For some reason

I have a raging hard on for making this guy think that I am cool.  I do not get it.  This is just one of the many ways in which I am fucked up.  I just feel that it is obvious that I am smarter and funnier than him.  I need him to acknowledge that. Would that be so fucking difficult?  When somebody does think I am cool and wants to spend time with me I act like they have the plague.  David Sedaris said it, "I wouldn't want to marry anyone who would want to marry me."  I feel it.

When older men compliment me I like it more than when a younger, more attractive man does.  They say to me, without saying it, "I have seen so many bitches in my life, and still you stand out enough for me to take notice. I know a nice piece when I see one."

A friend told a story this weekend about calling her boyfriend crying and I had this pang of sadness from not having anybody I can call crying who is forced to listen because I have sex with them.  It has been working on me all weekend.  I don't have a single thing to cry about, except the fact that I don't have anybody to cry to.  That is so stupid.  It made me think of the time that Kyle was in Spain and I was delivering the paper.  I drove up on a curb and popped my tire at 3 in the morning.  I would have to change my tire and then finish my route because I had just started.  Instead of just doing that I made an international call on my cell phone to Kyle so I could sit on the curb and cry to somebody.  He didn't even seem the least bit bored with it and he had just woken up.  I wasn't even having sex with him because obviously our spacial situation didn't allow for that, and still he seemed genuinely upset that I was upset even though it was just a stupid tire.  How I managed to have such good people in my life is a mystery even to me.

So, officially, I'm a personal trainer.  It is very tiring.  I wish I had an official nap time.  And a don't train until 9pm time.  And an official don't go to work with no food at 3 when you work until 9 time.

Oh well.  The Black Keys concert is tomorrow.

Forging ever onward.

Exchange in the Ladies Room

Me: [washing my hands after peeing, looking in the mirror, fixing my dress (shown in previous post)]
Stranger: Oh. You must work out.
Me: I do.
Stranger: How old are you?
Me: 29
The stranger laughs (I have no idea what that laugh meant, maybe you are so young, maybe god to be 20 years younger.)
Me: How old are you?
Stranger: 49
Me: I'm a personal trainer.
Stranger: Ah.

Today

I am feeling very thankful for my body.  I know it won't always look or feel this good.  So I am trying to appreciate every second of it.  If somebody told me "You will be in the best shape of your life when you are 29", when I was a teenager, I would have laughed in their face.

Things I Think About

1. I wonder what people think of my life when they see my home.  In one very small section of my apartment I have a pin with the word "Diarrhea" on it, a dry erase board with some very nonsensical stuff and at the bottom (next to where the Diarrhea pin is propped up) it says "I have an insatiable hunger for food and masturbation. L.King", and a mobile dangling from the ceiling with pictures of naked women.  I think that  combination screams, "Normal people beware. Vanilla need not apply."

2.  Though it is clear to me that tall guy isn't into me (as it should have been the first time he didn't call me back) I did get a little something out of it.  I was reminded of Bukowski and some good music.  I laid in bed reading poems and listening to music at 4 in the morning. It made me feel a little of what I used to feel a lot.  Maybe it is inspiration.  Maybe it is a kinship to troubled people.  Maybe it is awe of talent.  Maybe it is the realization that I am a little different.

If you want a little taste:

Listen to this:




Read this:

Oh Yes

there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
than
too late. 

Charles Bukowski

Damn it.

I went out on a date with a guy I think is so fucking hot I can barely stand it.  I was really hoping that he was going to be dumb or a douche.  He isn't.  Actually talking to him and seeing him in daylight made matters way worse. I didn't think he could get any hotter.  The problem is he makes me think that he isn't that into me. Which probably means he isn't.  I'll have to let it go.

I'm trying to think of just one real stupid thing he said. For the life of me I can't. All I can think of are the funny things.  He didn't say one thing that was stupid? How can this be?  Did he just break my streak?

Real conversation

Friend: I think you are younger than you were when you were 21.
Me: I think you're right. I'm going backwards.

Dear Future Lauren,

Always, always, always take your Bucket to pee right before bed.

But if you don't and he wakes up at 4 in the morning needing to pee, and you can't go back to sleep, and your internet isn't working quite right and you are forced to read random files on your computer instead of stare into the darkness a little magic happens.  You are reminded that your statement of purpose for graduate school had beautiful imagery and that is probably why you got in.  You read the beginnings of a autobiographical piece that you started and that went no where probably because you thought it was shitty and a dead end,  is really good.  Really fucking good.  And so god damned open.  It's like a four way fucking stop and not the cul de sac that you thought it was.

You see a little of the amazing things you can do instead of all the shit that bogs you down.  You scroll through pictures from 2006.  You painted a hippopotamus, that is good, when you had never painted anything before.  You sculpt rabbits like they are realistic, with only a picture off the internet as a reference, not to mention clay you have never worked with before.

You are so funny.

A billion people wish they could have only one of your many good attributes.

Don't forget that you dumb bitch.

Love ya,

LK

Fun story

I am moving into a tiny apartment with a relative stranger. I met her in a bar about a month and a half ago.   It sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud.  But it feels good.  I'm just going with it.

TINY.

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.  

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

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

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 he or she 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:

This pretty much sums it up.

Nightmare of the century

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:

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

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:

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

I am destined to fail in this society.

Fridays with Mig

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

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.