This is Megan speaking, how may I help you?

I woke up at 3:00pm, and now I am writing my second post 26 days later. FAIL.
So prepare yourself for a ridiculously long blog of the past 26 days in the life of Megan.

---------------

Finally home. I must maximize this week! My goals are simple: eat as much Korean food as I possibly can, and somehow go to Disneyland 4 times before my pass expires on Wednesday.
Balloon: $7.
Churro + chocolate dipping sauce $3.50.
Screaming obnoxiously on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride and still laughing at the cheesy script I've memorized on the Jungle Cruise: priceless.

Session C was a bad choice.
Though I enjoy it way more than I should, a dilemma which I'll address later, the post office job has definitely been a silver lining to the past six weeks.
It fulfills my childhood dream of having a job someday where I could do the following fancy things: stamp stuff, swipe cards, fill out forms with signatures, cashier, and best of all....peel stickers and stick them on things--stickers referring to postage, CPU labels, and additional USPS goodies from confirmations to customs forms.

Of course, when I was this young and ambitious, I'd go around with my Sanrio and Lisa Frank sticker books, spreading my tacky flair on our t.v., dining table, my aunt etc...
Like most other little girls, I loved doodling and practicing my curly cursive signature and would pick up empty forms from EVERYWHERE so I could fill them out at home, pretend to round-date and swipe a fake credit card.

Oh, and how could I forget. I'd bake play-dough food, serve it on plastic Keroppi plates, slap on my awesometastic IKEA apron and serve my customers (i.e. reluctant parents and overly accommodating grandma who unfortunately bit into my beautiful play-dough cookie and went as far as chewing for a good 30 seconds). The make-believe restaurant satisfied my one-man business dream of cooking, wearing an apron, getting to put a notepad in my pocket, setting a table, and most importantly, cashiering!

I was quite the starry-eyed child. Ask my parents. I wanted to be a librarian or cashier or bank teller, because their job duties included some of those "cool" tasks which are all now incorporated at the post office. Can anyone say, dream job? =/

It's also nice to see some familiar faces--T.A.'s, professors, friends, peers--as well as all the diverse, international visitors on campus during the summer. I've made use of my semi-fluency in Korean, and my embarrassingly broken French, but whatever I said seemed to have made sense to the lady buying stamps for France. Except for the extremely cranky customers, I'm glad to serve and work with everyone else.

Basically, it's great. That's where I keep coming back to the same dilemma: What am I doing with my life!? With every job, internship, and volunteer work I've taken on, I've realized that one, I need to work with people, and two, I'm good with people. Everyone's got something. I love to service and accommodate..."Post Office Express, this is Megan speaking."

Interning at LA Film Festival got me thinking about that route, maybe running a hotel someday. I would go berserk from the design to customer service. Danny would have to be my design consultant.

Obviously, I've always loved teaching and working with children and I have some closure knowing that I can always turn to teaching after college. I could have gone to any Cal State or community college, received credentials and gone into teaching right away, but the last thing I want is to grow sick of teaching.

As much as I love the entertainment industry, I don't necessarily want to form a life's career in it if I cannot work in the creative department, and that is very unlikely =/

Life is such a pickle, and I know so many people are in the same pickle.

I just don't want to disappoint my parents and jump around as a temp for 3 years after I graduate college because I have no idea what the heck I want to do. The fact that I just turned 20 is certainly not helping.
My parents went through so much more, worked so much harder by their twenties than I have. They both came from Korea, plunged straight into college at the age of 18.
Both were barely speaking English and my mom excelled in literature and writing poetry of all things. She passed Shakespeare with a Korean-English dictionary. I still have a hard time just reading Shakespeare and would love to buy Shakespeare for dummies. Plus, she's incredibly computer savvy and taught math at my elem/JH school. Yes, I was in her class for two years! She never called on me. *tear*

And my dad...sigh. Cal Berkeley undergrad to UCLA grad to USC law.
His two younger brothers, doctor and engineer. What am I doing?!?

-------------

Aaaanyway, back to being home. My more substantial goals for this short week:

Read
-6 week's worth of the Los Angeles Times because the subscription actually went through...
-Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim
-The Little Prince in French because i love it / French 4 approaches and I'm screwed.

Watch
-Persepolis
-Brokeback Mountain. sorry Aldo! I will bring it back when I move in.
-Waitress. again because it is a darling film and I was distracted while watching it last night on On Demand (I'm going to miss HBO so much when I move in).

Write
-this freakin' blog, one post a day because my life is going to be that interesting...
-a short film for le directeur? i will try, i promise!
-more so get back into writing. I will be rummaging through my 20 year's worth of boxes to find my old poetry book and short stories I started writing when I was just a lass in 5th grade.

Eat
-anything
-everything

Misc
-play the piano everyday.
--As much as my dad and I fought about lessons and practicing, I know that music always made us both happy. Of course, just about everyone in my family played piano, but for my dad, it's not about playing to compete. He really just wants me to enjoy music and be able to sit down and play a tune to relax. I certainly do not want 10 years of lessons, competitions, festivals, and so very many recitals (stockings, grandma sweater, flowery dress and all) to have been a waste.
--Flighty, let's definitely look into sharing a keyboard.

---------------

Some memories from this summer session:

"Megan, you're 20 years old! You're gonna have to start putting yourself out there!" -Maral, after I refused to tag along with her to a party because "I'll just stand there and be sober and awkward"

"So hot." -Markus, after Slipknot came on the VMAs with their Hannibal masks, though he insists he was referring to how hot the apt. was

Those darn garlic cheese rolls from Italian Express +
don't ask it was 2 a.m. and we couldn't contain our laughter.

Righteous despite the overall hate from the critics. The dynamic duo has paid their dues and can do whatever they want. It can't be any worse than Lakeview Terrace, oh Samuel L.
Thanks again Alex!

Earning 5th place in Word Challenge. So many hours of my life dedicated to solving anagrams, with hopes that I have decreased the chances of getting Alzheimer's.

A simple, lovely birthday dinner.

Finally making it to the beach, just once, the entire summer. Thanks, Danny.

Living in l'hôtel de Sproul and getting to know so many of the front deskers.

Every family gathering. They keep me grounded.

The one time we went to Tiger Heat.
















such simple, easy living.

Last, but not least...



















but it shall never top



















- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

And now, an unnecessarily long, short story. I'd just like to say that this was the first time this has ever happened to me, and I was so panicked, even though I'm sure this happens daily for other people. So please enjoy this tale about me in all my fumbling glory.


I was working in the post office on Tuesday and this guy walks in wanting to sell textbooks as so many people have been doing all summer. He doesn't know how to go about this, and he hasn't discovered the magical, USPS secret of media mail. He is also extremely confused about how to package his textbooks.

I'm technically not supposed to suggest the cheapest options for the customer in terms of revealing the media mail option or advising that they can find more variety of packaging at the UCLA store, but I do anyway. I explain all the options he's got. We test out boxes and envelopes. I send him downstairs to the store, he comes back, deciding to go with the unmarked boxes we sell.
Up to this point, it had been pretty slow in the Post Office, people just buying stamps or mailing out small packets and such, which my co-worker was handling as I continued to help this guy.

Finally, the rush of the day came. There was a fairly long line out the door. The same guy comes back in ready to mail out his books. I recognized him, of course, greeted him with a friendly "hey, you're back."

Print, print, print. Stamp, stamp, stamp. Toss, toss, toss, his packages into the media mail bag.
I hand him his receipt, say my usual, "Thanks, have a good one!"
Then he replies, "So, I usually never do this..." I'm sure at this point, whoever is reading this can guess how this phrase usually ends. Of course, I'm completely oblivious, expecting him to just leave after he finishes his sentence. "...but would you like to have coffee sometime?"

First thought, "Ew, coffee." Then, I realize what he just said and now everything becomes incredibly awkward. Pretty embarrassing how the rest of it goes down.

I literally don't say anything for about a minute, starting to process the next package. The most I can get out is a sad, "--uh. uhmm..." I see the line of customers out the door and try to send him off. "I'm really busy right now."
Duh, Megan. But I couldn't think of anything else.
I'm pretty much panicking and dying of awkwardness inside. Finally he offers his number. I don't even think of giving him mine. He is nice, but I'm too freaked out by what is happening because this doesn't happen to me. This happens in movies and Gossip Girl. So awkward. Soooo drama.

Of course, there aren't any post-its or loose paper lying around and I'm panicking trying to help the next customer at the same time. So I fumble around and just give him the back of a CPU label to write on, because he's still just standing there. Aghhh, still dying inside.

He then offers his hand, "I'm Tony." I shake it, "Megan, nice meeting you."

I don't want to come off sounding mean in any way, but I was SO relieved when he left. Is it horrible to say that I didn't really intend to call him back, because I have no idea how to handle anything like that and it would have the most awkward cup of coffee, hot chocolate for me, ever. Unfortunately the label, given that it was going to be trash anyway, did get thrown out during closing.

Given my luck, and how much Jesus loves me, he'll come to the post office again and I'll have to be just as awkwardly charming as I was this time. Perhaps an extra minute before I reply with "uhm." Or even better, "I'm still busy," when the post office is bustling with one customer buying a stamp.

I do appreciate the compliment though. That was probably the most exciting social incident I've had in the boy department since getting asked to Homecoming with a fake report to a locker filled with: lime green skittles, a Canada Dry Ginger Ale, and other awesome snacks which the guy knew I liked. That was far less awkward, though, and much more appreciated.

I've concluded that e-harmony.com will lead to future happiness. If those ridiculously good-looking couples on t.v. could find true love, then by golly, so can I. If for some odd reason, e-harmony rejects me based on something unacceptable on my profile, I'm glad to know that match.com will gladly take me. Though, the fact that they'll take anyone is a bit janky/skeevy--two new words I learned this summer. Don't worry, you won't be hearing those words coming out of my mouth to describe anything "shady" or "sketch."

Until tomorrow, bye bye blog.