My nemesis

There is a guy at my work that is a total piece of shit. AND for some reason he thinks he can treat other people like they, too, are pieces of shit. He has crossed me once before, he crossed me today and we are through. I am done being treated like that. I was actually thinking about things I could possibly get away with and not get fired. I know I couldn't slap him, but I want to slap the shit out of his skinny ass. Could I possibly spit on him? Either way, when I rain down on him the furry that his built up from my shitty life he will cry. I am talking low blows. AND it will feel good. AND if he does cry that will only illicit more furry and I will kick him while he is down, and make fun of him for crying. Then I will stand over the corpse of his dignity and laugh.

I have to admit

the thought of two puppies is very appealing. Bela and Vincent, as in Bela Lugosi and Vincent Price. Two little tiny warm bodies in bed with me at night. Twice the puppy breath.

Then I think about twice the piss and shit. Twice the chewed up things. Twice the heartbreak when they would both die at about the same time.

Fantasy over.

Conversations in misery

First one with my mom-

Tammy: Maybe you should get a puppy. (Indecipherable....) Help.

Lauren: Help with what?

Tammy: Getting over your sorrow over Grubb.

Lauren: What am I gonna do with a puppy while I'm at work for 8 hours?

Tammy: Well... get two.

I would name them sassafras and moonshine, or mayonnaise and mustard, or some other great pair. But I don't need two puppies right now. Though I would love it.

Next one with my friend at work:

Veronica: You look like a parakeet today, Lauren.

Lauren: Yeah I didn't really feel like doing anything with my hair.

10 minutes later after a look in the mirror...

Lauren: Yeah, I do look like a parakeet today.

Veronica: Laughter.

Grubb is dead

At night, in the dark, in the silence, the silence that he used to occupy, the phrase plays over and over. Sometimes I hear it thirty times before I can get it to stop. I don't want this to be happening.

Mornings are harder. It is like my body wants to hurt me. It is almost like I have to remember all over again every morning. The silence is too hard to take. Sometimes I have a movie playing while I play a video game. By sometimes I mean all the time. It is the only way I can deal with the quiet. Sometimes I do let it be silent. I can only take so much before I start a million things playing so I can rest my heart.

I'm tired, exhausted would be more accurate, all the time.

I have one emergency sleeping pill sitting in my bathroom. Last night was pretty bad, but I was awake at 4:50. I wouldn't have been able to wake up for work if I took a pill then. Instead I laid in the dark and the silence.

More irrational thoughts...

In my head: I will never get over this. I will become bitter and sad (even more so). All my friends have already written me off. MP has cut his loses. All these things keep snowballing and I'm wrinkled, mean, and lonely.

In reality: I'm really glad none of that has happened yet, but fear it, terribly.

When you're alone

I have had nightmares the past two nights. Really. Really. Bad. Nightmares. Murderous, unnerving things that wake me up for good. There is no closing my eyes afterwards, there is no being in silence cause it plays on repeat until I manage to wake up and play music or look at the internet. I was turned weird on my bed this morning so that when I woke up I was looking at the wall that is normally behind my head. I was uncomfortable and confused. I couldn't figure out where I was exactly. It always helped to touch Grubb, so I knew I wasn't asleep anymore, that nothing was going to hurt me. But I'm all alone.

I only thought I was lonely before.

The day life took a shit in my mouth,

Tuesday night at about midnight Grubb had his first seizure. I knew from when we took Sluggs to the vet that old dogs who have never had a seizure it can only mean that they have a brain tumor. It was violent. While I was holding him he tore my shorts. He vomited all over. He shit himself. He didn't have the strength to open his mouth and for a minute I thought he would choke on his own vomit and I had no idea how to fix it. After about 10 minutes he came out of it and he paced and panted. Finally he went to sleep. I woke up at 7 in the morning to Grubb having another seizure. That one didn't last as long. He didn't have anything to vomit or shit, though he tried.

At 9am I called the vet. My suspicions confirmed, it was only going to get worse. Worst case scenario his seizures start to snowball and they don't stop. I didn't want that. I didn't want Grubb to have to have another seizure. I called Kyle. He came over and stayed with him while I went to the grocery store to get him a steak. I cut the steak up into pieces and fed him while we all laid on the bed. The three of us spent a couple hours talking and crying. I laid on Grubb and told him how much I love him. Kyle thought of really great Grubb stories that I hadn't thought about in years. I love thinking about when Grubb was young.

The first day I met Grubb it was love at first sight. He didn't look like his brothers or sisters. He wasn't wrinkly at all or lethargic. He was curious, and wandered around the house to look at things. His little white face was the cutest thing I had ever seen in my life. He had absolutely no interest in either of us that day, he was more interested in looking at his reflection in a brass planter in the kitchen. He was born in a little house by the lake. I drove while Kyle held him in a baby blanket on our way home. The memory of that drive is so clear. I remembered how badly I wanted to touch him and be the one holding him. It was a long drive. Grubb's last car ride was the same. I drove while Kyle held him. Every chance I got I looked over to touch him. Both times worrying if he was alright, is he nervous, will he hate me.

In the vets office they had a blanket on the table with a box of kleenex. Kyle and I waited. The vet came in and gave Grubb a sedative to relax him and left us alone while it took effect. He was nervous, but he was so sick all he could do about it was shake. I held him and talked to him. The sedative started to kick in and he laid down on the table in my arms. He was still breathing heavy. Very shortly the vet came back in with the needle. It was filled with something that was bright pink. Something about that color reminded me of Sonic the Hedgehog. In one of the games there was pink ooze that when you touched it made you shit all your coins. I hated the look of it. It didn't look real. It was like all of a sudden we were in a sci-fi movie. It made my stomach hurt. The vet tech that taught me how to give Grubb his shots came in and she stood beside me. She told me at an earlier visit that she remembered Grubb when he was a puppy. I was glad it wasn't strangers. They shaved Grubb's front leg. Grubb didn't move, just a steady loud breathing was all he could manage. The tech held his leg to make his vein bulge. The first time the needle went in he jerked his head a little. The vet stopped. They tried again that time with no reaction. He pulled the plunger back and Grubb's blood mixed with the pink ooze. A syringe full of death. I watched as the vet pushed the plunger in. Grubb quit moving immediately. The syringe was still full and I had to look away. I closed my eyes and laid my head on Grubb. The vet checked his hear beat. He was still alive, but his heartbeat was weak. I whispered secrets to him in his ear. The vet checked again and he was gone.

Grubb was never a very affectionate dog, but occasionally in his life he let me hold him while he slept. These occasions were few and far between so when it happened I cherished it. His lifeless body felt just like he was sleeping. He felt so good in my arms. I didn't want to let him go. His tongue was hanging out and it was a peculiar shade of purple. His eyes were barely open. But his body still felt like Grubb. I didn't want to let him go. I petted him for a while. I tried to wipe away all the tears and snot I had left on him. I cleaned his face a little. Little by little I got a little further away. I started having irrational thoughts. Grubb wouldn't want to be left alone. He hated the vets office. He wouldn't want to be in there without me. I had to force myself to leave. I had to force myself to believe that Grubb wasn't in there anymore.

It was a long, quiet ride home.

Kyle and I got back to the house and laid down on the bed and held each other and cried. I needed the human contact more than air.

My every thought is consumed by Grubb. When somebody invites me to do something I automatically worry if I will be away from the house too long. Who will take Grubb out, who will give him his pain pills. When I come home he is the first thing I think about when I put my key in the door. I start to have more irrational thoughts. Then I tell myself that it is completely irrational. I can't help it, I think it anyway.

today i lost 42 pounds. right where my heart was.

Birthday List:

• Robert Sapolsky books
• new sheets
• camera
• sex
• MP to be home
• to know if Grubb is hurting
• my happiness back
• (hopefully I get a package deal that comes with sanity too)
• I would like a living wage
• to find an awesome place to live at a price I can afford
• love, lots of it
• relaxation
• the tropics, yes the entire tropical region
• a hammock for naps in said tropical region
• money, tons of it

Oh, yeah I forgot something ....

I'm pretty sure I forget more interesting things than YOU have actually lived through.

Here are two little gems I had forgotten about:

A guy came in to pawn his laptop. We always have to have the password. He tells me that it is crazy. I tell him he can take it off or he can change it, after the second time he said it was crazy. He says it's ok. I get to the point in the computer where I can put in the password and he tells me, "ilovepussy". I smiled. You know I have some will power stored somewhere and sometimes it makes an appearance when need be. You know what I wanted to say. "Me too."

Next.

Last week an old black man was hitting on me. I'm pretty sure he was saying some pretty nasty things. But he sounded like the cat from King of the Hill so I had to keep asking him what he was saying. When I was pretty sure it was inappropriate I just let it go. I can't remember any of what he said. Something about riding something, and how I could help him. Yikes. I was also on the other side of the counter trying to fix dvd's and happen to be bent down. It was super uncomfortable. What could I do I just tried to ignore it. His 20 something year old granddaughter told him to stop talking all that stuff and go get the mower they were trying to pawn.

Oh, did I mention

Last night at the party, also known as the loneliest day of my life, I almost cried in front of everyone.

Let's talk about a surprise visit from an out of town friend. Genuine surprise and happiness to see a person you don't get to see all the time, who drove all that way special for you. Reunion.

That was exactly what I needed. CRUSHING. My heart was an empty coke can. I had to remove myself from the situation very quickly. Through incredible feats of will, I managed to not let a single tear fall.

Why hello there ..

Loneliest day of my life.

Mid-day I went to Central Market. The yuppies were swarming and the sight of all those happy. fucking. families. with their blond children and the perky mom tits. You could smell the living wage on them. Everyone was clean and well dressed. I thought I was going to vomit. Normal people disgust me. Note to self: Never go back there.

Then to a party where there was more than one couple who was in the early stages of I can't keep my hands off you. Well, fuck you too. Why don't you rub my nose in it. I haven't been touched by the person who makes me feel good in months. Go ahead, touch each other in front of me. Your happiness is like sandpaper on my skin. Please, feel good. I don't mind. Misery is my best friend anyway.

I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.

I can do this. I might be the angriest person on the face of the earth. However, I will survive.

I did have a really good time at the party. I talked to a gay boy with a library science degree from UT. The gays, they search each other out. MSIS's too. I swear, now that I'm not in the program they come out of the wood work. It made me feel good about school again. The only person I have talked to that said it sucks. Finally.

On an angry note. Men staring at me was really pissing me off today. I'm about to fucking cut you pissed. In the parking lot of central market the words, "What are you fucking looking at you YUPPY PRICK." Where on my lips. What was I thinking. You should have smiled you stupid bitch. Rich guys, hello. Really, really adorable guy at party quickly looking away every time I glanced in his direction. Yeah, you have a girlfriend, so you know what- Fuck off and die. I'm sorry I'm enraged by the only person I have found remotely attractive in months. Why don't you secretly stare at me when all I want you to do it talk to me. You won't because you have a girlfriend who you are probably really nice to. I know because you clearly are purposefully avoiding even eye contact with me. U-G-H.

This sucks.

The end.

Good night.

The color of my dreams

I wish someone could afford me already. Working is such a drag. I want to learn how to weld. I want a marine science degree. There is a ring at work, oh, this fucking thing is amazing. The smallest stone is like a carat and a half. It is set in 95% platinum. Yes, m'am. It looks amazing on my hand. This thing was made for me. It is only a little over 3 grand. Oh, if somebody would buy me a new car. That would be awesome. I NEED to be a trophy girlfriend. It is my calling in life. I'm sure of it. I am so good at vacations. Relaxing is my middle name. When will my dreams come true? Sigh.

Today's Customer of the Day:

A young hispanic male walks in covering his hand with his shirt. It is pretty slow so three of us are standing at the counter right next to one another. I'm flanked by two men. As soon as he walks in we get quiet. It's a little suspicious. The pawn shop ain't Chucky Cheese and I was pretty sure he didn't have a birthday surprise under there. When he gets closer to the counter I see that his face is swollen with two black eyes that are so fresh the bruises haven't developed good. This fool has blood splatter all over his sweatpants. His hand was wrapped in his shirt because it was bleeding from the fight he just got into. First thing he says is, "Do y'all take bikes?" My co-worker tells him no, and he turns and leaves. As if the 5 dollars we were going to give him for his bike is the most important thing in his life right now. Fool. You are bleeding. He walks out the door and my coworker says, "As if we are gonna take that bike with AIDS all over it."

A few of my favorites:

Number one favorite everyday thing about working nights: Watching the sunset through the bars on the front door. Beautiful.

On the scale of how much I like something, sunset is only slightly surpassed by- thunder storms and police lights in the parking lot, and only because thunderstorms don't happen everyday. The combo does this great thing where the lights are refracted in all the water droplets on the glass of the front door and on the camera lenses on the surveillance. It's like disco pawn. It was really nice that the nightly pick up of the alcoholic hobo who almost dies nightly on the side of our building coincided with the rain and an empty store. Thanks alcoholic hobo. I wonder if the EMS has a route by now.

Third inappropriate t-shirts- today's little gem: "You know you like it deep.." Funny. Sure the shirt was about house music, but I'll take a laugh where I can get it.

News from the Pawn Shop

I have a new bruise everyday.

I get ribbed by co-workers about how skinny I am. It is like I work in the twilight zone where I'm the one that isn't height-weight proportionate. When I was young kids used to get made fun of for being fat. My, how things have changed.

I hate people. Today a woman finally got around to checking when her loan was due. She was about two weeks late. Then she got all pissed off at me like it was my fault she is an idiot. Then she said that she would never come back to this pawn shop again. It took everything I had not to roll my eyes and tell her to blow me. Because we are fresh out of people who are willing to take a loan and not fulfill their part of the agreement that they signed. We are really gonna miss her shitty business. When she decided she would never come back it was 10 to close and we had a line out the door. I wanted to say "LOOK AROUND LADY! We aren't going to go out of business without you! Your empty threats are wasted on me. PLUS, I don't give a shit!"

I'm pretty sure a girl who told me I was pretty on the dating site came into the shop today. I gotta do more research to be sure.

For the birds,

Fuck off you shit eaters. God damn. Don't you ever sleep? What the fuck are you doing all night and day making that fucking racket? Give it a rest already. That is the reason people don't like you.

For the birds,

Work

Interesting Phenomenon: The Pawn Shop Run In. It happened twice today. It happens once a day on average. Somebody is at the counter, they turn around and bam. Someone they know. Everyone always asks, "What are you doing here?" Bitches, really? What the fuck do you think? They always reply, "Trying to get some money." This one woman who comes in (drunk) frequently, came in yesterday, she saw someone she knew. She came in today, saw someone she knew. I'm starting to think the bitch just knows everybody. Correction, men never ask. They shake hands do the man thing, shoot the shit and go their separate ways. Sometimes it is a long lost, squealing kind of run in. Sometimes it's a neighbor. Sometimes it is so crowded you would think we are giving shit away free, and it surprises me that I don't know anybody in the pawn shop.

One of the guys I work with smells. BAD. So we all joke about how bad he smells. We all have ideas about why. It was suggested that we all put are ideas in a hat and draw to make a decision on which one is the one we are all going to agree upon. I don't know if I mentioned when Jessica and I were in the thrift store and the bum came in who shit his pants. Either way, it doesn't matter. What matters is that the 25 year old I work with smells like that bum. Not quite as potent, but pretty close. Like I can smell him for four feet kind a bad. One coworker thinks he doesn't wear underwear because he is always picking at his crotch. That doesn't explain the smell. But I guess if he wears his pants multiple times. Oh, god. It is so gross. He also has no boundaries. He gets really close. Sometimes his funky ass smell makes me want to gag. Literally. Just for the record, I know body odor. It doesn't bother me. This is no sweat smell. This is some ass cheese funk that smells like a homeless person.

The missing

I think I need to poor a little out for my homie this weekend. Maybe even say a few words. I'm having massive issues with the loss of my camera. Flickr isn't helping any. It is a daily routine for me and every day it just laughs in my face. Sometimes I think, Oh, that is really pretty. I want to take a picture ... Then the crushing defeat settles in and takes a tumultuous nap in my heart. I swear I miss that camera like a person. Or a limb. I mean, I have never lost a limb, but I can sympathize with phantom pain a little better. It has been about 4 solid years of taking pictures all the time. 4 solid years of having a camera. This is the worst break up I've ever had. I didn't touch my camera every day so the pain sneaks up on me and bitch slaps me when I'm least expecting it, worse yet, when I am having a really nice thought. Now, every time I'm inspired by something I feel bad. That can't be a good thing.

Highlight of my day-

Bleach pen.

I'm such a loser.

Jessica and I went to the thrift store. I found a super cute dress. It fit like a dream. It could use a hook and eye on the top of the zipper, but other than that excellent. I think it was 7 dollars.

Until I got it home. I went to wash it and found some stains in the back at the bottom of the dress. Bummer. They weren't terribly noticeable, they kind of looked like tea. So I thought I would wash it and see what happens. Nothing, that is what happened. The stains weren't ruining my life or anything, it was only 7 dollars after all. But it was mocking me from the closet.

I regrouped. Bought a bleach pen. Then used it tonight. I'll be god damned if that motherfucker didn't work like a charm. No more stains. The whites are white, the greens are still green.

Resounding boo-ya.

Bleach pen.

Let's play a game of "My Life" hour by hour style

Midnight- Go to bed

2 am- Grubb wakes me up

4am- Carry Grubb outside to pee

4:15am- lay in bed thinking I'm wasting time just laying here not sleeping

7am-Carry Grubb outside to pee

7:15am refuse to get out of bed because I had the alarm set for 8

8am- Fuck it I'm sleeping until 9

9am- Snooze

9:15am- Take a 10 minute shower

9:25am- Race to the vet's office to get Grubb a new veil of shots

10am- Come home. Carry Grubb outside to pee

10:15am- Eat something

10:40am-Leave for work

11am-8:30pm- write 18 loans and sell 350 dollars worth of stuff (18 loans is a lot, like five more than the closest person, everybody else was at about 5-7 today)

(Lunch break: Race to money box, Race to bank, go to eat food)

8:45pm- Stop by the grocery store

9pm-Arrive at home

9:30pm- Skype

10pm-Harrass Grubb awake to take him outside

10:15-Change the sheets

11pm- Give Grubb pain pill, Watch an episode of Season 2 Dead Like Me

Midnight-Start all over

Exhausted.

P.S. My room smells like farts.

Please don't judge me

by what I'm about to say. But judge the shitty time I'm having in life. Please. I beg. ...

I need to find a new television series that I like so that I have something to look forward to.

Yeah. Just thinking it made me cringe. I'm like a sad lonely fat girl who spends Friday nights watching prime time.

New Day

I'm so exhausted. I want to sleep for three days. Leaving bed is a challenge.

For some idiotic reason I thought moving back in with my mom would make everything feel better. I thought I would feel safer, maybe less anxious or something. I feel less irritated that is for sure, but way shittier for other reasons, like I'm pushing 30 and living with my mom.

I haven't been to work yet and I'm already ready for the weekend. I just keep telling myself only 5 more days until the weekend. I may just sleep through Saturday and Sunday.

The emotion see-saw

So, so tired of the emotion see-saw. Yesterday, totally fine. Today, depths of despair. Tomorrow? Who knows, but I reckon it will be better. It's so frustrating. Then I started thinking why am I so down. Then I made a list in my head. That did NOT help.

Long, boring story short: all I can hear is my voice urging me to leave town, leave the country, just go anywhere else. Get away.

All I can figure that means is that I need to seek professional help.

Good morning sunshine

On this lovely morning I was awaken by the sun blaring through the two inch gaps on either side of the mini blinds. There was a tree right outside the window doing a little to shade those gaps from direct sunlight. Sometime yesterday evening the landlord cut it down. Then he put it in the street right where I park. Meanwhile, across the street there is a HUGE pile of tree branches the length of two cars. Naturally, I don't want to park under that tree. One- bird shit, two- the last time I did some cunt parked in front of my house and talked all night, three- giant branches fall off of it, better safe than sorry. So I moved the branches to the obvious place instead of where tenants would park. I'm pretty sure my landlord is a special needs kid.

Grubb sleeps all the way under the bed. When I lay down at the bottom of the bed I can hear him snoring. It is really relaxing. It feels like we are in bunk beds.

This old shit hole

I have to say, I was scared of being alone in my house during the day. At night it doesn't bother me for some reason. I didn't notice until the second I got to my mom's it smelled like home and I relaxed. At one point I was packing my car and the guy across the street called his dog, but I hadn't seen him or the dog. When I heard him I jumped.

I have this really uneasy feeling. Especially at work. It isn't unlike the feeling I had in Korea. When you go to all the same places you know people recognize you, because you are the foreigner, but you don't recognize them, because they are just a sea of faces. In this case, there are people out there who know what I look like, who have my full name, and I don't know what they look like. What if they do come into my job? It is very unsettling. It feels like somebody is watching me.

There are things I will miss about this house. Not one of them has to do with the actual structure. The least of which is the fact that it is hot all the time, because the piece of shit is like a colander. It lets all kinds of bugs in too.

Lessons in letting go

Not so long ago, before me and MP were best friends we were penpals. I told him in one electronic letter that there were two material things in my life that I didn't want to get rid of, not for what they were, but for what their function was, everything else I could give a shit. Can you guess what those things were. My computer and my camera. Before I left for Korea he asked why I didn't get rid of all my pictures. Since I have flickr it is just wasting space on my computer. I told him I couldn't. I just couldn't let go of multiples of pictures that are 1mm left or right. Well, now I know. I can let them go. I'm not quite over it yet, but I will be soon. Though, I'm pretty sure it will always sting a little. The only other thing in my life that I hang on to are shoes. I thought about selling them today. I had thought about it last year too. It didn't happen. I think I want to let them go. Compared to my pictures they don't mean shit. Why can't I just get rid of them. I'm gonna try and get rid of them. I'm gonna let go of my hair too.

*I do have sentimental things that I hold on to, but it is mostly papers and books.

When life gives you shit...

Make a shit sandwich. Why not, you know you're hungry.

The weird ways of Grubb

Grubb is the ultimate weirdo these days.

Have I mentioned he only makes right turns. The vet thinks it is because he is favoring his left leg. I don't know. He seems to make right turns when right turns aren't necessary. Sometimes he walks in the tiny space that we have left to walk in due to packing, goes as far as he can makes a 180 degree right turn and walks back. Over and over. When I say goes as far as he can I mean face in corner.

He also really likes to scratch at things. He spent one week in the bed I made him. Now he likes to sleep mostly under the end of the bed or all the way under. If there is one piece of clothing in the whole 7 feet down there he scratches it like he wants to lay on it but just moves it all to one pile near the door. I woke up this morning to my dirty clothes rearranged.

And finally, he has taken to shitting on the street. He doesn't want to walk in the grass. He will pee in the grass, but I guess he draws the line at shitting.

He has always been a strange little dog. It just keeps getting weirder.

I really want my hair cut like this

In fact this woman has been upgraded to love of my life.

As I told MP: I'm having a crisis so I want to cut my hair, which could make my crisis worse. I'll try not to. I want to though.

The tides of change

I feel good things coming my way. Ok, so MP isn't here. I'm not getting laid (mostly because I'm just not interested in people these days, it's weird). But I feel a change in the air. Sometimes really bad shit has to happen so that when good happens you appreciate it.

Examples:

• My mom came over on my day off and parked under the tree across the street. About five minutes after she arrived somebody knocked on the door. I heard her talking to a man and I went outside after her and he was telling her about the tree limb. I giant part of the tree broke right as he was getting into his car. He heard it and came and knocked on the door to tell the person with that car. Luckily, that giant branch didn't fall but was hanging by some bark. My mom moved her car. A few hours later before the city could get there it fell. Narrow escape.
• Today at lunch I went home. I live really close to where I work so I drive home everyday. I was the first at the light and I had gone into a zone. I was staring off into space. When I came to, I realized that the light was green. Right then an eighteen wheeler blew threw the red. Had I not been daydreaming I would have died. Narrow escape.
• I just generally felt better about life today. I have dealt with the fact that I am moving back in with my mom until MP gets back. I'll keep looking for a place. I can move out closer to when he gets back. I can do this. It isn't that bad. Grubb will have a doggy door. Maybe he won't have as many accidents. I will be closer to Kyle so we can give Grubb his shot. It will be okay.

New subject:

I bought a backpack tonight. It is really hideous. If someone happens to steal my backpack this time there will be no blending in. It is the color of baby shit. I told MP I'm going to put a giant sticker on my computer that says "I love to suck DICK!" So that if someone steals it they will be too embarrassed to sell it. Then I thought they could always get their girlfriend to do it. So I started thinking up things that both men and women would be embarrassed about. Like, "You could drive a car through the tunnel that is my asshole"....Too long.... "I dig Chicks with Dicks!" That's a good one. I'm not gonna lie, I do kinda dig it. Not in a turned on way, but a fascinated way. But then it is really inappropriate for family oriented places. You can't really go to public places and use your computer. I can just hear it, "Mommy, what is chicks with dicks?" I'm pretty sure I could leave my computer unattended on the pawn shop counter and no one would steal it with that all over it.

I need a really good patch for my backpack too. I wish there was teal paisley on it. If only I could have everything exactly how I wanted it. Who am I kidding. I never would have bought this backpack had mine not been stolen. I think I wanted that.

Remember when,

Remember a little while ago when I wrote about how much I hate Walmart? That was because I couldn't get the money from my job that I worked for. Here we are again. I have received one paycheck from work without a hitch. The 10th was payday and I still don't have access to my money. I'm almost certain that I won't until next Monday at the earliest. The bank doesn't want to do anything on Friday. This is a different problem of course, but I'm pretty sure the universe is telling me I shouldn't have a job. Or it's telling me that it wants me to be a slave. Or that working for the man gets you no where, it only breaks your spirit and spits you out.

I also think the universe is taking a mighty big dump in my mouth right now and I wish it would finish so I can swallow and move on. It's crushing.

My hand

The day I got robbed I sat down on the floor. Then I clenched my fist and hit the floor with the side of my hand. I think I may have really hurt myself. My bruise really hasn't gone away and it still hurts. Hurts more than a week old bruise. The swelling has gone down. Sometimes typing really hurts. Maybe I fractured something. Oh, well. Just chalk it up to more shit on my plate. My hand still works.

Thank you

Thank you, Universe. You cut me a little tiny break today. I was able to give Grubb the shot (with Kyle's help). There was no excitement, no stress, no anal expression. That in the everyday is pretty impressive, frankly. All Grubb needed was some stomach scratching to distract him and bam. He didn't even know it. And when it was all over it felt like someone had just lifted a brick house off the top of me.

Now I wish I could have that exact same sense of relief with the rest of my life.

Work Porn

Looking at a video camera at work I saw some ugly people porn. I mean really ugly. I thought the woman was a pudgy man until I saw her vagina. I saw them snort some really bad brown cocaine. It was amusing.

I'm so exhausted.

So... Life really sucks. . . .

My dog is totally broken. The vet can't figure out something to make him stop hurting. Tomorrow I go to pick up shots to give him myself. The vet said I could practice with saline on his french bulldogs. That might be the highlight of my day. Giving a stranger's dog a shot.

My house got totally broken into. They stole my camera. They stole my computer. They upset my dog. The whole thing just makes me sick. They didn't touch anything else in the house. Just my stuff.

To top it off, the landlord for this house is a total fucktard so now I have to move. The principle of the thing is that I won't give him my money. He is an unthinking, social defective. I think he has a girlfriend/wife, who p.s., was waiting in the car while he boarded up the door the night of the break in. That just proves to me that any man can get a woman. I mean, any bumbling, fucking ass clown.

After the break in, the asshat landlord thought it was a good idea to park at the back of the house and come walking up to the front door. He was dirty looking and his arm was bandaged. Long story short he looked like a hobo. He walks up and says, "Hey, how's it going". I have never met this man before in my life. As far as I know a stranger just walked up to my house. So I say hi in the bitchiest voice I can muster. He then asks me if I am Lauren. My words said yeah, my voice said fuck you who wants to know. He then introduces himself. He didn't even say he was sorry to hear about what happened. I swear if I live a thousand years I will never meet a more socially retarded shit stain. The worst part is there is more. I just don't even feel like writing about it.

I have to wake up really early in the morning. I'm not looking forward to it, because I'm not really that tired.

I'm monumentally depressed. But I think I got all my tears out yesterday. Sometimes that really sucks because once my body feels like it has cried enough I won't be able to cry again. It just relieves so much. Sometimes I need it to happen again.

Utterly Heartbroken

Well, here comes a stress diet. My favorite. I'm hungry. Then I eat and what to vomit. Maybe I should take a couple of Grubb's pain pills. They don't work for him. Or maybe they do. I can't tell. When he takes one he gets incredibly anxious. Last night he paced for hours and hours and panted. When I finally got him to sleep he woke up an hour later to do some more panting. That happened a few more times before he slept the rest of the morning.

I did it

I have officially kicked Grubb off the bed. I don't want to. It hurts me. But he can't keep pissing and vomiting on the bed. I raised the bed so he can't get on it. After spending almost the entire night awake, vomit all over the place, one of those places was almost my face. I got up at 6. Went to the laundromat and when I got back home I took the cinderblocks from outside and raised the bed again. I made Grubb a little bed in the corner that he apparently hates, or resents too soon to tell. Either way, he won't lay in it. I tried to make it cozy and put all his things around it. No go. Hopefully tonight he changes his mind. I really wish this would get better. I'm not asking for a miracle. I'm just asking for a little relief. I'll take not pissing and vomiting. Please.

Not sure I can handle this.

Ugh

I'm a giant asshole. I can't even stand myself right now. I'm so lucky people love me.

Oh! Just in case you had any doubts

Never, Ever, EVER leave anything on the counter at a pawn shop. This means cell phones and wallets.... Basically anything you own that you want to continue to own. It's a pretty simple idea. For god's sake what are you thinking? Otherwise the police have to get involved and it's a big mess. Like once a day someone is missing something and we have to go watch the video. Granted, it always happens that nobody stole anything, and, in fact they never brought whatever it was in, but today was the day. Someone performed a magic trick and made a wallet disappear.

Here is one more tip. Never, Ever, EVER steal anything from a pawn shop where you are a regular. We have video, we enter your i.d. into our computers every time you come in (sometimes more than once a week), some of us even know your name, now the cops know your address. For god's sake what are you thinking?

Stressed out checklist

• Headaches- You betcha!
• Sore back- Done!
• Nightmares? - On board!
• Sore Throat- Shit, why not!?!
• Twitching of all kinds- You know it!

AND INTRODUCING a new player to the game: Rash on my sides! I can't wait until I get older and I get shingles. Yippee!

In other news:

• Last week, I got to go to training for a week and sit down, so today after work my feet didn't hurt. I just needed an extended break from standing so my feet could recover.
• Grubb seems to be showing some signs of feeling better. He has been awake and alert longer today than he has been in the last month, I think. He gets in and out of the bed like he owns the place.
• Grubb loves Kraft Singles. They are his fav. Each day he takes 4 fish oil pills. Omega-3's are supposed to naturally suppress inflammation, and half a anti-inflammatory. These anti-inflammatory pills are $40 for 10 pills. I'm gonna have to sell a kidney.
• I can't wait for tomorrow night. I am excited about grilling steaks at the neighbors house.
• A new word I heard from a woman who make way more money than me- theive, it was used as a verb, as in "Don't thieve".
• Today I used the word "precarious" with a regular and he said, "Excellently placed word." I said, "Good, I didn't get that degree in English for nothin'." He thought it was pretty funny.
• Good night.

Grubb songs

Me and Grubb like to sing "You Can Call Me Al". It goes, "You can be my body guard I will be your long lost pal. I can call you Grubby and you can call me mom."

Also Graceland is our song. I like to sing, "My traveling companion is nine years old a child of my first marriage" to Grubb.

Just in case you didn't know some of Grubb's favorite things are pickles and tomatoes.

He only has arthritis in his knees, but it is very bad. He is in a lot of pain still. It's hard to take.

Sometimes crying helps

I wish it would just fix my problems too. If it did I would cry until next week. I may do that just in case.

I need to cut the tree outside the window. When the wind blows it makes a nasty noise and when Grubb and I are up at 4 in the morning it irritates us.

Miles apart

Yesterday, Grubb was in a lot of pain. He peed the bed and shit himself yesterday. After three aspirin last night and three this morning, Grubb is a brand new dog. Today, was the first day I have been home and he has been alert in at least a month. Sometimes he is sitting up in bed. Today he was in the living room just standing around. More of his food was eaten. It was great. Yesterday, I had a mild breakdown and cried and cried and cried. Now, I know at least the pain is manageable with aspirin right now. The vet told me that arthritis in a dog's spine can make them incontinent, and basically there is nothing you can do. Some dogs benefit from anti-inflammatory medicine, but not all. Grubb goes for x rays tomorrow. Hopefully, I will be able to fill a prescription so that incase aspirin isn't helping I will just be able to give him a different pain killer.

Fun on a Friday night

I'm at the laundromat. It's like a ghost town in this place. I love it. I miss that about having a job where I worked until midnight. Everything you do, you do alone. Even when you do things before work, because nothing is busy at 10 in the morning on a weekday. (Except maybe the grocery store in a neighborhood where a bunch of old people live.

I feel the need for bullets. The non-violent kind. The literary kind.

• My area manager is a lez. I thought the interview went overly well, it made me wonder. Usually, me and women don't just jive automatically. I was feeling a little pinging on my radar yesterday when I kept looking at her nails, then down at mine and they looked like they were kept the same exact way.
• My mom has a knack for dating X-treme assholes. She should join the x-games, or should I say ex-games. Ha! Anyways, She was telling me that they were breaking up and having a fight and he threatened to come to my house. I don't know why. He probably thought that my mom keeps secrets from me or something and he was going to tell me. Not the case, but I guess he thought he has something over her. So she tells him, "Would you like me to give you her address?" Clearly he wasn't prepared for her calling his bluff. So I tell her, "I don't know what he is going to do, but come on motherfucker." She says, "I know, you can handle yourself." Then she says, and this is a direct quote, "I wanted to tell him 'She wouldn't shit in your mouth if your guts were on fire.'" I fell out laughing. Truer words were never spoken.
• My favorite thing about my job is when people play instruments in the store.
• My second favorite thing about my job is that, surprisingly, no one is ever angry. They sure don't take it out on me if they are, because they know good and well I have what they need.
• The worst thing about my job is that I am on my feet 8 hours a day. My feet hurt so bad at the end of the night it isn't even funny. It feels like my heels are bruised.
• The best thing about my roommate is that I never see him.
• The worst thing about my roommate is that the only way I know he has stopped by the house is by his beard hairs in the sink. I have one pet peeve. Well, two, the other has to do with ice trays.
• I am thinking about doing volunteer work tutoring in a correctional facility. The thought really excites me, but I wonder how I would get anything done, like sleeping and eating.
• There are not enough hours in the day.

"U.S. History in Four Words"

At the store there is a huge chain. Over 200 grams of gold, and incase you don't know, that is almost half a pound of gold. We call it the Mr. T chain. Well, the sad news is that we sent it off to get melted down yesterday. BUT, before we did, I took a picture in it. Just as a farewell, you know.

I needed a farewell, because I have a relationship with this chain. Just the other day I put it on before we opened and I said I wanted my emergency button to hang from it. (Did I mention we have to wear emergency buttons all the time while we are in the store.) So my store manager says, "Some big black guy would come in here and snatch you up and leave, and he would get a chain and a white girl."

MP says that is U.S. history in four words- White Women and Gold.

P.S. I should have titled this blog "Gangster Bitch".... Ah, this tickles me.

Sometimes ...

I have some outbursts. Sometimes, I have bad days. I get angry. As a consequence, I get down on myself and think that I had been controlling my anger so well, but I fucked it up.

Then, I think of my spiritual and behavioral role model, The Dude, and I realize that he had some bad days too. We can't be Dude-like all the time. We are only human after all. I feel pretty good after that.

The Pawn Shop

One very important thing I have learned since working at the pawn shop:

Write down the serial numbers to all your expensive shit! That is the only way you will ever be able to reclaim your stuff. The police have access to all pawn shops data base (in texas, at least) but if you don't have your serial number you can't do anything.

We have discussed ...

how I have dreams about looking in the mirror, right? Last night I was looking at all my grey hair. There were tons. I just kept looking thinking, I swear those weren't there yesterday. This morning when I was running errands before work I thought about this dream, but thought it was real for a second. I thought, Oh, I should have checked on my hair again. For what I don't know. For the record, I had seen myself in the mirror before I left. It looked nothing like my dream. Why did I think that?

Here's a bit of advice

The curb of someone else's house at 3 in the morning isn't the single's club. Even if the guy you called to fix your tire is really cute. I can hear every word you're saying and your shrill fucking laugh is getting on my nerves.

After an hour I went out side. I said, "Is there a problem here?" She said, "There was. I had a flat tire." It was kind of winey. It set me over the edge. So I say, "I can hear every word you say and it's 4 in the morning on a fucking Sunday. Move it along. Cause I'm about to call the police." I was pissed. I could hear the anger in my own voice. Then I slammed the door. She said she was sorry before I could manage to get in the house. Thank god she didn't say anything else. I was about two words from saying "I'm gonna call the fuckin' police to drag you away after I get done kicking your ass." I swear her voice set my nerves on edge from the very second she woke me up. I hate more than anything to be woken up in the middle of the night it pisses me off. I was able to fall asleep again, but I was awaken several times. I had had enough. I would have gladly ripped that bitches tongue out.

Now, I'm awake and pissed and can't go back to sleep anyway.

Productive

For such a crappy start I have had a really good day. I got a ton of stuff done. This is exactly what I needed, especially since next week I don't have a day off until the weekend.

Plus, I'm pretty sure living in a house that isn't cluttered improves my disposition.

(peacock stationary set, calendar from korea, and coaster with drink recipe)

Now, not every flat surface in my house looks like a clutter monster fucked it.

This is my wall. (top map of hong kong subway, bottom map of seoul subway, 4 pictures I took, bulldogs, and a diva)

Still have a few things left to do, but it feels good.

You want to hear a really bad way to start your day?

My roommate came home. I only heard walking and since I was asleep and it woke me up in my sleep induced confusion I thought, "It's just MP walking around the apartment." Then quickly realized WHAT! and my head jerked up. Then just as quickly realized that I'm not even in an apartment, and MP is in Korea. There are so many weird things about that moment when I didn't know where I was. Had a small flash back to Korea I guess. Maybe I was dreaming about him. Here comes the point, Sleep. Over.

Is you feeling that?

First off, our company has their own radio station. I have heard this song from when I was in high school that goes, "From the front to back, where my boys at, Is you feeling that?" Is you feeling that? I have heard that phrase probably twenty time in the past three days. Just say that out loud to yourself. It sounds worse out loud, if you can imagine. The phrase creates turmoil in bowels.

Another gem.... It seems to me that people who patronize pawn shops must fart cluster rings. (Just incase you're in a higher income bracket.) We have so many damn cluster rings. They are so ugly. Every time I think cluster I immediately think fuck. You say cluster. I say fuck. Cluster. Fuck.

Get this

On my way to work I was pulled over (in the parking lot next door) because my inspection sticker is expired. I was totally fine for like 5 minutes. The cop is writing up the ticket. Then I start to cry. Just a little, I was holding it back pretty well. He asked if this was my first ticket and then the flood gates opened. I told him I was just having a shit week. Now the tears are just pouring down my face and I'm laughing to myself a little about how when you have a shitty day it just gets worse and worse. He honestly looked sort of shocked and freaked out and told me he didn't know what had me all bent out of shape but that he wasn't going to give me the ticket. I cried for a few more minutes and sat in the parking lot before pulling into work. I was 10 minutes late. Thankfully nobody said anything to me or my crying streak would have just kept going. I actually had wet spots on my shirt when I walked into work. Tear stains.

Yikes. I'm a wreck. I need to be totaled and scrapped for parts.

Whoops

Sorry for the outburst. Life will be better today.

I have totally forgotten the fact that on my day off I did nothing I intended to do. Not to mention it was a worse day than when I'm at work.

Dear Walmart,

I will never spend a penny in your store. If I ever step foot in one of those shit holes again I will have to be dragged in kicking and screaming. If it was the last fucking place on earth I wouldn't even go behind the building to take a shit. Furthermore, if the poorly constructed, sweatshop shit you sell were free I wouldn't even take it.

Holy Shit! My day went south in a hurry.

P.S. Now I'm drinking wine straight from the box and it's 11:30.

Just because you don't see it everyday doesn't mean it isn't happening.

A Tale of Two Pawn Shops

Yesterday was story time in the pawn shop. The stories were about porn. On the floor behind the counter was a dvd of girls gone wild. The story behind that was one of our regular customers bought a tv/dvd or something and she got home with it and porn was in there. Then out came the stories... Testing a man's dvd player and man on man porn starts playing. Getting a tv for a girl on her first day and bondage porn was in the dvd player already.

Then the manager was telling me that somebody tried to pawn a gold painted dildo. He says it's true. He also said it was used. How he knew I didn't ask. I have a hard time believing it. Sometimes his punch lines are a little too perfect.

On the other hand, pun intended, a manager working at one of our other stores took some one's prosthetic arm as collateral for a loan.

The hits just keep coming.

A little old black woman came in because she had to get a loan on her new generic brand garden shears and a desk fan. All she needed was 10 dollars. It broke my heart. Sometimes the world is an awful place and I just can't see past it. She was incredibly sweet.

And one more thing

As if I didn't live in the twilight zone most of the time as it is. Who goes to a gay bar and gets hit on by straight men? Is no place sacred? For god sakes. It would have been fine if it was only one guy that possibly was in the wrong place. But TWO in one night. Really?

Not only that a few weeks ago when I was in a lesbian club a straight guy hit on me. What was he doing in there? The breeders start coming out of the woodwork whenever I'm around.

Life is too weird. Too fucking weird.

Oh! No girl! You di-unt!

Two black women came into the store today and their nails were disgustingly long. I'm talking tickle your gag reflex long. At least six inches or more. They were her real nails. From across the room I couldn't tell, but close up they were kinda bumpy and just disgusting and painted some god awful ridiculous orange and gold. The other ladies were red. Outrageous. They curved to the side. Oh gross. I can hardly stand thinking about it.

A man told me that he always wanted a girlfriend with a lot of tattoos. Ok. Did he want an award? I just l-o-v-e the fact that I'm somebody's fetish or notch on their belt. Please, tell me more. You would never go up to a fat woman and say that you really want to have sex with a huge fat person. Or to a woman with giant feet and say hey lady your feet are huge that has always interested me. Why would you try to pick someone up like that? People. Please, let's think before we speak.

The really awesome part is is that I'll have to be back in less that 12 hours. Fun!

I fffound this looking at porn

Marc Jacobs in bed with a bull terrier. Yes, please. I'll take 3. The only thing missing is an awesome pair of shoes. That is what I call porn.

"What am I supposed to do? Sit alone waiting for you?"

Oh, Stevie Wonder. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to date people. Where does that leave me? Limbo. It's gross. This isn't the first time I have been in this situation. The situation being, the one person I want to be around is in a different country. Maybe there is something wrong with me. Like I seek out relationships where that could be a possibility. Tell me who of you has been in this situation. This is TWICE for me. Can it really be coincidence?

Well, I'm being a little dramatic. I really like being alone. Just not 7000 miles alone.

More about the pawn shop

My feet hurt. I wish a boy was around to massage them. Damn they hurt.

I have a black spot on my hand and it won't come off. Not sure what it is either. That can't be good. I'm totally compulsive about my hands feeling dirty. Which is bad news in a pawn shop. My hands are instantly dirty once I wash them. Between people's dirty collateral and money, ugh, just thinking about it makes me want to gag. I'm an obsessive washer. I wash my hands before I come home from work. If I have somehow forgotten I wash them as soon as I get in the door.

Today a woman asked to see the channel. She literally said, "I want to see these channel". (As far as I know she was white, if she was hispanic she had no accent of any kind.) I didn't know what she was talking about until she pointed at the case with the sunglasses in it. She meant Chanel. Then said, "Are these real Channel?" Like what you change on your television. What could I have done? I said, "I don't know."

Tired and tired

I ate desert first tonight. Which is better than what I had two nights ago- just desert. That means key lime pie and a beer. Tonight I ate key lime pie and wine. Then I went home and ate left over Thunderclouds.

I'm just not very good at feeding myself. It's a mixed blessing. Have you seen how bangin' my body is? Kidding. Kind of. I've dealt with it. I'm never going to be able to want to feed myself three times a day, well, anything that takes effort anyways.

If it's edible I put it in my mouth and don't complain. One more piece of evidence suggesting that I should have been a man. If there is a god, turns out he does make mistakes.

Last night

When I was sleeping terribly... I had a dream that I was testing my thoughts with a diamond tester.

I need a note pad for work

Yesterday I saw a man who had been in the sun too long. His face was permanently discolored at least three different shades ranging from red to white to tan. The discoloration plus his features made him look curiously like a dog. He was pawning the stroller thing on the back of a bicycle that holds your kids or dogs. Weird.

If a man is under 30

I kinda blow their hair back. For some reason I think 30 is enough years to have met someone at least similar to me. The problem is my crassness and willingness to talk about anything with less than mild enthusiasm and no shame whatsoever is getting worse as I get older. So 30 may not be good enough pretty soon. I just don't give a shit. When someone asks a question I answer honestly. It surprises people who don't know me. If there was a job title that included surprising normal people in their world I would be CEO.

I hate cramps. The best is when it wakes me up in the morning. You think your alarm clock sucks. Nothing like internal hemorrhage to start your day.

Dear Life,

Could we all just get it together and be fun and happy all the time. If all the time could feel like I feel when I'm with my friends and kinda blitzed that would be great. I'm not all that interested in the times that are downers. I would also like to have that fuzzy feeling I get when MP tells me that my pessimism is cute... all the time.

Either way, you have been great so far. Let's keep it up! See you tomorrow.

Team Work!

Love,

Lauren

Down at the Pawn Shop....

...An elementary school music teacher came in looking for violins. I showed her one, the price was over 100 dollars. She said that she couldn't take that to the elementary school because they "go wild". So I asked her if she was a music teacher as I showed her a clarinet. She said yes, that she taught at such-and-such school. I thought- Oh, THE EAST Side. They HAVE a music teacher (imagine the inflection going way up in my mind-voice, especially on the "oh" and the "have".) Then she proceeded to tell me that she wanted to build up her collection of instruments because when she talks about instruments in class most of her kids have never actually seen most of them. Turns out there is no response for something so atrocious. All I could do was keep my work face on and nod a little. Then I quickly changed the subject to alternative teaching programs. It helped. I felt a lot better at the end of the conversation.

Oh did I mention...

I got a job in a pawn shop.

It's a different world.

The things you see. These people live so far from my world I wouldn't know where to begin to connect with them. So I smile. What else can I do?

I get to sleep in my own bed tonight. Bliss.

I might turn you into stone

Just as documentation of my sickness I took a picture of my demon eyes so everyone can be in awe of them. Now the lighting is low and you may be thinking, "Eh, those aren't that bad."

But I also took a picture with the lighting in the bathroom so you can see what I catch a glimpse of every time I pass the mirror. I have no more whites. I only have the reds of my eyes now.
Maybe a demon has actually taken possession of me.

The pain in my chest and throat are taking a slow retreat now. Still the redness of my eyes is unrelenting. I was supposed to leave the house tomorrow. I have to leave the house tomorrow to get things done before I have to start work. It should be loads of fun.

Warning!

Do not watch Dear Zachary. I know a lot of you have it on your Netflix watch instantly. Holy shit. That is the saddest thing I have ever watched. IN. MY. LIFE. I was crying so hard I wasn't even watching anymore and it wouldn't have mattered because I was crying over the audio. IN. MY. LIFE. I mean it was the most touching. I have never been so impressed and inspired by two people that I have never met. Don't watch it unless you have enough kleenex to sink a ship. It makes you wonder. I may never forget it. It was a terrible heartbreaking story and still the love and human tenderness breaks through everything else. How do people keep going? It was amazingly powerful.

So.....

Mucinex got ever last drop of mucus... out of my eyes. And if that was my problem it would have worked wonders. I would even have recommended it to people.

If you could take a pill that gave you pink eye this is exactly what it would feel like. I woke up this morning completely unable to open my eyes. I rubbed the inside of my right eye because it had stayed moist the longest and was able to move a little goo. I barely saw light through my eyelashes as I stumbled to the bathroom and got in the shower. I haven't blown my nose but three times since yesterday. Logically, I think maybe I don't have any mucus so this stuff is just working where it can. WRONG. I blew my nose in sheer amazement as I looked at the giant wad of green.

I coughed up shit this morning that was the color of old appliances the ones from the seventies, they call it avocado.

I wish you all could see how god awful red my eyes are. I look like a demon.

Sick and tired

Last Saturday at the free She and Him concert it was freezing. Well, 40 degrees with disgustingly strong and cold winds. We stood in the cold for a good three hours. It was pretty horrific.

The next day I had a fever.

The day after that it felt like it was gone. I didn't take my temperature at any time, because, well, because I don't care. Finding a thermometer is a lot harder than observing that I go to sleep freezing and can't get warm for hours and wake up sweating.

The day after that, snot was running down the back of my throat at a break neck pace. This caused my throat great pain and suffering.

(I still haven't slept for more that three hours yet without waking up.)

The day after that I was spitting up things the size and color of a rusty Volkswagen.

Today I took some mucinex. Currently, I am laying in bed and my nose is making weird creaking noises as if the flood gates are opening. It scares me.

I hadn't been looking at the back of my throat. That kind of thing takes effort and a flashlight. However, I was parked just right this morning. The sun was rising in front of me. I pulled down the visor to look in the mirror and it didn't block my mouth. Holy shit. It is like horror movie back there. I can barely see past my tonsils on a good day. This not being one of them. What I could see looked like it had been worked over with a meat tenderizer. One part of my tonsil has some blood on it. What is that about? No way that is good. Mystery of mysteries how is it not getting washed away with the water I was drinking? My cough is mostly dry, which hurts. The only thing worse than not coughing anything up is coughing something up and gagging.

The weird thing is I only have green snot in the mornings. The rest of the day it is clear or milky. What does that mean? I need a fortune teller to read my snot.

Please, please let something work so I don't feel like shit anymore. I just want good sleep.

Addendum

Also to Mr. Horowitz,

If I saw you in the street I would spit right in that bulbous cross eye of yours. I'm not antisemitic, but I am anti rich men who think they rule the fucking world. What makes you so entitled you piece of shit? Because you have millions to make shady back room deals and to bribe government officials? Think again. I suspect you are a lonely individual, on top of the fact that you are a sorry excuse for a human being.

Okay. I think I got it all out. It has been a while since I have felt this much rage for anybody, little less a person I haven't even met. I thought my rage induced outbursts had subsided. I guess they were just hibernating.

Dear Mr. Horowitz

Choke on a cock you fucking douche bag.

Thank you.

That is all.

One date down

My date last night was fun. We laughed. We had a good time. I got a hole-in-one...at mini golf not the date. We will probably see each other again. She brought up bower birds. I almost fainted. Then she thought I was bullshitting her when I told her I knew what they are. I would like to see somebody actually stump me with a bird. I would be even more impressed.

Oh get this shit.

A little background: Last weekend the crew went to a party. There, a very short, long haired man asked Corley if I would be willing to make out with him. Seeing as Corley is my making out agent she is the appropriate one to ask.

One the date: I was telling this girl about how good I am at attracting awkward men. I told her the story. She was appalled, appropriately. Then I moved on and told her about this other guy. In the middle of that story she blurted out the other guys name. I told her to shut up. She actually knew who this guy was. Austin is so small.

Here is the skinny.

I got on a dating site. Really? I know. But my god. You should see this thing work it's magic. I have pussy up to my eyeballs. "Oh, really?" you ask. Yes. In a big way. Want to hear my plans for the week? Good, cause I'm telling you anyway.

Wednesday: Minigolf at 3:30. Drinks and dinner afterwards.

Thursday: Bowling and new lesbian bar afterwards.

Friday: Drinks and dinner at 6.

Saturday: Free concert with my number one gal at 8pm. Though this isn't due to the dating site. I have known Corley for a long time. Probably not getting laid either. Either way, I will probably have the most fun on this date.

My dance card is plum full up. I actually had to write their names down on a piece of paper and when and where I would be meeting them. Could I fit anyone else in if I wanted to? Probably. You free?

Gross

I woke up this morning dizzy. It was the sort of serious spins from being really hung over. However, I didn't drink last night. That really sucks. I haven't woken up dizzy in a long time.

The good news is I go drug test for my job tomorrow. I would have today, but I can't drive when I'm dizzy. That would be really dangerous. Pretty much all I can do is lay down and sleep. Even getting up to pee can be pretty dangerous because I will puke (or fall) if I stay dizzy for too long. I didn't eat or drink anything all day until 4pm. It sucks to be alone. Nobody takes care of you.

Bit of a dilemma

I'm bored.

I'm tired of living with my mom.

I'm tired of the run around this job I applied for is giving me.

I want to get out of the house but have no ideas.

I wish a really cute girl would just appear at my doorstep. That would be so nice.

I think I have decided that I need to cry and get it over with. I haven't cried in, let's say, a month, or more. Apparently, my body needs to cry more than that. It is like my tear ducts fill up and for no reason at all I'm crying. For instance, today I watched the Independent Spirit Awards. I cried pretty much the whole time. "Why?", you ask. Very good question. I think it started when Robert Ebert sponsored an award. The winner of the award got 25 grand. He was sitting in the audience. The camera panned to him as he tried to produce something that looked similar to a smile. The audience stood, he stood. My god. I cried. And cried. I cried for bodies everywhere, all of them will eventually enter the losing battle with time. It isn't pretty. Then I cried a little for my grey hair. Cause I too am fading away ever so slightly, getting smooth and rounded by time, day in and day out, like a rock in the tides. Most of my sharp edges are gone. Then people would get up and say a litany of thanks to everyone who has ever been in their life. Some of them were so genuine and special. I couldn't help but think how great it would be to get a award from a whole group of people who told you what you were so intensely passionate about, and worked so hard to create is a beautiful thing. I think they should have award shows for mundane things too: televised teachers awards, and best grocery store clerk, best supporting janitor, best female lead in a blue collar job, best male nurse. I bet the acceptance speeches would be twice as powerful.

The Lauren System

Don't have a dryer but your clothes are wrinkled? Need to be at a job interview in one hour? Can't iron your synthetic sweater? Tired of all those pesky wrinkles? Well, you're in luck. Try the new Lauren system! All you need is a hair dryer. Yes, you heard right! A hair dryer. Pop that sweater on. Hold it taught. And blow dry your sweater. Your clothes will still be wrinkled, but almost imperceptibly so! They will look like they got wrinkled while you were wearing them!

I'm lonely, but not when I'm alone. Being alone feels so good. I haven't really had much alone time after having lived in a little tiny hallway for 5 months. However when I am around people I feel really lonely. I don't get it.

The cell phone

I have a cheap cell phone from AT&T. I pay $70 a month for a "cheap" plan. What a joke. I bought a phone that was cheap. I don't want a phone that can browse the internet, or take pictures, or one that I can listen to music on, or scratch my ass or fix my sink when it's broken. I just want the damn thing to ring and frankly it doesn't do that very well. Sometimes it just doesn't ring, sometimes is doesn't alert me to text messages. What do I do? Make my own cell phone? The worst of it is that my old cell phone that was four years old never had a single problem. I finally gave it up when the battery started to die on me. Now this cell phone isn't even gonna last a year. Sucks.

One of these days I'm gonna give up the cell phone. I hate them anyway. What am I gaining from it besides a bill? Probably cancer.

Dear Everyone,

Please don't interrupt me when I am obviously doing something. Right now I might murder your face off.

Thanks.

Love,

Lauren

My plans

Everyone has been asking me what I am going to do now that I am home. My only answer- I don't know. Lame. But long term I don't know, but here are my plans for next week.

Give myself one more week of rest before applying for jobs.

While resting I will do the following:

• Dig through storage and find nice clothes to interview in.
• Start exercising again. Not my demons, but my ass.
• Plan to start a new PMDD friendly diet. Goodbye junk food. It was fun while it lasted.
• Research teaching jobs and substitution gigs.
• Look up volunteer programs for Outreach Youth and Adult Literacy.

I'm going to try to avoid social visits as much as possible this week because they are extremely exhausting. I have no idea why, but interacting with people floors me. I guess I am just out of practice. Maybe when I start exercising I will have more energy.

After that who knows.

My Lunar New Year's Resolution

Smile at everybody as much as possible, everywhere I go.

Ladies and Gentlemen

Hong Kong was great. I have never been so pleasantly surprised by a destination. We had a handful of things we wanted to do, yet coming and going from those particular events we found tons of other stuff that was awesome. One second you are walking in the middle of huge city with skyscrapers and traffic all around, then half a block away there is a huge park and everything is green and beautiful and quiet, with aviaries, and greenhouses, and ponds, and waterfalls, and lots of other fun stuff to explore. When you come out of that park and you think there will be no more parks you walk another half block along the busy street and there is another one. The harbor and the skyline, day or night, was beautiful. The people were really friendly, there was a lot, a lot of English speakers. If you got lost it was a breeze to find someone who could tell you where you needed to be. There were also a great many signs in English to all kinds of parks and piers and whatnot. All in all fabulous. If you ever get the opportunity you must go.

I have hundreds of pictures on flickr. Check them out.

And then....

It snowed in Austin. Can you believe that shit? It snowed 2 inches yesterday.

Just the sight of it pissed me off.

Now it is sunny and the high is 52.

So tired

I'm tired. I'm tired of being tired. I'm tired of not getting any restful sleep. I'm tired of waking up every hour. It sucks.

I just want some sleep already.

Cranky.

I'm back in Austin

I do love it so, but I wish it would cut me some slack and show me some sun.

Grubb was less than pleased when I got home. He basically ignored me for about an hour and then scratched on Kyle's front door. That's Grubb speak for, "Yeah, bitch you're home. So what. Let's get the fuck out of here." He is softening up though. He never was the most affectionate. Sluggs however is sending me over the moon with all his love and attention. I laid down on the floor to talk to MP on the Skype so I used Sluggs as a pillow. I swear I haven't been that comfortable in months. (The carpeted floor is more comfortable than a Korean bed. No lie.)

Kyle went out of town so I am house sitting/ dog watching for the next four days. It's a good thing because nobody would tolerate my horrible hours. I woke up at 4 this morning. Wait, but that isn't the worst part. The worst part is that I didn't go to bed until 2 in the morning. This was my first night of sleep after the 20 plus hour migration. So I have basically had no more than two hours of sleep at a time since Thursday. I figure I will crash soon enough. I wish I could record myself. A recent discovery has been made that when Laurens are really exhausted they talk in their sleep.

I have Hong Kong stories. I loved it. But not now. I can tell that I'm really tired because I feel like I have been on a boat, only I haven't. I can't sleep though. It sucks. It makes my brain like soup.

Off to raid Kyle's fridge!

Appreciation

Korea has made me appreciate the U.S. Here are some things I really enjoy about the U.S.

• The fresh air.
• The space, my god. Personal space sounds so good.
• The food. Mostly BBQ.
• English. I can't tell you how excited I am to understand what everyone tells me.
• Dr. Pepper. I hardly drink it when I'm in the U.S., but today I cracked one open (you can buy them at Costco) and it made me think of hot summer days and childhood trips to the lake.
• Soft comfortable beds.
• Hot summer days, cool summer nights. I hear they have them here too, only I haven't seen any.

Damn, I can't wait for spring.

Resume

I need a job soon. Really, really soon. Only two more weeks here on the other side of the world. So I have come up with a list of my strengths. Let me know if you know of any jobs that I qualify for.

• Can think up stupid shit at the drop of a hat: jokes, usually fruitless ideas, you name it.
• Bossy
• Cranky
• Can find anything you misplace. Feel free to wake me up and ask me where you put your keys, glasses, schedule, etc. Anything that I don't use or keep tabs of, I can find.
• I know the words to a lot of songs.
• High reading comprehension.
• Can make almost anyone feel uncomfortable. Unless said person is a strange man, then I usually end up saying something inappropriate, then they give me a gross turned on look and then I get uncomfortable. Who do you know that can make themselves uncomfortable? Talent. That's what I have.
• Can forget almost anything.
• Let's put cranky on here twice just so you know I wasn't kidding.
• Can get almost anywhere on time.

Ask a question, any question.

I'm pretty sure that MP doesn't believe a single word I say.

I have no idea why. But whatever I say he tells me he doesn't think so and that he needs to look it up. Then sitting in the apartment he makes a noise of astonishment and then proceeds to read exactly what I told him 10 minutes earlier like it was the first time he heard it. No matter what. You would think that I lie to him all the time. If I don't know I tell him I don't know. I say it all the time. I don't know a ton of stuff. Even if I think my sources are sketchy I say that I think such and such, but I'm not sure.

At this point I just figure he is asking questions just to say them out loud, basically talking to himself. Because, I know he doesn't want my answer. He's such a jerk.