I want to hug you
on Bahia Honda beach or
in Baltimore on an autumn afternoon.
We can hug in Central Park,
or on the glass skywalk
over the Grand Canyon.
It frightens us both,
but I want to hug you there
in snow or spring
or on state lines so
we can be in two places at once,
or four if we’re running west.
I have this feeling,
together we can do anything
and wherever we go,
I want to hug you there.
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Hugs All Over
14 Oct
Charm City Heroine Versus Junkie
3 OctEvery now and then, a charm city chick might find herself crouched on the floor behind her bed, waiting for the police to arrive. It’s in that moment she realizes the only person she really has is herself, so she better get her dull knife ready in case she has to stab a bitch.
She focuses on her breath as she hears the intruder’s footsteps get louder. For some reason she is steady and unafraid. She smiles and wonders if maybe Baltimore should be considered a training course for the zombie apocalypse (our silly heroine has a habit of making jokes to herself during serious moments).
When the police turn up, she discovers it was just the neighbor’s junkie son trying to break into the wrong house. No big deal, he’s cool most of the time.
Or is it a big deal?
This was her fifth call to the police in four years. Most people don’t call the police that much, but she often finds herself observing or being a part of very odd situations involving very odd people–usually in the John Waters sense. Despite all the laughs she gets from these characters, she doesn’t always enjoy living in Baltimore, especially when she’s in danger or things get out of hand.
Why does she stay? Well, it’s interesting how family ties might keep a heroine in a place she doesn’t want to live.
Little does she know (okay, she knows) that soon she will be invited by the story’s hero to try somewhere and something completely new. He has a few things to take care of first (you know, hero stuff). When he finally asks her to come with him, it is advised that he arrive on a magic carpet and be prepared for a duet.
Just saying.
Will she then accept his offer? I wouldn’t know. Until we find out, someone should probably buy that girl a better knife…and a large suitcase.
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What I Learned at 27
30 SepMy weekend was relatively lame and I’m sorry to report that I have no stories about me falling down or kissing all the wrong men. So, here’s another list. Yaaaaaay.
Tomorrow I turn 28. Here are 27 things I learned this year:
1. Drinking alone isn’t so awful.
2. Toe hair is no joke.
3. Hula hooping is fun.
4. Everyone is going to die, so don’t take your loved ones for granted.
5. I need to follow my heart, no matter how stupid it makes me look.
6. If someone doesn’t treat me well, fuck them (“middle finger” sense, not “penis inside me” sense).
7. Not that I’m complaining, but most men on the internet are fucking freaks (okay, yes, I’m complaining).
8. Being alone isn’t half as scary as I thought.
9. Birthday sex is so overrated…probably. (Work with me here, I’m trying to make myself feel better.)
10. If I leave my car unlocked, a prostitute will have sex in it.
11. I can’t get high and listen to Nights in White Satin because it makes me feel like I am in a movie.
12. I’m not weird, I’m limited edition.
13. Despite what I was hoping, the majority of men really do think with their dicks.
14. Everyone gives advice about love and it’s all different. I appreciate the help, but I can’t always listen–I need to live my life!
15. One can lose a lot of weight by dancing every day.
16. Doing the robot on Skype is hilarious to the right naked man, and all the other naked men will not find it funny.
17. I’m romantic and that’s okay.
18. Laughing is SO MUCH FUN.
19. It is possible to live without cable.
20. The past is past and what happened, happened.
21. Living in love isn’t easy at first, but it changes thinking patterns and IS fabulous.
22. Never stop being grateful.
23. Love should feel good.
24. Tequila and grapefruit juice are delicious together.
25. Being married to me will be fun and super sexy (I hang out with me, I would know).
26. It’s okay to be a funny girl.
27. I still have no idea what I’m doing!
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Modern Faerie Tale
27 SepRecently I overheard two women being bratty about the gifts they receive from their husbands. It reminded me of a certain birthday gift I received for my 25th birthday.
I dated a guy who knew me like a book. For two years he drove me to work every day, we talked all day at work and we spent all of our evenings together. We brushed our teeth together, watched TV together and even showered together. He knew my habits and routines. He even knew my specific, classy taste in jewelry.
When he asked me what I wanted for my 25th birthday I said, “Surprise me.” So, this is what I got:
1. Yes, what you are seeing is a necklace with a locket that says, “I believe in Faeries.”
2. Yes, that is a small vial of “Faerie dust.”
3. Yes, that is the nerdy/archaic “ae” spelling.
4. No, I do not believe in “faeries,” nor have I ever expressed even a mild interest in such mythical beings.
_____
How would you react in this situation? I laughed because I thought it was a joke. It wasn’t a joke, and he spent the rest of the day moping around the house because I laughed.
I think we both learned important lessons that day and I invite you to take this knowledge with you when you go–
Women: Quit your bitching. If a man asks you what you want, tell him or narrow it down because guess what? It doesn’t matter how well he knows you, he may get you a goddamn fairy necklace.
Men: Unless your lady absolutely fucking adores fairies, there isn’t a single circumstance that warrants purchasing a fairy necklace. If she isn’t bleeding fairy dust, don’t get that necklace! Do you understand me? Don’t you fucking do it!
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I Want It Now
21 SepMy birthday is coming up soon and since it is very possible that my dad reads my blog, I would like to share my birthday list so he and my mom can start shopping. Don’t worry, daddy, I promise not to get too Veruca Salt on your ass this year.
1. Money for a tank of gas.
2. Shoes.
Tell mom I’m an 8 1/2
3. A clever teapot.
I just want to tell you so much…I love this teapot
4. This Pasotti Ombrelli. It’s like a fucking scepter with a pretty umbrella on the end. I don’t own an umbrella, and I’m in need of a scepter, so this will be perfect.
Only $215.00
5. Underpants. I needs ’em (seriously, I haven’t worn underwear in like a month).
It’s true
6. GIMMIE THIS PIG.
I shall name her Gertrude
7. A funny boyfriend who enjoys copious amounts of sexual activities and doesn’t mind killing the spiders in my basement. He should also like wine, cheese and hugging me.
A silhouette attempt
8. I ask every year, so I’m not sure why you still haven’t gotten me a fucking beautiful unicorn.
Look, two fucking beautiful unicorns. I want the less feisty one.
9. Lastly, Blackwood Distillers makes a triple distilled vodka that is ice-filtered through Nordic birch charcoal and then is passed through a sand of crushed diamonds and other gems. Price? $1,060,000. It’s so beautiful that I probably won’t even cry or text an ex-boyfriend when I drink it (just kidding, I probably will).
This is necessary for your daughter’s happiness, daddy. Love you!
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Drunk Girl Writing
7 SepAndrew of Shut Up Dad inspired me to try drunk writing. So, here I am. I was hoping there would be a masterpiece in my brain by now, but I’ve got nothing and now I’m just a little wasted and feeling a whole lotta freaky. Thanks, Andrew.
I have decided to take this opportunity to have a little chat with the menfolk. Ladies, this is where your reading ends for today. Sorry. Here, watch this video of cute baby animals whilst the men and I continue:
Gentlemen,
Come, gather ’round. HEY, Le Clown, eyes up here.
Don’t worry, I shall present my thoughts and queries in list form for ye who supposedly sport a short attention span. Right, let’s dive in.
1. Just because I’m kind of a dude, it does not mean I want to hear about your balls. Don’t tell me stories about them unless you have a medical problem and need to vent. Otherwise, I’m serious. Stop with the ball chatter.
2. Unless there has been a sexual agreement, don’t ask me or your possible future second (or third) wife on a first date to your house. Bitches, please. Show some respect and at least take us out so we can get our drank on.
3. Our nipples will remain attached to our bodies, just like yours, so please stop trying to suck them off. Also, please don’t turn them like knobs. I am not a door. There is no Narnia inside this closet.
4. Don’t fart when we’re in the shower together. Are you people kidding me with that? I think farts are awesome and all, but H2O (as water vapor) easily attaches to methane molecules by the chlorine atom, or the sulfur released from bacteria, making your butt smell attach more easily to my nostrils and subsequently sustaining that foulness for a longer period than when we are, say, in the car. Enjoy your brand on your own shower time, fellas.
5. FYI: Most of us prefer your medium-sized weens to the giant weens. Promise.
6. Would a blowjob be positively enhanced if I switched between coldish and very warmish liquids? Just curious.
7. Thank you for all of your kind words and funny comments over the past few months. My entire workplace must think I’m insane as I boisterously laugh at your wit and questionable humor.
8. Regarding the art of manscaping, you all seem to be doing well with that. We approve.
9. Please go do something nice for your lady if you have one. You owe her for farting in the shower.
10. Thank you for joining El Jimador and I for this chat. Good talk. Time to pass out.
Love,
Lauren Ann (I included my middle name, that’s how you know I mean business).
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Young Marlon Brando
4 Sep
I was making my way into work this morning when a guy who looks like young Marlon Brando grabbed my arm:
Young Marlon Brando: Hi…
Me (pulling arm back): Hi?
Young Marlon Brando: Sorry, this is weird, but do you want to meet me for a drink after work?
Me: Does anyone ever tell you that you look like young Marlon Brando?
Young Marlon Brando: HEY STELLA!!
Me: Hahaha, that’s a yes. I’m Lauren. Do you work on campus?
Young Marlon Brando: No, I’m here on business. Will you meet me?
Me: How about Camden Pub at 5:15?
Young Marlon Brando: Looking forward to it.
And then he kissed my hand and walked away. Smooth. I didn’t get his name. Those eyes. Smooth indeed.
My, young Marlon Brando, what sexy lips you have….is it getting hot in here? No? I guess I did have a lot of coffee, which would explain why I’m so nervous and jittery. Just breathe, Lauren, you don’t even know that guy’s name. I need to keep it together. KEEP IT TOGETHER. I need to keep my legs together. Oh god, I should have worn panties today.
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Be Yourself
1 SepBe yourself. Love yourself. Dance like there’s nobody watching. Be a first rate version of yourself and not second rate version of someone else. It’s better to be hated for what you are than loved for what you are not.
You know these sayings and others like it. Are we actually living by them? Are you being yourself? If not, are you happy?
I lived by a different motto for a long time: “Be yourself….but be like everyone else. Pretend and lie. Hide.” Where did that get me? For starters, I spent most of my life as a shy, sad little girl who thought she was ugly and uncool. I still don’t fucking know what it means to be “beautiful” or “cool,” and I am perfectly okay with that fact. Why? Because I am grateful and I am myself and I have never been happier.
The most raw, refreshing, beautiful feelings I have ever had came when I decided to experience life as myself. Then I loved myself, and once I loved myself, that’s when other things, good things, started to fall into place. It isn’t always easy, but I’m telling you, you’re going to love it.
I don’t want to see anyone miss out.
So, who am I? My name is Lauren. I love to laugh. I like dorky stuff. I’m a romantic. I speak in a British accent in my head. I dance a lot. I don’t lie. I want 5 cheeseburgers and 100 oreos in my belly right now. I think my eyes are pretty. I’m playful. I believe true love is really real. I love sex. And witty banter. I like being held. I think I would be a great mother. I’m indecisive. My favorite color is green. Or maybe pink. I don’t watch the news. I’m impatient and sensitive. I don’t like being alone. I write poetry. My heart goes into everything I do. I still pretend I’m a mermaid when I go swimming. I had 3 orgasms yesterday. I do actually like long walks on the beach
and I want to know, who are you and are you being your unique self?
I’m half sick of shadows. We owe it to ourselves to live.
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Reasons Men Exist
9 AugAfter 10 months of focused research, I have finally created a comprehensive list of the main reasons that men exist. Please let me know if I’ve left any out.
My results show that men exist to:
– Grill amazing things
– Remove bugs
– Zip up my dress
– Fasten my bracelet
– Check if food is too hot before I take a bite
– Find out what that sound was downstairs
– Remind me that I live in a land of make-believe
– Reach high places
– Hold *this* for a second while I look for/do *that*
– Make me laugh
– Pick which shoes I should wear after I’ve narrowed it down
– Fix the toilet
– Tell me when there’s something wrong with my car
– Teach me about something that I didn’t originally find interesting,
such as space or different types of screwdrivers
– Remind me that farts exist and that they are hilarious
– Accidentally say something stupid while trying to compliment me
– Remind me that so many other women are hotter than I am
– Fix my electronics
– Practice impregnating me
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August 3, 2011
3 AugOn August 3, 2011, Dane and I went to the beach and it was a lot of fucking fun (he hated it when I said ‘fuck’ because a “little lady in pearls shouldn’t have such a dirty little sailor mouth”).
Fuckity, fuck fuck fuck. I say it all the time now to see if he will come haunt-scold me just so we can hang out for a little bit. So far, I have had zero luck with this plan, but I do get to say ‘fuck’ a lot, so, I have that going for me.
One hour after I took this photo, we got in the water and a wave knocked me off my ass and took me down. Dane said I disappeared for a minute and when he saw me, I was rolling up the beach with seaweed in my hair and my boobs hanging out. Both of them. And what did he do? He pointed and laughed, drawing attention of other people who then all saw my heaving, washed-up bosom covered in sand. If ever there was a hearty laugh that came out of that man, it was on that day.
That night, we played Pirate themed mini golf and he said he “tried” letting me win because of the whole wave incident, but I was just that terrible at mini golf. Whatever, I was just having an off day. Afterward, we went out for dinner and drinks and I had the best scallops I have ever had in my life.
Then we got more drinks and I did the Carmen Electra Booty Shake for a group of people and then I danced to classic rock with old white trash guys while Dane laughed and then I had “just one more” and he ended up having to carry me to the car.
I guess I am telling you this because August 3, 2011 was the beginning of a great week with my best friend. It was certainly better than what I’m doing now, which is sitting on my couch with ice on my ankle because I fell under a streetlight while running last night and my shorts half fell off, revealing a single butt cheek, and then two guys laughed at me. I cried and limped myself a mile back to an empty house.
I must admit, there are few things after a good cry that are better than ice cream.
Anyway, that’s what I was doing a year ago. If you love someone, hug that person nice and tight and have a good weekend. (Dane, if you’re reading this, I don’t want to be haunt-scolded for saying ‘fuck’. You know ghosts terrify me. Miss you.)
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La La
Dog lover. Storyteller. Urbanite-Suburbanite. Poet. Music addict. Editor. Explorer. Wine enthusiast (Malbec, please). Anglophile. People watcher. My dream job? Writer, or a Tom Jones back up singer. Well, not Tom Jones now, but Tom Jones in the early '70s...so let's go with the writing thing.
tales of a charm city chick 
