Help Me!

Hi Friends!

LOOK WHAT I DID! I signed up to walk for the AVON 39- The Walk to End Breast Cancer! LOOK AT THIS FANCY LOGO!

AVON_LOGO_39-THE-WALK-TO-END-BC_Horz_M100_CMYK_F

Pretty, huh? To actually be able to participate in this 2-day, 39.3 mile walk, I need to raise $1,800. Now, I haven’t fundraised for anything since Jump Rope for Heart in 3rd grade, so I need your help! Even if you can contribute just $5, it would be a HUGE help to me. I want to tribute my walk in honor of family members that have both lost and beat their battle with various cancers. If you donate, and I raise enough money to participate, I’ll be happy to write anyone’s name (of your choosing) on my shirt. I’ll post my super grungy pictures right here for you to seer your eyes out with!

PLEASE CLICK HERE TO DONATE!

The sooner I reach my goal, the sooner I’ll stop hounding you, my darlings.

THANK YOU SO MUCH! GO WASH YOUR TOES!

xoxo

ICE CREEEAAAAAAM & Death!

Hey Kids!

ICE CREAM! YAAAAY! Last week I bought ice cream at the store and forgot it was in the freezer. In a fit of hunger I nearly ripped the door off and saw my little vanilla beauty staring back at me. I’m très happy.

I’m also très happy because I finished Season 2 of Six Feet Under and onto Season 3. I get sad when I start a new season because the coloring and cinematography is different. it’s usually on the 3rd season too, I’m assuming because at that point DEY GOT MORE MUNNEEEEY. Also the amount of A list celebs that show up in the cast is unnerving. heheheh.

In other news, I forgot I had an iPad. I remember why I forgot I had it because it’s a first generation and cannot handle updates past iOs 5.1.1.  This means virtually (hehe) all your games and other apps cannot update and most apps cannot function without said updates. Therefore, the slab of metal and microchips is USELESS. It’s sad. Here’s a sad face. :(

Okay, while I was writing this I ate all my ice cream. Do I get more? Check one: Yes or Yes.

GOODNIGHT I LOVE YOU EAT YOUR VITAMINS!

There’s No Food in the House

Very sparingly do I go food shopping. When I do it’s just a flash of me running around Market Basket at 8:57pm on a Wednesday and shoving frozen, microwaveable green beans into my Cynthia Rowley (Marshall’s, amiright?) roll-y bag. The green beans are my vegetable source and Pepe’s 99-cent cheese ravioli is my super source of protein. For fruits I smell my Red Apple Wreath Yankee Candle. I’m sure there are plenty more food groups but I choose not to acknowledge them in fear that I’m either significantly malnourished and horrifically overindulgent depending on which group we examine.

My current status is hot chocolate which only comes after the five pieces of toast and three cups of vegetable soup I slaved over (it was prepackaged but I added the tomato sauce [we didn’t have stewed or diced] and stirred it lovingly).

I also took a shower for the first time in three days. Nothing perks a woman up like the sound of her Irish Spring body wash spurting onto her questionably old loofah. I’m sure there’s a replacement date suggested on the tag but it’s still the same color as when I bought it (I imagine). The shower was a couple hours ago and I still haven’t lotioned any crevice of my body. I’m typing and skin flakes are flurrying around my keyboard as my dry knuckles hammer up and down. If I lived in one of those allergy protection bubbles, I’d make a real killing on my side act as human snow globe. Très dramatic as I’m listening to the king of depression, Bobby Vinton. Real Lifetime movie material. WOO.

Anyways, time to go straighten my hair. I can smell my 450 degree flat iron burning into my dresser. The scent of old burning hair really helps me sleep at night.

OKAY GOODNIGHT 143

And Then She Went to the Hospital!

I bet you’ve been checking your inboxes frantically wondering where I’ve been and why I haven’t been bitching about my Oprah Magazine not arriving yet (but it did, so yay!)

My eyeballs have had a weird, rashy, burnt, allergic-ky thing going on for the last 3 months, only to be made worse when I smeared Gold Bond Ointment all over them and burned the rest of my burnt skin off. It all came to an unsightly head when last Saturday my face swelled shut and I had to go to the ER. THANKFULLY, they prescribed me STEROIDS! Here is a reenactment of what happened:

                

That cart was full of all the steroids for me! Yum, yum, yum, crunch, crunch, crunch!

Anyways, today was the last day of the steroids, so we’ll see if me throwing away all my down comforters and furry blankets really solved the problem or if I’m just one of those people who one day woke up and decided they would be allergic to their own hair.

Pray for me, my children.

During the  experience, I found out that Zantac helps against allergic reactions! This is great because my diet is pure acid so I’m really killing two birds with 10lbs of western medicine. I think that’s how the phrase goes.

Well, I’ve taken enough Benadryl to skleeeerzzzppbuarewoberp. TIME FOR BED!

More less-medicated updates to come!

Love you, xoxox, take out the trash already you animal.

Am I a Forty-Four Year Old Woman?

I’ve compiled a list of things I do/have done/think that have lead me to believe that I am really a middle-aged woman. 

1) Subscribing to a wellness magazine.

2) That wellness magazine is Oprah’s “O” Magazine.

3) Enjoying a nice Julia Roberts film on a week night.

4) Started calling TV shows “programs”. Hey, have you ever seen that Everybody Love Raymond program?

5) Loud noises, please stop. Turn down the TV. Turn the radio off. SHUT UP.

6) I’ve spent  half my paycheck on various scents and sizes at The Yankee Candle Factory.

7) I keep a pack of Sucrets stashed in my car. And my purse. And my bra.

8) Gloria Estefan, amiright?

9) “I just think dressing conservatively is more tasteful.” -A statement I’ve made.

10) 8 o’clock bedtime! Let me just finish my glass of Turning Leaf!

Amen xoxox.

O’ Oprah, Where Art Thou?

A couple months ago I signed up for the Oprah “O” Magazine subscription. I haven’t received a magazine yet, so here are some reasons I have pondered as to why Oprah hasn’t stuffed herself into my mailbox.


5 REASONS WHY I HAVEN’T RECEIVED MY “O” MAGAZINE YET

1) They are publishing the magazine in hardcover JUST FOR ME! Oh Oprah, you shouldn’t have. <3

2) The person processing my account fell asleep on top of my paperwork and drooled all over it. My name and address become illegible and they had no way of contacting me because my information was all wet and smudgy.

3) I never actually subscribed to it because I forgot but somehow convinced myself that I did and I guess I’ll just be angry and sulky for all of eternity. HIGHLY UNLIKELY THOUGH.

4) A rat got stuck in the conveyor belt and jammed up all the printers but the big wigs are Harpo are trying to do damage control and cover the incident up. But will they succeed?

5) Paper has been outlawed! Word hasn’t spread to Massachusetts yet and we’re still over here disregarding rations and flagrantly waving our contraband about. WHO WILL STOP US? WHO WILL PUT AN END TO IT ALL?

Do you have any theories on my missing magazines?

Anyways, that’s all I’ve come up with. I went ahead and bought the issue with Oprah and the big lion on the front because I was not going to let that opportunity pass me by.

Nightnight byebye don’t let the bed bugs steal your girlfriend xoxo

Club Dread / 50 Things

This week in Lauren is Having an Unprovoked Dilemma, I have been waking up with an utter sense of dread and despair. Is it because I realized that I have wasted time not loving One Direction until I saw their New Years Eve performance? I DUNNO, but it’s there and near palpable when sitting in the same room as me. Some other culprits could be withdrawal of chocolate because I haven’t had my usual 20lbs OR it could be expectation hangover from watching a series of celebrity documentaries.

To ease the discomfort, I’m currently watching Notting Hill, eating my fourth snack (croutons), and remembering that I haven’t done laundry in 3 weeks. To ease any future discomforts, I bought an emergency stash of How to Train Your Dragon macaroni and cheese. I bought a backup box of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle ones just in case.

To balance the physical healing with some emotional healing, I’ve taken the advice of a great abundance teacher (www.luckybitch.com) and have listed 50 things I accomplished in 2014. I’ll share some of my favorite on the list.

PLEASE SHOW ME YOURS BECAUSE I LOVE YOU. 

  1. Left two jobs I hated.
  2. Joined a job I love.
  3. Got a second tattoo with one of my best friends.
  4. Saw the Rockets at Radio City Musical Hall in NYC on opening weekend.
  5. Went to California (and Coachella) for the first time. Also rented a shit car and got to drive around Palm Springs with my friends.
  6. Saw OutKast perform B.O.B. live.
  7. Finished The X-Files and Twin Peaks. Started Six Feet Under.
  8. Got published for the first time (on McSweeney’s!).
  9. Went to Colorado for the first time and sat on a stuffed jackelope.
  10. Got a first edition, signed copy of Lena Dunham’s “Not That Kind of Girl” and got to see Miranda Karr interview her live.
  11. Went to the Boston Music Awards and saw my brother’s band perform (and win awards!)
  12. Got to see Robyn in concert (and was overcome by my emotions and sobbed/laughed hysterically at the same time).
  13. Let go of a secret I had been keeping.
  14. Went to a male strip club for the first time and got the ones ripped out of my hands by those renegades.
  15. Had no shame and went as VIP to the Miley Cyrus Bangerz Tour.

HOORAY! Tell me all the cool things you did because this is the internet and we can do that!

Do you have any resolutions for 2015? Any regrets from 2014 (why would you, that’s a waste of time!)? TELL ME EVERYTHING!

Okay, have a lovely night and don’t forget to floss after every meal. xoxoxox

I Guess I Should Talk About My Resolutions

It’s that time of year again where we all puff out our waxed and buffed chests and scribble our noble resolutions in cherry scented Mr. Sketch markers for everyone to see and sniff! Amiright?

Last year I only made one resolution, which was to say “yes” to more opportunities… even if I wasn’t 100% on going/doing/whatevering them. It worked out pretty well, aside from me saying “yes” to a Nordstrom Credit Card and “yes” to the $300 Classique Entier jacket and “yes” to the cashier when she asked if I wanted to use my Triple Points.

Buuuuuut I also said “yes” to my lovely new car and “yes” to quitting my unfulfilling job and “yes” to moving out of my childhood home and “yes” renting my first apartment.

                                     Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. yes.

I have no recollection of 2013. I think it was a year of stillness: Going to a mind numbing job everyday, coming home and sitting on my couch for the rest of the night, and growing unhealthier in mind, body, and spirit by the second. 2014 was the year of watching The X-Files and Twin Peaks and The Sopranos. A lot of healing through binge watching television shows. In 2014 I also stopped being completely sedentary and upgraded to walking to the garbage can to throw  my chocolate wrappers away instead of leaving them all over my chest for my mother to brush off. Thanks Ma!

Play that chocolate like a harmonica, baby.

For 2015 I think it’s time to be a more proactive and forthright with my writing goals and getting more pieces published. I know what I want and what I can achieve but I just don’t apply the effort. I’m still not done with The Sopranos and I just started Six Feet Under, so I might have to take a HBO On Demand hiatus and work on my shit instead of the other way around. I wonder if I’m either the antithesis or the prime example of a young, anxious writer. I psych myself out of writing on certain topics because I think “why would anyone want to read this?” Meanwhile, I’m on the most butthole boring websites until 2AM, reading anything I can.

    Here I am enjoying my morning coffee after 3 hours of sleep.

I also think I’ll be giving more. I never really understood how much I was supported until I moved out of my house. I can work myself up in a tizzy worrying about protecting my money, while completely ignoring the fact that just like most things, there’s an ebb and flow. You have to be willing to release to receive.

Also, I’ll be proofreading my posts before I submit them. HOORAY!

SO, my pretty little babies…What are your resolutions, goals, and/or dreams for 2015? I WANNA KNOW!

Okay, love you forever remember not to stick your hand down the disposal!

My Eyeballs are Flaking Off

Hello Children of the Corn!

I’m an idiot. This may not come as a surprise to some of you (most of you [all of you]) but I’ve nearly burnt my eyes off my face. Some would say it’s a rash but I’d describe it more as a “severe, grotesque, chemical burn from Satan himself.”

It’s not really my eyeballs but my eyelids have grown reptilian. A cross between the X-Files “Office Monster” and a hot shedding snake. Every time I blink it feels like my eyelids are little window shades made of sunburns.

Being the medical GENIUS that I am, I decided to prescribe myself generous doses of GoldBond Anti-Itch Cream to be applied directly to my broken and dry eyelids. To really ease the pain of burning and irritated skin, add menthol and hydrocortisone directly to the infected area and put your head between your legs. You’ll be fine and great*.

(*No.)

A lovely lady at Nordstrom slapped some $300 La Mer cream on my face in order to heal my self-inflicted 3rd degree burns. Apparently it was made by a mad scientist who had a kelp fetish and liked to heat it up in his microwave and rub it on his burns. Now Jennifer Anniston rubs it on her face so she can no longer age because the cream has a time-halting curse on it. I’m really into facts about important things.

I ended up accepting a doctor’s appointment at 8:15AM which I always seem to do because I am afraid to tell the receptionist that I need 14 hours of sleep and can’t possibly be up any time before brunch. I always make time for brunch. I did not make take for brunch at 8:15AM when the doctor was telling me to avoid any heavy creams with menthol and hydrocortisone in them. Whoops. Now I’m smearing lactic acid on my eyes and in a shocking turn of events it’s supposed to burn the dry burnt skin away.

Well, it’s time to go put some acidic moo-juice on my eyes and rest peacefully in my slumber. Pray for me.