Friday, April 29, 2011


Wow, so when I started this blog, I never imagined I'd actually ever write on it.
I started this blog when it dawned on me that although I was a Creative Writing major, I was getting ready to graduate and my chances of ever doing any thing creative writing related as a career looked bleak. Especially because I'd already applied and been accepted into law school and had NO back up plan.
...And because I literally felt sometimes like I'd rather rip out my hair then come up with new creative works for writer's workshop class.
So what I'm getting at is I started this blog because I wanted to really work on my writing;
I wanted to get into the habit of writing & look forward to that time;
& I knew that God blessed me with not only a talent for writing, but also because He's consistently surrounding me with the type of characters and situations that DEMAND to be written about.

Today, I am happy to announce that this, my gorgeous, wonderful readers, is my 100th post! whoo-hoo!
If I could, I would totally pelt you with one of these to celebrate:

Those are empty egg shells full of confetti. Incidentally, they are part of my post & for the record, throwing confetti at people is definitely one of my favorite things...ever...

Last Thursday morning started the way any terrible day starts; terribly.
(sorry, once I started that sentence, I felt pigeon-holed and wasn't sure where else to go).

I stepped in dog poop with my bare foot.
I burned my hand while moving my flat iron.
My contact lense rolled into the back of my eye right after I put it on & I had to fish it out while simultaneously holding an orange freezer pop in the opposite hand trying to remedy the burn from my flat iron.
& this ALL occurred immediately after I got out of bed.
like before I'd even turned the lights on in my bed room.

Not to mention, I was running over 15 minutes late for my last day of my first year of law school classes.

But then I got to school & realized just how much I really love my life and for the first time, really acknowledged that I'm in exactly the right place at the right time. I think I've finally fallen into His plan for my life and I feel so privileged to be exactly here.

I don't mean to brag, but I don't think it's a coincedence that my brother lived in the city I was moving to; that my dad had just gotten a job here when I got my acceptance letter; or that after starting school, I met the three people I'm most compatible with in life.
So I get to school, sit through a very brief and inspiring final lecture with my favorite professor, go have breakfast with the Fab4 and on the way back, we stop to purchase confetti eggs from an elderly woman on the side of the street.
This is how I know I have met my soulmates in the Fab4: as we were leaving breakfast, I saw the women selling confetti eggs and said, "let's buy some!" & we turned the car around to go & buy them. Then, my friends and I had a mini photo shoot in front of all of these boxes with the word, "EGGS," printed on them and a Tattoo sign... because I thought it was funny. & I was super grateful that my friends entertain my strange sense of humor. The egg-peddling old women even got in some of the pictures.  They were very proud of their painted confetti confections.
We got back to campus, lured Krusts from the library under false pretenses and had an egg war in the soccer field.
After our final class, we took pictures to celebrate and I came home to study and prepare for the Fab4 dinner date. Somewhere on the way home, I realized that my love for my new life, my new friends, and my family turned what started off showing all the signs of a bad day into a glorious one.

I've never been so happy to be alive as I was in that one "AHA!" moment.

I can't think of a better way to celebrate my 100th post then to just express appreciation for all the people in my life who give me things to write about, make me laugh, and make even the most seemingly mundane days overflow with wonderful memories.
So thank you.
 You guys are the wind beneath my wings and I am completely in love with all of you,
and as always, with you reader.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011


I am always down for random "adventures."
Adventures is in quotations because I'm no Indiana Jones but I mean adventures in the sense that I will miss class on an idle Thursday to go to a tomato festival in Marfa. <--Which has NEVER happened before, but I SO would.

So today, although I've got a final in approximately 22 hours, my heart stopped when I found out through a friend's facebook post that my very first crush, ever in life was going to be in San Antonio at noon.
I'll give you a hint: he's an older, distinguished gentleman. Full head of blonde hair, blue eyes, still in great shape.
Yes, you guessed it. That man up there was my very FIRST crush at the tender age of 7.

I immediately texted the only person in the world that I knew would care, my big brother whose obsession with wrestling in our childhood was the catalyst behind my Hulk infatuation.
Me: "Hulk Hogan is in town today."
Ray: "What? Where?"
Me: "At the plaza across from the justice center at noon."
Ray: "Crap. I'm stuck at work. I would have taken my WWE All-Stars game to get signed."

It was already 11:15 but I was determined.
I walked into my brother's room where his girlfriend was getting dressed, "Hurry up, skank. We're going to meet Hulk Hogan, grab Ray's AllStar game!" & then got ready myself.
It was pretty hectic but we made it in time.

Once downtown, there were a bunch of people wearing Churches Chicken shirts and mariachi bands was weird.
Me: "...Are we in the right place?"
Sam: "I'll check. (gets online on phone) It says he's going to be here to conduct 'the world's largest chicken dance' for this promotion."
Me: "WHAT?!? So he's not even meeting people?"
Sam: "Doesn't look like it. You wanna just go home?"
Me: "I refuse! I came here to get Hulk Hogan's autograph & dammit, I will."

So we waited. It was awhile before Hulk even got on stage and I took note of the direction he came from so I could get his signature.
I'm not going to lie: it almost didn't happen. Hulk moved through the crowd being polite but didn't stop to give any autographs. I wanted to die.
But then, out of no where, he stops and starts signing stuff that people are holding up. I was right behind him and reached all the way over and GOT HIS AUTOGRAPH.
I felt like I'd just won...a race? I don't think it was lottery ticket status but I walked away feeling like a champ and knowing that my impromptu trip downtown was not all for naught.
& the best part is, I got the autograph on my brother's game so he's got a little piece of my proud moment to keep. :)

& thank God because it was hotter than the devil's testicles out there and I would have been a little down trodden if I had stopped studying just to go downtown and see Hulk do the chicken dance. pfft.
I literally imagined a scenario where I chased Hulk down the street screaming about how I was giving up valuable study time to stalk meet him. In fact, I think I might have shouted it when it seemed like he wasn't going to give any autographs... I'm SUCH an L7.

After that, since we were already downtown, Sam took me to her job (a fancy-schmancy restaurant) where I had a crunchy peanut butter sandwich with apricot jelly and froie was tasty but the more I thought about the fact that it was duck liver between my pb&j, the less appetizing it became.

& now I'm back home.
Pretending to study but blogging about my "adventure."

I think today was a success.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

I'm Not Dead

Hey Readers, I just wanted to pop in to tell you that my absence from blogging is NOT because I'm dead but because I'm buried underneath piles of text books and crazy scribble scrabbles mascerading as notes.

That's right, loves, it's final exam season at law school.
Or...My law school at least. I heard UT Law & UH Law aren't even going to begin testing until next week.

Anyway, I've been bugging out from energy drinks and so even when I've wanted to sleep, I couldn't.
This means I've had A LOT of time to think recently while lying in bed with my eyes closed trying to shut my brain off...or whatever. That would kill me but you know...all I want is sleep, dammit.

Last week, I tried to induce myself into sugar shock and fear so I'd stay awake and be productive. I have since learned that while I was awake, I was also paranoid from all the scary movies...and energy drinks... this was not conducive to productivity.

I haven't even had time to flat iron my hair so I've been test taking with my afro all week. Yesterday, one of my classmates was all, "Laurel, your hair is huge."
& I was like, "Yes, I'm hiding the test answers in it."
Which is another thing: Fab4 convinced me that it'd be funny to convince my classmates that my name is Laurel & I've just been letting everyone mis-pronounce my name. I actually like Laurel better. & YES, Law school IS that boring that this is actually entertaining.
So far, it's only for certain thrown off my next door neighbor. He facebooked me and was all, "Laurel? Why didn't you tell me I was saying your name wrong?" & I was like, "pssh. Don't worry about it. It basically happens ALL the time."

I also came to the conclusion that I'm going to try to curse and talk about genitalia less (ON THE BLOG).
Which is going to be hard for me because they're SUCH big parts of my life (hahaha, pun NOT intended but it was good) but you know, I guess this is a part of growing up.

Okay, and ONE OF YOU, has been clicking my ads: thanks! I'm up to $7.35 & frankly it's been A LONG TIME COMING. Although, I'm relatively certain that the click-er is Gaga. So thanks, you prostitute wench (does that violate the sentence preceding this one? Eh.)

I'm a disaster and being confronted by the fact as I type that I have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to talk about.
BUT: I have been sending weird picture texts to my friends lately (for fun & to confuse them) so here's a few recent ones:

& that, ladies and gentleman, is all I got.

good night.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Or wear an ear condomn next time

So, I was feebly attempting to study Friday night when unwarranted, unexpected, and quite confusingly, I recieved the following text from Gaga:
Or wear an ear condomn next time.
Me: ... what?
Gaga: Omg, you should be ashamed!
          Shame Shame on you! *
          Bad hag, Bad!
Me: ...What's going on here?
Gaga: You prostitute wench
Me: Lol. I don't understand.
Gaga: Oh. My. God. You little fame hooker. I can't believe you!
Me: Did you just send me those on accident?
Gaga: Hahahahaahaa
         Omg, Laurel, we are having a big issue right now.
Me: ...why?
Gaga: Those were lyrics from Judas.

(* breaks in line indicate separate texts.)

It should be noted that Gaga is so nick named because he is OBSESSED with Lady Gaga. Clever, right?
& earlier this day, he texted me: Omg, lady gaga's single "Judas" is out. I'm DYING. You need to listen to it, learn it, and LIVE it.

I apologized to Gaga for not keeping my promise to follow the above advice, laughed, and went back to my meager attempts to commit torts to memory. But then, 3 minutes later...

Fatty (via text): Or wear an ear condomn next time.
Me: Lol. Did Gaga just tell you?
Fatty: Tell me what???
To which I explained that Gaga (our man friend Gaga, not the Gaga known as Lady) had just sent me the EXACT SAME MESSAGE.
& then she said, Gaga & I are soul mates, obvi. (Again, man Gaga, not Lady Gaga).

Not wanting to leave Krusts out of the confusion, I text her:

Me: Or wear an ear condomn next time.
Krusts: ...What?
Me: Apparently, it's the new Lady Gaga single. Gaga & Fatty just sent me that lyric & I didn't want you to be left out. Don't worry, I reacted the EXACT SAME WAY AS YOU.
Krusts: Yeah, Gaga just sent me the same text & I was all wtf?

Golly-whiz, do I love the Fab4.


Friday, April 15, 2011

Sweet Nothings

Something I posted on Mr. Flintstone's facebook wall today:

Caption: I got the feeling that you missed me today. So I decided to leave something on your wall to ease the pain and remind you of our good times. ♥

To be my lover is truly one of the riches of the world.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

My big brother

Once, when I was three,  I choked on a life saver.
My ten year old brother casually came in the room, gave me the heimlich manuever, and went back to watching tv.
It was very cavalier.

I'd like to think that that was the moment when my big brother became my personal hero.
But honestly, it would be impossible for me to pin point exactly when my brother became the person I look up to most; I can't remember a time when my brother wasn't the coolest person on the planet in my eyes.

thanks for always being yourself--you're the reason I knew it was okay to be me; even if it meant always being eccentric.
thanks for saving my life. Not just that time, but I know now at 23 just how much time of your childhood and teen years were spent taking care of me. Even though I've never properly thanked you, I appreciate all the sacrifices you made.
thank you for being my role model--even if you never meant to be or never knew it, you have always been the person I aspire to be the most like:
                   You are intelligent--it comes out in your writing, wit, and perserverance. & on that note:
                   You are strong--you kept working towards your degree, even though you were combatting undiagnosed ADD & you succeeded.
                    You have a HUGE heart. Even though you keep that part of your personality to yourself, it peeks out every once in a while & more than that, you've made a difference to a lot of children all over Texas.

Finally, I just want to say, happy birthday & even though it was never up to you, thanks for being my big brother.


Thursday, April 7, 2011

Write It on Your Heart

this Saturday is the two year anniversary of Mr. Flintstone & I's first date.
He's coming to San Antonio; I'm taking him to eat oysters and various birthday celebrations. I might even break out my free movie passes. I know, I'm high class.
Don't tell him.

In anticipation of our special day, I made him a card last night.



I mean, I also filled in the card with sweet stuff about us & what not but I feel like that is too private for the blog... maybe on a different post.
The point is, Mr. Flintstone is going to get this card & be sufficiently weirded out by my sense of humor. He'll probably call me a hipster.
You know, every day relationship stuff.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Sounds Good to Me

Maybe I've been cheating myself.

Ever since I found out that it's only 24 additional hours after pursuing a juris doctor to obtain a masters.
& they will give you a masters in anything.
Am I crazy for wanting to spend an ADDITIONAL year after obtaining my JD to get a MBA in English?

I've just been staring at the pile of books stacking in my room;
The Picture of Dorian Gray, To Kill A Mockingbird, Paradise Lost, Pride And Prejudice And Zombies-- when will you be mine?

Maybe I was meant to read.
Maybe I was meant to toil away on this blog, bitching.
Maybe I was wrong for pretending like I never loved EVERY MINUTE of being a creative writing major.

& I sit and read these case books.
They have no soul.
The only time I've ever connected to the reading is in Constitutional Law.

Maybe I was meant to be a zero.
An anonymous.
Slaving away in a half-priced books;
Feeling contempt for all the other literary hipsters who come in;
Slamming back iced coffees and old books during break;
Writing shitty articles for the local print.

That honestly sounds good to me.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

You failed, Hombre

I resolved this weekend not to leave the house...not even to leave my room...because I need to study.
But Saturday, running low on staying home supplies--for example, food and toilet paper--I was forced to break away from my studies and go to the grocery store.
I don't know if I've ever really gone into much depth about this, but readers, I derive A LOT of pleasure from the minutest of occurrences. --> For example, I love the smell of pollen and I once spent interrupted hourS looking for things to staple because I'd just purchased a stapler that looked like a piece of sushi.

Down the street from my apartment and on my way home from the grocery store is a diner.
This diner has a gumball machine selling Domo figurines (see picture at left if you don't know what Domo is: this is my ONE Domo figurine from said gumball machine scaling the top of my brother's candle bottle). For some reason, putting 50 cents into the machine and getting a little surprise Domo makes my day. What can I say? I'm a party animal.

Anyway, so on my way out, I reached into my coin bank, took out 50 cents and put it into my purse.
This is the ONLY actual cash I was carrying on me.
My trip to the grocery store was a success--I bought the new issue of Glamour and a lot of frozen vegetables I'm likely to never get around to actually eating--and was super excited about stopping by the diner to purchase my Domo. Then I got stuck at a red light.

Readers, when it comes to the homeless/impoverished, I'm usually Very generous.
So, when at the red light, a homeless fellow on crutches began limping beside the cars with his sign, I patted down my purse and cup holders looking for any loose cash. I felt pretty bad about not having any.

And then I realized... I did have cash: 50 cents.

I pouted and had an inner debate:

Good me: "Do I really have to?"
Bad me: "Of course you don't have to. That guy could be an alcoholic...a crack whore... You don't even know if he's really homeless."
Good me: "But if he IS really homeless and NOT a crack whore or alcoholic, this 50 cents will do him a lot more good than anything I've got planned for it. I am just about to waste this money on a toy that's just going to sit on my entertainment system and collect dust."
Bad me: "But you were looking forward to this! C'mon, Godzilla Domo is getting lonely..."
Good me: " I'm 23...nearly 24... do I really need another toy?"
Moderate me: "Will both of you please shut the fuck up? I'm trying to think! What if that guy doesn't even make it over here before the light changes? Technically then I haven't done anything wrong."
Bad me: "Brilliant."
Good me: "I don't know. This just feels like bad juju, holmes. What if God is testing you to see whether you're amazingly selfish?"
Moderate me: "Did you just call me holmes? & also, I seriously doubt God is testing me over 50 cents."
Bad me: "Look the lights changing! Yes! Brand new Domo is ours!"
Moderate me: "Yay?..."
Good me: "You're both going to Hell... at least purgatory."
Moderate me: "My mom's Jewish. There is no purgatory."
Bad me: "You sure?"
Moderate me: "No... Hey, shut up, shut up. Traffic's moving."

& so the three of us living inside my brain all got to drive through the light to the diner.
I parked.
I got out and tried not to skip to the front hall of the diner.
& once inside, I proudly pulled my 50 cents from my purse.

...and then realized the Domo machine was no longer there...

Good me: "What did I tell you? Karma."
Moderate me: "This sucks."
Bad me: "Yeah... this probably was a test; it's way too ironic to be coincidence. & on that note, you failed, hombre."
Moderate me: "Hey guys? Can we take it down a notch with all the nicknames from East LA? I feel like it's creating racial tension."
Good me: "Sorry."
Bad me: "Yeah, my b."

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Ball Sacks & Such.

In a school full of people who take themselves entirely too seriously, I found my haven.
I have yet to really blog about my new family; the one I made at law school-- Fatty, Krusts, and Gaga.
They're very special to me and the four of us form the most fun, fashionable, bitchy click in our program.
It was meant to be; kismet, if you will.
I don't have a really great group photo of us & for reasons I'll outline below, I probably shouldn't post up photos of them.
That reason being; law school is JUST like high school.
& even more than that, in the actual law career, itself, image is EVERYTHING.

I've never been one for secrets & I don't like censoring myself, if this blog has been any indication.
I'm also this way in my friendships.

Many a day these last two semesters, Fatty, Krusts, Gaga, & I will sit out under the sunshine in the law school court yard.
Books will be open.
Sack lunches out.
There's laughing.
We probably look like a pretty wholesome bunch of young American adults just enjoying the spring time weather.

But if one were to get just close enough, you'd hear:
L: So the other day, I realized balls go all the way back. Like I thought they just dangled but they don't.
F: I saw that picture you posted on my wall. You're lying--that's not a naked mole rat, that's a ball sack with teeth.
L: I'm going to tweet that.
K: (to L) so I take it you must have had him spread eagle or something?
L: Well I mean, it's not like I posed him or anything. He was just relaxing that way.
G: You guys (eyes watering) omigosh you guys, today is the SADDEST day in America.
L: Did Cyndi Lauper die?
G: No worse. Enrique Iglesias just announced that he's no longer touring with Britney Spears. I'll never get to see him on tour now.
K: Well maybe now he can go on tour by himself. Maybe Jersey Shore will dance on stage like they do in that video.
G: Maybe.
F: (to L) Ugh! Why did you post that picture of this Black Albino on my wall? I hate them!
G: That is SO racist.

If you think this looks like anything other than a drawer full of dildos, you're lying to yourself. 

other days:

L: I can't believe they made us wear panty hose.
F: It's bull shit.
G: I think you guys are making too big a deal of this.
K: That's because you'll never have to wear them, Gaga.
L: The Board of Advocates has another thing coming if they think for one second that I'm going to risk getting a yeast infection just to stand up in Moot Court.
G: What are you talking about?
F: Yeast infections may be related to wearing panty hose.
K: If you're not wearing underwear.
L: No, you can get them even if you ARE wearing panties. It's because it suffocates your vagina. Ask my vagina right now, she's suffocating.

still others:
(in the library)
K: I don't understand why the word, "vaginal" exists. Why not just say vagina?
L: Vaginal is an adjective. Vagina is a noun.
F: Can you shut up?
G: Like Vaginal infections? Omigosh, I think that guy heard me.
F: The whole library heard you. SHUT UP.
L: I guess you could say, "infected vagina" but "vaginal infection" sounds much more sterile...


The thing of it is, we're all future potential lawyers.
What this means is there will come a time when we're expected not to talk this way; not to think ball sacks and Black Albinos are funny.
I, personnally, struggle with this everyday: will there EVER come a time when ball sacks are NOT funny to me? If I had to, would I even want to pretend that I don't think they're funny for my career?
& I'm just not sure.
There's this whole thing in our field called professional responsibility. & I'm not exactly sure what it's about since I haven't taken the course yet but I imagine it pretty much says that practicing attorneys shouldn't have blogs...let alone blogs where they talk about armpit hair, racial slurs, and where references to sex organs are a common occurrence.
& I guess if it came down to it, it's such a silly thing, this blog, that I should be willing to give it up for my own chance at success. At least, you know, so this whole law school/going into debt thing isn't in vain.
But I can't help but feel like at the same time, it's more than that.
It kind of feels like I'd be giving up a part of myself.

& I honestly, I can't see how thinking that ball sacks are funny makes me a bad person or is in some way indicative that I won't be an AMAZING attorney.


Friday, April 1, 2011

It's Yours, I Think

So today I woke up feeling like it was Saturday because my 9 am was cancelled.
My brother's girlfriend came into my bedroom at 10:45 to ask, "What are you doing here?"
I looked at her for a moment, stuffed my face back into my pillow and said, "I live here."
It didn't occur to me that she was trying to remind me that it was Friday and usually I'd be in class.

But anyway. All of that has nothing to do with the rest of this post except that when I was awake long enough to realize it was only Friday, I realized also that it must be the first.
April First.

It's unlikely that I'll be able to prank anyone much today since nearing 1 in the afternoon, I still have yet to shower or dress.
Yet I felt like if I didn't attempt at least one prank today, I'd be missing out.

Btw, if you google "unknown father" & then look up images, a bunch of pictures of orchids come up?
So I'll be painting you guys a picture instead:

As you can see, that entire semester of Painting my final semester at A&M really paid off. 

Naturally, my first choice of victim was Mr. Flintstone.

Me (via text message): I am pregnant. It's yours, I think.
Mr. Flintstone: ...Are you joking?
Me: Duh I'm joking! Who else's could it be?
Mr. Flintstone: ...
Me: Ha, JK! Happy April Fools Day!
Mr. Flintstone: Wow. Nicely Done. You seriously got me twice.
Me: Thank you, Thank you. I'm taking a bow right now.

Happy April Fools Day, Readers. Please go out & prank people & then post about it so I can live vicariously through your exploits.