Archive | April, 2013

On Blogging

29 Apr

Blogging has been an unexpected journey for me. It started as an extension to the journals I began at age 12 that lasted until about 23, filling five books:

 

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The quote on the cover that says, “Life itself is the most wonderful fairytale” is ironic, really, because from page one the reader can sense the true awkwardness of a chubby, shy, hopeful romantic (even at age 12) who experiences the absolute opposite of anything resembling a fairytale.

The topics within the second half of that top journal alone talk about my friends and I at 15-years-old facing being dumped, eating disorders, rape, my dream date for a dance who broke me into pieces by choosing to go with a girl he said was prettier, drinking, a stomach being pumped, a stabbing, depression and death.

My romantic awkwardness and my tendency to over-think everything continues throughout the five journals and despite every moment that would make most readers cringe as I embarrass myself on the regular, the entire thing is woven together with a sense of “gratefulness, hope and humor” that I had and continue to carry with me as I go.

I stopped writing things down for a few years and when I picked it up again, I chose to blog and decided that no matter what depressing thing happened in the world or in my personal experience, I was going to write for myself and shed a humorous light on life. I was tired of reading and watching awful things, you know? I didn’t expect, or necessarily even want others to read it. I’m grateful that people do read and comment, but I still don’t expect it. I simply wanted to creatively journal for myself and had no idea there was going to be a community aspect.

My stats, number of followers and being Freshly Pressed meant and still mean very little to me.

With that said, I was delighted to meet people, be real and learn that I can make others laugh. I think the community has introduced us all to others who inspire us and/or have somehow changed our lives. Writers can easily connect with each other here–we all know about an artist’s deeper layers that exist within each one of us. It gives us an immediate connection and for some, a way to throw around ideas. Through this I’ve also met some friends I’d like to keep for a lifetime, had conversations with people from all over the world and even had a very odd fan fiction story written about me. I wonder whatever happened to that guy.

Perhaps the real bonus for this little lady has been the dick pictures from past commenters, even though I continually announced that I would laugh at every penis entering my inbox (and I did… that pun was not intended, by the way).

Little did those dudes know about the coffee table book I’ll publish someday called, “Is This Your Dick?” that will highlight all the ding dongs.

So, that’s what makes my blogging experience go ’round.

Why do you blog?

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Katie Couric: Part 1

22 Apr

Two weeks ago, my boyfriend and I went to NYC because yours truly was a guest on Katie Couric’s daytime TV show on ABC. Basically, one of my posts here (I will repost it before the show airs, I am not yet sure of the date) caught the attention of a producer and they invited me to be on the show. Crazy, I know.

I was nervous. I mean, I barely know how to walk in a straight line, my laugh is kind of ridiculous and I often stumble over my words. The other day when I sneezed in the parking lot at work, my shoe flew off and a guy laughed at me. A few weeks ago I fell while running and my shorts got pulled down and guess who wasn’t wearing panties?

What I am trying to say is that things can get weird around here, but I accept this. I was worried, however, that it would be difficult to control this general clumsiness/awkwardness and I didn’t really want to have to tell you a story about how I embarrassed myself in front of Katie Couric, an audience and cameras.

What was a girl to do? I was told that getting a lot of sleep would help, but instead my nervousness led us to margaritas:

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and then this happened…

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…but too many margaritas and that creepy old bikini guy didn’t do the trick, you guys, so the next morning I was up at 5 am thinking of all the ways I was going to screw things up. I thought of how to get out of it and even pretended to have a stomach ache, which my boyfriend saw straight through and resulted in him physically taking my hand and pulling me through New York City to the studio. Bless him.

When we got there, I changed in the green room and went to hair and makeup. The women who fixed me up did a beautiful job, but I felt a bit weird because I don’t usually wear much makeup and I could tell it made my boyfriend uncomfortable, too:

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Him: You’re so….sparkly.

Me: I knew it! I look like a sparkly whore!

Him: Well, don’t worry, it’s just makeup for TV and I bet up close Katie Couric will look like a sparkly whore, too!

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The idea of me hanging out with Katie Couric while we both looked like sparkly whores made me feel a lot better.

We watched the first segment in the green room before someone came to get another woman and I for our segment. Everything after that felt like a whirlwind because suddenly, whilst in a cloud of hairspray, a guy was clipping a microphone to my bra, a woman was using a lint roller on me and the makeup artist was retouching my lipstick.

I don’t remember much that happened after that. The conversation with Katie Couric was short, and funny, but I have no recollection of what was said. She was nice and very laid back and mentioned afterward that she liked my slippers (more on that later) and that I was funny. I secretly celebrated with imaginary high fives all around to everyone nearby.

My boyfriend says I did well, but maybe he’s just being nice. Who knows. I didn’t fall, so that’s a plus. He did mention that he heard me guffaw at Katie’s sex joke while on camera, so I hope they edit that out because yikes.

Anyway, that sums up the time I was on Katie Couric’s daytime show….one of the most random things I’ll ever do. I’ll be able to tell you more about the subject later and will let you know when it airs if you want to DVR it or something.

If I Were A Linguist

14 Apr

This morning in the shower I wrote a poem about being a linguist. I am not a linguist, but this is what would happen if I were one.

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If I were a linguist
who uses her tongue freely,
I would be cunning and write a poem about
driving a lexis
and wearing a diphthong.

There’d be something in there about synnning
and taxes and that’s why
I’d be awkward and have no friends
if I were a linguist,

so I wouldn’t be much different from who I am now,
if I were a linguist.

 

 

Boyfriend Farts

1 Apr

Last night at 3am I woke up startled by a champion fart, but for once it wasn’t my own brand. My eyes flew open and my boyfriend was lying there mischievously smiling.

 

Me (laughing uncontrollably): Ummmm!!!

Boyfriend: Haha, that sounded like a dolphin. Girl, I bet I got you dreaming you’re at Sea World.

 

Then I farted. I said it was in retaliation, but I think I was just laughing so hard that it came out.

 

Boyfriend: Your fart just smells and didn’t sound like a funny animal or anything. Gross, Lauren. You’re gross.

Me: That’s not fair! Boys smell all the time.

 

I fell back asleep a few minutes later and dreamt that it was a beautiful day so my friend Stacey and I went to Sea World. I was excited to see the sea lions, but Stacey first wanted to go to the dolphin show. We sat down and when the dolphins swam out, the sounds they made were all fart sounds and Stacey and I were laughing so hard in the audience that we were crying. My boyfriend was the dolphin trainer.

I woke up laughing and downloaded a fart soundboard on my phone and this morning, instead of working on my first day back from vacation, I listened to farts. My favorite one is called “C-Flat.”

You don’t need to tell me I’m the classiest girl in America, you guys. I already know that I exude sophistication.

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