Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Letter to Little Girls*

*Who should not be reading this blog! But I am not your mother so if you are, in fact, reading this, "thanks" & proceed.

Dear Little Girls,

I recently noticed all the toy commercials geared towards you advertising dolls that pee & poop.

For example



You CAN be anything you want to be, I just hope you aspire to greater things than wiping child butt for a living.

&



The worst part of this advertisement: "What will it be: puppy poo or puppy pee?"

Little girls, I know that at your tender age you look forward to a time when you will be in the position to nurture another living creature.

I urge you to rethink this desire.

When you reach your twenties, you'll actually avoid things that need your assistance peeing and pooping. Like babies, and puppies, and the elderly...

Saturday, March 27, 2010

The Day Midgets Became Little People

Growing up, my parents had all of these aspirations that I would be a genius.

As such, they devoted a lot of time to reading to me and making me recite the alphabet and count out loud.
The one place all of their teachings failed was political correctness.

Future Parents/Present Parents: It's over-stated but I'm not sure if people really take it seriously, your kids absorb EVERYTHING you say.

Case in Point:

My dad was reading Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs to me. I stopped him mid-story, "Daddy, what's a dwarf?"

This was the early 90's--the Keebler Elf and Lucky Charms Leprechaun ran rampant on daytime television commercials & he used these social references as teaching tools. That wasn't so bad.

Where my dad fucked up is the day I saw a little person out in real life. When you're a kid, every little person dressed in regular clothes looks like this:

And



And This



And Sometimes



I realize that the last two of these pictures are a troll and the smurfs but I was seven, okay? I just assumed all little people were magical by association--why else would they be so small if not because they lived in trees and hid cereal from children all day?

Anyway, so baby Lauren is out and about with my family and I see a little person.
"Daddy, look!" I pointed at the poor fellow, "It's a dwarf!"

"No baby, that's a midget."

He didn't explain that midgets aren't magical so I just assumed midgets were in the dwarf family with the trolls and gnomes and leprechauns. He also didn't explain that midget was a mean word. I'm almost sure that little people prefer to be called dwarfs as opposed to midgets.

In my dad's defense, he's not from here and English is his second language. He started speaking English when he turned 17 and was stationed in the United States after joining the army. What I'm trying to get at is if someone told him that little people were called midgets in English, he probably would have believed them without questioning it.

So I went on believing that little people were magic.

Anytime I would see them at the grocery stores or going on walks, my five-year-old heart would pitter patter with the knowledge that our world was a magical place. Believing little people were straight out of the fairy tale books practically validated every fairy tale I had ever heard. One day after school, I was standing outside waiting for my mom to pick me up. I was standing with a group of girls from my class and a little person walked by the school yard. He was young, even kind of handsome, and wearing faded, torn jeans with a leather jacket. He totally nailed the 90's grunge fad.

I was so excited; I'd only ever seen little people at grown up places or when I was with my parents. But now, I was with my friends and I wanted them to share my enthusiasm.
I proudly pointed my right index finger in his direction, got my friends' attention and said, "Look guys, it's a midget!"
The man slowed down, he looked at me and said, "Yeah, I could call you a name, too," and then kept walking.

I was crushed. I didn't know exactly what he meant but I could tell he was mad at me. When my mom came and noticed I was sad, I relayed the entire situation. After reflecting, I added, "You know what, mommy? I think he was a goblin. That explains why he was so small and nasty."

And my mom told me, "No, sweet heart. You just hurt his feelings. First, you know better than to point. And second, midget is a mean word; they're called Little people. It's not your fault, but now that you know, don't use that word anymore." She also explained to me that just like some people are really tall, some people are also smaller than everyone else--but it doesn't make them magic.

Fortunately, this still didn't tarnish my belief in a magic world, I was a stubborn five year old.

Note: I added the picture of the treasure trolls as an after thought. Talking about trolls reminded me of how I preferred trolls to Barbies when I was a little girl. I was super strange until...still.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Seven Amazing* Facts

I apologized to you guys last week for not being here & then ran off & did it again.

I am sorry for hittin' & quittin' guys, truly I am.

Okay, so now I promise to be more consistent, it's just that I was gone for Spring Break--there were computers around but...

hey, hey, hey; don't give me that look!
I said I'm sorry--what more do you want from me???

Baby, I didn't mean it--please take me back.

K, I hope we're good now.

So, while I was gone, I recieved my second blogger award! It looks like this:

here goes my acceptance speech: "Oh, wow. This is so unexpected. *wipes tears* You guys like me, you really, really like me! I'd like to thank God, my parents, my readers. But most importantly, I'd like to thank LEXA at Cardiac Outbursts (& thanks for the kind words, as well!!!) & KATE at 2010 -->you guys are amazing! ♥

It really does mean something to me to recieve praise from other writers. Like you have no idea.

Much in the format of my last post, this award comes with chain-letter rules, of which, I will only include the two rules that state I must thank the people who bestowed this award upon me & that I must share 7 facts about myself. My reason for excluding the other two rules (Passing the award on & informing the winners is): I do not have any one to give the award to whom I have not either already given last week's award to OR who has not given me an award. It's not like I'm never going to do it--it's just going to take me some time while I meet other writers! So it's really like I'm procrastinating... which is better, right?

Let's just get to the list:

1.) My sophomore year of college, for some reason, I never attended Political Science 206. It seemed like a good idea; there was a shop across the street from my parking lot that sold the lecture notes from the class & I was relatively certain all of the test material came from those notes. I only showed up to the tests. I had a solid B--didn't study for the final, flunked it, finished the course with a C. I'm telling you this because for the past two years, as a result of not attending Polisci that semester, I have these recurring nightmares where I realize I've registered for a course and then just didn't go & missed the first two tests. So in my dreams, I'm always freaking out because I've already missed the drop deadline and I'm going to have an F on my transcript which will definitely prevent me from securing a seat in a law school program. I wake up from these dreams counting out my classes to make sure I've gone to all of them. Sometimes I have to check my agenda to make sure I haven't missed anything important on accident.
Incidentally, the week prior to spring break, I hustled to attend this extra credit lecture and write a synopsis of it for my gender & society class. Spent the rest of the week spazzing about Miss Greek. Missed a quiz. Fortunately, the extra credit was EXACTLY enough points to cover the missing quiz grade, but it's almost self defeating, right? Isn't that a bitch?

2.) I have a nasty habit of peeling the skin off my lips.
--> I don't even know why I do it! Whenever they get chapped, there I go, peeling off the dry skin. I could just start using chapstick & break this habit but I somehow always forget.

3.) Almost my entire closet is monochromatic.
Oooh! Just busted out an art term on you! Basically all of my clothes fall into 4 categories: Black, Grey, White, Blue. Even my bedspread and curtains are black and white--they match my makeup bag & Shakespeare's dog dishes. I don't know when it happened, but when I noticed, I started trying to introduce actual colors into my closet. I'm taking it one step at a time.

4.) I went through this very creepy "creepy girl" phase for a short time in high school.
Or was it a short time? I'd like to think so, but I could be under-exaggerating for the sake of my pride.
I wasn't gothic. & being a creep and being gothic are totally different. That's not what I'm trying to say. I was just uber morbid & I spent money on these creepy little dolls
This isn't my picture, but I do actually own the first, second, and fouth dolls from the left. ick.

& I dated really creepy guys.

I've gotten out of both of those habits, but now I still have the creepy dolls stacked in their coffins in the back of my closet (one is even signed by Elvira) & the injuries to my dignity from the creepy men.

Hopefully, I'll be able to sell the scary little dolls at the Half-Priced Books store here. The memories of creepy boyfriends and all the creepy antics I participated in--and was still participating in up until like a little over a year ago--I dunno, maybe just keep trying to suppress all of that...?

5.) Nothing motivates me more than a looming deadline.
I'm the BIGGEST procrastinator on the planet. But 3 hours before the test/paper is due--I GET SHIT DONE! I firmly believe that if notified 6 hours ahead that the world was going to end, I could adequately solve all of humanity's problems just as the giant meteor struck the planet.



I'm including this video specifically for Demetri Martin's procrastination pie chart...

6.) My favorite city in the world, so far, is New Orleans.
I can't explain it, I just love it there. It could be because as part of my creepy adolescent phase I read Anne Rice prolifically so I feel like when I'm there, there's potentially a vampire saga ensuing around me & I'm unaware of it. It could be because it's where Tennesse Williams lived when he wrote, A Streetcar Named Desire. It could  be because my favorite Disney movie, The Princess and the Frog is centered in New Orleans--I couldn't tell you. Maybe it's the jazz and the blues, the food? the people? The rich history or the fact that the people had so much pride and love for their community that even with all the damage and loss inflicted by Katrina, the residents have managed to fully restore the HEART and Atmosphere? Dunno. But I love it. My second favorite cities are Washington, DC, London, and Austin.
Aaannnnd, I am super proud of NoLa for winning the super bowl! Cursed my ass! :)

Dear NoLa; God, do I miss you! Promise to come back soon. --♥ Lauren

7.) The one thing I ALWAYS make sure I do before visiting Mr. Flintstone or even going out dancing/drinking is: MAKING SURE MY TOES ARE DONE!
I'm talking about ped-egged, lotioned & exfoliated, & then painting my toenails.
In my old home town, guys used to pay attention to women's toes. I'm not sure if that's the custom else where on the planet but it definitely stuck with me.

And those are my facts! --> Again, thank you so much Lexa & Kate! ♥

Believe it or not, coming up with seven facts was FREAKING hard! I literally have been working on this post for a WEEK!

*word "amazing" used loosely.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

That's How Much I Love You

As previously mentioned, I spent the entirity of this previous week more or less in bed with someone special, who shall heretofore be referred to as "Mr. Flintstone."
I may not have taken it that far, but now you know.

I also just used the word previous in two different forms in the same sentence. But I digress...

Today, as I combed my hair, I caught a glimpse of something in my reflection.
My right arm was up and I thought I saw...
and then I lifted my arm all the way up and my fears were confirmed.

I had armpit stubble.

Literally, it's like lifting up your arms and finding a kitten or a Monchhichi...

"Salutations from the humid region of Lauren's armpit!"

& I had to question, why had I not noticed this? But more importantly, all these days that I was laying around in bed, one arm over my head; blissful, relaxed--had this already grown in?!? The last thing I need is to leave that kind of impression. I mean, it's been a year since we started seeing eachother, so hopefully any damage I could have done to tarnish his perception of me has already happened but I'm pretty sure most men question the character of a lady who forgets to shave her under arms...

In my own defense, I'd like to say at least I wasn't going anywhere important:


& I'd like to add that love is blind--so blind, infact, that in the midst of my lust-stricken euphoria I was completely oblivious to the national forest growing in my under arms. Hopefully, he takes it as a sign of my inability to focus on anything else when he's around & is totally flattered as opposed to repulsed.

...We shall see.

Babe, if you ever read this, I want you to know that it's all part of the package. Just kidding. THIS. WILL. NEVER. HAPPEN. AGAIN...EVER.

Monday, March 22, 2010

R.I.P. Spring Break

It's Monday.

That doesn't just suck because it's Monday like it regularly would. It sucks because Spring Break is over. My last undergraduate spring break.

I realized this today as my cell phone alarm went off at 7:45; leaving me blinking in the dark of my bedroom. Because I sleep with nick-@-nite on, I could hear Dora the Explorer prompting me to translate orders in Spanish.

"Why the fuck am I up?"

& the answer was--because you have to get dressed and go to art class now. It's Monday. Spring Break is over.

Fuck you, Monday!

It's not like I did anything super fantastic--well, I guess it was to me. I spent the entire week with possibly the most important person I know right now--important to me & not related.

& now it's gone.

I'd like to think it went by so fast in part because of the Earthquake that hit Chile, which tipped the Earth's axis, & made the days shorter. One might argue that the days are only shorter by mere miliseconds but I don't fuck around when it comes to my time off from school, especially since it's my senior year. That shit adds up, okay?

Tonight while I bs my way through a paper for gender & society, I'll take a break, grab my 40 from the fridge and pour a little out on the sidewalk in front of my house for my late holmes, Spring Break.

R.I.P. Spring Break 2010--you were so young.




All photos in this post are from Spring Break 2009 where I ventured to Panama City, FL.
... In case you were curious.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

"Whoa."

You guys, I'm sorry. I haven't been here in like a week.
I was craaazy busy because of the pageant I mentioned last blog (which, by the way, I came in as 1st runner up). Some may say "no one remembers #2," or "if you're not first you're last," but didn't that nursery rhyme say "0 is the hero [which would make the girl who came in last feel GREAT--except she came in 4th because they placed us all], 1st is the worst, 2nd is the BEST"<--so yeah, eat that! & moreover, I won $400 with my 2nd place victory! Booya, nay-sayers!
So yeah, one of the people in my very small pool of readers gave me this award:
Dear Kayla @Fashion Fades, Style is Eternal->thanks, bro! haha. This is the greatest thing that has ever happened to my blog, in life.

With all great things comes responsibility. In this case, there are rules:
1.)When you receive this award you must thank the person who awarded you in the new post.
2.) Name the 10 things that make you happy
3.) Pass this award onto 10 other bloggers and inform the winners

My 10 things that make me happy (In no particular order):

1.) Taking funny pictures, adding stupid captions

My Friend, Luis, & his giant cock.

I ♥ cock!
Okay, that was inappropriate, sorry.

2.) FULL THROTTLE: I drank one ONE TIME to help me stay up all night, now it is my favorite thing, ever.

3.) The number 3. -->Because my whole life is arranged in 3's. Not kidding. I could go into detail, but then I might seem like a crazy person & I'd prefer to save that for another day.
the number 3 was actually the inspiration behind my Om tattoo; I didn't want to get a number tattooed on me; people might think I was some sort of east LA chola...
You could make the argument that it's an E, but I see an upside down 3.

& this is the resulting tattoo!
4.) Shakespeare; Man & Dog--

My dog's name is Shakespeare, so named after the man who not only made me love English, but inspired me to be a creative writing major.

Cutest face in the wooorld.


This is a bad angle/picture of me but Shakespeare is rocking the camera.
The Man


5.) Selling things!
Like things I don't want any more--old text books & doing people's homework for money & creepy dolls in the back of my closet--> those things! I'm so happy to get rid of them, I'd give them away for any amount of money.
Like Plato's Closet bought some boots from me for $2.50--I didn't even care, I was just so happy to be rid of them.
But I also like donating! I'm super excited for the TAMU Undie Run this May because
A.) I'll get to donate some old, gently used clothes to a good cause.
B.) I'll get to take those old, gently used clothes off in public.
C.) Naked running in group form.

"We're streaking! We're going to the quad!..."

6.) Not Killing things...
Because, usually, keeping things alive is something I'm not good at.

Example:
This bamboo plant has been hanging on to life by a thread for approximately 4 years. I also kill ants who intrude into my living area...

But then I got an orchid plant for my 22nd birthday & the flowers fell off so I thought I was killing it BUT I  managed to keep it alive almost a whole year! Two weeks ago it had buds:
Lola, the orchid plant; a survivor!

& then this week, it had flowers:
Lola, being ravaged by my sister's dog, Coryatt.

My dog is also a notable survivor of my neglect.

7.) Scraping all the dead skin off my feet with Ped-Egg
My feet feel like they're wrapped in Satin afterwards...
& I secretly enjoy looking at all the dead, collected skin shavings after.

8.)  Reading!
I'm a HUGE book worm! 

Some of the things I like to read:

New Issues of GLAMOUR Magazine:

Pablo Neruda's Poetry

William Shakespeare Works<--I know, I just said that.


& I also read these books by Piers Anthony called the Xanth Series

Yes, they're Science Fiction; like with dragons & mermaids & shit. No, I have not played this game. I didn't even know it existed until I entered "Xanth" into google & this came up. Yes, I am sometimes embarassed at my own dorkiness.

9.)  Fried things

Like:

 
Fried Alligator

& beignets!

& Boat trash!

& Waffles! --> Although I'm not really sure if they count as fried...

10.) All the wonderful Nouns in my life.
People, Places, Things

Like my crazy friends:
Like Fall '06 at Monica & Anthony's New House!

Like my family!

Like my dad who also happens to be the greatest dad ev-a-r.


Like my super funny & smart big brother, Ray.


Like my amazing cousin Geenah & Titi Lucy

Like my Thrilla from Manila BFF, Darlene!

Like my Boheme Bombshell, Flor.

Like my Manager, Katie (on the right)
Manager in a figurative sense. This is my Line Sister Monica, Me, and Katie after Miss Greek; I'm saying "We're #2!"

Like my writer family, New Caney & Coppell

& concludes the list of 10 things that make me happy!-->although there are much more than 10, I'm not hard to please...

Okay so now the final portion of this blog; passing on the award;
I'd like to give this award to
1.) My cousin, Geenah at Okay, I feel better now
2.) My friend, NikiCoppell at Pheonix Rising
3.) Kevin Atteridg at Something Like That--for being the first person unrelated to me to read & follow my blog.
4.) R.Y.E. at R.Y.E. Blogs who was one of the first people to compliment my blog via 20SomethingBloggers

& umm...that's pretty much it. Maybe if I grow some balls, I'll work up the nerve to award Hyperbole & Half, The Sassy Curmudgeon, & Hipstercrite.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Throw Down For the Crown

Reader(s); you know how my little blurb under my blog title lists "shameless self promotion" as one of this blog's topics? Well here's one of those times where I will shamelessly self promote myself. The thing is reader (s), I'm running in this campus wide pageant at Texas A&M. I know what this sounds like; I AM NOT THAT KIND OF GIRL. Really, I'm not. I can't even explain how I ended up here.
But the point is, I need your help. Although you're most likely a good friend (or at least an associate) of mine, I can't take the chance that you're a stranger who doesn't know about this. I'm collecting online votes from now until 11:59 Tuesday night. & you can help by clicking HERE & opening the Miss Greek Tab on the left & then clicking my picture!

Because you could be a stranger, I am going to give you reasons why you should vote for me:
1. I can read
2. It's almost like we're friends since you get to read my thoughts and embarassing stories.
3. I am the underdog; but in a way where I could totally take this whole thing. Who doesn't love the underdog?
4. I'm good people about 85% of the time.-->I actually think the sorority I represent IS one of the Best sororities on the Texas A&M campus. We're minority based, service based, and we rock! We put a lot of good back into our communities.
5. If we meet each other in real life, ever, & you tell me about how you came across my blog & saw the link & voted for me online, I will totally stop what I'm doing, take you to a bar & buy you the shot of your choice; unless you're not of age, in which case, maybe a nice appetizer or dessert of some sort...?
6. I came up with the phrase "Throw down for the Crown" by myself; this shows you that I am not only clever, but also I feel it reinforces the claim I made in the introductory paragraph--seriously, pageants are NOT my dig.
& this is why I should be your Miss Greek 2010! the end?

No but really, please do it! If you don't, I'll send the creepy-scary-monster girl from all of the chain letters in the world to go after you.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Logic Fundamentals in Real Life!

Despite the fact that it snowed profusely (by East Texas standards) about two weeks ago, it is, in fact, Spring. This means the blossom trees on our campus have began...blossoming...

Aside from aesthetic charm and the reassurance that Spring Break will surely come, blossoms bring yet another contribution to the table; a very distinct odor.

I'd go into detail about this smell, but then I'd be getting ahead of myself. I'm saving this for later in the post.

While sitting on a bench beneath one of these blossom trees, a friend of mine commented on their smell:

Friend: "They're so pretty, it's weird that they stink so bad."

Me: "Yeah, I know. It kind of smells like old lady vagina, right?"

Friend: "I wouldn't have necessarily thought that until just now."

Me: "You know what? I kind of like it, though. It reminds me of my childhood."

Friend: "The smell?"

Me: "No, the blossoms. There were a lot blossom trees where I grew up. But I mean, I guess the smell, too. Do you remember that Axe commercial a couple of years ago that said smell is the strongest sense tied to memory? I guess my childhood would have to smell like blossoms."

Which is not necessarily a good thing, readers. My friend & I followed my statements to their logical conclusion using what we've learned in Philosophy 240;

If A then B, & if B then C, so if C then A.

Or (A-->B)& (B-->C) So (C-->A)

So

If my childhood smells of blossoms, And if blossoms smell like old woman vagina

Then the logical conclusion is

The smell of old vaginas reminds me of my childhood.

& I learned how to do that for the low cost college tuition!
My treat to you, no charge!

Friday, March 5, 2010

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes (or Cents and Sensibility)*

As part of this campus wide pageant I'm participating in, this last week, I've had to solicit monetary donations--generally in the form of seven to twelve cents at a time--from my peers. These donations are collected at the end of the week and given to the American Red Cross.

Although some feel that collecting change donations would be easy, you would not believe how much animosity a hungry person coming from Philosophy 240-501 can have towards one innocent young girl trying to raise money for the Red Cross.

I'm all like, "Howdy, sir! Would you like to donate to the American Red Cross?"

& he's like, "No. I'm good."

He says this as he's heading to the dining hall so I'm like, "Yeah, well you enjoy your lunch since the people in Haiti and Chile are starving. Bastard."

He turns around & I point at another pageant contestant.

Some people are nice. Like the unsuspecting middle school kids who visited our campus today:
Wondering whether they're going to help me


& then once I started pretending to cry the cash really flowed!


Dear children from Yes Prep: I am sorry for taking your money. I am trying to win a contest. Please do not harbor bad feeling towards Puerto Ricans or Texas A&M University.

There was also this guy that that gave me all the cash in his wallet. I almost asked him if I should get naked now or later...

Reader(s),

when someone asks you for donations, it's seriously okay to say, "I can't really afford it/ I'm not carrying cash/ I just donated," <-- even if it's a lie. It's way better than making eye contact with me but then staring at the ground when I start talking to you or ignoring my question while maintaining awkward eye contact.


Tuesday, March 2, 2010

I Am He As You Are He As You Are Me & We Are All Together...*

Reader(s),

this is one of those times I'm going to ask you not to judge me.

I've only done this twice, the other time was when I told you that I liked the Everybody's Free (to wear sunscreen) song.

What I have to say is this: I love cartoons.

<--Not, like, all of them. But I do get a lot of pleasure from coming home from school, falling into my green, corduroy fabric couch & watching Nickelodeon. I mean, I watch other stuff, too. But I like cartoons for the following reasons:
A) You don't have to think about them
B) You don't have to be emotionally involved to enjoy one
C) They're funny.

[I also tend to do everything in 3's, it's my favorite number...I rarely ever make it to D in a list]

This is going to be a big jump, but I hope you can come with me; I realized very recently that I am Squidward.

Why/How you might ask...
Like Me, Squidward is a guy is utterably dissatisfied with the company around him.

I don't know why I don't actually like most of the people I know, I'd like to think that it's because I've just been unlucky. Or maybe I'm an ass hole.

Moreover, Squidward finds himself surrounded by people who love him irreconcilably. This is true for my life, as well, & I'm aware that I don't necessarily deserve it.

Squidward, like myself, also derives pleasure from very simple things and occurences.
--> It's true, I'm thrilled by the most miniscule things; waking up on time, for instance...

And probably, the single most important thing we have in common; Squidward sees himself as a Jack-of-all-Trades. He paints, he sings, he dances, he tries to host his own tv show, he plays the clarinet, he gardens.
I paint, sing, try to dance, write this blog, and everything I touch dies...
Both of us are relatively good at a lot of things but Great at nothing.

At the root of this post is the concept that Squidward and I both operate a specific niche in our respective worlds--one that can only be filled by a bitter, curmudgeonly sort of person. What we bring to the table is a specific air of mediocrity and animus.

I also find that Squidward's facial expressions fully illustrate my feelings at differential points of the day:

Squidward illustrating my usual look of bewilderment...


Me in the Morning Before my can of Full Throttle...


Me, mid-afternoon, suffering the consequences of having Full Throttle and Coco Puffs for breakfast...


Me soliciting change from a fellow student as part of the Miss Greek 2010 competition...



Me in class, annoyed by the kid-sitting-next-to-me's dumb question...


Me, cramming for an exam, bothering a student with last minute questions.



& I apologize for all the pictures. I just wanted wanted to get my point across.

I'd actually also like to apologize for using Beatles' lyrics for the title of this crappy post and for having a semi-existential crisis at the expense of your time and attention (please don't tell my parents).

Fin