Monday, March 28, 2011

Really Quick From Class


(My friend) Rolph via facebook status update: is going to go on an overnight drunk, and in 10 days I'm going to set out to find the shark that ate my friend and destroy it. Anyone who wants to tag along is more than welcome.


Me: Okay, I'll bite: was your friend really eaten by a shark or is this a cry for attention?
---This is only funny if his friend wasn't really eaten. & also, using the word, "bite" was poorly thought out before hand.
 
Rolph: Both.
 
Me: My condolences. I've always thought that Snickers ice cream bar commercial was poor taste.
 
---& then I felt bad because (1) that joke was probably wasted since most don't spend as much time watching cartoons as I do...so like he may not have seen the commercial; (2) that joke was probably wasted because if his friend really was eaten by a shark, it wasn't funny;  (3) I was more concerned about my wasted joke than my friend's friend who was maimed and possibly killed by a shark.
 
and (4) for blogging about it...
 
While I was typing this, my best friend in class, Fats, just looked over at my computer.
Fats: *lifts eyebrow at my screen full of google images of sharks*
Me: "I'm writing a blog...about sharks..."
Fats: *rubs hands across face in disappointment*

UPDATE: I just found out this is from a movie. More precisely, from The Life Aquatic. I feel so much better now that I wasn't making fun of my friend's friend's death. Although, never having seen this movie, I'm still not sure that SOMEONE didn't die by shark attack... in which case, I'm still a terrible person.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Friends with Cookies

I've been meaning to write about spring break but law school was a mess last week.
Actually, I SHOULD be studying right this very minute, but I'm abdicating my responsibilities for the moment because, as my very good friend, Josef, pointed out, I've been only sporadically posting on my twitter and blog.

I'd like to come back with a bang & tell you about a very specific spring break 2011 memory.

It was a Sunday. The whole house was awake and I was in bed studying.
My friend, Bor, who was stashing his things in my room but sleeping in the condo's living room knocked and came in to grab some things for his shower.
"You're up studying?"
"I have to, man."
"You're on spring break, why don't you let your hair down a little?"
"There's no time for that. Plus, I am letting my hair down by being here."
"Well, I hope you don't let spring break slide past you. We're in South Padre, it's nice out. You're with all your friends. You should change into your bikini, come down stairs & grab a beer."
"Okay, I'll be right down." But I kept typing away.
Bor fumbled through his duffle bag, "Hey, do you want a cookie? It's the breakfast of champs."
"Cookie? What kind of cookie?"
"Chocolate chip, I made them myself." And he handed over a chunky specimen of perfection.
Cookies are my soft spot.
"Thanks, Bor." I broke off a piece of the chewy corner and put it in my mouth. "This is a pretty good cookie. When did you make these?"
"Just before we drove up here. I figured I'd get hungry on the road. I'm going to shower now but by the time I get out, you better be outside being social or I will come up here and turn your computer off."
"Haha, okay. I will."

& I did.
 I came down just as Bor had finished his shower and descending the stairs, heard him talking to Stones. "Look man, it's not that I'm being stingy. It's just that until I know how she's going to react, I probably shouldn't be giving them to everyone. I gave her the whole cookie & in retrospect, that probably wasn't a good idea. We should wait & see how she handles it & then once we know, we can all eat one before we go out."
I had this really uncomfortable feeling that Bor was talking about me, "hey guys. What are you two talking about?"
Stones: "You better tell her, man. Before that shit hits her blood stream and she starts freaking out."
Me: "Tell me what?"
Bor: "Okay, try not to freak out but like that cookie was not just a cookie... It was special."
Me: "What? Special? Special how?!"
Bor: "I just wanted you to have a good time and forget about school for a little while. Just chill out & enjoy it."
Me: "...You fed me drugs?"
Bor: "It sounds so bad when you say it like that. Look, I did you a favor. Just relax. We're all going to the beach in a little & I promise to look after you."
Me: "BOR! I can't believe you! What's going to happen to me?"
Bor: "Calm down. Nothing's going to happen to you. You'll be fine. Just enjoy it."

Is it strange that part of me wanted to cry?
Probably not. Bor told me that some people experience anxiety.

For a few minutes after, I felt like a normal person.
It wasn't until I asked Darlene to braid my bangs back that I realized something was wrong.

Me: "It's weird. Like in real life when you touch me, like...I feel it. But it's like right now, it feels different."
Darlene: "That's because you ate one of Bor's cookies."
Me: "Like, I can feel everything.  Like everytime your leg bumps into my knee, I feel it. & I know I'd feel it either way but like normally I wouldn't be making mental notes of it. But right now it's like 'BAM! She just bumped into me.' It's like heightened."
Darlene: "That's because you ate one of Bor's cookies."
Me: "Did you say that already or did I make that up? Okay but like I feel like you're not understanding me. Everything's so weird."
Darlene: "It's going to be okay. We're going to go to the beach. You're going to dance and get a tan. We'll come home & you can nap before we go out."
Me: *rubbing my hands across my face* "Oh. My. Goooosh. That was such a long list."

Seven minutes later, we were sitting on the curb waiting for a bus to take us to Coca Cola beach.
I was sitting on the asphalt, scooting a pebble around with my index finger when I burst out, "This is taking FOREVER. I thought you said a bus was coming in 10 minutes? It's so warm. If I had a snuggie, I'd take a nap right  here. Why. Didn't. I. Wear. Pants?!?"
Darlene turned around and stroked my hair.
Stones checked his watch, "It's been four minutes. Literally."
Bor scratched his head, "A whole cookie was a bad choice. Now we know."
I suddenly got irritable, "I AM NOT A GUINEA PIG. IamNotaGuineaPig! And you!" I spun to face Darlene and pointed at her, "STOP PETTING ME LIKE I'M A FREAKING GUINEA PIG OR SOMETHING!" I then sat back down & resumed scooting the pebble about.
Bor: "See, Stones, aren't you glad I didn't give a cookie?"

Six minutes later, the bus came. My friends sat in the first two rows which were empty and though I easily could have sat with them, I continued walking until I found a greasy older gentleman sitting by himself. I sat down beside him and stared at him for five minutes without interruption. He was unphazed. Probably because he was too distracted taking pictures of girls walking by in bathing suits on his camera phone. Still staring at him I said, "I...I don't think you've noticed me staring at you this whole time but my throat's super dry; it's like my mouth is full of cotton...or sand. You are SUCH a creep." I said that entire thing super slowly though because I couldn't seem to speak at my normal speed or inflection.

We got off the bus and went to the beach. I spent the entire three hours dazed standing in the crowd. I got super annoyed when people splashed me with beer; it felt like I was being pelted with ice. Which is not normal.
We left the beach, I took a nap & midway through said nap, I got a phone call.
I didn't even recognize the number but for some reason assumed it was my beloved, Mr. Flintstone.
So I'm listening to this person ramble on and on about South By SouthWest and finally stopped them to say,
"Baby, it sounds like you're having so much fun. I miss you, I miss you so much..."
There was silence on the other end.
"...Babe...?"
"Lauren, all you alright?"
"Yeah, why do you ask?"
"Do you know who this is?"
I pulled the phone back from my ear and checked. I didn't even have the number saved, "...No."
"This is Joey. Who do you think you're talking to?"
"I...I'm really sorry. I'm not myself today. I thought maybe you were my boyfriend because you're calling from a number I don't have saved & the area code is Austin."

& shortly after that conversation, I got ready to go out with my friends.
But I didn't have a good time:

At the end of the night, still not feeling like myself, I crawled into my bed and sent Mr. Flintstone a text:
"Hey you, the beach is great but I'm honestly ready to come back and see your gorgeous face."

To which he endearingly responded, "Are you drunk?"

But three days later, I was ecstatic to see him; and that's not just the cookie talking.
Readers, feast your eyes on the man of my dreams' totally cute back of his head (& his dog).

So that's just one of my spring break stories from this year & there's def at least one more in the making & coming soon.

I think that what I learned from this invaluable experience is that you can't trust friends with cookies who offer them without provocation...because they might secretly be using you as a guinea pig.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Basically

So basically, it's like this:

On our first date, I remember packing all these cute clothes. I got to Darlene's, unpacked, & all I had was black tank tops & jeans? I didn't even remember to pack my hair brush, deodorant, or toothpaste.

I'd lost my ability focus & I knew I was in trouble.

Maybe it didn't hit me right then and there when I unpacked.
But something came crashing into me when I heard you ringing the door bell; when I heard you walking into the house--I was frozen.
I had to pep talk myself out of the room.
I had to stop in the hall and catch my breath before I said hi to you.

& that had never happened before.

I knew it when we sat down to eat & I was too embarassed to order.
Everything on the menu seemed dangerous:
what if it gives me gas?
            what if it makes my breath stink?
                    what if the spinach gets stuck in my teeth & I don't realize it until hours from now?

I knew I was in trouble a month later when I lit candles to my guardian angel, begging her to give me the strength to tell you no.
I knew I was in trouble as I occupied the space next to you in my bed, knowing that candle was doing nothing but burning.

I knew I was in trouble when, one by one, characteristic by characteristic, my idea of the perfect man began to diminish.
           Some girls make lists. & I was once one of them.
                      But slowly my idea of the perfect guy become just one thing
                                                 one single thing: you.

You're my list.
You're it.

& I know this is super mushy & girl-tastic
& you probably HATE it because you're SUCH a man.

But consider this all my fancy way of saying that I'd rather be arguing with you over your *shitty* taste in movies than be watching all the GREAT movies I like with someone who's not you.
I'd rather be in your bed listening to you have food poisoning from the chorizo at Whataburger than be in bed with someone who's not you.
&, if I've learned anything in the past week, it's that I'd rather be watching you play video games, or suffering through mini golf with you, or hanging out in your apartment waiting for you to get off work
than be at the beach without you.
Doing the most mundane things with you is great because I'm with you.
& that's how I know that nearly two years later, I'm still in trouble.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

They still have to fight off Godzilla

For a limited amount of time, the red cross is DOUBLING any amount donated on behalf of Japan.

You should do it: CLICK HERE!

I came across this great deal through my living social account & this is the FIRST coupon I'm purchasing from them.

So readers, I implore you.
I, myself, just feel super blessed to be safe in my boyfriend's bed, studying and cuddling.
I just came back from an amazing four day trip to the beach and am just enjoying the remaining days of spring break. In times like this, when I'm so happy and relaxed, it's easy to forget (if not hard to remember) that people everywhere are down on their luck.
But that's exactly why we SHOULD donate; because we are so fortunate and healthy and alive.
Because you won't miss $5 as much as they'll appreciate it.

& if you're still skeptical, do it because you love sushi, or robots, or the power rangers...
or because the sooner Japan is back on its feet, the sooner they can resume saving us all from Godzilla.



Pick a reason, any reason & do something great today.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Just not comfortable

So, I won't name names because I don't want to defame anyone or post something that is a clear mis-interpretation.
But, I just read one of my favorite fashion blogger's separate mom blog.
Like, you know, her blog about being a new mom.

& I'm totally not judging.
But like, she posted... oh, gosh, I can't even talk about it.

...she posted about how her mom almost cooked her placenta thinking it was beef.

Like...

So I guess she gave birth at home and had the option of keeping her placenta...which she did.
She put it in the freezer so that she could bury it later and plant a tree on top of it to commemorate the birth of her first child.

I'm just not comfortable...

Babies, in general, kind of freak me out with their lack of communication skills and vulnerability.

Birthing DEFINITELY freaks me out.
Whenever I think of anyone giving birth, for some reason I always think of that scene from Alien; the one where the alien bursts through the guy's stomach.


And then in Space Balls, the alien starts singing show tunes...
But I digress.

Maybe the part that freaks me out the most is I can think of a MILLION other things I'd say when the doctor asks me what to do with my placenta:
"burn it"
"eww, I don't know. Just get rid of it."
"Sell it on e-bay."

Probably the last thing I'd ever think to say is
"Put it in a bag. I'm taking it home. I'm going to plant a tree. A baby tree."
-->& I know she's not trying to plant a baby tree. I can see how special planting a tree on top of your placenta is to memorialize the day you pushed another life out of your pelvis...
But I don't know. I'm in San Antonio now so I feel like the likelihood that it would stay planted is slim by comparison to the likelihood of a coyote digging it up and carrying it off into the night...

Lately

So, this Friday my first ever law school brief is due; it counts for my ENTIRE grade in legal research and writing.
Needless to say, a lot of things have gone neglected since I undertook writing it; my dog, my personal hygiene (just joking), my other homework...

But, I feel very proud to announce that it is FINALLY finished.
Well, sort of--I meet with my professor tomorrow to go over last minute details and make corrections but that's it!

Worth noting: I was serious about neglecting stuff since I started this brief--like, Shakespeare had to go to my moms because I felt bad for him. I mean, look at this face:


He was super bored with my studying...

...and apparently, not having it.

In the time that I've began studying and prepping for this paper, I also noticed that my new orchid, Coco, wasn't doing so well... like, I'm pretty sure she's on the brink of death.

Note how Coco is shrinking and withering in the corner...
Lola, on the other hand has been flourishing; she put out her first buds just a couple of weeks ago & now is in full bloom.
 I'm pretty sure the drastic difference between these two plans has everything to do with the fact that Lola has aquaglobes. All this time, I thought I was super amazing at keeping things alive because Lola is the first plant I've ever had to survive beyond 3 months. I bought her special orchid soil, special orchid food, replant her...but no, the orchid soil, food, and new pot have done NOTHING for Coco.
I went combing the city for aquaglobes last weekend; turns out they're a seasonal item & won't be on shelves again till mid-April. I'm just hoping I can manage to NOT kill Coco in that time.
& on a separate note, I don't know why I named my orchids...I think I heard somewhere plant growth is stimulated by affection so like I thought...nevermind. It's not important. I think though, that there is a possibility that I'll end up being an old orchid lady--as opposed to cat lady. No joke, I met with a PeaceCorps Recruiter last week & he was telling me all about his life changing experience with the youth of the Phillipines and asks if I have any questions & I'm like, "Can I take my orchid plant wherever I'm assigned?" He thought I was joking... I pretended I was...
I'm also not sure why I gave them both call girl names.-->Once again, I direct you to the fact that there is something subconsciously wrong with my brain.

Some photos from the delirium that was me studying for this brief:


Up late night, amused by anything that will distract me from my brief... it's a Brontosaurus.

Shakespeare; tired, unhappy, doesn't think I'm clever.


I convinced myself that this made sense as a way of organizing my
thoughts before beginning the writing for brief.

And finallly, I'll end this update with this:
I'm looking forward to spring break-->I'll get to spend some much needed time at the beach with my hot tamale bff, Darlene. Which is the best part; since I've started spring classes & she's back in school as well, it's been hard to see each other. Me+champagne+beach+pink lipgloss+Darlene=blowing my mind because I'm so excited for it.
ANNND, I'm excited to see Mr. Flintstone's gorgeous face on Wednesday, which as you likely guessed, means that we are once again, back ON/happy/in love/etcetera.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Speaking of Sight & Love Metaphors

LXVI

I do not love you--except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
from waiting to not waiting for you
my heart moves from the cold into

the fire. I love you only because it's you
I love; I hate you no end, and hating you
bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
is that I do not see you but love you

blindly. Maybe the January light will consume
my heart with its cruel
ray, stealing my key to true

calm. In this part of the story I am the one who
dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
because I love you, Love, in fire and in blood.

--Pablo Neruda

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Failure on the Spot

Recently, it's come to my attention that I'm not so good at coming up with stuff on the spot.

I have a bad case of blurting things out without thinking through them.
On the spot.

& it's always the strangest things. Like things I didn't even know I was thinking.

Last week, I had an appointment with my school's academic support office.
My friends were going to lunch, peer pressured me into going & I had a bad feeling I was going to be late.
So I called in.
I didn't want to say that I was going to be late because as we spoke I was in my friend's car en route to cheddars. Instead, I told her I was late because I had a doctor's appointment...an impromptu doctor's appointment.
The secretary for academic support is the sweetest lady ever, so she asks me if I'm okay.
I could have picked a million things to say. Anything literally would have been better than what I said.
But, before I knew it, I told her I'd found a suspicious lump in my chest and was going to see the doctor for an exam. "It's probably nothing, I'm a big hypochondriac. But you know, it never hurts to check...tissue samples and such..."
& the Lady says, "Aww, well, we'll keep you in our prayers."
You guys, I just lied to the sweetest woman in America...about having CANCER.
I am what's wrong with this country.

After I hung up, my friends started laughing hysterically.
"Why did it HAVE to be a lump in your chest?"
"Because I really did have one!" <--that's true. A couple of days before, I had some weird swelling near my collar bone. I asked my brother if he'd tell me if it felt weird & he reaches forward & then is like, "No, no, I cant. I just can't. It's too weird. But, on the upside, if you ARE dying we'll know for sure because it'll keep getting bigger."
It went away. I have no idea what it was but there's potential that it was a bee sting I'd recieved earlier that day that swelled up when I failed to remove the stinger. I'm not even sure I was stung by a bee but I did feel a little prick on my chest while walking Shakespeare and then see a bee fall to the ground. If I WAS stung by a bee, the stinger is still lodged into the skin by my collar bone...
Anyway.

So then today, in Constitutional Law, my professor calls on me and he asks me about factors university admissions can take into account when choosing future students. The case we're reading specifically mentions upper level course work and the professor asks me what that means.
So I'm like, "Ugh... I guess like the school would look at the student's transcript and see what kind of courses they've taken. Classes like 'Science of Cheese' would probably not be impressive."
...I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE THAT CAME FROM!

All these recent blurtings of random things has me concerned about the thoughts I'm subconciously thinking all the time. What's wrong with my brain?