How I Met Meghan

May is Meghan Grandolfo’s Birthday Month. She was born on Monday, May 23, 1977. She was late. Very late. Like, not ever going to come out. Why should she? She had food, a comfy, warm environment. Someone else was carting her ass around at all times. It was an ideal Meghan situation. At one point, the doctor lost the sound of her heartbeat and told her poor mother that she would be born stillborn. When she was born pink and screaming, they slapped her ass and then they told her poor mother that our dear Meghan might be retarded. Another prophecy unfulfilled.

In honor of Meghan and her birthday month of May, I will include a special blog once a week (or whenever the mood strikes me – IT’S MY BLOG!) that will relate some fabulous tale of our long history together.

Meghan is the link in this whole kooky chain of fools that comprises TwerpsWorld. She deserves something spesh, don’t you think?

I didn’t remember the first time I ever met Meghan, aka The Dolf, aka Grandy, aka Meg (to family only). I just had to ask her and she reminded me that it was at the Phi Alpha party in Boston. We were brand spanking new Freshman at a small arts college called Emerson College, situated “in the heart of Boston.” She lived on my floor, two doors down in a quad with three other girls: Melissa, Jill, and Kimberly. Yes. That Kimberly. I do remember that party and I remember thinking it was lame and praying that I would soon acquire a taste for beer. I didn’t drink in High School. I was a good girl. SHUT UP.

Ok, so the very next memory I have of Meghan is a very spesh one. Our building was newly-renovated, and there were common rooms on each floor which contained a hot plate. I decided I would make a delicious meal out of Lipton Fettucine Alfredo Instant Nastiness, and when I arrived, Meghan was already there cooking up something equally horrifying. I still didn’t really know her at all, but I wasn’t uncomfortable with her. Somehow we got to talking about the unrequited loves we had left behind and we stayed there for hours discovering all our freakish similarities. Plus, if you’ve ever hung with Meghan, you know she’s a fucking excellent conversationalist. It was nice to meet someone with whom I could really have a discussion.

In October of that year (1995), I had all four of my wisdom teeth extracted at once. My mother insisted on driving up to be with me, and we were going to stay with a friend of the family in New Hampshire. The following conversation tells the tale of what happened next:

MusicLvrDee: I just kinda wandered in like, Wanna go to New Hampshire?
mgrandolfo: no, I was in your room and you were making the arrangements
MusicLvrDee: Oh
mgrandolfo: and then asked me if I wanted to go w/
MusicLvrDee: I thought I wandered in and asked you?
MusicLvrDee: Sweet!
mgrandolfo: no, it wasn't until the morning we were leaving that you wandered in half drunk on valium and almost woke all three of my roommates.

Yeah. Good times! Coincidentally, that’s where my drunk-dialing career began. I called everyone I knew that morning. It was 8 a.m. They were not too pleased, but I was feeling chatty.

That weekend solidified our budding friendship. I don’t recall doing too much except eating and hanging out, but it was awesome. Or so I’m told. I was kind of on painkillers. Anyway, she broke through my circle of two (Kelly and I did not socialize with others very much in our first few weeks of school. We had decided we were each the perfect roommate/friend, so why bother meeting other people? Once you meet the person you can stand on a chair and sing Foreigner songs at the top of your lungs to, what’s the point? Seriously.).

So, anyway, yeah. That’s how we met. Beer, boys, noodles, extracted teeth, New Hampshire. That was our honeymoon.

How did YOU meet Meghan???

Additional Features!
Meghan and I (and Muppetita) closely associate this time in our friendship with this song.
You know, what with all the unrequited love we were pining through.

I'm also currently obsessed with this song.