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.

Cravings

Tonight I really wanted some ranch dressing for my pizza. I knew I didn't have any, but that didn't stop me from checking my fridge for it three times.

Summer Clothing

Yesterday was my day off, and it was very productive. I made a stop in at Target (always dangerous, as there are too many good things to buy). There were a couple of cute, summery shirts that I decided to try on.

The first one took me several minutes to figure out. I tried to slip it over my head and it wouldn't fit over my shoulders. I thought "maybe it has a drawstring under the bust." It was cinched, but no drawstring to loosen. I held it up to my body. Looked like my size, it should fit over my shoulders.

Tried again to pull it over my head and was no more successful than the first time. I thought "Well, I haven't much booty, so I'll pull it up instead." This is when I realized that it was not a shirt. No, It was a romper.

"Well, that's a crock," I thought before I moved on to the next one. It went over my head this time, but I quickly realized that it was another romper with flowier leg holes that I was able to squeeze through.

I couldn't resist the temptation to see how ridiculous it looked. Of course, it gave me a monster wedgie (probably because I was expecting it to only have to cover my torso and not also my tushie).

Here it is in all its glory:

It looks like an ice-skating dress?

True Confessions

When I was probably about 7-8 years old, one of my friends was spending the night at my house, in the basement. For some reason (maybe we had been reading about vampires?), we were afraid to go upstairs. Or maybe we were just lazy.

So we took the easy/less frightening route and went to the back room in the basement, where our cat's litter box resided. We took turns squatting and peeing. Heck, the cat did it, why not us? Made perfect sense at the time.

Smell-o-vision

Imagine a world where you could have a more complete television experience. One full of sights, sounds, and . . .  smells?

Could be a good thing if you were watching The Food Network.

But think of all the movies that would become terribly unpleasant:

1. The Lion King (Pumba's flatulence)
2. The Blob
3. Psycho (dead mother)
4. Monty Python and the Holy Grail
5. Moby Dick
6. The Corpse Bride
7. Shrek
8. Remember The Titans (group of sweaty guys)
9. Pirates of the Carribean
10. The Exorcist

Judy's Ghost

Here is an excerpt from "Judy's Ghost." The beginning of the story has some long-winded explanation about a girl with a secret passage in her bedroom who has to move to a new house (that also a secret passage) with her parents and brothers, Eric and Sam. She discovers that the house is haunted....

It was our first night in the house.  I had just heard a voice saying, "Judy, Judy, 10 o'clock, time to go to bed."  The voice was faint and it sounded far off. 

It repeated, "Judy, Judy, 10 o'clock, time to go to bed."  I heared a rush of wind and I heared footsteps outside of my door.  It was open and nothing was there.  I turned off the light and went to bed. 

The next morning, Saturday, I was awake but I didn't want to get up.  "Judy, Judy, 7 o'clock, time to get up," said the same faint voice.  This time it was from around my desk.  Some papers moved with no wind or anything.

The next time I heard the voice it was by my ear.  "Judy, Judy, 7 o'clock, time to get up."  Somebody knoked on the door 5 times. 

When I answered it there were 2 bloody knives in the door.  One had a note in it that said BEWARE! 

I had been so stunned I didn't see a thing standing there in a black cape.  I grabbed the cape, hoping it was Eric or Sam.

A white figure screamed and dissapeared.  Nobody ever heard the voice or found a knife in the door again.

Race Revealed

A couple of months ago, a patient asked me quite seriously, "Are you white?" 

 

 

(this is me)

 

When I said that yes, I am, he gave me a very puzzled/angry look of disbelief. Don't judge him. I think this can all be explained by what a little girl at the pool told me several years ago.

 

I have a birthmark on my arm, roughly the shape of Illinois. 

 

 

Children always say in wide-eyed horror, "Is that a scab? What happened to you?! Did you fall down?" They are often a little stumped by what a birthmark is, but are usually satisfied when I tell them "It's just a big mole that I've had since I was born."

One little girl at the pool where I worked as a lifeguard was not so easily convinced. She would play in the water for a while, then come over and ask me another question. "Does it hurt? Has it been there since always? Did it always be the same size? How old are you? Do you have another one?" 

 

Finally, she came to me with a satisfied expression of knowing and said confidently, "I know what happened to you. You were born a black baby. As you got older and grew, it just shrank and shrank and shrank, and now it's this size. When you're a mom it's going to be like the size of a Skittle and when you're a grandma it will be just a little freckle."

 

Mystery solved.

Times I Have Been Pooped On By Birds

1. All over my back from a pigeon in the flock I was feeding a hot dog bun to. Should have learned my lesson then.

2. Double duty in a flock of seagulls on the beach in Florida.

3. Feeding a pigeon in LA. Never again will I feed a pigeon.

4. Some stupid bird at the Notre Dame Cathedral.

5. Pigeon in New York City. Discovered that I didn't have to be feeding the damn things, they'd still poop on me.

6. My shirt was pooped on while hanging out to dry (I guess this only counts for half, but there was the episode when I was hit twice by those gulls).

7. By some squawking bird roosting on a tree in Mexico.

8. Pigeon in Spain. By this point, I have become paranoid of all pigeons, who I am sure have a secret international society that scouts me out for target practice. Convinced that when they are cooing and fluffing up their feathers that they are preparing to drop a fat one on me.

9. Walking with my college roommate, swinging my arms. I swung my arm forward and the bird poop splattered onto my moving hand.

And last but not least......

10. Through the sunroof of a moving vehicle. Am I lucky or what?!

Destruction Chicken

When I was in 4th to 5th grade, I started writing all these dark stories about death and doom. My parents actually asked one of their friends, who was a teacher, "Do you think she's....okay?" They were assured that it was "totally normal."

Here is a fourth grade Lauren Original News Report:

Destruction Chicken

There is a giant chicken on the loose.  5 people have reported seeing it in their apartment buildings.  I interveiwd Mrs. Boloroni.

"At 3:00 Monday morning I heard a noise," exclaimed Mrs. Boloroni, "I ran to see what it was and there was a 10 foot chicken outside my door.  It pluked out some of my hair!"

"Was there anyone who saw it other than you," I questioned her.

"There must have been.  I heard screames and yelles!" explained Mrs. Boloroni

There have been reports of dead dogs and cats.  So beware and keep all pets and children inside!

And that is the story for tonight.

Watermelon Nosebleed

One summer in high school, one of my friends and I had the brilliant idea to carve a watermelon and leave it as a gift for someone. We got the most beautiful watermelon we could find. We were looking forward to scooping out the insides pumpkin-style and devouring them to fuel our artistic ideas.

My friend took a bite and scrunched her nose. "I don't think this tastes right."
 
I slowly chewed, trying desperately use my imagination to transform the flavor into something a little more watermelon-y. At last I conceded, "Yeah, it tastes fermented."

Since we couldn't eat it, we decided it wasn't worth the effort to scoop the whole thing out, so we just carved a face in it. Nasty foot-scented watermelon juice trickled out of the eyes and gushed out of the nose.

We left it by the front door at our friend's house. Unfortunately, her family was on vacation, so they didn't find the melon until 3 days later when it was moldy and caved in and had left a permanent stain on their front porch.

We always thought "Watermelon Nosebleed" would be an awesome name for a band. We would have hit songs like "Sex and Lunchables" on our platinum album entitled "Llama Llama." Sadly, we didn't have any musical talent other than being able to play the tambourine.....

Congratulations!

I have a cat named Sally. When I was little, my plan was to have at least 10 children, all of whom would be named Sally. I am now fairly certain that I will not allow that many babies to spring out of my uterus, unless my recent dream comes true.
 

I was pregnant, and I was having an ultrasound.

The ultrasound tech said, "Ooooh! Congratulations on your babies!"

"Babies? Am I having more than one?"

"Why, yes! You will soon be the proud mother of 21 kittens.You must be so happy!"

"Kittens?! That's impossible."

"Yes, kittens," the tech said in a patronizing tone. "You can see them right here on the monitor."

I started to feel all the kittens squirming and kicking. Naturally, I was flipping out. "Okay, but I don't understand how I got pregnant with kittens. How did they get there?"

(Angrily) "Well, if you can't see this miracle as a blessing, I think we're done here."


I hope this isn't foreshadowing my becoming an old cat lady....