My First Murder

I remember it like it was yesterday. I don't know what that says about my memory, but anyway....

I was in kindergarten. It was a drizzly, cloudy day.

We were outside for recess and lined up to come inside. As the line in front of me filed though the door, I stepped forward and felt a distinct "squish" underfoot.

I turned back. I expected it to be a wet mitten or something. But alas, it was a snake.

And right in the middle of it's body there was an indent where I had trampled it. Like when a snake eats a bird and it has that random bulge in the middle of it's body. But in reverse.

Being a very sensitive child, I felt unbelievably guilty and cried in front of the whole class.

My best friend was kind of grossed out that I had touched a snake, so she was no support. Another girl was like, "Psshhht, it's just a stupid snake. It's not a big deal." And some stone-hearted kid was like, "Ooooh! You're soooo awesome! You SLAYED a SNAKE!!!!!"

My teacher tried to make me feel better by assuring me that it was probably already sick or dead before I stepped on it. But I thought that even a sick snake deserved a better end than being squished.

To make matters worse, no one cleaned it up for a couple of days. It just laid there decomposing, and every recess I was faced with the dreadful consequences of my carelessness.

A Band-aid Fixes Everything

"Mommy! I need a Band-aid! Do we have any more?!" I yelled from the kitchen.

"Why?! What happened?!" my concerned mother asked as she rushed into the room.

She discovered me sitting on the floor. Wrappers littered the area around me, along with an empty 60-count box of bandages. Band-aids covered every square inch of my leg from my foot all the way up to my knee on my right leg.

"Lauren! What are you doing?!"

"I got an owie on my leg, and I think I maybe breaked it. I'm making a cast. It feels better already!"

I learned a valuable lesson that day about not being wasteful and Band-aids not being cheap.

Dream Cure

I had some more crazy vivid dreams this week. Like the one about Becky and I getting married on a boat.

It was an arranged marriage. Our parents had planned the whole thing. It was the day of the ceremony, and we were on a huge cruise ship. It had a massive dining room and a pool and a large chapel.

I was like, "Oh, we need to make a playlist for our reception!" I pulled up my iTunes and started asking Becky what songs she wanted. She totally shot down Cut Copy.

"I've never heard them on the radio, Lauren. That's just really shady."

It got me thinking, "Becky why are we getting married in the first place?" 

We tried to hunt our dads down to call off the whole deal, but they were like,"We need to go fishing!"

I was like, "I'm sorry, Becky, but I might have to leave you at the altar."  She was totally fine with that. And then we went to eat the ice shavings from the ice sculptures.

One of my friends at work told me, "Yeah, that is a very strange dream....Maybe you should start drinking."

Rules of the Bedtime Prayer

As a child, my bedtime prayer was one of the most significant creations of the day. Due to our Crazy Choir Director, I had some pretty wild ideas about prayer construction. The formula was:

Introduction: As I Lay Me Down to Sleep. I knew 2 versions, and I had to say both because I wasn't sure which one was "right."

Blessings: All recipients must be named individually. At minimum, the list of blessings must include all immediate family members.

The Big Picture: This is where to add in requests for orphans, the poor, world peace, etc.

The Specifics: Requests about spelling tests, a crush giving me a Valentine, please don't let us have a fire that burns the house down, etc.

Conclusion: "In Jesus' Name, Amen." This was like the stamp of prayers. They would not reach God if this phrase was not used.

You have no idea how many times I would say my prayer and end it with, "Amen." Then I would realize that I had forgotten to say, "In Jesus' Name." So I had to start all over from the beginning. Sometimes I would add in, "And please include anything I forgot to say in this prayer, that I said in my other prayer."

It was also very important to pray every night, because I thought that prayers expired after 24 hours unless renewed. So you'd better ask God for his love to guard you through the night EVERY night, or probably a burglar will steal all your pants.

All prayer requests had to be made from memory. Writing them down was cheating.

Be My Arms!

Here is a video of Monica and I for you to enjoy:

Drivin' Down the Road

Who Stole My Pants?!

I have long had the unfortunate habit of not always closing drawers when I'm done with them.

It was a traumatic day all those years ago when I awoke to discover that all of my pants were missing from my bottom drawer.

I quickly tore open my other drawers. Nothing missing there. But my pants were all gone. Using 7-year-old logic, there could only be one conclusion.  A burglar must have come into my room in the middle of the night. Being in a rush, they would have gone for the most convenient items: those in the open drawer.

Alarmed, I ran to my mother to alert her of the grievous crime.

Unfortunately, my interpretation was all wrong.

Apparently, my older sister had snuggled up to go to sleep when she heard my little sister get out of bed. Corinne had a habit sleep-walking when she got up to use the bathroom. Grudgingly, Monica decided to check on her.


The bathroom light was not on. But the light in my room was. She opened the door to find Corinne squatting over my pants drawer with a very drowsy and confused expression.

"Corinne! Did you just pee in Lauren's drawer?!"

"No. I just can't find the toilet paper," came the sleepy response.

Monica went to go get her some, but by the time she returned Corinne was already back in bed, sound asleep.

I slept through the commotion of my mom emptying my drawer and loading all on my pants into the washing machine.

You would think that having your wardrobe urinated on would eliminate the open-drawer quirk. But I still do it all the time and then walk through my kitchen like, "What the eff are these doing like this?!"

Now I Get It!

Yesterday I went to an ugly Christmas sweater birthday party. See how fabulous it was?

I think I may have figured out why so many middle-aged women love these things for real. They give you power.

When we got to the bar, I started dancing. And I kept dancing. A lot. I never dance in public. Not even when I'm tipsy.

It was all in the sweater. I already looked like such a fool that it didn't matter how silly I looked busting out with my crazy moves.

The Holiday Spirit

I set up my Christmas tree yesterday, and it is kind of glorious. I have yet to figure out how to keep the giant sparkly turquoise star from leaning, but I do enjoy a little imperfection.

Most people like to listen to Christmas music while they set up their trees. Or maybe have a heartwarming movie going. A Charlie Brown Christmas. How The Grinch Stole Christmas, perhaps.

But as for me, I was watching a documentary about the body trade.

I Rode The Short Bus

No joke. I went to "special" preschool.

I remember sitting on the short bus and thinking it was just about the coolest thing in the world. The bus was just my size! I just loved all things miniature.

In order to qualify for entry into Bright Futures Preschool, kids had to fail 3 items on the Denver Developmental Test. At the age of four(ish), I was unable to jump on one foot three times in a row, I couldn't cross a "t" correctly, and I failed some other gross motor skill test. Basically, I've just always been uncoordinated.

After my first college swim meet (where I kind of kicked ass), my dad told me, "Lauren, when we had to put you in special preschool,  I never thought you'd make it this far. I mean, to have the coordination you do in the water!"

I'm still not all that great on land. I cannot walk in a straight line, and I trip over myself countless times every day.

Peter Pan's Tights

Once upon a time, I was a little girl. My dad had taken us to Detweiller Park to play. There are lots of woods and trails in the area, so we decided to go on an adventure. We climbed down into one of the ravines.

We made several awesome discoveries. A racoon jaw. "Pig nose" nuts.

But our most fascinating discovery was Peter Pan's tights.

I found them laying amongst the leaves inside of a large tree hollow. They were green. Who else could they possibly belong to?

We got to take the jaw and the nuts home, but my dad told us to leave the tights where they were, "Just in case he comes back looking for them."

Pet Fly

I had a dream last night that I had a pet fly.

I had to be very careful that he didn't accidentally fly out of the car when I was packing up for vacation.

Tuesday

I usually leave my apartment by 6:38.

Yesterday I woke up at 6:32.

Being a champion, I made it out the door in about 7 minutes. Didn't even have time to pee. I left the house looking a mess, with my hair still in the braid I slept in. I prioritized brushing my teeth.

I put deodorant on while I was at the stoplight, which is difficult with a seat belt on. And I didn't even get any deodorant stains on my shirt.

I clocked in at 6:54. Dang, I'm good.

Disney Adventure

I got lost in Disney World on a family vacation when I was about 7.

We were walking to some attraction when we happened upon a crowd listening to Merlin give a speech. We had a brief family meeting:

"Do you want to stay and listen to Merlin, or go get on that ride?"

Being a space cadet, I was not really paying attention to the conversation. The first line was all I heard. I was far too busy imagining what it would be like to be a mouse driving a car around an amusement park. I assumed that the unanimous decision was to keep on going to the ride when I looked up and saw my dad starting to walk away.

At least, I thought it was my dad. And he was traveling in the direction of whatever ride we had been headed to. I skipped ahead of him, wanting to show off the fact that I knew where we were going.

It was by Mr. Toad's Wild Ride that I glanced over my shoulder and realized that my family was nowhere in sight. Our Family Lost Child Plan of Action was to stay firmly planted to the spot where you realized you were lost.

It didn't take Mr. Toad's staff very long to recognize the panic on my face. They came over, asked if I was lost, and invited me to come sit with them while they paged my parents' names over the intercom. I was hesitant to break the glued-to-the-spot-where-you're-lost rule, but decided that the loud booming voice would be more effective than my short self standing in a crowd where 73% of the people were taller than me.

They were about to start the page when I saw my family. I bolted. Maybe Mr. Toad's staff thought I had lost my mind and was just running after some cotton candy, cause they were all like, "No, Little Girl! Stop! Come back!"

And then they saw me hugging my parents, and the world was full of unicorns prancing on rainbows.

Disappointment

Last night I had a dream that I made chocolate chip cookie brownie bars.

I know. Amazing, right?

Except for that when I was groggily struggling to wake up this morning, I promised myself I could eat one for breakfast. And then they weren't real.

Bummer.

Promoting Pacifism

"Hey, man. I was just about to shoot you for beating up my brother, but then that limo drove by. And it got me thinking. How about we go get some coffee instead?"

A Safer Drug Experience?

Random Fact of the Day:

If you eat several tablespoons of nutmeg, you can have a hallucinogenic experience.

But, really, who can swallow that much nutmeg in the first place?

Mixing It Up: That's Just How I Do

Yesterday I renewed my CPR certification. As I was walking from my car to the building for the class, I realized that my feet felt kind of different from each other.

In my rush to make it out the door in time, this is what I left the house wearing:

 

Whoops.

Bit-O-Crappy

Everyone deals with the Halloween Candy Situation a little differently. A few people have incredible will power and are able to "just say no." Some people pick their favorite candy to hand out to the kids so that they can enjoy a few pieces between doorbell rings. Others get something they hate so that they won't be tempted by it.

This must be the reason that anyone hands out Bit-O-Honey. Nobody likes that crap. It's all hard and gross. Probably because they stopped making years ago, and every piece that's on the market today is leftover from the 70's.

And when the children dig through all their candy at the end of the night, sorting and trading with siblings and friends, they pretty much instantly chuck out the Bit-O-Honey to avert contamination of the candy that actually tastes better than tar. The unfortunate child who is duped into handing over a single Reese's in exchange for all of their older brother's Bit-O-Honey quickly learns not to ever put that in their mouth again. Approximately 96% of the Bit-O-Honey sold each year ends up in the trash.

Then, the Waste Management employee who collects and submits the greatest number of pounds of Bit-O-Honey is given a special Holiday Bonus.

The following Halloween, all of the repossessed Bit-O-Honey is recirculated in convenience and grocery stores across the country. A pretty genius scam!

Etymology

I have often pondered the origin of the word "grim."

Yes, I am a nerd.

Really, what I want to know is if it became a word before or after the Brothers Grimm published those ominous tales about cannibalistic witches eating small children and hunters who surgically remove grandmothers from wolf stomachs. 

Is it just a fun coincidence that their name was so appropriate? Or did people read the stories and then start saying, "Ooooh, that's so Grimm!"

Wikipedia tells me that the Brothers Grimm also did some work on the German dictionary, so maybe they sneaked in a little propaganda there...

Welcome Back!

I basically hardly slept for 2 days. Restless legs = DOOM. So last night, when I got an amazing 10 hours, my dreams threw a "Welcome Back" party for me.

First off, my little sister tried to drive an ice cream truck into the hotel where we were staying. Then, she knuckle-walked over to me like a blond gorilla and tried to bite half my face off. She was making these "nyom-nyom-nyom" noises into my eyeball while my older sister watched on in horror and scolded, "No! Bad Corinne!"

For the rest of my dream she kept switching back and forth from nice, normal Corinne to psychotic cannibal. I was very suspicious of her intentions when she tried to hug me.

Then we had to go jet skiing through frigid water to go to a dirty island where we had to climb tall trees and pick tomatoes from them. The crazy Childrens Choir director was there instructing us on what to do with them. We had to get every last one. IN JESUS NAME!!!

Finally, we kicked a grumpy old man out of our house because he was being a jerk during dinner. He turned into a tiger and tried to hide in the garage. Tazmanian-Devil-Corinne started to eat the car tires, which alarmed the crabby tiger enough to wander away into the woods.

Thank you for the lovely party, sleep. But it looks like maybe you didn't miss me as much as I missed you.

She'll Scare the Hell Out of You

When we were growing up, our church had a Children's Choir director.  I guess you could say she was a little fanatical about religion and Jesus. She terrorized many little children with her screeching voice and horn-rimmed glasses that gave her stern face an especially sinister frown. Here's a collection of some of the crazy stuff she told us:


She told Joe that the devil in him when he had a cold.

When Matt got a new puppy, one of its ears was floppy. Most people would think this is adorable, but according to her, "It's a sign that your dog is possessed by the devil. You should return it immediately and get a dog that is wholesome in the eyes of God."

Corinne says, "She turned 'This Little Light of Mine' into a horror show by putting a devilish emphasis on 'DON'T LET SATAN POOF IT OUT!' I'm pretty sure I remember her eyes bugging out of her head and steam rolling out of her ears."

From Lauren S: "She told us that the day you die is a Big Black X on the calendar of your life. And then that guy had a heart attack in the middle of service and Becky was like,  "HIS X CAME UP!!!"

She said, "Nothing bad has ever happened to my family because we are so close to God." Then her husband died...

She told us, "You MUST end your prayers with, 'IN JESUS NAME, AMEN.' If you don't pray in Jesus' name, God will not listen to your prayers."

From Nick: "I remember her telling us that people would hide under your car at the Venture parking lot and cut your Achilles tendon so you can't run away and then steal your car. Good advice for young children."

From Becky: "I remember when John and Nick wanted to quit choir. They made their mom tell her. I remember seeing Nick hiding in that little elevator shaft because he was scared of her. I'd be scared, too. Those eyes will put a curse on you for sure!"

She owned a shop that sold swimming gear, so I had the distinct pleasure of seeing her after she left Arcadia. I got a t-shirt one time that said "Property of Swim Team" and she told me, "Now, it's a good quality shirt, but just remember you are really property of God."

From Monica: When I saw her at Rob's wedding, the first thing she asked was not "Oh, how have you been, what are you doing, how's the family?"
No, it was "Have you found Jesus?"
I mean, Jesus is always the last place you look, but I never lost him. I just told her "Yes, ma'am."
"How about your family?"
"Yes."
"Oh, good! I really tried to teach you kids about Jesus!"
She had previously told one of our parents that she tried to teach the kids about Jesus since Arcadia was not a "Bible-preaching church."

Knives. They Kill You.

I have kind of always been afraid of knives. I just get the creepy feeling that they are going to hurt me. Like they have special powers.

So if you accidentally drop one, it will gain so much momentum as it falls through the air that it will almost certainly stab you through the foot.

And if you reach into a sink full of dishes, the knife will be veiled there by a cloak of invisibility only to appear in your palm as you grab to pick something up. Then you lose your pinky.

You don't even want to know about the dangers that are lurking when you're cutting up your steak and potatoes.


It all started with "one of those things sisters do."


I was happily singing a silly song of some sort, when Monica demanded, "Lauren, stop singing."

I looked at her bitterly. I stopped singing.  And I started humming.

"STOP humming!"

So I started whistling.

"STOP MAKING NOISES FROM YOUR MOUTH!!!"

So I tapped my fingers on the table.

At this point, Monica had had enough, so she grabbed a carving knife, stomped over, and held the knife up to my neck threatening, "If you don't shut up right now, I will slit your throat."

I did not make a peep.

Instead, I found other ways of pissing her off, like wearing my glasses halfway down my nose and refusing to push them up. I'm still kind of fuzzy on how this was going to boost me ahead....

Short Clips from Creepy Dreams

Here are some of the menacing thoughts that float around in my brain while I'm sleeping:

Man's body. Head of a deer.

I used to have recurring dreams in grade school where The Bad Lauren would capture my imaginary friend, Wando. She tied him to a big silver platter, squirted him with lots of mustard, and put him in an oven.

I was a hallucination, and everybody was telling me I wasn't real.

Lucille Ball was burying pieces of a body that she had chopped up after murdering someone. She said, "I'm not proud of it, but there were some things I just had to do to get ahead in show business."

All I know is, there was a baby line dancing to Achy-Breaky Heart while holding someones internal organs.

Five Gross Words

Please do not use these words in my presence:

Moist. Why would you ever use this word to describe cake?

Fondle. This word pretty much = pedophile.

Spongy. It's like dirty sea foam getting mushed between your toes.

Panties.  Just say "underwear."

Succubus. Suck-u-what?

Anatomy

Conversation in the Nurse's Station between a social worker and the unit secretary:

"I have to be careful. I don't want her to punch me in the throat and break my tibia."

"No, that's in your leg."

"Well, what's the bone called that's by your throat? It sounds like tibia. Libia? Oh-labia?"

"It's definitely not your labia."

A Tribute

The last time I saw my Grandpa Buddy, my mom and I took him out to the garden in his wheelchair. As we strolled around, he could identify just about every plant we came across-he was kind of a botanist bad-ass. We talked about my vegetable garden, and he gave me advice about what flowers to plant in the shade. It is a beautiful final memory to have.

I love you, Grandpa, and I'll miss you.

Creepy Commercials

The Broadview Security commercials are super creeptastic.

These men who try to break in are not robbers. 

They are all murderers or rapists. 

They always peer into the window and see that the victim is home before they try to shatter it.

Examples:

1st Date

Trecherous Treadmil

Backyard Badguy

AJ the Attacker

Maybe He Just Wanted Popcorn?

Happy October!

It's the month of my favorite holiday! I may or may not get more excited about Halloween than your average 7-year-old. Therefore, my posts this month will be dedicated to all things gross, creepy, and scary. Consider yourselves warned.

So, I went to bed at about 7:00 pm last night. I actually just meant to take a quick nap, but I'm fighting off a cold. I think the 13 hours of sleep I've gotten in the last 24 hours has done me well, as I am not hacking up any lungs.

I woke up at some point during the night utterly convinced that there was a Tyrannosaurus Rex in my bedroom. I felt my breathing quicken, and told myself, "I just need to stay completely still so it doesn't find me and eat me."

Once I had woken up enough to remember that dinosaurs are extinct, I was possessed by a new terror. There was someone else in my apartment. I heard their footsteps, and a grocery bag rustling around.

I reached for my phone. I cursed that no one had invented 9-1-1 texting so I could notify the police without letting the intruder know I was aware of their presence. Who knows, they might bludgeon me?

Then it occurred to me that it was more likely to be Sally than a murderer. But I still didn't feel totally relaxed about getting up to go to the bathroom.

How to Get Skinny

"Did you see Krista?! She's lost a ton of weight since she was last admitted!"

"Well, you know, the cocaine diet is very effective."

"Yeah, but then you do stuff, like....die...."

That's What I Call Relaxation

After a hard evening at work, Colleen and I decided it was time for some well-earned relaxation.

Sometimes, we've gone to one of the bars for a drink. Other times, we've gone to the hot tub at a gym of undisclosed location. What could be a better way to unwind?

Combining the two, of course!

Colleen brought a bottle of wine. We smuggled it into the gym in water bottles. Delicious and soothing! It was the perfect way to end the day.

There was a guy in the endless pool that had other ideas about how to de-stress. I'm a hundred percent fifty-fifty that he was jacking off by the jet stream. I pointed it out to Colleen. Of course, he picked the moment that she was turning her head to glance over at us. He immediately stopped whatever he was doing, which only served to increase my suspicions...

Garbage Juice

When I was working as a lifeguard, we took out the trash at the end of the day by loading it all onto a golf cart to drive out to the dumpster. There was a guy that did some sort of other work at the country club-groundskeeping or something? Apparently he had a crush on me, so he tried to get some "alone time" by helping me one day. 

 

He showed off all sorts of daring tricks to impress me. Like gunning it down the bumpy hill and attempting a 180 that almost crashed us into the side of the dumpster. Which would have been fun, except that I had to hold on to all those garbage bags. They had been roasting in the sun all day, so they were pretty stinky.

As we were unloading the trash, some garbage juice spilled onto the seat of the golf cart. Being oh-so-gentlemanly, the guy took off his shirt and wiped it off so I could sit on a clean seat. 

 

But then he put his smelly garbage-soaked shirt back on. 

 

He was chivalrous. But he didn't smell so good.

Random Fact of the Day

Armadillos are the only animal besides humans to contract leprosy.

Scuba Peeing

A few years ago Monica, my parents, and I took a trip to Key Largo to go scuba diving. Monica and I had just gotten certified, and it was our first oceanic underwater adventure.

I think that something about scuba-ing makes your kidneys filter faster. Because normally, after one hour of normal activity with normal hydration, I feel fine. But when diving, one hour would fill my bladder to "I definitely need to pee." Which is beyond "If I'm not concentrating on it, I don't have to" and "I kinda gotta go."

On our first day out, we went on 2 dives that were about 45 minutes each. I saw some pretty amazing fish and invertebrates. If I could be any mythical creature, I would probably pick mermaid so I could hang out down there all the time. And I would have a beautiful voice, so I would be able to sing in the shower. Except I wouldn't need a shower. Because I would be in the water.

Well, needless to say, I had to pee. And for the life of me, I could not. There was no bathroom on the boat, so that wasn't an option. My dad thought I had stage fright about peeing through the wetsuit. I didn't actually care; I just really, really wanted an empty bladder.

From the time I had last peed before breakfast to the time we got out of the water from our second dive, about 7 hours had elapsed. And then there was the hour long boat ride back to the dock. I had drunk several bottles of water. The ocean was wavy. The boat was rocking. It was extremely painful. I thought I was going to die.

Finally, we were pulling into the harbor!

And then we had to back out so another boat could get out. And then we pulled in. Monica also had to pee pretty bad.

"You girls just get to the hotel, we'll take care of the gear," my dad said.

Monica and I tried to run, stripping off our wetsuits as we went. It was basically an accelerated waddle.

Our hotel was about 2-3 blocks away. But there was a Holiday Inn right by the dock. We saw the pool area, and I spotted a sign for the restrooms. I was about 2 yards from the door when I realized that you had to have a hotel key to get into the bathroom.

"No! Turn back!" I tried to yell, but I could hardly speak. At first, Monica didn't understand.  Her face contorted in dismayed confusion. And then she spotted the problem. "Should we hop in the pool?" I whispered desperately. I thought I might burst.

"No, we can make it." We hobbled off.

About a block from the hotel, a sudden spasm overtook my body. I fell to the ground. "Aaaaaaaagggheh!" I moaned. Monica glanced back at me.  She started to slow down. But then a pained expression came over her face and she grunted, "I have to keep going. I'm sorry."

I was curled up on the ground, devastated by the realization that I was going to pee all over myself in the middle of a parking lot in the middle of the day.

Miraculously, the spasm passed and I somehow managed to get back on my feet. I staggered on, bent forward at about a 90 degree angle.

I made it into the lobby and stumbled toward the public restroom. There was one woman in line. One of the stalls was opening. I could see Monica's feet in the other. The woman in line took one look at my face and said, "GO!"

I swear to God, I peed for at least a minute and thirty-eight seconds. I was trying to count.  I don't even think I want to know the volume of fluid that was in my bladder.  I have never had to pee so badly in my entire life, and I hope I never do again.

Now What Do I Do?

Today I went to the Logan Square Farmers Market, which always makes me feel quite content. There's just nothing like an apple straight from the tree, or a carrot right from the dirt. After you rinse it off.

I'd picked up my usual supply of fruits and veggies when I found myself pondering the sign for the farm-raised meat stand. I've casually been thinking about adding more birds to my diet. The guy at the booth greeted me, "Hey, you look like a smurf. You have a lot of blue on."

He suggested that it would be an easy Halloween costume. We had a brief conversation about fall and weather and the awesomeness of October 31st, which emboldened me to go ahead and ask for a chicken.


On my way home, I contemplated, "What the hell am I going to do with this thing?"


As far as cooking goes, I've got vegetables down. Not to brag, but I can make some pretty delicious meals. And I'm pretty sure I could even bake a decent batch of muffins without a recipe. However, I'm mildly intimidated by the fact that I haven't cooked meat (minus fish) for, mmmmmmm, 8-ish years?

Except for that one time when I made frozen meals for my grandma for Christmas. Instead of being nice and crumbly, the ground beef for the meat sauce turned out to be more along the lines of "spaghetti and meat-frisbees."


Anyhow, I've certainly never cooked a whole chicken before.


As I turned down my street, two of my neighbors were standing outside chatting while their black hen pecked away at the sidewalk. It reminded me of riding the combi's to school in Mexico, and I thought about the delicious mustard chicken dish my host mama used to make. So now that's the plan, Stan!

Here's Some Advice

Suggestions that Present Me could have made to Past Me during the last 2 weeks

Fitness Advice
When you are going to walk 2 miles to the gym to swim, make sure your swim suit is in your bag before you leave the house.

Sleeping Advice
Do not take a sleeping pill before unloading your sheets from the dryer. This may cause bed-making to be much more difficult than it should be.

Beauty Advice
Your bangs do not pull into a bun. If you try to do this instead of letting them just be bangs, you will end up with a front-only faux hawk.

Financial Advice
NEVER go to Target "just to look around" or "to kill some time." You will buy something.

Other Shopping Advice
When you're hauling 40 lbs of cat litter out to the car, make sure to do one or both of the following:
     1. Use a cart
     2. Remember where you parked

It's Nice to Meet Your Neighbors

I met a neighbor-ish today. He may or may not actually live around me. He was just walking on a sidewalk that's close to where I live, so I will call him my neighbor.

He was limping because he has some physical/mental developmental disorder. He was wearing a fedora and carrying a briefcase.

As we passed each other, he greeted me with a friendly "Hello!" which I returned with a smile.

"My name is Nick! What's your name?"

"I'm Lauren. It's nice to meet you, Nick!"

"Yeah, it is good. The weather's not bad. How is your husband doing?"

"Oh, he's good, doing fine," I laughed.

"That's great. I'm glad to hear it. Okay, well, I wish the best of luck to you both."

"Well, thank you, Nick. Have a good day!"

"You too! A swell day!"

Luscious

I found a description in my middle school diary about a boy that I had a crush on. It said,

"He is sooooo cute and handsome! He has the nicest eyes and big, sucking blowfish lips."

Apparently this was a good thing?

Take Me Home Tonight!

A blind man tried to come home with me today.

I was watching traffic, waiting to pull out of the parking lot, when I heard some rap-a-tapping at my passenger door.  It was the blind man with his white cane.

He seemed to be trying to walk through my car, so at first I thought he was just confused. That was what his expression told me. But maybe that's just what his face looks like, because his expression did not change once.

And he didn't try to move away from my car. At first he kept touching it. He whacked the passenger-side mirror, then spun around 360 degrees and started feeling along the door.

He tried the handle. I wondered if maybe he was trying to hijack my car. But something tells me he wouldn't have gotten very far driving...

And if he tried to make me take him somewhere, how would he know I wasn't driving to the police station instead of his creepy dark basement apartment with no windows?

Then he gave up. He just stood there. Like, less than a foot away from my car. Open-mouthed and fidgeting. Maybe devastated that the weird little rendezvous he had been fantasizing about for a week would never come to fruition. He wasn't trying to ask for money. He had no can, no sign, no outstretched hand. Nothing.

I pulled away slowly, afraid that me might try to walk through my car again and make me run over his foot.

I have considered that he might be a zombie. He sure looked the part with his rolled-back, glazed-white eyes and gaping mouth frozen in a permanent groan. Plus that whole bizarre behavior and brain fog thing...

Just to be on the safe side, grab up some baseball bats and don't let anyone bite you. Especially if they smell like decay.

Mmmmmmm

I just ate sushi again.

Sushi Surplus

Becky (my housemate) and I had a marvelous munch-fest yesterday evening involving raw fish at Ichiban (by UIC). All-you-can-eat can be very dangerous, and we were determined to get our money's worth.

Between the two of us, we polished off 9 maki. Our unanimous favorite was The Golden Dragon (shrimp tempura topped with eel and avocado).

Near the end of our gastronomical journey I declared, "I'm going to need a pair of sweat pants."

"Ugh, I'm just going to lie around naked and sweat it out... That's what people who eat Cheetos do! They sit around naked, eating Cheetos, sweating and smelling their belly buttons!"

Laughter was getting to be painful.

After paying and leaving, we decided we would need to walk around a bit before attempting to drive back to the apartment.

"Oooooh! We're going too fast! Slow down!" cried Becky.

"Me? I feel like I'm sprinting to keep up with you.....I think I need to take a break between each step."

Crossing the street, which had to be done at a normal-to-brick pace, was even more miserable than laughing.

"Huuuugghhh, I can hardly breathe. I wonder if this is what women feel like when they're 7 months pregnant and the baby is all up in their diaphragm," I groaned.

When we got back home, we had no option but to just crash and sleep it off.

It was past noon today before I finally started to feel even slightly hungry again.

At the time, I thought it might be a while before I was willing to eat sushi again, but it turns out that as I was thinking about the Golden Dragon tonight, my mouth started watering. I'll probably be ready for more by Tuesday.

But not 5 pounds of it.

Cat-Napping

This is the cat I want to kidnap.

I call her Stella. I'm not actually sure if she's a stray or if she belongs to the neighbors. But she likes to hang out with me whenever I'm in the yard.

Things to consider:

1. She could get hit by a car.
2. She has no collar, so she does not definitely belong to someone else, though she might.
3. If it is the neighbors' cat, they will worry about her when she disappears.
4. The neighbors' cat recently had kittens, and this cat seems so tiny to have just given birth.
5. I don't really have any experience with pregnant/postpartum cats, since I made Sally give up her uterus.
6. Also, the neighbors could have more than one cat.
7. Stella is super friendly and entertaining.
8. Sally will hate her.
9. But she's lived with another cat before, and she got used to him. Maybe even secretly liked him.
10. Stella's claw control is questionable.
11. I already have claw clippers.
12. If she doesn't have a home in the winter, she might freeze.
13. If I kidnap her, I will be one feline away from being a cat lady.
14. I'm only in my 20's, and it's not the middle ages, so I'm not a spinster.
15. I recognize that I should not have more than 2 cats.
16. I have human friends.
17. Given 14-16,  really, how close am I to being a cat lady?
18. What if I'm just in denial?

Food on Fifteen

I could talk about food for approximately 67% of my day. (The rest is spent sleeping).

Fortunately, I work with people who can do the same. We like to send emails to our Head Chef, "Justin Thyme," and give him meal suggestions. I think the baked potato bar was a big hit.

Fabulous things happen when we get our heads together. And we got started on lunch at 9am on Friday with Christine boldly stating, "Right now, I really just want a burrito pizza, an over-easy egg, and greasy french fries with sour cream."

So we ordered Chinese. We had to use a cart to bring it all up to the unit, there was so much food. As we boarded the elevator with our loot, Christine said, "Protect me, Lauren. People will mug you for this shit. We might have an uprising in this elevator." It wouldn't have surprised me. I've seen crazier things happen.

In fact, I wouldn't put it past myself to mug someone for food. When I get hungry, I transform into a purple-eyed monster with gnashing teeth.

We stuffed ourselves with fried rice and egg rolls. (Except for Social Worker Liz, who declared, "I don't like egg rolls. They confuse me.") We were all about in food comas. And the fabulous thing about Chinese is that we would all be able to repeat this cycle at least 2 more times before running out of food!

"I want to punch someone," announced Christine, "I am sooooooo full."

Five minutes later, "My boobs are full! I just popped a button!"

To top it all off, one of the patients was spritzing coconut body spray on all of her peers, which made the unit smell like a coconut vagina.

If Only I Could Relive Those Good Ol' Times

Last night I had a dream that I was going back to high school.

The day that classes started, I was dressed to impress. I was wearing a black vest with fringe around the arm holes, gauchos, and sparkly gray striped knee-high socks with brown old-lady shoes.

I was freaking out because I haven't been in high school for a while, and I couldn't remember if I was supposed to have my schedule beforehand, or if I should just show up and get my schedule on the first day. Luckily that problem was solved by opening a very official-looking piece of mail that ended up having all the information I needed.

So, I was off to Dunlap High again.

But first I had to stop by Monica's Futuristic Trailer Home to get my vision tested. I stepped into the Vision-Testing Pod and looked through a pair of binoculars. Several images scrolled by that a computer asked me to identify. Bowling Ball! Corn! Pair of Scuba Sheep?

When I finally made it to school, there was a rumor buzzing around that the D.A.R.E. Officers were on the premises. Someone said, "Lauren, they're going to freak out about your license plate, and they'll probably search your car or kick you out!" (My license plate says Yayo).

Even though a search would result in nothing, since I'm not a crack dealer, I was very upset. I guess I just didn't want that much negative attention drawn to me on my first day of my second time in high school.

As if my outfit wouldn't have done that already.

Swing Dancing

I was in 8th grade, and it was Valentine's Day. We were having a dance after school; at this point I was only beginning to decide that dancing in public is on my Top 10 List of Awkward Things I Hate Doing.

But before this dance, we were going to have swing dancing lessons! I was very excited to learn some mad moves that I could bust out instead of just fumbling around making up my own thing.

And the day just kept getting better. The guy that I'd had a massive crush on for a year asked me to be his dance partner! We planned to find each other at the dance during one of the swing songs. I was elated.

The first part of the lesson went pretty well. We got to hold hands a lot, and he flipped me over his back. Then we came to this move

Unfortunately, my Doc Martens didn't slide on the gym floor.

I jumped straight into his crotch.

I was more than mortified. My face probably turned the same shade as my maroon cardigan.

He did not come to find me at the dance.....

My First Kiss

I met him at the pool at my grandparent's condo in Florida.

He did some chit-chatting with Grandma, seemed like a sweet guy. He followed me to the bathroom to ask me if I wanted to go on a date at the pool that night.

Like I said, he seemed nice, but my stranger-danger alerts were pretty high. So I towed my little sister along. She could play in the pool while Doug and I sat in the gazebo close by.  We had worked out a secret signal involving sign language so that if I felt weirded out by him, she would fake a stomach ache, and I would have to leave to take care of her.

He tried to convince me to ditch her and take a stroll down the beach, but I emphasized that my grandparents could look off their balcony to see if I was supervising Corinne.

"So they're watching us?" he asked.

"Well, it's not like they're staked out up there with binoculars, but they might peek down."

We talked for about 5 minutes, and he told me about all the slutty girls at his high school, and how much he didn't like those whores.

Then he leaned over and Frenched me. It occurred to me that I might choke. I kept pulling my head back, but he just moved on forward, continuing to try to force me to swallow his tongue.

Finally, the kiss (aka slimy suffocation) ended. "I like your moves," he told me. "So, what were you hoping for when you came down here tonight?"

"Uhh, I dunno, I just though we'd hang out and talk and stuff."

"Well, let me tell you what I was expecting," he countered, "I was hoping by the end of the night to have your hand in my pants."

Upon seeing my wide-eyed horror, he amended, ".......Or maybe mine in yours!"

"Uhhhhhh...." was all I could sputter out. I was making the secret signal like crazy.

 He kept trying to convince me with his next pick-up line, "Spring break is the time to try things because you don't have to worry about the consequences."

I had never been so happy in my life to hear Corinne's voice whine, "Lauuuureeeen?"

I practically ran over to her, yanked her from the pool, and skedaddled to the elevators.

"Back already?" Grandma inquired.

"Yup, Grams. He's Doug the Dud."

She later confided to me that she had in fact checked up on me several times with a pair of binoculars.

Awesome Apparel

When I was about 7 years old, my grandparents came to our house to take care of us for a week while our parents went scuba diving.

Grandpa Buddy liked to take daily walks, and he asked me to join him one evening after dinner.

All I was wearing was a t-shirt. But I was NOT going to put my pants back on. They were UNCOMFORTABLE.

Of course I wasn't going to walk around the neighborhood in just my underwear. But I really wanted to take a walk with Grampy.

So I put a pair of pale pink tights on.

Tights are kind of sheer, and my underwear were still visible. So I pulled out another pair of pink tights and pulled them on as well. And another pair. And another. And when I ran out of pink tights, I moved on to the white pairs and purple pair.

Until I had adorned probably every pair of tights I owned, and I couldn't see through to my underwear anymore.

Clearly, this was way more comfortable than pants.

Reunion 2011: Life Lessons

Don't punch someone if you know they can punch you harder.

Unless you know you can run faster.

Why I Always Wore Boring Underwear

When I was in third grade, there were two kids in my class who liked to try and see what kind of underwear the other children were wearing. They would pull out the back of the pants of whatever kid was sitting or standing in front of them.

Unfortunately, I sat in their row in gym class and had to deal with their crap all the time. In the past I had flashed dirty looks at the girl who had sneaked a peek while we were standing in line.

And then came the day that I will never forget. We were sitting in gym class. I was wearing a pair of red sweatpants. It was a Monday. Time to rotate spots in line-and I was the row leader! Yea!

I proudly bounced up from my newly procured spot, trying to decide which stretch I would pick for the class to do. Windmills?! Or maybe jumping jacks!

Before I could even realize what was happening, my red sweatpants were around my ankles and the whole class was laughing at me. I heard the most popular girl in the third grade giggle, "She has teddy bears on her underwear!"

When I got home, I threw away those godforsaken teddy bear underwear. And the pairs with little yellow ducks, pink butterflies, purple flowers, even polka dots. "Never again," I vowed. "I will wear plain white underwear for the rest of my life."

And I did for the next 5 years.

Today I consider myself fully recovered. These days, I've taken a turn the other way around. If I had sufficient income I would wear a new pair of colorful underoos every day.

Construction Clowns

You know those orange construction cones? Not the little orange ones.

The big orange and white ones they use on the interstate. They're really more barrels than cones.

Clowns live in those. Sometimes you can catch them popping their heads out as you drive by.

But you have to be vigilant. They move pretty quickly.

If you get creeped out by clowns....well, let's just hope the traffic's not too bad this summer...

Pigeons, You Got Nothin' *

I am more paranoid now of birds than ever before.

I was taking a walk through the park today, minding my own business, admiring the ponds and flowers, and contemplating what I was going to get at the grocery store.

Then I heard a loud buzzing behind my head. I ducked and cringed, thinking, "Please don't sting me, Giant Bee!"

Suddenly, I felt the quick beating of wings against my head and the tangle of claws in my hair!

I tossed my head as I ran and swung my arms wildly! My attacker relented. Stunned, I looked back to catch a glimpse of the assailant.

It was one of these, a red-winged blackbird:

http://www.learner.org/jnorth/tm/spring/BlackBirdGuide.html

Just look at his beady little eyes. This is the face of a true villain. He's past the poop. He means business.


*Dear Pigeons, 
Please don't take this as a challenge to create more sinister plots against me. You have a special place in my heart.
Sincerely,
Lauren

String Cheese

I don't understand people who eat string cheese by just biting off a hunk. Eww.

String cheese is meant to be peeled. It makes it taste better. For real. It increases the surface area of cheese that is exposed to your tongue, so the flavor just bursts to life!

Or at least it makes the texture better and not so processed-shiny.

Reunion 2011: Rest Stop

My awkward sitting posture on public toilets has caused me problems yet again. But this time it wasn't the automatic flushing (see Potty Predicament).

I've become pretty proficient at doing the one-handed toilet paper tear (since I have to sit on the other hand).

But not when the front of the toilet paper roll dispenser is missing.

I ended up flinging the foot-wide roll off of its inch-long peg, and it went tumbling across the floor.

I did a couple of quick (one-handed) yanks, which only served to unravel the roll even more. There was toilet paper pretty much all over the restroom.

Finally, I managed to tear the paper. That stuff was sturdy!

You will be relieved to know that I held back my laughter until exiting the restroom. Because, seriously, chuckles from inside a bathroom stall are a little creepy.

Reunion 2011: Lunch

I've had a brief hiatus from Watermelon Nosebleed, but a Morgan Family Reunion has inspired some humor and fabulousness. It's always a great event- I never realize how much I miss these guys until I'm finally spending some time with them.

So, let me begin at the beginning. I left Chicago and picked up my Grandma in Dekalb. Grandpa Buddy was fast asleep, so we decided to just eat lunch and get on our way. "There's a McDonald's and a Wendy's close by," Grandma offered.

However, when we got back to her apartment she pulled out an already-opened can of four cheese marinara sauce.
"Does this look like something you'd eat?"
"Sure, that looks good."
"I don't want it to go to waste, and I'd just as soon use it today."

So she started heating up the sauce.

"Now, I don't have anything to put it on, like pasta. So I guess we'll just eat it like soup. "

I searched her cabinets, and there really wasn't anything that one might normally put tomato sauce on.

Grandma did point out the oyster crackers, some bread, and chunky peanut butter.

When the sauce was good and hot, we scooped it into 2 bowls. I added some oyster crackers to mine. I love pasta sauce, but it's not exactly delicious as a solo deal. It sure as hell isn't anywhere close to being tomato soup.

I managed to force down 4-5 bites between gulps of flat 7up and treasured bites of blackberries and peanut butter on bread. I don't know how, but Grandma finished her whole bowl of pasta sauce.

Lotion Emergency

Have you ever had dry hands and felt extremely uncomfortable until they were properly moisturized?

If so, you may have experienced a non-life-threatening but nonetheless serious condition known as Lotion Emergency.

Lotion Emergency symptoms vary from person to person but often include the following:
  Dry, dessicated sensation of the feet or hands
  Tingling or prickling sensation of the palms or soles of the feet
  Feelings of anxiety, unease, or sense of dread
  Acute decrease in ability to focus
  Irritability

Causes of Lotion Emergency include:
  Dry, winter weather
  Hand-washing
  Reading the newspaper
  Writing with chalk
  The sound of another person filing their nails

Left untreated, a person experiencing Lotion Emergency may experience rage, severe anxiety, or a psychotic break.

There are no lab tests or doctor appointments needed to diagnose Lotion Emergency.

The most effective initial treatment is application of lotion, which may be found at most drug stores, department stores, and specialty retailers. Less effective treatments that may decrease symptoms until lotion can be found include chapstick, rubbing the palms together briskly while breathing warm air on them, and licking the hands.

Prevention includes application of lotion before, during, or immediately after a causatory event. It is recommended that those susceptible to Lotion Emergency carry a moisturizer with them at all times.

Nature's Surprises

Yesterday, I helped plant some flowers in a community garden. I expertly avoided the poison ivy that was growing by the wall where we were shoveling. But a far more sinister event awaited me.

After our work was done, a group of us went to someone's house to enjoy a beer, eat some ice cream, and chat.

As we were walking down the sidewalk, we saw something fall out of a tree and heard a powerful thud. Being curious folk, we scurried over to see what it was. A nut? A stick?

One of the guys reached down to flip it over, but just in time we all registered what it was.

The head of a very recently deceased bird.

As we looked up into the tree, I half expected the bird's butt to fall on our faces. Knowing my experience with the contents of bird butts, this wouldn't have come as a shocker. There was a crow in the tree, rejoicing ominously in its fresh meal.

Ah, nature is full of treasures.

Annoying Dream Syndrome Dictionary

The following entries are definitions of various phenomena that occasionally occur in my dreams:

Bladder Syndrome
1. The action in your dream gets interrupted by encounters with bathrooms that are dirty and disgusting. Often the bathrooms become increasingly more disgusting as the dream progresses.
2. You are looking for a restroom in your dream, and the only toilets you can find are in public places, such as parking lots or classrooms.

Bladder Syndrome commonly occurs when you have to pee in real life. It's your brain's cruel way of edging you awake to pee in your own clean, private toilet.


Blind Syndrome
1. You are trying to open your eyes, but are unable to do so. May or may not be accompanied by the feeling of being tired.
2. You are able to open your eyes, but everything is covered in a gray haze or is very blurry.

Often occurs during important exams, or at moments when you are about to read a document that will tell you the cure for cancer. 


Broken Syndrome
1. An important object in your dream is broken. WARNING: This may be infectious.

ie. One telephone is broken. You try a second phone. It starts ringing! Then, it cuts out. Every single phone you try is broken. 


Maze Syndrome
1. You can't seem to find your way around anywhere. Actually, this is kind of like real life for me. But more intense.
2. You have a map that changes every time you look at it.
3. You walk out of a room, and when you try to walk back into the same room, it has changed.

This is especially annoying when you have left something in the living room, which is now in a different place. You not only have to search for the object you wanted, you have to search the whole dang house to find the living room.


Mute Syndrome
1. Your mouth is glued shut, making it impossible to speak.
2. No sounds will come out of you, no matter how hard you try.
3. You are only able to make silly sounds when you try to speak. This includes but is not limited to squawking, barking, or the sound of a toilet flushing.


Naked Syndrome
1. You are naked. You can't find clothes. If you do manage to find clothes, there is some insurmountable force that keeps the clothes off of you, or nakeds you up again. Others may or may not realize that you are in the buff. If they do realize it, they may be upset or like it a little too much for comfort.


Stuck Syndrome
1. You're trying very hard to move, but your feet are glued to the ground.
2. You are able to move, but only in veeeeeerrrrryyyyyyyyy slllloooooooooow moooooootiooonnnnn.

Not unlike swimming in Jello. Not that you've probably experienced that....



Tooth Syndrome
1. Your teeth fall out or crumble. This may occur suddenly or be spread throughout the dream.
2. Alternately, only the bottom half of all of your teeth fall out/disintegrate.
3. Your teeth are very crooked, or become increasingly crooked.


Treadmill Syndrome
1. You walk forever and feel like you're moving, but your surroundings don't change.

WTF, Bird?

Maybe it's confused because the storm made it so dark today, and it doesn't really know what time it is.

Or maybe the poor thing is blind.

It's 2:37 am. There are approximately 2 hours and 18 minutes until sunrise.

And there is a bird chirp-chirping away outside my apartment.

To Catch a Predator

I have reason to suspect that the man that just hit on me is in fact a child molester.

I was waiting for the bus to come after going to a book club meeting, and this man walked past me saying under his breath, "Now there's a sweet little girl." Do men realize that saying things like this under their breath does not attract most women-it creeps them out?

He got to the corner and then turned around and walked back over to me. "You're just too beautiful for me to walk by without talking to you. A girl this pretty shouldn't be standing out here alone." Clearly, because then Creepy McCreepertons try to talk to them. 

Then he asked, "How old are you? Wait, I'm going to tell you how old I am, it might scare you. I'm 35." Oooo! Practically a zombie! I'm frightened.

"I would kiss you right now if it were legal." I'm glad you think it's illegal, then.

He gave me his card, wrote his number on the back and handed it to me saying, "If you see me on NBC, it wasn't me...Seriously." Is he referring to "To Catch a Predator?"

Don't think I'm going to call him, so I'll never know for sure.....

Dream Logic

I had another vivid dream last night. I've always had pretty crazy dreams, but I think I can link some of these recent ones to using valerian root as a sleep aid. On the nights that I take it, my dreams are more intense than usual. And it kind of smells like dirty toenail sludge.  But I sleep soooooo well that it's definitely worth it.

So, last night I was taking a standardized test of sorts, but instead of normal exam questions it had logic questions/riddles.

I kicked ass on Section 1, during the first day of testing.

The second day, however, was a completely different story. Unfortunately, I was afflicted with "can't keep the eyes open or focus vision" syndrome. It's kind of like those "trying really hard to move but my feet are glued to the ground" dreams.

It made it really difficult to read the questions and even more difficult to answer them.

I do remember one question clearly. There was a table loaded up with kitchen utensils. I was supposed to read this riddle and then choose and arrange the correct utensils in a specific order:

"Two are always in a fight, two are always right, take a bite"

Being a genius, I figured out that I was supposed to make the following arrangement:

Observe how the knives are fighting, and the forks are on the right.

Then there was the set of essay questions where I became convinced that the solution was to write answers that insulted how ridiculous the questions were.

Probably I was just pissed off at not being able to keep my eyes open.

Next on The Bestseller List

Last night I was going to write a novel. I had just realized that I was dreaming and thought, "This could be my big break!" Upon actually being conscious, I've decided that a novel might be a little overkill. I'm not sure I want to spend a whole 300 pages on it, so I'll just contain it here:


One of the psychiatrists that I work with was apparently renting an apartment that was attached to the house I grew up in. He had been doing some very interesting research in genetics, which one of my fellow nurses was assisting him in. They wanted to demonstrate their amazing new discovery to me, but they first warned me of the aggressive tendencies of the creature they were creating.

The doctor had an embryo that was developing in a bag of saline. It rapidly grew limb buds. At this point, he injected a smaller embryo into its spine. A long creature with scathing claws and thrashing jaws quickly developed. A small worm was injected into the bag of saline, which the embryonic creation quickly sought out and brutally devoured.

Within a matter of minutes, the creature was fully developed. Usually the experiment would end here, but this time the doctor let it continue. The fetal beast burst out of the bag of saline and leaped onto one of the shelves lining the laboratory. It was...dun dun dun.....

.... a tiny, adorable kitten.

We regarded it fearfully.

"Don't let it bite or scratch you," the doctor warned, "lest you become infected with its venemous rage." Then he left Colleen, my sisters and I to deal with the ferocious devil.

The rest of the evening was spent boldly and dramatically defending ourselves from scratches and attempting to sequester the three other (normal) cats in the house so that our beloved pets wouldn't get infected. We eventually trapped the monster-kitten in my guinea pig's old cage.

This was when we discovered that if not watched constantly, the kitten could morph and squeeze itself out of the cage.

It dawned on us that we would have to kill it.

We tried to be humane. We injected the tiny, 3-pound fiend with 2 mg of Ativan (which is enough to make multi-substance abusers drowsy). But we just couldn't be sure that this magical and cunning violent hybrid was actually dead.

So we microwaved it until it exploded.

Twice.

Problem Solving

Here are some solutions to having too many cookies:

1. Eat a couple and then throw the rest away
     Pros: You feel successful for being so self disciplined
     Cons: Perfectly good cookies in the trash

2. Keep a couple for yourself and take the rest to work/share them with friends
     Pros: You feel successful for being self disciplined
              People at work will smile be happy
     Cons: You miss out on the taste of more cookies
               People at work curse you for making them fat

3. Eat all of the cookies over the span of 1-3 days
     Pros: Obviously, you get to eat all the cookies
              They are fresh
              They are delicious
              You feel happy as you munch
     Cons: Your pants are too tight
                You get a sugar bellyache

4. Freeze the cookies and spread out consumption over the next 1-6 months
     Pros: You get to eat all the cookies
              When you're craving a cookie, you don't have to go through the whole process of baking
     Cons: That monster named Freezerburn
               They rarely taste as good as fresh cookies

According to my calculations, the best option is #3. Stuff your face. It's just the right thing to do. 

Amazon Recommendations

In order of increasing randomness, people who buy Birkenstocks also like to buy:

Books about Plantar Fasciitis (dead on! exactly why I bought them)

Nail clippers (relates to feet)

Ray Bans (has something to do with apparel)

Yoga (okay, maybe aiming for fans of being holistic)

Neti pots (I have used one....not a fan) ---------------------------------->

Paper towels (to clean the shoes?)

Post-its (to write lists to buy more shoes)

Kid Galaxy Morphibians Killer Whale (maybe I do want one...)

 and

Portable handheld 6 inch black light (?)

 

Alice

Alice, where are you going?
"Upstairs to take a bath."
Alice, with legs like toothpicks and
a neck like a gira-a-a-a-a-a-a-afe.
Alice, into the bathtub,
pulled out the plug and then.
OH MY Goodness,
OH MY SOUL,
there goes Alice down that hole.
Alice, where are you going?
Glub, Glub, Glub.



This is the poem my Grandma Evy recited to me while I was taking a bath, followed by the statement, "Well, Lauren, you're pretty skinny too!"

Being a 5-year-old with a very industrious imagination, I was quite alarmed. No, terrified. Horrified. Frantic! I ran hysterically from the bathroom.

For a long time, I refused to even be in the bathroom while the tub was draining. Surely it would maliciously suck me down from across the room. I imagined myself grasping desperately at the side of the tub as the unstoppable vacuum force dragged me into the abyss.

By the time I was 7, I still felt a little uneasy.  I could handle a draining tub as long as I wasn't in it.

Even on the swim team in high school I still had a habit of swimming faster over the drains when I was racing.

Dirty Toothpicks

Once upon a time, when I was a little girl, my mom dropped a container of Party Picks all over the floor.

My mother does not waste a thing. She rinses out plastic sandwich bags with soap and water, and she saves foil for re-use. Plastic cups and silverware could last for decades. (I think we may still have a spoon from a Baskin Robbins that went out of business when I was in middle school).

So, keeping with this tradition of conservation, she picked up the multi-colored toothpicks and put them back into the container, which she labeled "Dirty Toothpicks."

This container was not kept with the other craft items. It was kept in the kitchen cabinet along with clean toothpicks (always just plain wooden), ibuprofen, cupcake liners, and a nut grinder.

In my mind, colorful toothpicks will forever remain "Dirty Toothpicks."

New Body Spray Scents for Spring

I'm always amused by the dramatic way in which scents and lotions are described. Luscious. Tempting. Demure. I've created some new appropriate scents for spring.


This charming new line of springtime perfumes is inspired by Mother Earth and the vivacious spirit of the new season. Innovative interpretations of classic combinations awaken the senses and invigorate the soul. All-natural ingredients.

Rain-Rinsed Lettuce

Give your body and spirit a splash of this refreshing new scent! Crisp, fresh and youthful, it's sure to animate and revitalize you.

Springtime Sprouts

Experience the lighthearted joy of new plants emerging from the earth with this vivid, cheery perfume. Unexpected and bright, it will leave you feeling utterly reinvigorated.

April Wind

If flowery and sweet isn't your thing, you'll surely enjoy the energizing smell of April Wind. With its brisk and edgy qualities, your soul will take flight!

May Flowers

The aroma of a fresh bouquet of May Flowers comes to life with playful femininity. Elegant and seductive with a touch of whimsical, this scent will inspire you with confidence to show your beautiful spirit!

Blossoming Garden Soil

This intoxicating fragrance has a rich, earthy aroma accompanied by sensual undertones of spring rain. Show the world your natural beauty! A great Mother's Day gift for that special Mom with a green thumb.

I Found Kate Middleton's Face in my Sunburn!

I just got back from a vacation in Florida. They have a fabulous radio commercial for a tanning salon that says,

"Why be pale and pasty, when you can be tan and tasty!?"

I think that by Florida standards, the definition "tan and tasty" might mean being approximately the color and texture (and taste?) of beef jerky. Alas, I will probably never reach that color of tan.

I did get some color, but despite my religious hourly application of sunscreen, I still ended up in the red spectrum with a very bizarre pattern of sunburn. The back of one leg, the knee of the other, a patch on my left arm, a splotchy stomach, and a spot on my hip that had a random white "t" in the middle of it.

To see Kate Middleton's face in my sunburn, just tilt your screen.

This is the stuff that keeps me up at Night

Sometimes (maybe nightly...) I have trouble falling asleep because my mind just keeps on running with ideas, and is won't shut the ef up. Here are some of my recent ponderations:

The indecisiveness of Illinois Springtime temperatures made me wonder, "Why do we have to set our air conditioners to 'heat' and 'cool'?" In my grandpa's car, you can just set it to 70 degrees, and it adjusts the temperature to be warmer or colder until it reaches 70 degrees. Why can't we do that in a house? Maybe there's some mechanical reason why not, but I don't want to have to change my thermostat every day (or twice a day).

"It's been a while since I caught quarters off my elbow. Maybe I'll try that tomorrow."

"Did I feed Sally? Is that why she's meowing? She'll live until morning..... Wow, I'm a jerk to my poor cat. Plus, she will meow all night so I'll make sure she has food."

"There must be a machine that peels mandarin oranges. How does it get them so clean?"

"What would I look like bald? Will I ever know the answer to this question?"

"Is there a shoe store where amputees can buy just a left or right shoe? They shouldn't have to pay full price to use half the product."

Potty Predicament

Apparently, I sit really awkwardly on public toilets.

I went to a concert yesterday with my sister at UIC Pavilion (The National and The Arcade Fire, which by the way was incredibly awesome!). So as not to miss any of the show, we decided to use the restrooms before heading down to the floor.

So. Public toilets. I don't like to sit on them. I've cleaned urine off of them too many times. But it takes a really long time to tenderly place toilet paper all around the seat. And if there's an automatic flusher, it is inevitably triggered by such action, and then all of that hard work is lost. So I sit on my hands. I'm going to wash them, so I will end up being all clean.

Apparently, this way of sitting causes me to lean forward too much or something, which is disastrous if I am confronted with one of those stupid ultra-sensitive automatic toilets.

This goat-jammed toilet flushed three monkey flipping times while I was sitting on it. Ridiculous.

And then it didn't flush when I stood up.

Nipple Magnets

No, this is not a post about a new kinky sex toy.

This is a post about Sally and one of her many Super-hero Qualities. Her paws are equipped with nipple magnets.

She pretends to be all sweet, crawling over me and settling down to cuddle on top of me while I'm laying in bed. But her real purpose is to see how many times she can successfully utilize her nipple magnets in one snuggle session.

It never fails. This morning, she carefully and intentionally got me with 3 out of 4 of her paws in just one crossing.

You win this time, Sally. Just remember who feeds you.