Tag Archives: love
3 Jan

Here is where I guess it actually ends.

I never believed in anything until about seven months ago. I mean, I had hoped for things, but never truly believed in anything. Then someone I knew dearly and at one point loved romantically, died.

It rained buckets on the day of his funeral. I do not mean to be disrespectful when I say that the symbolism of this downpour was “appropriate,” but it was like we were in a movie or something. As we stood in the cemetery, the rain drenching us, I realized what many of us know but usually take for granted–life is short. Life is so short, we ought to be truly happy.

It is not that I was completely unhappy, but more that I was just existing. You may know this feeling. So, I took a chance and began believing in happiness. Over the weeks that followed, little things started happening, good things, so I continued to believe.

Soon I saw that the sparks of happiness were actually created by me and I realized that I was developing a new love for myself, too.

This week I faced a great difficulty and during this time it hit me that these two things, love for myself and happiness, will get me through anything.

So, here is where it ends. Fear, I mean. I am not afraid to continue down this path of happiness. I am not afraid to be in love. I am not afraid…what a wonderful feeling.

If you have not yet achieved this, you should take a chance and let the rain wash away fear for the sake of your own happiness, too.

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Charm City Heroine Versus Junkie

3 Oct

Every 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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Drunk Girl Writing

7 Sep

Andrew 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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Reasons Men Exist

9 Aug

After 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 Aug

On 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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things they want me to do in bed.

26 Jun

Not those things. These things:

 

 

Once upon a time, my friend and I went to the bar, got drunk and she spent the night. We went up to my room and she watched me do my evening routine (above).

 

K: This is the least sexy thing I have ever watched.

Me: What? They say to use the Biofreeze and dog bone for my neck, the cast thing to keep my arm straight while I sleep, the sock thing goes under it and the green band so my hair doesn’t get in my face and make me break out.

 

Then I went and looked in the mirror and I was not hot at all, so I did a dance.
 

K: It’s still not sexy.

Me (air humping): Boys love it.

K: When’s the last time a boy saw your room?

Me (still dancing): 2011.

K: We are going to fix this, and when we do, no Biofreeze.

Me (doing some form of dougie): I know, I’ve already learned that lesson.

K: Poor guy.

Me (still douging): Poor me too! Don’t worry though, a hero will soon save me from sexual deprivation, I feel him coming.

K: Hah, coming.

Me (more douging): Come, let’s dougie.

 

And so we did, at 3 am, to no music.

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Men, Muscles and Money, Oh My!

18 Jun

 

I thought that perhaps the media was exaggerating how beautiful/ridiculous the people are in South Beach, but I was wrong. On my first day there, I went to the beach alone and observed gorgeous, ripped dudes in expensive sunglasses hitting on girls and strutting around talking about sports and how awesome they are at being lawyers. In the past, you would have found me disgusted, bitter and annoyed by this entire show, but I laughed and actually enjoyed it. A couple of them talked to me and I even thought some of them were hot. Yep, I said hot.

How is this possible? Well, I learned that there is a huge difference between this Lauren and past Lauren. Past Lauren was a bitter girl who thought she was ugly and didn’t deserve good things and she didn’t know what she wanted and would have accepted anything, so she attracted all the wrong situations and got confused when guys were total dicks. She felt like a victim of douchebaggery and started hating and judging all guys in general, making relationships with men frustrating for both parties.

Current Lauren loves herself and she loves men, too. I realized while in Florida, that one of the major steps it took to get here is highlighted in this article given to me by my friend’s boyfriend:

Every woman needs a ‘gaggle’ of men

Single ladies, you need to read that article. Married people, what do you think?

I have many men in my life, in many enriching ways, who are all teaching me about myself and my needs and desires and leading me closer to the guy and relationship I want. My “gaggle” has taught me so much about men, too (they aren’t all jerks, and even the tough looking ones may be soft underneath those superman pecs).

I guess the point I am trying to make is that d-bags happen. Once you have confidence and know what you want, it’s easier to gain respect and not feel like a victim. You can even have fun and find out that some of them are admiring you and not raping you with their eyes, just as I discovered while watching and interacting with these fine, peculiar specimens as they strutted around on the beach like macho birds.

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thoughts from BWI airport

11 Jun

 

I am sitting by myself at the airport, people watching like a champ, and thinking about how funny it is that many of these people are trying so hard to hide that they are a little weird. I am happy to be a little weird. You all (creative people/bloggers) have helped me embrace this loving weirdness and I am forever grateful. Thank you. I weird you guys. ♥ 

I am meant to embrace it and 2012 brought me here. Right now I am a raw nerve. Maybe those of us who are coming unglued were being held together by Elmer’s School Glue and this year is putting us back together with something like Gorilla Glue (or whatever is strong–I am no glue connoisseur).

Okay….time to board a plane and get crunk. It is Monday, after all. Also, look at this funny ass cat:  

 

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far out!

17 May

I received my 1,000th like today. Aw, thanks guys! I feel like I won a prize. I wish the prize was that I could invite all of you to a 3-day drunken beach party/writing seminar. I think we should do it. We will have a few speakers and development sessions followed by some group work and creative writing exercises. At sunset, the poets will have a poetry orgy. How fun!

At some point during the party, because it is my dream, I might force all of you to recreate the opening from Beach Blanket Bingo:

 

 

It would be the absolute ultimate! I hope you all know how to shake your hips.

On Friday night we can have a story time bonfire and a luau on Saturday night. The entire thing will be catered and there will be a full bar. We could meet, learn and have fun. I’m getting excited just thinking about it!!

One evening, my modern Moondoggie will sing this to me (it’s my party so what I say, goes):

 

 

Would you come to my party? I hope so. If I had the funding, I would make it a reality.

 

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In memory.

14 May

 

I would like to say I am sorry for the time we fought and I got all worked up and did not know what to do so I farted on your cat and shouted, “Take that!”

Hey, it lightened the mood and we both laughed so hard that we couldn’t breathe. Isn’t that the best kind of laughter?

Later, you told me I should post about it, but I never did because, I mean, who does that? Well, I guess I do. Hey, I never said I was perfect.

I am sure you’re having a nice laugh in heaven right now remembering that one.

Life will be forever different after today and you know what? I have never been so scared. I will miss the way you used to hold my shoulders, look in my eyes and say, “Be brave, you’ve got this.  I’ve seen what you can do.”

Be brave.

I think that today, after your funeral, I am going to go home and hug your stinky cat, run in the pouring rain and sing every song from Grease 2 at the very top of my lungs. That was our favorite.

Rest easy, Dane. Wow, I am going to miss you.

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