.

Hence:



and:



and:



and:





Now I personally think having so many empties around sets a bad example for the children. JD, any chance you can return these beer bottles so I don’t have to?

And maybe the rest of you can click Humor-Blogs so I don't have to. This may mean scrolling down, clicking on "more posts" and then scrolling again. But thanks. I'm behind Honey Pie now and it's enough to get me to go back to blogging about...never mind.