CHRISTMAASSSSSS

Christmas is coming! It’s almost here! HOORAY!

Christmas Eve is my fricken favorite. It’s warm and glowy in my house and lovely. Also lots of snacks. I really love snacks. Crackers, cheese, salami, pepperoni, pizza, nachos, ALL OF IT. And all on Christmas Eve. Christmas day was great in the morning because PRESENTS (!!!) but it always made me sad when it was over. When it’s just me and my snacks though, time stands still.

In other news, today is Keira Knightley Night. So was yesterday. Also everyday last week. Sorry to all my Pinterest followers who now have 563 pictures of Keira plastered all over their timelines. Keira forever. Long live the Knightley. Tonight’s Keira Knightley Night was “Last Night.” hehehe.

I almost ralfed on my desk this morning, so I feel better now that I’m on my couch eating 20lbs of ravioli and finishing up Christmas cards. I’ll be posting the photos on Christmas Eve as to not ruin the surprise of the card recipients.

OKAY, KIDS. WHAT’S ON YOUR CHRISTMAS LIST THIS YEAR?! I want an XBox Live subscription.

k love you don’t forget to brush your hair to the right.

SHOWCASE! And Other Emotions.

Hey kittens!

I’m pretty sure it’s only been two days but it’s felt like an eternity since we last looked longingly into our computer screens at one another’s words and stuff.

Fitting, as George Michael’s “Kissing a Fool” is playing in the background. *kisses screen* Is this weird? Shh, I don’t care. Turn down that backlight while I slip into something more comfortable. *sets up gel wrist cushions to prevent tendonitis*.

Anyways, I’ve been really sick the past few days. There’s a Steve Martin quote from his book “Born Standing Up” that talks about how before preforming an important show the nerves you get as a performer can fight off weight gain and illness, yet 24 hours after you’ve finished the show, you succumb to complete exhaustion and flu-like symptoms.

I’m flu-like symptoms. Hold me. Brush my hair. Tell me I look fine with braces.

But look, I kept my promise! I attached a picture of my gems and footwear that I wore at my showcase.

Why yes, those are RingPop shoes with a a bejeweled RingPop necklace.

Apparently the gummy bear knuckle ring was sparkling so brightly that 3 people in the audience were blinded. There might be a class action suit against me but I don’t really know because I make things up.

Being in the green room was fun. Although I sounded like a clydesdale hoofing it up and down the stairs in the RingPop shoes. There was a lot of excited and nervous energy, but I started getting distracted and I could tell the order of my jokes was running away  down the street to the restaurant I knew I’d be eating at after. I had to stand in a corner and face the wall and shout my jokes at the water heater to make sure they didn’t order a salad over the French onion soup. I ended up getting both later, but that’s besides the point.

The theme of my set was babies. Terrible, terrible babies. I felt a little cliche being a ladygirl and talking about all those darn babies that ruin her life. I have better premises, but there are some that I want to spend more time on because they are like my children (not babies though, gross) and I want to nurture them with PopTarts and watch them grow.

But I did well! Minus blanking when I got up on stage! But that’s okay, because my dress had pockets that I nervously shoved my set list in, along with some granola bar crumbs and a straw wrapper.

I changed a lot of my jokes last minute because I wasn’t feeling 100% behind my material (Even though I had 2 months to prepare. I get a sick pleasure out of torturing myself by doing things last minute. And by last minute I mean changing jokes while I’m pacing in the hall waiting to go on.)

I also didn’t tighten the mic stand because I have marshmallow arms. It started to slowly get lower and lower, so I looked like a troglodyte hunching over the big noise boom stick.

But yay!

This was something I always wanted to do, and the only thing I’ve really cared about consistently. I can play about one and a half songs on every instrument known to creation. I’m decent at roller derby. I can brush my cat really well so she doesn’t get hair balls. But stand-up is my favorite thing and has been since elementary school. In my head I have a reputation of being the crazy girl who shows up to everybody’s comedy shows (famous or local) and has a big goofy smile and eyeballs popping out of her face. I’m not crazy just so excited it that it looks crazy. “My Heart Will Go On” just came on the radio. I think that’s a sign that shows my intentions are as pure as a sweaty palm print in a Renault Type CB Coupe de Ville.

Yoouuuu’re heerrre…therreee’s NOOOOTHIN’ I FEEAAR.

Oh shit, my favorite song (“Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’) came on after that. This the best day ever. Dance children, DANCE.

Alright, maybe there is a tinge of whacka-doo, but those are great songs and you know it.

Have a great night, and until next time my little PopSharts!

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What the Hell Does LoloKirby Mean?

Blog Challenge- Day 18!

What is the meaning behind my blog name, you ask?

Well friends, the gist of it is that I’m a crazy person with an identity crisis.

It may come as a shock to you, but my first name is Lauren. (Take a breath, it’s bombshell I know, but we’ll get through this).

But yes, it’s true! Only again, crazy lady, I don’t really respond to it. I realized that no one really says my name. Even I don’t say my name. I’m called a variety of nicknames, the most popular being “Lolo,” which has now evolved into “Loli” (low-lee) to some. It’s the only nickname that resembles “Lauren” so I figured it’d take it for a spin around the WordPress block. Toot toot.

As for the Kirby part, it’s my middle name! I think it was my paternal grandmother’s maiden name. A lot of men in the family have it. I don’t know of the other girls. I wonder what the hell that’s all about.

Now I’m going to have to consult the family tree and talk to my ancestral mystics about that.

**

In other news, tomorrow is my showcase!

Shouldn’t you be studying your lines?

Yes.

Then why aren’t you?

BECAUSE I’M BLOGGING AND EATING ICE CREAM, JESUS. GET OFF MY BACK, MAN.

Fine, I didn’t want a piggy back ride anyways.

See what I did there?

No?

Alright fine.

Time to go study lines so I don’t suck really bad tomorrow! I’ll post the shoes I’ll be wearing. You don’t want to miss these puppies.

Until next time, my little toaster strudels!

I Have a Bruised Ass

Hey WordPressians! I think this post might be full of profanity, so buckle up barf-breaths!

Friday I went to roller derby tryouts and fell on my ass a whole bunch. By “a whole bunch” I mean a fuck-ton. That’s like a regular ton, but with each fall the “fuck” you scream as you land on your tail bone gets louder and more aggressive.

I can’t walk from all the squatting and skating and falling and dying, so I’ve been laying in bed with my cat, Maisy. She says hi.

In other news, I haven’t washed my sheets in a few weeks because I’m gross. Maisy says it smells like shit in here, so I’m thinking I might open a window and spray some Febreze on my bed until I can make it down to the laundry room.

I also bought a new notebook to write all my dysfunctions in. Here is a quote from Thursday, which I found to be a particularly raw moment. There was a lull at work.

Thursday: “I’m fucking dysfunctional today because I’m thirsty and it’s cold outside. I just want to fucking leave. I’m thirsty as fuck and I want an iced tea. I can’t wait to have a soda later but I’m irritated because glasses keep slipping of my goddamn face and my fucking hands are sticky, and I don’t even know why. I just want an Oreo smoothie and peace the fuck out and read a book and drink a coke.”

Charming and coherent. But I believe in the expelling of negative energy into a notebook before having a meltdown in public. I have my own minor internal tantrums, so it’s nice to get them out before I talk to you darlings (or before I drive my car through a Denny’s).

Until then kids, I hope you’re having a lovely weekend with your supple, non-bruised, sweet little asscheeks.