Foolish Girl

2012-01-30T13:30:00.000-06:00

I get into this rut of thinking that I won't let myself have anything that is good for me, or allow myself to be happy because I hate myself too much.

Then I watch some porn and jerk off and it is abundantly clear that I don't hate myself that much.

I will not let my vagina be the hole someone buries their problems in. I have enough of my own. I don't need anything else weighing me down.

Likewise, I will not bury my problems in someone else's genitals. It isn't healthy or kind.

I would rather be alone and celibate than sick and unkind.

2012-01-29T19:59:00.000-06:00

Hey, Self Loathing, it's me.

I know we had a dinner date this evening, but I'm not really feeling up to it.

I really hope you understand.

Let's reschedule.

Thanks. Bye.

Live in the Now

2012-01-28T12:30:00.000-06:00

This phrase was told to me on a date, "The secret to happiness is to live in the now". In truth, it doesn't deserve quotes. I am paraphrasing by making it a complete sentence. And to be more truthful, I don't know what is more embarrassing, going out with a person who can't complete a thought or retelling the story and trying to make you believe they can.

I find myself reflecting on the things people have said to me on dates as if that person had even a little bit of intellect or at least some great purpose in my life. It usually happens in the shower, that is where I do my best and least important thinking.

"Live in the now" is what lazy, feeble minded men tell sapless women in an attempt to get them to spread their legs. It probably even works sometimes. But it is utter bullshit. Granted, life is short. The pace seems to quicken with every hour. We should enjoy all of it. I firmly agree. Here is another piece of wisdom that these men (and women) may not have heard "choices have consequences".

We do not live in a "live in the now" society. We live in a call ahead to make an appointment, schedule your vacation, 30 day notice society. We live in a four year college, masters program, PhD society, where the wealthiest and most successful planned. A lot. Nobody fell off a curb and into a million dollars unless they planned to get hit by a bus. We live in a save for a rainy day, 401k, invest in your future, retirement plan society. If everyone lived in the now, when you grow old, broke down and tired, as you most certainly will, you will have nothing and no one. The "now" won't be very pleasant.

Living in the now may bear some pretty ripe fruit, it is the stuff that stories are made of. As a for instance, herpes. So fuck that stranger, and tell yourself you are living in the now. For ever after your "now" will be having open sores on your genitals. Ponder that. Here is another little nugget for pondering, unwanted pregnancy. If you thought open sores were bad, how about a screaming, shitting vacuum that sucks on your titties day and night, and I'm not talking about your date.

If everyone lived in the now we would all be obese junkies drowning in debt.

In conclusion, ladies and gentlemen, go sell your weak ass "live in the now" philosophy to someone who wasn't already road weary from it at 20. Your poorly thought out , over used plan to get me to fuck you is obvious. You aren't a very good salesman. You should practice, but that would mean planning for your future.

Self affirmations

2012-01-18T12:27:00.000-06:00

Yes, I realize that I am hot. I get it. People, men and women, want to fuck me, really really attractive people even. Great. That is really special. I realize that not everybody feels that way and so I should at least be a little grateful. So there, I'm a little grateful.

Also, it doesn't feel real great all the time. It especially doesn't feel great when the people who are going at you the hardest are your friends. Getting drunk and groping your friends is fun, and usually wouldn't bother me, but I am pretty fragile right now, and I need to know that people don't just hang around me so they can get me drunk and fuck me. Like everyone else in the world.

I am a lot more than a rocking little body and pretty face. A lot. I am pretty fucking awesome, in fact. I'm smart and funny and I could probably kick your ass. I know that if I told the fucktard who is hitting on me at any given moment exactly what I was thinking I would probably have to put my money were my mouth is, because they would probably be inclined to fight me. Unless I'm drunk, then I am really nice and smiley.

I get really tired of the thinly veiled line of bullshit in order to get into my pants. I am not gullible or easily manipulated. Here's a fucking newsflash: I didn't start looking like this yesterday. I have been playing the "you won't get into pants unless you're worthy" game for a long time, like since I was 14. I have had a lot of experience with dumbshits. The funny thing is, they are all the same. In almost 15 years of playing this particular game almost nothing has changed. Wait, that isn't funny at all, that is really sad.

So, Lauren, here are some ground rules:

If they can't put in more than a week of work to get laid, move on. You are worth a lot more and they clearly don't have the capital.
If they have to stop and think about the compliment they are about to give you and the pause is so long that you finish their sentence, move on. They don't have the mental fortitude to withstand the barrage of shit you will give them for being slow. They will also bore the shit out of you on a daily basis until you hate them. For your sanity, move on.
Don't ever. ever. ever. get interested in someone when you are drunk. You like everyone when you are drunk! It is the magic of alcohol. That. is. all. Learn your lesson, move on.
If him or her can't make you laugh when you are sober, move on. Quickly. You will tire of them. They will not be able to keep you the slightest bit interested.
If you just feel like they are lying, even if you have no evidence that they actually are, they are. Move on.

These are the most hideous glaring indecencies I have been going through lately. I am positive there are so many more I could write a book. Thankfully, alcohol has made me forget the ins and outs of every nasty little encounter.

I think maybe I should not drink when I go out and just avoid the whole shebang. The problem is I have fun when I am drinking and I don't want to punish myself because a gaggle of assholes assault me every time. I'm trying to reconcile the two: having fun drinking, dancing and going out and then being miserable from somebody rubbing their shit stain of a personality on me.

Are there decent people in the world that I haven't already fucked over?

The reasons why I don't have sex with people I meet at bars:

2012-01-17T16:13:00.001-06:00

This pretty much sums it up.

Nightmare of the century

2012-01-17T12:22:00.002-06:00

I dreamed that I had to have my legs amputated at the knees. I seemed to be taking it really well until the day of the surgery. On that day, I broke down screaming and crying on the ground. It was an outside my body dream, so I was watching myself crawl into a little ball on the doctor's waiting room floor and scream and cry and drool with snot running from my face.

Needless to say, my subconscious really likes my legs intact. So does my conscious.

On a date:

2012-01-12T22:14:00.004-06:00

Me: ... I don't know. I just live in my own head.
Boy: What do you mean?
Me: [doing my best impression of a person who doesn't roll their eyes when they hear a stupid question]

Ok

2012-01-11T01:05:00.001-06:00

Maybe I sold myself a little short in that last post. Here are some more things:

Taking long showers
Reading
Making people think I'm listening
Smiling
Intuiting a person's personality after a brief meeting
Not trusting that intuition
Procrastination

Clearly, I will still fail. I just didn't want to leave these things out.

Things I do well:

2012-01-09T23:33:00.000-06:00

Where a dress
Make poor decisions
Drink too much
Kiss
Laugh
Make jokes

I am destined to fail in this society.

Fridays with Mig

2012-01-06T21:54:00.001-06:00

It's like Tuesdays with Morrie, only no dying old guy, not on tuesdays and a lot funnier.

I'm telling Mig about my New Year's Eve of craziness:

Me: ...and then I went in an alley to pee.
Mig: Where you looking for another date back there?

Damn. That's a good one!

15 ways to make you feel 16

2012-01-03T22:14:00.002-06:00

Numbers 1 - 13: Spend a tiny amount of time around a 27 year old male that is so self absorbed, ignorant, and who thinks his shit doesn't stink in just the exact way you did when you were 16. It reminds me that growing up and getting old is a good thing. I have a hard time with getting older most of the time. Interacting with person who acts like me then, but is the same age I am now is like a slap in the face that says, "Bitch! You are getting better as you age." I am. Clearly, I still think my shit doesn't stink. Somethings never change. Regardless, it's a great way to remember how not to treat people.

Number 14 and 15: Hang out with Kyle. We drove around last night and did stupid shit, and laughed and pissed people off with my driving and then did more laughing. So much laughing. The kind of laughing we used to do when I was 16, before both of us let the pain of life mire our hearts and weigh them down. (I know I shouldn't say things like this. I like going out and being single and getting to make out with random women every time I go out, and not having to answer to anybody. It's really good. It makes me feel free. I feel like saying what I am about to say comes off as using. Fuck. I'm a user. I'm a lot of things. A lot of them not really good, but I am not about to lie about who I am.) I feel like knowing that Kyle loves me no matter what, with all the shitty things I have done to him, with all the utter weirdness, and the history, and the fact that he knows and understands me better than anybody, that I can be myself more when I am away from him. It props me up. It's like I am a duck in an oil spill and a little dish soap is all I needed. Knowing that you can do no wrong makes you feel pretty damn free as well, but in a whole other way.

This life, I'm working on getting better at it. It isn't easy. It is fucking wonderful though.

The New Year's Problem

2011-12-23T19:33:00.000-06:00

The past two New Year's Eves have been pretty hard on me.

12-31-09 I was in New Zealand. You think, What in the hell could be bad about that, loser? Well, that is what this blog post is about. Hold your horses, asshole. 12-31-09 was the first New Year's Eve I had been away from Kyle since 12-31-99. It was a doozie. I laid in a hotel room in Auckland and cried quietly in bed. Eventually, I fell asleep.

Back story.

01-01-00 I was in Austin. I was 16 and it was the first day Kyle ever told me he loved me. We had been dating for 3 months to the date. We proceeded to spend every New Year's Eve together for the next decade. Sometimes we would go to parties. Sometimes we would stay home and have sex into the new year. My superstition says if I'm doing a thing when the new year comes, I will be doing that thing a lot throughout the year. Obviously, there was no argument from Kyle.

12-31-10 I was in Austin. I was also sad and alone. I left a party full of friends to go home to bed and go to sleep. I sure did a lot of that this year. Maybe my superstition was right.

This year I need friends. I need fireworks. I need alcohol. I need fun into the early morning. I need to not be sad. I can't be sad anymore next year. I'm putting my fucking foot down!

2011-12-20T13:16:00.002-06:00

"By the way, you aren't a regular person, alright. You're not one of these stupid sad humps. Stop trying to fool yourself, okay? You're better than these fucking dumb shits." - Nathan Explosion, Metalocalypse

A little pick me up from my favorite band.

The funniest thing I can think of...sitcom plot for sure

2011-12-19T03:24:00.001-06:00

Preface: Wednesday, I go to Kyle's we have dinner. I burned him a copy of one episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. I think this episode is hilarious. I laughed so hard because of one joke. I still think it's funny. It is hard to explain through this medium, because the second you write it, it kills the joke. But, you need to know. The Sunny episode features a black girl named Sha Dynasty. They say Sha Dynasty a lot. Then you see the name in neon and it looks like Shadynasty. Someone says "Shady Nasty? Is that spelled correctly"? Funny. Real funny. Also, I was giving Kyle a hard time because his hair was greasy and it was combed down in a very poindexter-y way.

Thursday, at 5, I get a text from Kyle that says "You're shadynasty". My response, "No, but my hair is greasy." (Which it was cause I had been sweating all day from working out.)

I showered and washed my hair. Then, later that evening I had a date, during which time I became drunk. I left my phone and my wallet in the pocket of my jacket in his living room. In the morning, when I was leaving, my jacket was hung on a rack. I thought, weird. Whatever.

Can you imagine if his roommate went through my phone and saw that amazing text. Oh, fuck. I can't stop laughing. It's poetic. I can just see that play out. Your friend meets a girl in the alley and brings her over, no one has any idea what she is like. She leaves her phone out, so being a good friend and roommate and quite drunk, you take a quick peak. What do you see "You're Shadynasty." !!!! From a guy. Then the response which, is pretty confusing. "My hair is greasy." Oh, jesus. Stomach cramps from laughing. Then of course you tell your friend later the next day. Then Lauren never talks to him again, obviously.

If only I could know that this happened. I swear it would make the horror of dating so worth it. What an epic tale of miscommunication. And and epic tale of how weird Kyle and I are. And the 3,479 reason why I will be alone forever.

Shadynasty Forever.

Good one

2011-12-17T12:32:00.000-06:00

Me: You may be surprised to know that I spent the night with a boy last night.
Male friend: Oh. Reeeeeally?
Me: [Waiting to let that settle in.]
Me: I met him in an alley.
Male friend: [Turns away. Puts head in hand. Collects himself. Turns to me.]
Male friend: How much did you pay for him?
Me: [Laughing]

Boys

2011-12-17T00:45:00.002-06:00

Heterosexuality is so easy.

Typical night out:

2011-12-11T18:41:00.001-06:00

Lauren meets a new person.
Lauren asks this person how old they are.
Person says 27.
It's like 27 is an epidemic.
I have had some really bad runs with 27 year olds.
The world keeps putting them in my path.
I'm starting to think that maybe the author of my life is just fucking with me.
Life is weird.

2011-11-27T22:57:00.001-06:00

I watch movies and listen to songs about heartbreak. They talk about a love that you can't live without. I worry that I will never find that. I want a really good heartbreak. It's been a decade since I have been heartbroken. I think it would do me some good. I need love that will shake me, hurt me, open my eyes. Something to wake me up. I don't know what else will do it.

Realizations

2011-11-24T21:23:00.001-06:00

Here are the reasons I will always be alone.

1. I'm not good at sharing. People tend to do that when they are getting to know one another. It makes me uncomfortable to talk to strangers about the fucked up shit that has happened in my life. Who am I kidding? It makes me uncomfortable to talk to people I love about that shit.

2. I don't lie. I would rather somebody not like me than for somebody to like me for a lie. That goes for feelings too. I don't pretend I have them when I don't, or vise versa. I just say it. No games. I expect it from other people. I don't get it.

3. Interacting with a person I don't connect with makes me feel more alone.

4. The whole thing exhausts me.

On the bright side, I was worried that I would never feel lusty feelings for somebody and I did. That gives me a little bit of hope. Though, I fear that a lot of that could have been alcohol.

I have this fear that I will never meet anyone that excites me. I need a person who can really make me laugh. I need someone to shock me. I fear it won't happen. It certainly won't happen anytime soon. I have given up that dream.

I used to attract really smart, fucked up people, who are unusual and interesting. Now I just attract really dumb people who are shallow. What happened? I fear that it is something I am giving off. It's like all my jaded and closed off translates to "I like dumb shallow people, if you are dumb and shallow please come and find me". How do I fix it?

Thanksgiving

2011-11-23T12:27:00.001-06:00

I thought I would give my body a rest and not exercise this week. I woke up on the wrong side of crazy this morning. My body needs the rest, but my mind does not.

I'm tired of the holidays. I think I will opt out of all Christmas celebrations this year. This year will be my last Thanksgiving. It really sucks. I hate the holidays to begin with and then it is just extra torture when you are hungry and miserable. "Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink" syndrome. Did I also mention that I have already been to THREE Thanksgiving celebrations and I still have 2 more to attend.

So much to say.

2011-11-14T11:19:00.001-06:00

We will all have to settle with this for now. I need to take Bucket to the dog park to visit my brother's puppy.

Lauren: I just need a twenty year old I can mold into the person I want them to be.
Kyle: Yeah, Lauren, that's healthy. 'I'll make you into the person I want you to be because I'm smarter than you. If you don't know it now, you will'.

What can I say? When somebody knows me, they know me.

P.S. Got one on the line. We shall see what happens.

I may have given the wrong impression

2011-11-06T17:45:00.002-06:00

I may have given it out generously. Then I called take-backs. It was shitty. I let my loneliness rule the show for a while. I'm back in charge.

I was looking so fucking hot last night. I think I broke up two couples last night with the shirt I was wearing. And I was the fucking loser looking for the girl who was ditching me.

There is something wrong with me no doubt.

And my friend said on the way home "You were second guessing yourself. It was like I didn't even know you." Ouch. Fucking ouch.

Why am I still thinking about this girl?

And I let her ruin my night.

Why am I constantly searching for ways to waste my time?

Weird dreams

2011-11-04T08:38:00.002-05:00

I was having a dream about going to visit this girl I like. Only I overbooked. Not with one, but two women. So, I have three dates, and instead of turning anyone down I just bring them all to see the first one. How fucked up is that. I was already late when I left, which- no go. Plus, we all get into the car finally and I realize that this red jetta isn't the one I filled up with gas recently, you know, because I have two. So I go back into the house and Bucket comes out of a strange room. He got bit by a bug that turned him into another dog. He was shaped like a cocker spaniel. (Oh, probably because my mom called Bucket, Jumpy last night. That was the name of my first dog who was part cocker spaniel.) So anyways, he was really skinny and had long hair on his legs. He nose was more like a daschund. His eyes were really light, like sea green. When he came out of the room he growled at me. I tried to approach, but he really didn't stop growling. Then, I was like, oh well, have to leave, I'm late.

There are so many parts to this dream that are real fucked up. In my expert opinion, it means I'm afraid of fucking things up with this woman and with Bucket.

I'm going to have a Dr. Pepper and cookies for breakfast. That will help.

clarity through hormones

2011-11-03T19:01:00.002-05:00

How many long distance relationships can one person have? Don't count them yet the days not over yet.

I think I confuse missing someone for real feelings. You can read "daddy issues". Go ahead. We're being honest here.

2011-11-02T23:06:00.001-05:00

Sometimes I get really down on myself for not having any ambition beyond getting laid and traveling. Then, I think, historically, I'm in good company. This is what transgendered people feel. I feel like a man on the inside. I have the soul of a conquistador.

Too much wine. Not enough sleep. Too much thinking. Not enough doing.

Good night.

Life is such a bitch

2011-11-02T07:58:00.000-05:00

You know, I have been sleeping alone for a while now. About a year. Had some intermittent company, but the better part of that year I was sleeping alone. I like it. The past few months I haven't even thought about getting laid. I don't think twice about going home alone to an empty bed. And then. I meet this woman. I was so tired yesterday from helping a friend move and all I wanted was to come home to a smile and get in bed with a soft, warm body who would touch me under the covers.

2011-10-31T08:35:00.000-05:00

Me: I can't hate the police and date a cop. That isn't right.
Male friend: Yes you can, Lauren. Fuck the po-lice!
Me: Well, I'm trying.

2011-10-28T10:34:00.002-05:00

It's the moment when someone reaches in and squeezes your heart when you realize how lonely you were.

Last nights adventures

2011-10-23T17:51:00.002-05:00

I went out. To the gay club, of course. I had so much fun. Like crazy amounts of fun. I went with a friend from high school. She looks very gay. She has a husband. It is fucking awesome. This is how it works. Lesbians are drawn to her, because she looks gay. Then I'm there, and I say no she is straight, but I'm game. That's pretty much happily ever after.

The best part of going to a gay bar with my straight friends is that they are so in to it. It cracks me up. This girl is hot. (Like hottest lez in there besides me hot. Like dimples for days hot. Like so pretty she can pull off a shaved head hot.) She wants me. I want her. We are dancing. Then me and my friend talk and we are laughing and dancing. Then without me prompting she looks for girlfriend and tells me the status. She is talking about you to her friends, she is looking over here every 3 seconds, etc. It's great. It's like I barely have to participate, but I do. Oh, lord, did I ever. We danced all night, until 2 in the morning in fact. Also, the more I go to gay bars with my straight friends I realize how lucky I am to have such good friends. Every gay girl that I tell my friends are straight and just coming for me they tell me what great friends they are. I love getting complements on my friends. It makes me proud they like me.

My favorite part of the night-

Girlfriend: God, you smell good.
Lauren: Say that again.
Girlfriend: You smell so good.
Lauren: I heard you the first time.

I could have listened to her yell that to me all night long.

We both parked across town, it seemed, so the four of us, holding hands, walked back to the car. I had not been on sixth street for years. Not even walking through it. That shit is crazy. Every second step is a fight waiting to happen. We are dodging drunk people left and right. People are falling down, people are being pushed. It is fucked. Never going anywhere near that shit again.

I got her number. We are going out again on Halloween. So excited. Keep you posted.

Comments

2011-10-20T21:55:00.000-05:00

I received this comment on my latest blog post:

"woah! i mean, well, woah. awesome job of validating treating people like shit or "shittily' by blaming them for your actions. hmmmm, i know, if i do bad things or treat someone poorly and no one stops me, well, hey thats on them. i've got to use this method in my own life sometime, ya know when i want to lose all my friends or something. i wonder...well, nevermind. to hell with accountibility and recognizing our role in shitty situations! you rule."

I hardly think that saying "I am not a bad person" or "To my credit" is validating anything. If you notice I never said the way I acted was good or even acceptable. I realize that "dick" can have some good connotation, but it usually doesn't when a person uses it the way I used it. I know that "shitty" never means anything but bad.

Validating a very complicated and difficult time in my life would be extremely difficult in two paragraphs. I was simply making an observation in a light hearted way with as much honesty and as little judgement about my own actions as I am capable of. (Except for that Type A stuff. He doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground, and as far as he was concerned I was little more than a hole in the ground. I was just a little warmer.) I'm biased. So are you. Let's be honest. Being as honest as I can is the only way I can change and grow from less than stellar behavior.

If I seemed in any way to express that the way I behaved was good or that I want to behave that way again, that was not my intention. My intention was to say I behaved poorly in a bad situation. That does not mean that I am a bad person, and it doesn't mean it was for nothing. There is value in every poor decision, next time I'll be better prepared. There is absolutely no value in sitting around feeling bad about what I did.

I also think that, yes, it is undeniably an individual's responsibility to set his or her own boundaries. If you let other people set your boundaries I am positive you won't like where they set them.

It is a little surprising to me that an adult would be so naive as to be shocked by this behavior. Every single day I see good people in a situation to take advantage of somebody who has no boundaries and they do. The world isn't a pretty place. People aren't always capable of stepping outside the situation and analysing every angle before they act. Sometimes this leads to ugly behavior. It isn't good or bad. It's just the way things are.

I left myself open to your shitty comment and that was my fault. See, I am capable of taking responsibility for my actions.

I can be a dick

2011-10-19T23:53:00.000-05:00

I was just struck by how shitty I was to MP in our relationship. I laugh. I guess it isn't funny. I'm laughing because he thinks I'm controlling and "Type A" and whatever else. I think of my other relationships and laugh. "Type A", god, still laughing. How can a depressive be Type A? Ambition is the first word in the definition. I haven't worked in a year and I live with my mom. Clearly, ambitious. Aggressive? Impatient? I'll give him those. Business-like, controlling, highly-competitive, pre-occupied with his or her status, it just describes everything that I am so far from. I mean if this is Type A I would be Z, B is not far enough from it. When you think business professional you think- Lauren. It's your first thought, I know it is. Time-conscious? Yes, it has nothing to do with deadlines and everything to do with respect. It must have been hard for him to be in a relationship with a stranger. Shit, I've known strangers better.

To his credit, I was a dick. But to my own, he let me. Had I ever treated Kyle like that he would've left my ass so fast my head would have spun. He did once. I yelled at him. He pretty much left me on the spot. Well, after I got home from work he kicked me out. He took me back the next day, but boy, that draws a line in the sand. Needless to say it never happened again, the yelling, not the breaking up. Not that I'm a bad person, or that people who treat other people shitty are bad people, but sometimes when you respond shittily and the other person doesn't stop you, you drive it on home. Then the next time you push it a little further. This goes on until you have no more respect for the person and your shittiness stems from that.

The trick is you have to nip it in the bud the first go round. MP started getting a little bit of a backbone, but it was too late. Plus, I could tell his heart wasn't in it. I'm like I dog. I can smell fear.

2011-10-17T22:33:00.001-05:00

"All we care about is getting the outside clean. Each day we walk forth with clean clothes, clean hair, clean teeth, but with a mind stuffed with worthless anxieties, dull resentments, stale outlooks, toxic prejudices, and an endless array of shabby self-images. We haven't even bothered to sweep out the mental junk we picked up yesterday, not to speak of the debris we have been hauling around for a lifetime."

Hugh Prather
The Little Book of Letting Go

At night I take a painfully hot bath to soak away the ache of exercise and while I do, I read books on buddhism. What good is getting the outside into amazing shape if the inside is decayed.

Here is my prayer or mantra or whatever the fuck you want to call something I repeat in order to remember that I am not perfect or when I stray from the path of freedom and emptiness. When all I need is a little finesse to get back on the path I repeat, "Awakened heart, awakened mind". Breath in on the first phrase, out on the last.

Exercise is the perfect form of meditation. Especially if you pick something that you like that also takes focus. It empties your mind of everything. You don't even realize it. Sweeping out the junk is so amazing. It has left me with plenty of room for laughter.

For the record, I always like to keep my outside as shitty and cluttered as my inside feels, it's like an osmosis thing.

Great Weekend

2011-10-16T19:12:00.000-05:00

When you work your ass off throughout the week and you don't exercise on the weekends it feels like a vacation.

I hung out with a lot of my friends. I had a great Saturday with Kyle. He said I was really skinny and that my arms looked stronger. Then I flexed and he said "Holy shit." It makes me laugh. These short little muscles bulk up quickly.

I slept so much, which I needed to help recover from this week.

No alcohol this weekend which also helps with recovery.

I ate an entire 10" gluten free pizza by myself in one sitting. That had more to do with poor choices than good ones, but it was awesome.

I finished a couple of books.

Checked out some audiobooks from the library for my road trip to New Orleans next Monday. Betty White and Margaret Atwood. Interesting combo. Really excited to do some laughing and picture taking, my two favorite things. I'm also excited about 9 hours of quiet. I don't have to hear anybody talking if I don't want to. So excited to get away.

Guilty pleasure: golf. I know I don't look like a person who likes golf, but I do. I almost joined the golf team in high school. I have been told by golfers that I have a natural swing. I love all the gayest sports. Golfing, sculling, all that is left is softball. Sorry softball, can't get down with you. I'm naturally athletic but for some reason I try to fight it. Not fighting it anymore and it feels really good. Not really sure why I was fighting it all these years. I'm just so dumb, for real. I think it's the other people, jocks, not my people. Maybe they are now. I doubt it, but what the hell I'll give it a try.

words to live by

2011-10-15T22:12:00.002-05:00

"When you find yourself thinking, 'I need this, I want it, I can't live without it,' ask yourself if this is your insecurity demanding to be fed. And if you do feed it, see if it does you any good. Does it provide any relief, happiness, or breakthroughs in your mind? If not, why complicate your life?"

Dzigar Kongtrul
It's Up to You: The Practice of Self Reflection on the Buddhist Path

P.S. That names looks like a cat walked across the keyboard.

This week in exercise:

2011-10-14T23:32:00.000-05:00

Monday: 2 mile run. 20 min of strength training (arms)
Tuesday: 1 1/2 hours of rowing. 20 min of strength training (legs), 30 min bike ride (about 5 miles).
Wednesday: 1 hour of rowing. 20 min of strength training (arms), 1 mile run.
Thursday: 20 min strength training (legs) 30 min. bike ride.
Friday: 1 hour bootcamp, 1 hour rowing.

Accomplishing Goals:

I can already do 25 pushups. It isn't easy, but possible. Which before, doing 3 pushups (standard position, not knees on the floor) wasn't possible. Feel pretty fucking good about that one. It hasn't been two months yet. My arms look amazing. I can't wait until they look better. My favorite thing are my triceps. They are so bangin'. I love that they have definition.

Yesterday, when my muscles were really warm from working out, I was stretching and my nose comes within four fingers of my knees. When I stand up and lean over to touch my toes I can put my palms flat on the ground.

I started running, because it is really hard for me. I hate it so much. It is so boring and painful. But doing the thing that is hard for you is to train better. I don't want to do it, but I want to be in better physical condition.

In another 2 months I want to be able to do 20 pull ups. Right now, I can do 1 rep of 3 and 2 reps of 2 for a total of 7. It's a long way from 20, but I think I'm up for the challenge. I think it will be pretty impressive to see. It is also incredibly hard.

different

2011-10-13T18:46:00.000-05:00

All these years people have been telling me I need to be single. For what I'm not sure. Having been really single the past few months and being single, in that I had no emotional support, for almost a year before that, I really don't get it. What is so great about it. The fact that I have tons of time that would otherwise be sucked dry by just existing with another person is the only benefit I see. It is nice to be able to at least call someone up who is dedicated to listening to you. It's nice to have a person you can count on. I mean it's way better to be single than in a relationship that sucks a donkey dick, for sure. But being in a relationship that you like, with someone you like, doesn't squelch your independence at all, or your personal development. I think what squelches personal development while you are in a relationship is not being able to say, "Hey, I want to do something that you don't want to." Granted there is a slew of reasons this can and probably will happen at some point in a relationship, but all it takes is one argument to break that spell, usually.

Even so, of all the bullshit in life to smash you and your development a good relationship is hardly the thing to be worried about.

Waking up everyday and not doing anything different, drowning in a stagnant cesspool of routine is WAY worse. Constantly worrying about what you don't have, worse. Never enjoying yourself, worse. Trust me. I was there. Never taking time to take care of yourself is worse.

Treating yourself like shit, feeling like shit and expecting another person to treat you better than shit is confining, I can see that, but simply because it's ridiculous, not because it is the standard for a relationship. Or maybe it is, and I was day dreaming instead of listening to the shitty rules of life. If that is the case, I choose not to participate in those shitty rules.

Being on the other side and knowing how it feels. Oh. What a waste. What a huge fucking waste. To feel that bad and not be working every second to overcome was a waste. But I'm thankful for that waste of life, because I don't ever want to do that again. Now I am working every second to feel better. Working every second to clear my mind of the endless garbage that life litters in there. Working every second to make my body the perfectly tuned machine that it can be. Working to not be complacent. Working to thrill myself with new adventures. I don't see how a person interested in the same things could hinder that. A relationship doesn't have to be a stone that you drag around, it can be quite uplifting.

One more thing

2011-10-02T12:25:00.002-05:00

Then I swear I will stop talking about her, because I have to stop thinking about her. I have to.

It isn't the fact that she is staggeringly attractive, because she is. Her smile. Her laugh. Oh god. It hurts. But she really had me when we were at the bar and she made fun of fat people with this really disdainful look on her face. Like fat was the grossest thing in the entire world.

United in hate. The things relationships are made of.

Fantasyland

2011-10-01T22:49:00.000-05:00

I keep running into this woman that I find so breathtaking. I first ran into her at Ego's. I gave her my number, you remember. She never called. I ran into her again shortly after, but couldn't bring myself to talk to her. She makes me tremble when I see her. Last night I saw her again. I always realize she is in the bar that I'm in when I am having a really good time and smiling. I look up and there she is, radiant. Yeah, it's like that. The having fun and seeing her is probably the reason why I like her so much. Whatever the reason I am smitten. After the first two encounters I had written her off. Not that I didn't think about her every once in a while I was just content that it wasn't going to happen. Then last night happened. My friend brought her over to me. I talked to her, well yelled, as it where. Nobody talks in a gay dance club. She touched me. It felt so good to have her arms around me. I want it more. I made her laugh and I actually thought, "I want to make her laugh everyday." She was uncomfortable because she has a long distance girlfriend. I have an undying love for her and tell her so. As the night went on I could tell I was breaking her down (and probably the alcohol). She was doing the thing where she wouldn't look me directly in the eye especially if we were really close. The thing is I want her, badly. I don't want to break her and her girlfriend up because I want a real chance at a relationship with her. I don't want to be that person. I have outgrown that person. I am better than that person. Whats worse and more horrifying is that I want to tell her this. I want to tell her that I want to come home to her smile. Ugh. I can't stand myself. It's so gross. I can't stop thinking about her and I only know her first name. I have no way of contacting her. I can only hope that we run into each other again. I swear I can still smell her today, but there is no actual reason why I should be smelling her. When the high from all the touching wore off it was as if somebody forgot to build a bridge from fantasyland to reality and I fell into the abyss.

I'm consoling myself with lesbian cinema. I'm lost in Desert Hearts currently. I would like to eat fat food but it makes me sick. I would like to drink heavily but it makes me sick. I would like to smoke cigarettes but it makes me sick and it makes it hard to exercise. I have no more coping mechanisms..

I had a dream

2011-09-30T14:18:00.001-05:00

Damn, was it a doozie. At 2:30 in the morning I sent myself an email so I would remember.

This is the email, exactly:
Lion vomiting rats. treadmill
squash growing on terrace
living with mp, jonathan
bucket lookalike rat. balloon

The detailed version-
I was on a treadmill at the gym and watching tv. I think it was a news broadcast where they play a youtube video. This video was of a lion vomiting live rats. That's gross. Then I was at home. My neighbor had a store that sold antique type things having to do with monkeys. He had some of these rats that the lion vomited taxidermied and he said he was going to be very rich. It was no home I have ever lived in. It looked a lot like a restaurant. It had a really long patio that was stone, the front of the house was just flat. It had a 3 foot in diameter whole in the stone where I planted some squash. Then the plant as I watched grew to overtake the entire patio, but luckily it grew up and clung to the trellis and now the patio had complete shade. The light was coming through really nice and the squash flowers were everywhere. It was magical. Then MP came home, cause for some reason I was living with him. I tried to say something but he went past me into the house like he was ignoring me. I thought it was because he was now friends with one of Kyle's old friends, we'll call him Jonathan. Who I happen to not like because he gets on my nerves. When I looked at him as he was walking in the door he paused and glanced at me. His hair was longer, not long, just not shaved and he looked really old, and he didn't have a beard. I thought, "Oh well" and went on admiring this freshly sprung shade. Then. A rat (again with the rats, what in the hell does that mean) came onto the porch. It looked exactly like Bucket only with a long, skinny, hairless tail. I was kind of freaking out, because they were playing. I didn't want Bucket to catch something. So I open the door to only let Bucket in the house and the rat/Bucket look-a-like slides in behind him. The door opened into the kitchen and there was a red balloon on the floor. The rat then jumps on the balloon and is playing with it, but somehow not popping it. As that is happening I pick up the real Bucket (I think) and the rat Bucket loses his tail. Then I can't trust myself to know which is which and I think, What if I'm holding the rat! then I wake up.

Bras

2011-09-26T02:09:00.000-05:00

I went to Target to buy a cheap bra. While I was in the dressing room I realized that because of the two mirrors I could see myself straight on from behind. That is a very rare view only experienced from cameras. My ass looks totally different than the way I'm used to seeing it, from the side. It's like a whole different ass.

I spent some time in there with my shirt off just flexing my back. Not kidding. I flexed my back in the mirror. Over the years boyfriends have said I have a nice back. I do. They weren't lying. It was awesome seeing it cause it was like a stranger. There are a couple of reasons, one: I never get to see my back like that, two: I am more muscular than I have ever been.

Just Friday I was at the gym looking at women's backs, I guess really there shoulder blade areas, I couldn't see the rest of their backs. I was thinking that athletic women's backs are really nice. Turns out I have one of my own.

2011-09-15T13:01:00.000-05:00

Monday- Conditioning Kickboxing Class- One Hour (Ruthless asskicking)
Tuesday- Regular Kickboxing Class- One Hour
Wednesday-30 min bike ride in the morning, Conditioning Kickboxing Class plus Intermediate Kickboxing class back to back- 2 1/2 Hours (Extra Ruthless asskicking)
Thursday- Regular Kickboxing Class- One Hour - Brutal cause I was so tired from the day before

Friday???? Should I attend bootcamp? I don't think I can. I need a rest. I think I will take the day off.

Saturday and Sunday I will ride my bike and Monday I will be back at bootcamp.

July 17th I weighed 125 pounds, now I weigh 114. That is 11 pounds, my friends. That is about 10% of me. Eleven pounds of dead weight.

This massage therapist told me I should do something slow and relaxing to counter act all the active kickboxing I have been doing, yin yang shit. So I have taken to meditating in any line I stand in. It is really amazing. All I do it really focus on my body, my posture, keeping my spine alined. I just shut out the world and think about being aligned. In stead of wasting my life in lines I am looking at it as a way to better myself.

Do you hear the shit that is coming out of my mouth? Whoa.

Goal Updates 2 weeks

2011-09-14T16:04:00.000-05:00

Everything is getting so much easier. (Even not eating gluten.)

Granted my knuckles have no skin on them, I really like kickboxing.

I don't have to worry about not being rock hard in six weeks, because, well, I already am. My abs are solid. I'm seeing all sorts of new definition. I'm constantly inspired by my own progress.

I can do 10 regular pushups, up from one. Then 10 more on my knees.

And another one

2011-09-09T04:04:00.003-05:00

Me: Can you believe it? I have had no PMS this month. I haven't been raging mad once.
Tammy: [Thinks for a second] Sort of.
Me: I feel better. I didn't get a new personality.

[Laughing]

My favorite recent conversations about my body

2011-09-07T22:46:00.002-05:00

In car with my mom, I'm driving.
At a light, I hold my arm up. My elbow is bent and even with her eyes.
Me: Is there a bruise on the back of my arm?
Mom: No, but you do have a bump right there.
Me: [giving mom the are you kidding me look]
Mom: Is that your muscle?
Me: [Laughing] Yeah!

At kickboxing class, the instructor comes over and is showing us some blocks. She pretends to punch and I block with my forearm.
Instructor: Gah, somebody has boney arms.
Me: [Laughing] It's me!

(My forearms are bruised to shit because that part of my arm is so boney.)

Passively suicidal

2011-09-04T13:36:00.000-05:00

I'm done being passively suicidal. Don't act all affronted and pretend that the choices you are making aren't slowly killing you. Well, I am done with it. I'm done with not taking care of myself. I done with not exercising. I'm done with not eating right. It doesn't mean that I won't slip up, but that little slip up is a lot better than all the time.

I'm not only talking about my physical health. I'm putting a foot down on my mental health too. I am striving to be the most honest and genuine person I can be. I only want to be around people who are honest and genuine. I'm trying to put out what I want back. I only want to be around people who like me for me. And if I change they will have to learn to love that person too. I'm making a conscience effort to be deliberate. I want to spend time with people I can be myself around. And if I find that is not the case I will discard that person from my life like a sack of dog poo, with a pinched nose and then a sigh of relief and a breath of fresh air.

Fitness

2011-08-30T14:42:00.000-05:00

Give me an "F'. Give me an "I". Just finish that off by yourself you know how to spell it.

Kickboxing. I started on the 23rd with a 30 minute class. I have done two hour classes now. I have to say, it is torture. I love it.

Not only will I be going to two hour long kickboxing classes this week, I will also being attending a 6am bootcamp.

Fit is about to be my middle name. If I'm not hard as a rock in 6 weeks I am never exercising again.

My goals:

6 weeks- Be able to outrun most anyone, backwards
2 months- 25 pushups, be able to touch my nose to my knees
3 months- wallow in all that goal accomplishment
6 months- Gain 7 pounds of muscle

I have spent the last year in a pit of self loathing and misery. I will spend this year looking and feeling amazing.

On being sick

2011-08-22T05:16:00.000-05:00

I wasn't realizing just how tired I was. All this time I, and everyone I know, thought that I was mentally ill, turns out I was physically ill. I have a gluten intolerance. I was not absorbing nutrients from my food. I was sleeping 9 hours a night, minimum. Plus a nap. Everyday. And everyday I was so tired. I could barely function. I would try to stay awake as long as possible and when my head hit the pillow that was it. No thinking, no nothing, it was like a switch flipped and I was asleep. I slept less that 6 hours last night and feel rested. OH. GOD. THE FEELING. I am not used to it. It wasn't good sleep either. This used to happen to me all the time. I used to be a bad sleeper at one time in my life. It used to take me hours to fall asleep. I would wake up in the middle of the night and go watch tv. My brain will not turn off. I have forgotten all my brain quieting techniques. I need to eat some gluten to get some rest apparently. And the dehydration. That bit about your pee being clear so you know you're hydrated. Lies. My pee was crystal clear. I was always two skips from dehydration at any given time. I drank alcohol the other night. A lot for me. I had 2 mixed drinks plus 2 shots of whiskey in 4 hours with only one and a half glasses of water. I was not dizzy. Repeat, I was not dizzy. Not only that, I did not feel as if I had been beat with a stick. My muscles were not sore at all. I didn't not have a horrible headache by the time I was going to sleep. Nothing. It was amazing.

And the feelings. Oh. God. The feelings. I am having actual, honest to god, feelings. Good ones. Not just shitty ones. Excitement. I can't tell you how long it has been since I have felt excitement. Because I don't know. I was living off experience and trying to participate in feelings through the old Lauren and facial expressions without ever feeling anything. I was starting to get real discouraged about life. I thought maybe I was changing forever. I didn't like anything that I once did. Or it didn't make me feel the way it once did. Turns out all feelings were gone. I think I have read one, maybe two books this entire year. I was getting so discouraged with myself. Now, when I read it is like I am on fire. I can finish a book. And I enjoy it again. My brain doesn't feel like it is overheating and needs to shut down. Just thinking about reading all day is a lovely thought again, as it once was, as opposed to the oppressive fatigue I would feel just thinking about it. All I could do was turn on some tv noise and stare. I was making stupid mistakes. For example, holding two things like milk and a glass put the milk in the cabinet and the glass in the fridge type shit. It was so frustrating. I would spill things constantly, break things, I was so clumsy. That is not my style. Sure those things happen every once in a while. All the time?

I don't know what's what. Is it all my diet? Is my mental health starting to turn the corner otherwise? Am I feeling good because a confluence of things or just my diet? Either way, I feel 20 again, and not like a 60 year old lady.

Loser Alert

2011-08-21T10:14:00.000-05:00

I laugh at my own jokes.

Sometimes, when no one is around. Maybe it is something I just thought up, maybe I said it days, weeks, or even months ago.

Jessica commented the other evening about how something I said will make her laugh much much later. When she said that, I was reminded of something that I laughed at for a really long time, but couldn't remember the joke.

This morning in the shower I remembered-
The two of us had gone to Double Dave's. I had pigged out on pepperoni rolls. They are so good and I would like to eat about 25 right now. The point of the story is this. After we ate I couldn't leave without pooping. Dire. When I walked out of the bathroom I gave Jessica the "Oh, damn. That shit was crazy" look. She said, "Did you have a lunch baby?" My response, "I had a lunch miscarriage." Oh god. It's so funny. It works with "lunch abortion" too. I guess technically that would be what a bulimic does.

While I'm laughing at my own joke I then realized. HELLO! RED FLAG! Emergency shitting after gorging on gluten. Ugh. Lauren. You are a huge loser.

I am ready

2011-08-17T11:36:00.000-05:00

I am ready to move from this soul sucking house. I am ready to feel good again. I am ready to get away from a person who is constantly lying to me. I ready to get away from a person who is constantly trying to tell me something is wrong with me and I should fix it.

Nothing is wrong with me. I feel like shit. What is wrong with that? Should we tally the past year?

My house was broken into.
The thing I most cared about in the world was sick for months, I had to make a decision to kill him. Then watched as the vet killed him and he died in my arms.
I have moved umpteen times last summer, and am on the road to a few more moves. It's stressful.
I have broken up with my "boyfriend" repeatedly, yet continued to live with him in an incredible uncomfortable situation of confusion and misery.
My grandfather died. And I never knew him and now it is too late.
My Aunt died. The week after I saw her lively and taking care of people. The week after I was feeling guilty for losing touch. Now it is too late.
To top it off, constantly feeling like I have no control over any part of my life.

What is so bad about feeling lost? What is so bad about feeling like I can't get a grip on life? I'm hurting. I refuse to hide it. I am working through it the best I know how. Am I doing a good job, probably not. Should I be expected to shoulder all of this in a mere 365 days, when this is a lifetime of bad shit, and not go a little crazy?

Egos

2011-08-13T01:28:00.001-05:00

A friend of a friend posted on facebook that he was bar tending at a bar that my grandfather used to frequent. I have a picture of myself in this bar close to twenty years ago. I told myself, I don't have anybody to go with so why don't I just go alone? I did. In the parking lot all these memories were washing over me and giving me chills. I go in and immediately I ran into someone I used to work with, who now works at a succulent nursery. Cha-ching. I order a drink from my bartender friend. I say I want vodka. He says fancy or plain. I say not too sweet. He gives me vodka, soda and grapefruit. That is pretty much my grandfather's drink, only with gin. Eerie. One of my friends ended up coming out with me and we had a really great time. My friend encouraged me to hit on the woman of my dreams. I ended up giving her my number. I might think that was a stupid move in the morning. I definitely won't if she calls me. Holy shit, if she would only call me.

All in all, go out somewhere new (ish) alone. It will all work out. You will have fun. Yes, I'm talking to you, Lauren.

Looking back

2011-08-12T11:32:00.000-05:00

If I had my life to do over again I would make the same mistakes, they were fun.

I'm really thankful for the fact that when I was falling in love with people in my past (or lust or whatever that feeling is) I went with it. I fell in heart first. It is a wonderful feeling. I'm afraid I can't feel that anymore. I'm too closed, too jaded, to old. Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe this is just a phase. But I can't tell the future, and there is no way for me to know. And it if it were to never happen again I'm glad I experienced those feelings so completely. I didn't hide. I was completely me. I let my guts pour out of my heart like I didn't have a care in the world. Maybe it is a foolish way to behave, but it is also beautiful. It's the stuff that brilliant lives are made of. Fear makes a person dull.

Reoccuring Nightmares

2011-08-06T12:02:00.000-05:00

No, this isn't a metaphor for my relationships.

I woke up very traumatized from a bad dream where an old man chased me out of an old farmhouse, down a dusty drive way and up a tree. He had been beating me with what looked to be the handle of an ax. I somehow managed to get away and run and climb the only tree around. It was a huge oak. The old man was screaming at me to come down with a southern accent when I woke up.

I was pretty upset and I couldn't relax. Then I remembered a dream I had previously. It was the only thing that calmed me down. The same house, the same dusty driveway, the same tree, but the previous dream was a crime scene. Everything was taped off, police everywhere and the dead body of an old man. It was very graphic, very bloody and I was being questioned. Naturally, the cops were wondering why I killed him. The idea that this guy was dead even if it was just a dream was comforting.

Then I fell back asleep.

Relationships

2011-08-05T21:01:00.000-05:00

Relationships are hard.

I don't have the first fucking clue about how to be in a healthy relationship.

I do know that I'm sick of worrying about some else all the time. I'm sick of altering my life to ensure someone Else's comfort. I'm sick of changing. I'm sick of talking and not being heard. I'm sick of mothering a person who also wants to fuck me. That's twisted.

I know I don't want to look back and wish I had all the time I wasted back. Life is too short. I refuse to waste my time on people who aren't contributing to the greatness that life can be. I refuse to waste my time on people who are only dragging me down.

I don't want to be constantly resentful.

I don't know why I have expectations that a person who wants to fuck me would also want me to be happy. It's weird. But I do. I don't know why I have expectations that a person who wants to fuck me would also respect me enough to observe my boundaries, to treat me like a human instead of a glory hole, to listen, to understand (and if they can't understand at least remember that something they are doing is insulting and hurtful when I clearly state that something they are doing is insulting and hurtful and not do it anymore). It's outrageous and I'm the only one in the world who feels like this, I know. But these are the things I'm dealing with.

I will not be blamed. There are TWO people in a relationship and it will ALWAYS be those TWO people's fault if it isn't working. Not just one.

Maybe I am a crazy, overreacting, bitch. However, it seems that when I'm not constantly needled by a childish, egotistical, oblivious, socially retarded, lying, cowardly fucktard I stay on a pretty even keel. There is just something about those combination of traits that drive me up the fucking wall. Call me crazy. Don't bother. I'll do it. I'm crazy.

Please remind me of this the next time I become involved with someone. Wait, you don't have to. It is all I can think about in all social situations that could possibly lead to romantic involvement. You can guarantee I won't be romantically involved very soon.

I never want to be jaded and bitter either.

Nightmares

2011-08-02T10:00:00.000-05:00

I read this book by Anne Lamott, who I really like, called Traveling Mercies. It is non-fiction, autobiographical, whatever you want to call it. Well, towards the end of the book is a disturbing story about dog abuse that she witnessed at a park. It took me days to stop thinking about it. Now, I have nightmares about people abusing their dog. In the nightmare I had last night I was fighting someone because of it. I took his dog, a big dog, handed the leash to someone else and in order to keep this very tall man from getting to his dog I jumped on him and started hitting him about the face and head. That went on until I woke up.

It's hard to live in my head.

Exercise 'n' shit

2011-07-28T22:25:00.000-05:00

My first week of weight loss competition I lost 3 pounds. My waist is also 2" smaller. I might add that I'm almost half way to 7 in just one week.

Half way through the second week, it is so much easier. I'm not as hungry. I'm not having as many wild ass cravings for things I don't usually eat. I am, however, jonesing pretty hard for a hot dog. Saturday is hot dog reward day. I think about it often. Rather than wanting to cry because I can't have something I have been planning out my rewards on Saturdays. This Saturday hot dog, next Saturday Schlotzky's, Saturday after that pizza, so on and so forth. I find it comforting.

Detox week

2011-07-21T22:06:00.000-05:00

So, first week of eating healthy. It really sucks a huge fat dick. I have really been staying strong. I have been exercising twice a day (except today, I only worked out one time). Tomorrow is my day off. I'm excited. Really excited. The eating healthy has been much much harder. I had a headache from Sunday to Tuesday. Tuesday night it was so bad that for an hour in the evening before my ibuprofen started working I thought I would vomit. Since then I have been having cravings. Weird cravings that I n.e.v.e.r. have. The last time I had a donut might have been a year ago. I am craving donuts. And sugar of all kinds. Pie. Cinnamon rolls. Chocolate. Who fucking cares, I'll eat it. My hunger is tripled by the fact that a. I'm exercising alot, b. I'm on my period, c. my caloric intake has been reduced significantly just based on the amount of fast food I'm not eating, that I'm desperate to eat anything. I know I am eating plenty of food, but at any time I could go eat a meal at Whataburger. Food is for energy. Not for soothing myself. I have to stay strong. If I don't fold by then, which I don't think I will, I am going to eat a junior meal on Sunday. I can't wait. I'm living for Sunday right now. I'm on the day of detox when I'm starting to think fuck it, life isn't worth it. That is not true. Healthy food is perfectly fine. It tastes good. Why can't that be good enough. I can do this. I am stronger than my cravings.

Weight loss... or something similar

2011-07-18T21:50:00.000-05:00

My friend and I made a little wager. We are putting $50 on the line to see who can lose 7 pounds first. Not that 7 pounds less Lauren is my goal weight or anything, that would make me 118 pounds. However, I needed some motivation to eat right and exercise. I have exercise goals I want to meet, but I was having a hell of a time getting back to the gym after almost a month off.

Things I'm doing to look like this:

Eating healthy. Lean meats, eggs, lots of protein, vegetables, fruits, we all know what healthy food is.
Exercising twice a day for at least 30 minutes. I find I get a better workout if I split it up, instead of the last 30 minutes being shitty.
Writing down everything that I eat. I think this will make me accountable. I'm not really sure if it will work. And if nothing changes I will have an easy way to make diet changes.

Day 1 was very successful. I'm already getting sore though. Hopefully I can keep up the exercise.

Say Anything

2011-07-09T22:00:00.000-05:00

I'm so glad I have people in my life that I can say anything to. (Or to whom I can say anything, if you want to get all cunty about your prepositions.) I'm a pretty weird kid. Last night, me and a few friends spent the night a little tipsy and yelling out "fish" in an old man voice with a country accent. Yeah, I'm that weird. I find it totally acceptable, and by acceptable I mean hilarious, to yell out words repeatedly throughout the evening if the joke was funny the first time. And by hilarious I actually mean hilarious, I'm not talking hyperbole here. I'm talking laughing until you cry, laughing so hard you can't yell the word out again because you can't get enough air into your lungs. I have come to realize that other people think that is funny too if they too have done a few drugs in their lifetime.

One person to whom I can say anything, Kyle and I have long, long running jokes. For years we have been running these jokes into the ground. That song about walking 500 miles for you, well, one day one of us (it was so many years ago now I don't remember which one of us, but it was most likely Kyle) sang the song with the lyrics "I would punch 500 cats for you." I even remember that we were walking in the park. I remember because I was laughing so hard and it was really quiet and green. The park is a lovely place to laugh. I had a bad week this week and out of the blue I got a text that said "I would punch 500 cats for you if you built something to hold them." Still funny after all these years. (I'm hearing a Paul Simon song in my head right now. Apt.)

Sometimes I wonder if a person with a lot of authority in the field watched these interactions would they consider me, and I'll use the medical term, batshit crazy?

Back to the original point, even if a doctor would confirm I'm certifiable, my friends don't. Or at least they laugh with me. And they don't even blink when I yell out "beans", or "fish", or collapse into fits of laughter about a gallon jug of lube when it has been days since I have even seen said jug.

2011-07-06T14:35:00.002-05:00

And suddenly every mistake I have ever made is illuminated so bright I think I might go blind.

San Francisco

2011-06-29T22:18:00.000-05:00

From Thursday to Monday I was completely happy. A kind of happy that I haven't felt in years, literally. It was so good. So fucking good. It was like a hot shower after a week of not showering. It was like sleeping in your own bed after months away from home.

I cannot remember the last time I was that tired

2011-06-20T09:48:00.000-05:00

Saturday the air conditioning went out. Since the high that day was 104 you can imagine it was pretty miserable. The house cooled down at about 1 in the morning. I was asleep by 1:30. I woke up at 5:30 when the wind blew the mini-blinds out of the window sill with a clunking noise. There was no sleeping after that. Didn't matter, I had to be up at 6 anyway. Bucket and I drove 40 minutes to my dad's place to meet my brothers so we could go sailing for Father's day. From about 8:30-2:30 I was in the sun. The winds were crazy. There was no relaxing. Between making sure Bucket stayed in the boat, and making sure I stayed in the boat, the majority of my muscles were tensed the whole time. We left the lake, but food wasn't ready until 5. Then I ate until I couldn't force anymore food down my face. When drove 40 minutes back to my house I took a shower and watched Louis C.K. standup in bed. I was laughing so hard I was crying. I was asleep by 10. I sleep with a pillow over my head. When I put it on I would have sworn that I could hear a dishwasher running. My bed is about as far from any kind of appliance that washes things as it can be. So I lifted the pillow up a tiny bit and all I heard was the fan. Apparently, I was hearing things. I slept until 8am. Bucket is still sleeping. I'm still tired. I'm pretty sure I won't stray very far from bed today.

Depression

2011-06-18T11:35:00.000-05:00

I'm depressed. It is no secret. I am very unhappy. I need so much to change. I just can't quiet figure out what it is. Where am I going? Fuck, who am I? I can't get it together. Crying is not the answer, but that is all I can do. I'm trapped inside my own head. All I want to do is escape, but I keep getting captured and dragged back to prison. I'm screaming the whole way, but nobody seems to hear. It's like a horror movie in my head everyday.

If I can bring myself to focus it takes everything I have. I'm so exhausted afterwards.

The past few days I have felt a weird disconnect. I'm having a hard time deciding if this is reality. It must be, but something doesn't feel right about it.

Said the acupuncturist to the Lauren

2011-06-16T19:22:00.002-05:00

"You have really great muscle base, only all of it happens to be balled up in your shoulders right now."

Just so you know, I'm a tiny powerhouse.

A few days ago.

2011-06-13T15:32:00.000-05:00

I recently bought a colorsplash color flash. It takes one AA battery. I kept forgetting to get some batteries at the store. I was rummaging though something and found one AA battery. I was walking around the house with it and lost it. I couldn't not remember for the life of me where I put the damn thing. Where could it have possibly gone.

I found it. This is the window sill behind my bed, right above where my head is. Usually I am facing the other way. Today I set my drink on the window sill and found the battery. There is was with a pug hair on it. Ridiculous.

Birthday Wishes:

2011-06-06T18:36:00.000-05:00

This list is for myself, of things I will explore, do, buy, etc. this year.

Writers: William Burroughs Jr., J.G. Ballard, Hubert Selby Jr., Bukowski, Donald Goines, John Waters
Write in a journal. Hand written words. When I go back and read things I write on paper it inspires me, like I have something living inside me that peeks out occasionally and it whispers, "You're great".
I want to study saints, their story, the typical religious art of that saint, the iconography, the meaning that evolved from their story. This intrigues me and I have ideas of transposing modern figures into this imagery: The Patron Saints of Lauren.
There used to be a door in mind that was wide fucking open to life. Now that door is padlocked. I'm getting the bolt cutters. Fuck it. I'm gonna blow the god damn door down with a shotgun. Whatever it takes. I need that openness and curiosity about life again.
Explore Jung.
Find woman writers that move me the way Atwood moves me.
Read the books I have in my house. I'm gonna try 2 a month. If that is too few. 4 a month. If 2 is too many than I shouldn't be allowed to breath anymore.
I'm going to try to be the healthiest Lauren I can be, mentally. I think that involves wading in the shit of life. That sounds weird, I know. But the more I read about other's struggles the more I realize that something beautiful can come of troubled times.
Create an art journal. I need a fucking outlet. Between writing and creating something, even if it is so terrible I never want anybody to see it, this should lance the boil that is my mental anguish.
I let my body stagnate for so long, too long. When I started exercising I felt better. I will attempt to do that with my mind. I need to stir the soup in my head so the black mold doesn't grow quite as thick.

Night at the Club

2011-06-05T02:07:00.000-05:00

A friend and I went to a gay bar together. It's like 10pm and E.M.P.T.Y. Outside bar has THE hottest bartender I have ever seen in my life. Holy christ. He gives us a free drink, kinda on the sly. So, I'm thinking he is straight. First, he thought that me and my friend are sisters. I guess when we told him no that he thought that meant we were gay together. A few drinks later I went inside, wrote my number on a napkin. When we went to get some water I gave him my number. He was so flustered. It was really cute. His hands were shaking. He couldn't look at me. I kinda felt bad. We were really upsetting him. Then we went inside and danced and I practically got molested by a lady. It was awesome. We parked next to The Capitol. So we took our shoes off and walked in the perfectly manicured lawn and laid in the grass. It was magical. There were a lot of shooting stars, or maybe I was drunk. Who cares. It was good.

You know

2011-06-02T17:56:00.000-05:00

You know that moment when you are taking a shit where you don't remember eating anything spicy, but are regretting it. That is a metaphor for my life.

2011-05-28T09:39:00.000-05:00

It's hard standing all alone in a fucking tornado. It's only right I should get tired. Sometimes I have to crawl. All I have ever wanted is to feel like I have somebody I can lean on. I am an utter failure. The best I can muster is co-dependency.

2011-05-27T14:52:00.000-05:00

When I was a kid I knew so many troubled adults. They have a certain look, the troubled. Their glassy eyed stare begs, "Will this get any better?" I watched, confused. Wondering what would cause a person to look so desperate. I wanted to know, but I was terrified. I always thought the world was an unforgiving place. It was proven to me time and again by the rubble that was people's lives. I look at myself in the mirror and see that same look, sad and desperate. My last match burned out. It's just me and the cave now. I found myself crying today for no reason. I heard myself making noises. I wondered where I went. This new person has a different voice and she makes noises that I have never heard before. Gasps for breath. Life is sitting on my chest and she is a fat bitch.

I wish I could explain to someone how much I hurt.

There is something you should know about me

2011-05-25T23:48:00.000-05:00

I love Cher's Dark Lady album. I listen to it and dance around my house and sing into things, whatever is handy. Lacking something phallic, I sing into the empty space in my hand where a microphone would be.

And...

I tend to keep things that are really hurtful and needling all to myself if I care about you. Turns out, when I'm pushed to my limit and I absolutely don't give a shit if you hurt or not I fucking let them rip. Boy, but when the damn breaks it's like Katrina up in there. Shit gets ruined. I stop holding back. If you happen to be made of a rock like substance, you can recover and it turns out we can be friends again. Lord knows I said some fucking hateful things. 7 years of anger and absolutely not see each other. In the end, it worked out. Nobody forgets. Once the words are out of your mind and in the world. It gets brought up. Fair enough. But fuck it. I didn't asked to be pushed to the limit, and then over the fucking edge. I crack like an egg and only black oozes out, festering death.

At last, catharsis.

Oh that train of thought runnin' right on time
But it's off the track and I'm losing my mind
'Cause the way you used me
Gonna drive me insane honey
For God's sake stop the train

trend

2011-05-25T10:12:00.000-05:00

If you are dating someone and they tell you that they have had a "crazy" girlfriend/boyfriend, run. You can probably put money on the fact that the person you are talking to did something to make them "crazy".

Somedays

2011-05-23T22:53:00.000-05:00

I get so tired of life.

Every night I go to bed hoping I'll wake up normal. I hope that I'll open my eyes and all of a sudden all the mundane bullshit that gets other people threw one more day works for me.

Not me. I cry at the fucking gym. And why not? Because the guy who is replacing the flat screens and ogling me might judge me. What the fuck kind of view could he have had from up there anyway?

I'm sick of me. I'm sick of you. I'm sick. Somebody just put a pillow over my head.

The day the drinks didn't make me drunk

2011-05-16T18:47:00.000-05:00

Sunday, I woke up angry.

At 2 in the afternoon I went to a friend's to hang out and vent. Took a shot of vodka. Dripping Springs it was good shit. Orange juice chaser. It took the edge right off.

6pm: Went to a friends pool party for his birthday. Had three margaritas. Not really even buzzed. Though, quote of the pool party-
Me to my friend whose first language is not English: This margarita is making me feel all warm inside.
Friend: Is that a good thing or a bad thing?
...A second of silence...
Friend: Or does that mean you're horny?
Me: No. Not that inside.
Both crack up.

11:30pm Took my mom to a drag show. It was her mother's day gift. Had two gin and tonics. It was a lot of fun. Before the show started we saw a man in ultra hipster attire do two back handsprings onto the dance floor to start dancing. When the show started at 12:30 I was done drinking. This queen did a number where she came out lip syncing to Mariah Carey's song "Hero". In case you are like me, and haven't heard the song in almost 2 decades the important lyrics are "Then a hero comes a long with the strength to carry on... blah blah...When you feel like hope is gone look inside you and be strong. You will finally see the truth that a hero lies in you." This bitch sits down on the stage, pulls a gyro from Jimmy John's out of her bra and proceeds to eat it. Holy shit did I laugh. The dance floor is in the middle of the club and everybody stands around it to watch the show. I could clearly see the people on the other side of the dance floor. People tip the performers. So you see everyone holding out their dollar bills, trying to get the lady's attention. On the last number this guy from the audience on the opposite side of the dance floor was trying to get the performer's attention. He is waving around like a maniac so my eyes are drawn to him. As I watch, he pulls his dick out of the bottom of his cut off jean shorts. Whole head sticking out of them. Waves the girl over, but she won't even get close. He yells something and it's a damn shame I can't read lips. She moved on quickly. At about 1:30am we are driving home and my mom says they must have the smallest penises in the world to be able to wear a tiny g-string and dance around. I replied that it was soft and probably stretched in between their legs and then taped. She says, "Ok, let me think about that....(second of silence)... Ok I don't think I want to think about that right now." I laughed so hard I cried. It was a good thing we were at a stop light. I would have had to pull the car over.

It was a good day.

Today, however, I was left with a headache that would not quit. I could not seem to hydrate. It's almost seven and I am only starting to feel better.

Here is a fun story

2011-05-13T21:46:00.000-05:00

My mom has a lot of memorabilia from my childhood. I happen upon things now and then. When I do, I usually tell her, "Hey, don't get rid of [that]".

In my old room, there was a shelf on the wall. On the shelf, was a collection of antique perfume bottles. I collected them when I hung out at my great aunt's antique shop. Some she would give me, some I would pay for. I loved them. A fancy container for liquid that smells like flowers. Weird. The ritual, the femininity, the uniqueness. Fascinating. The day after her funeral I told my mom, "You know you can never get rid of these, right?" She said that she knew.

Two weeks later, I went into my old room and the shelf had fallen off the wall. You can imagine what happened to the perfume bottles. The shelf had been up for easy four years. There was absolutely no reason for that shelf to fall. They aren't all gone, just the few that were my favorite.

It would almost be funny if it wasn't so cruel.

Fun with conversations:

2011-05-10T11:54:00.000-05:00

[My dad's girlfriend watching me put a barely adequate amount of mustard on a hot dog, which apparently seems like a lot to other people]
Girlfriend: Man, [laughing] has she always been like that?
My dad: Weird? Yeah.

That makes me laugh.

2011-04-30T23:31:00.001-05:00

Sometimes I look at a boy and am boggled by the way I am so utterly attracted and disgusted at the same time. Those feelings in the same moment, brought about by the same person, it defies the laws of physics or something. I'm convinced that men have no humanity. It's my fault. Honestly, I have some expectation that some man, somewhere in my life, will learn to observe a situation and then respond accordingly in a way that suits me. Fuck, that suits anyone besides themselves. Sure, men have said things I wanted to hear, when they want to get laid. And then everything they ever said evaporates slowly like water from my glass on a hot summer day, and just when I really need a drink I look down and find it empty. Totally fucking empty. Like their heads. Surely I will meet a man in my lifetime that doesn't consider me only a cum receptacle. Or worse yet, some fucking puzzle to be pawed at and toyed with until he unlocks the treat in the center. I am the source of my own unhappiness. I should let go of these impossible ideas. The idea that somewhere out there there is a man who understands something about women, it's silly. I'm not asking for a miracle, just a person who is clued into a few things. Maybe even listens to me when I talk. I know I'm not the only one. I see it all the time. Men with the patience and maturity of a 7 year old pouting and stomping off when they aren't being paid enough attention, or their ego has been damaged in some other minute way. Why are women always saddled with the reputation of being over reactors. This all comes to me in a flash when I'm attracted to someone I don't know. My little flicker of hope is blown out immediately by the tornado of last times.

Operation: Get Healthy

2011-04-25T12:05:00.000-05:00

I know I have said that before, but I had a few set backs.

So, here I go again... on my own. Going down the only road I've ever known? Like a drifter I was born to walk alone. I'm getting off task.

I joined a gym. 10 dollars a month. Totally affordable. Of course, I didn't actually work out today. I have bad cramps. I'm not sure I can handle working out too. Instead I went to the grocery store. I need food in my house. I need to eat vegetables. I bought salad materials, and found a recipe for Mustard Vinaigrette. Can't lie, kind of excited to try that. I think it may change my life.

I WANT!

2011-04-07T10:19:00.001-05:00

I want Nina Flowers and Raven to make a sandwich out of me. I'll be their MEAT!!!

Raven

Nina Flowers

More conversations:

2011-04-06T16:17:00.000-05:00

Kyle (in all seriousness): Do you know there are people in the world who actually care what people think of them?
Me (also serious): I! know! It is so! weird! I understand caring a little, but to actually rearrange your life is just unfathomable. It seems like it would make your life so much harder."
Kyle: I know, and I don't really see how it could get much harder, add all that unnecessary anxiety.
Me: Crazy
Kyle: Yeah

Trannies and Vomit

2011-04-06T10:21:00.001-05:00

I was having a RuPaul's Drag Race marathon last night. (You can watch full episodes at logo.com) I love those queers. Their crazy costumes kinda make me want to put on girl drag, you know, wear mascara. In the middle of the marathon, Bucket comes running in with something that doesn't look like he should be eating. I made him spit it out. I thought it was wood, but then I smelled it. It smelled distinctly fungal. About one episode later he was puking all over the house. As I was cleaning one vomit up he would go somewhere else and vomit. For such a little dog you would not believe the volume his stomach can hold. Then I called Am/Pm Animal hospital and the guy was a total fucktard. I asked how much is too much vomiting. He said, "Well, if he vomited more than once I would be concerned." Um, no. I don't go to the emergency room when I vomit twice. That is absolutely ridiculous. His tone said I was a terrible person. Turns out, Bucket vomited everything out and then he was fine. That is what vomiting is for, the body's eject button. I called another animal hospital and they told me what to look for, cause for concern and when to bring him in. I didn't have to and everything is fine.

2011-03-30T20:52:00.000-05:00

This week I have been passing out between 5 and 6 in the afternoon. I come to at dusk wondering if it is morning or evening. For the rest of the night I'm disoriented and a bit out of it.

I read a book. I bought it on Tuesday. It is called The Fuck-Up. It spoke to me.

Things that happen

2011-03-27T21:47:00.000-05:00

In The Home Depot with Jessica and her one year old. Jessica is checking out some plants. I'm chasing baby. I am following her and I started singing the song on the pa system. Right as I sing, "Show me how you do that trick, the one that makes me scream she said." A raging hipster walks by me, gives me the look, and he says with one eyebrow up, "That's a good song". Smirk and a head shake, two bits.

Officially :

2011-03-22T19:15:00.002-05:00

Going to San Francisco on MY BIRTHDAY, fools!

What! What!

Photoshop

2011-03-20T20:39:00.000-05:00

I watched this video on some blog. I realize that altering every single photo is an unfair advantage to celebrities. It may even effect some people's ideal of beauty and how they look at themselves. But maybe those people need to take a deep breath and live in the real world and not in a magazine. I'm thin. I'm not perfect. I have cellulite. But you know what, never once has a man, or woman, said to me, "You know you should really do something about this." In real life, people are happy to get laid. In real life, people aren't as shallow as you think they are. Can we all just get over it and start living? If a person is attracted to your body type with your clothes on, chances are they won't be surprised when he or she gets them off. Let's not think too much about it. Let's just fuck and be happy.

PMS test

2011-03-15T16:08:00.001-05:00

How do you know if you have PMS?

When someone takes the parking spot you wanted and you immediately fantasize about going up to them and asking, "You won't be stealing too many parking spots with four flat tires, will you?"

When you look in the fridge and see the bottle of worcestershire sauce and want to drink it.

Yeah. It's ugly. Thank god for my incredible will power.

Good god

2011-03-12T00:44:00.000-06:00

What will I do next?

I'm going to try to sleep some sense into me. Hasn't worked yet, but you never know.

Considering :

2011-03-06T21:04:00.002-06:00

The possibility of going to San Francisco on gay pride weekend, also known as My Birthday weekend!

Conversations from real life....

2011-03-01T19:42:00.000-06:00

My mother: What chance does [Lauren] have in relationships? She has me as a mother and her dad as a father.

Me: I'm going on a pms diet.
Kyle: Oh, yeah? What does that entail?
Lauren: Fruits, vegetables, no animal fats, blah, blah, blah.
Kyle: What about hotdogs!?
Lauren: [shakes head while frowning]
Kyle: [astonished look] Somebody is just going to have to pay the price. You are just going to have to be mean. You can't give up Hotdogs!

Drum Roll Please...

2011-02-28T18:12:00.000-06:00

And Bucket has mange. (Don't worry your little pug, she wouldn't get it unless she had a compromised immune system.) Since he is a puppy and recently went through surgery stress the little fucking bastard mites got there hooks in.

I guess it could be worse. It could itch. Then again, it could not go away and be an ongoing thing. So I won't count my chickens.

Just for a little salt in my wound, I found out today that a TOTAL fuck up, an absolutely, unquestionably terrible person is working in a drug rehab center in Hawaii. Shit never sticks to him and his life just keeps getting better. He must have been a saint in another life. I, on the other hand, look up just in time to get shit in my eye.

The love of my life

2011-02-27T21:41:00.000-06:00

Brian Kinney is the the love of my life. He is beautiful and rich and expects nothing. We have a few obstacles to overcome. The first is that he is an extremely promiscuous homosexual, which I could totally deal with. The other is that he is fictional. That one is a little harder to overcome. I will settle for Gale Harold. If I can't have the real Brian Kinney, I'll settle for his body.

Here are some of my favorite Brian Kinney-isms:

"I don't want to be with someone who sacrificed their life and called it love... to be with me. "

Melanie (lesbian): You finally grew a heart.
Brian: Maybe you'll have the same luck growing a penis.

[about their first night at Babylon, so many years ago]
Brian: I thought I looked pretty hot.
Michael: You did look pretty hot... That night I jerked off thinking about you.
Brian: Well, whaddya know. I jerked off thinking about me, too.

"Whether we see each other next week, next month, never again, it doesn't matter. It's only time."

As you can see from this next quote, we have A LOT in common.

Detective Carl Horvath: You were right.
Brian Kinney: My three favourite words after 'nine inches cut'.

And this one too for that matter.

Brian Kinney: I don't believe in love; I believe in fucking. It's honest, it's efficient. You get in and out with the maximum of pleasure and minimum of bullshit. Love is something straight people tell themselves they're in so they can get laid, and then they end up hurting each other because it was all based on lies to begin with.

It's like that show on MTV only the opposite

2011-02-25T23:50:00.000-06:00

Worst Week Ever. I have been thinking really hard about it. This may have been the actual worst week of my life. So far. Which is terrifying. So Far. The idea that out there in my future is a worse week. I have no doubt it is out there waiting. I just kept getting kicked when I was down. If I didn't know better I would swear I have internal bleeding and bruised organs. I have gone two days without vomiting, but as I sit here alone I'm starting to feel nauseous again. I need to cry, but nothing is making it happen. My hands are shaking. I guess now it is just a waiting game, what will happen first tears or puke.

Is there some kind of cosmic misalignment? I need to do some research. I need an answer to the question, "Why am I at the bottom of the hill, and where the fuck is all this shit coming from?"

2011-02-24T18:35:00.000-06:00

When I was a kid I would go with my dad and his friends to this restaurant. It was owned by a husband and wife duo. She ran everything and she would hostess and he cooked. Everybody knew them, talked to them. I ended up living about two blocks from that place for a really long time. They had sold that restaurant, but opened another in the same shopping center. She drove a yellow Mustang so there was no mistaking if she was there or not. As it happened they lived in Kyle's delivery area so he got to know them too. Through the years I heard different things about them, saw them occasionally, ate at their new restaurant. Just last week, on a date I was talking about them because this boys sister works at the first restaurant they opened then sold. They have always been in the peripheral of my life, for over 15 years, in a lot of little "wow, isn't it a small world" scenarios. Today they were both found dead in their home, of an apparent murder/suicide.

Fair warning, if anybody needs to prefaces anything they tell me with "I have some bad news..." I'm just going to walk out into traffic.

When all else fails

2011-02-24T06:20:00.000-06:00

Vomit. I'm not sure if yesterday was a psychosomatic sickness, or I ate something, but I started puking at 9am and every hour subsequently. The longest span of time I went without vomiting was when I was crying uncontrollably. I was watching Julie&Julia. I didn't even know what was happening. I would just look at the screen and start bawling. I missed the funeral. I'm heartbroken. But it was an controllable vomit that made me break out in a sweat. The kind of prickly heat that means you are about to pass out. I never did, thankfully, but I couldn't attempt to drive and puke.

2011-02-22T14:10:00.001-06:00

I'm just so god damn sick of everything. I could scream.

It doesn't show signs of stopping

2011-02-18T12:07:00.000-06:00

Today they remove life support from great aunt. She got pneumonia and went into the hospital the day of my grandfather's funeral. I found out this tidbit from my cousin's facebook post. I have no idea how she is doing. I don't want to go to the hospital, because I saw her last on the last day I saw my grandfather. She was telling me stories about when she was a kid, and her grandson, and her granddogs, and laughing, and smiling, and going to stay with my aunt so that she could help her force my grandfather into taking his pain pills and eating. I want that to be the way I remember her. My dad and I lived with his aunt and uncle when I was growing up. I was eleven. During the summer she would take me to her antique shop in a little town. I ran around like it was the fifties. I would take some change to the gas station and buy candy. Walk across town to the burger joint. It was a lot of fun. I wish I could go back there. I went to her fiftieth anniversary this summer.

Kyle told me this week that his dad's lymphoma is back.

I'm having a hard time coping.

It's official

2011-02-17T20:26:00.001-06:00

I'm on a diet. I big suck ass diet, that consists of food with vitamins.

Last good meal, Nathan's hot dog at Black Sheep Lodge.

First good for me meal, turkey breast fillet and green beans. For desert, angel food cake with homemade blueberry sauce- no added sugar. Survey says, it's really good. The trick to poultry is to not overcook it. If I closed my eyes I would think it was pork chop, which is not on my diet.

Let's disguss

2011-02-15T18:50:00.000-06:00

I'm going on a date with a boy on Wednesday. He is an electrician. We have been on one date. I was set up by a friend. I just got the number of another boy who happens to be a carpenter. Again set up by a friend. If you know a hot plumber send him my way, the four of us could build a house. Here's thinking, maybe I should become a contractor. I seem to be meeting all the right people. Anybody know any sinewy HVAC men. Come on down.

Here's the kicker, I haven't decided yet whose eyes are prettier, the carpenter's or the electrician's. It's a very close call.

I keep you updated.

What's better than a drag show?

2011-02-13T21:00:00.000-06:00

I drag show for charity. It was most amusing. I learned some things. Like, who knew there was a gay sports bar. Sports? Really? I can kind of see it. Giant, bulky muscled men in tight pants. Most sports have tight pants. The only sports on the TV in the gay bar were nascar and basketball. Those are some of the only sports where they don't wear tight pants. The clientele were decidedly butch. I went with a friend who knew one of the queens performing. She was a hefty gal. Real sweet. Her act needed a little bit of work. She was having some wardrobe issues. But all in all, it was a really good time.

My Living Will

2011-02-10T14:46:00.001-06:00

I realize that in no way is this legal. I just want a record of what I want that isn't hidden somewhere that is found too late if, god forbid, something were to happen to me. I don't want anything to happen to me, but sometimes it is best to plan for the worst. Plus, I really care about this stuff. So listen up.

I do NOT want to be kept alive artificially longer than a period of possible recovery. Pull the plug, put a pillow over my face, I don't care. Just don't keep me alive like that.
I do NOT want to be embalmed.
I would like to be cremated. Then put in an Eternal Reef. Buy me the biggest reef I can afford. Put Grubb's ashes in the reef with me, along with any other dogs that have passed. Put on the plaque "'...the sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonders forever.' -Jacques-Yves Cousteau. Still it holds (My First, Middle, and Last name). She was loved. "

As for my belongings:

My most prized possession goes to Jessica, I know she will take good care of Bucket. Ideally, Bucket will be long dead by the time I die, but the point of this is you never know.
To Corley- All my memories.
Casey can have my computer and my camera.
My friends can have anything they want. Tammy gets the rest and my money, unless her house is payed off, then split it between my poor friends.

As for a memorial service:

I want everyone to tell funny stories about me. They have to be funny. No sad shit. I know nobody can tell a funny story like me, but you will have to try.
I want it to be recorded so in case anyone wants to hear the stories later they can. Just audio is fine. I don't want a video of people crying.
I do NOT want it to be in a church. A park or somewhere outdoors would be ideal, but the weather will dictate that. I would rather not have it in a funeral home, but I'm not firm on that.
I do NOT want any Bible verses to be read! Plenty of people have written prettier words. If something has to be read, choose something I have read and enjoyed. There is plenty of that too.
I want Big photos of all my pets.
No Flowers! If people want to spend money they can give to French or English Bulldog Rescue.
As for the Playlist here are some songs I want played in no specific order:

Old Before Your Time- Ray LaMontagne
Roadhouse Girl- Ray LaMontagne
Long as I can See the Light- CCR
Midnight Special- CCR
Good Times- Sam Cooke
Cool Jerk- The Capitols
Try Me- James Brown
Close Your Eyes- Peaches and Herb
That's How Strong My Love Is- Otis Redding
Open the Door to Your Heart- Darrell Banks
Stand By Me- Ben E. King
If You Need Me- Solomon Burke
Turn On Your Love Light- Bobby Bland
Patches- Clarence Carter
Just for You- Sam Cooke
Southern Cross- Crosby Stills and Nash
Other than that, play what reminds you of me. I only ask that whatever it is, it better have soul.

If any of my requests are not met NOBODY GETS ANYTHING! !!! AND I WILL HAUNT YOU!!!

Bucket will go to a French Bulldog rescue.

My computer and camera will go to Out Youth Austin.

All of my money will be split part ways between Out Youth, French Bulldog Rescue, and English Bulldog Rescue.

I do this because, if nothing else, I know Jessica will fight for Bucket and let everybody know what is what!

I will hand write this soon and have it signed by two witnesses so that it is legal.

What a night

2011-02-06T11:05:00.001-06:00

At my father's, father's funeral all of my father's exes were in attendance. His first wife (my brother's mother), his second wife (I call her Tammy), his third wife missed the party, but in her stead was a roommate/girlfriend of my dad's from when I was a kid, his forth wife, and the new girlfriend.

You do not know uncomfortable. I was sitting at the dad bashing table. Long story short I had to double fist. I was really doing good with my two drink limit, but sometimes there is nothing that takes the edge off except one too many beers. Consequently, I feel like shit today. Sometimes there is nothing that fixes one too many beers like a cheeseburger and fries and 10 am.