LAST CALL! (Don’t make me beg.)

Hi Zuchinni puffs,

I’m turning to you. 

THIS SATURDAY I am signed up to walk in Boston’s Avon 39 Walk to End Breast Cancer. I have to raise $1800 to participate. I’m currently at $1609.

I NEED YOUR HELP! I’m less than $200 away from my goal and I have ONE DAY.

If you have a credit card and you can part with $5 (minimum requirement for donating for some reason) or more, I will smooch your face and write you a poem. Every single dollar counts, especially now. 

SO! If you see this and you think it’s weird to donate to someone you don’t know, well HEY it’s weird to ask strangers for money so you can walk 39 miles.  AND YOU CAN REMAIN ANONYMOUS IF YOU SO CHOSE! 

Clicky the linky belowy for my Avon donation page.

Lauren’s Donation Page!

Clicky the linky abovey, Avon calling, just kidding it’s me.

And if you’re reading this and you’re thinking “eh, she’ll get it in time, my donation won’t matter” WELL SIR OR MADAM, that is not true! I have been at a stand still for the last few days. Don’t engage in bystander effect! I could be dead in the road by now! 

Hehe. Also thank you to everyone on here who has donated. It’s so much appreciated! Smooch smooch smooch.

If you have any questions, please comment and I will kiss you and answer you and kiss you again. 

Okay. I LOVE YOU. GOOD NIGHT! DON’T PUT TOO MUCH OLIVE OIL ON YOUR KALE CHIPS!

I finally finished Six Feet Under and now I’m depressed.

I don’t know where to go from here. I finished the X-Files, Twin Peaks, The Sopranos, and now I’m just sitting here just me and my acid reflux gurgling at the blank TV screen. I started the L Word but I think I accidentally ruined the series for myself by, you know, being on the internet. WAH. I’ve watched a few True Detective episodes but they fricken mumble everything so I have to watch it on full volume with the closed captioning on. I’m also caught up on the Walking Dead.

If you have any suggestions for my next big adventure, please LET ME KNOW.

In other news, I got a pH strip put under my tongue and it nearly disintegrated in my mouth. With a diet of coffee and onion bagels, I can’t imagine why. I’m told if I eat more “vegetables” than it would even out. I might just eat more pH strips and see what happens.

In other, other news, I finally got into my alma maters literary journal. I think it might have been a pity publish but I’ll take it. I’ll link it once it comes out officially. You could totally buy a hard copy too and have it as a treasure forever and think about me and kiss it and stroke its spine.

Okay, I’m tired, I’ve been sitting in the same spot for 4 hours.

K LOVE YOU BYE TOOT TOOT!

I’m You Can See Her Ribs From Here

While I’m waiting for my five new meditation apps to download, I thought I’d say hi. 

Today I went to brunch and ordered French toast. They were out of bread by the time the order was put in, so I had to opt for the next best light-brunch choice which was, you guessed it, a half rack of BBQ ribs. The artisanal potato salad and coleslaw paired well with my fourth mimosa. I also had a raspberry macaron which I can tell people on the internet so I don’t have to pronounce it. Mac-AH-Roan? Mac-AH-TACK? BIG-MAC? DADDY MAC WILL MAKE YA (JUMP! JUMP!)

After brunch, we stumbled out into daylight, hissed at the sun, and fell into the Legoland Store where we looked at all the stupid “girl” Legos which are giant mutant freaks compared to the small classic Legos. I almost barfed on the Lego key chains, and not because they had a JarJar Binks one, but because I don’t know how well the orange juice mixed with BBQ sauce. But yeah, also JarJar Binks. Maybe I should go back and stick my finger down my throat.

Anyways, my phone feels like it’s about to start a mini bonfire with itself, so I think my apps are ready. Namaste motherfluffers.

143kisskissSmoochdonttouchme

The face! The face! The face-is-on-fire!

Hey squeakers,

This weekend I went to an Ava Anderson party and charged shit-ton of stuff onto my credit card!

In short, Ava Anderson sells natural products for your big dumb face. We all know my big dumb face has been on fire for months because I’m allergic to something and it’s trying to kill me SO my big dumb face looked into my wallet and took out my credit card and gave it to a stranger so she could give me stuff that won’t burn my face off. SO YAY!

In other news, we (my roommate and I) came back from dinner and while walking through the parking lot of our apartment complex, we noticed our lights were on which we always shut off. Naturally, our next step was to stand outside our apartment with our ears pressed up the door, as if an intruder wouldn’t know to look through the peephole to see our faces smashed against the metal. We barged in, grabbed knives, I almost shit my pants because I had the pork chop for dinner, and then “cleared” all the rooms Walking Dead style. We’re still alive and I didn’t shit my pants. We were ready to slice and dice though. By the way, don’t throw us surprise parties.

Okay, it’s time for bed, I didn’t get my 300 hours of sleep this weekend so leave me alone gosh bye.

143

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