Momism: I'm Watching You. Oh Wait. Maybe I'm Not. Shoot.

You know that feeling when you sit in a chair so long that your butt feels taken advantage of? Not pleasant. Also, I think my butt is getting dented from sitting so often... and you thought certain things just were not possible. Ha. I laugh at your ignorance.

Well, I got that horrible butt feeling, so I decided to take a little break and call mama bear. Yeah. Here you go:

Me: Hi muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuummy! (I like to sound British sometimes. I also like bah-gels.)
Mindel: Hi bubby. Did you know that my computer can search for an address and see the street???
Me:You mean like on Google Maps? Where you can get a picture view?
Mindel: Yes! Lauren, I didn't know my computer could do that.
Me: My computer can do it too, Mom. It's a website. All computers with internet can use the site...
Mindel: Oh. Well, still, it's amazing! But it was so weird because I was talking to the guy I am going on a date with tomorrow and I looked up his house. I saw a red car in the picture view and asked him if there was a red car in front of his house, but he said no. And...
Me: Wait, wait, wait. Mom, do you think the image is live? Like you are looking at his house right now?
Mindel: Yes. Isn't it? If there isn't something filming it right now, then how could I possibly see it?
Me: Jesus Christ.

Technology Sometimes You Rock That Germ Filled Bubble I Live In

Usually, technology sends me through a hellish torpedo of stupidity and insulting images of Sarah Chalke (she just really pisses me off), but there are moments when I turn into a seventh grader going through puberty and wanna scam on technology like it was Taylor Hanson serenading me with Mmm-Bop. What? That's a solid fantasy, yo.

The divine recognition of my bordering on creepy appreciation for all that is associated with the future came from something I would fall in love with if I were that person who loves inanimate objects (tried to find the psychological term but I couldn't, so now I am the girl who has "people who fall in love with inanimate object" in my search bank): my recognition came from a Red Box. Red Box is technology at its best i.e. it serves cheap lazy people like me.

How the Red Box humping goes down: It's a bright and beautiful day in sunny San Diego. Perfect day for a walk in the park or swim in the ocean. F-that punks. Skin cancer and shark bites are for broke ass hoes, I stay in bed to  watch my 10 inch TV  and collect cookie crumbs in my cleavage like a real woman. No honestly, if I were murdered in my bed during the weekend (knock on wood) the po po's wouldn't need tape because my body would be outlined by food crumbs. Back off my nuts Jake Gyllenhaal, I know you want my sexay bodday. I digress. As soon as I get tired of watching the 11 channels available, I decide to turn to a movie.

Due to my psychopathic need to have a five foot no entry circle around me and remain in the same food stained clothing (and I use that term lightly), Blockbuster is just out of the question. Dun da dun dun! RED BOX i.e. the reason unicorns fart rainbows. All I have to do is go to one of the 65 Seven-Eleven's in my neighborhood and pay $1(!) for a beautiful machine to poop a movie. Also, then I can go into Seven and buy a gargantuan coke, WHICH, by the way, comes with a free sausage biscuit. Don't eat it. There is a chance you might prematurely lose an internal organ.

Wow. I can't believe I wrote this much about Red Box. I need to get my life together.

Momism: Can Anybody Hear Me???

This one time, in Rome, you know, because I am so worldly and classy and shit like that, I spent two weeks trying to figure out the movie this line is from: "Is anybody out there (echo  echo echo)? Can anybody hear me?" I literally spent two weeks SEARCHING 2006 Google (faaar less superior to 2011 Google) trying to find this goddamn line. Surprisingly, my nifty brain dug through the hot mess I have stored up there and found the answer, which is Titanic. I really don't know where I was going with this story. I think it was supposed to be an intro to my Momism, but it doesn't really work, except for the Titanic line. Perhaps I just wanted to brag about my trip to Rome. Yeah that's probably it. Because I am that type of person.

Voicemail on my Cellphone from Mindel:

Lauren, are you there? I am at the store and I have a question about the pearl necklace you want *mind out of gutter*. Laureeeeeeeeeen. Pick up the phone. Caaaaaaaan you hear me? Heeeeeeeeello! Dammit Lauren I know you are there...(to the store clerk) I know she hears me, she just wont pick it up.

Ummm, yeah. I don't know if you know this mom but I cannot hear your message while you are leaving it on my cellphone. No worries. I'll just blog about it.

How I Will Ruin My Credit Score Beyond Repair

I am a sucker for a good deal. Or a bad deal. Or pretty much anything that makes me think I am getting something for free. For instance, it seriously takes so much strength to not take food from other peoples room service carts. C'mon, there was a whole UNTOUCHED pancake left...perfectly okay. Free pancake for a 50% chance of getting a most likely curable disease. Worth it.

Just begging me to eat it.

Another wonderful example is my arch nemesis Target, which hits me where it hurts (left boob) every time. Target has this awesome program where you get a $5 gift card when you purchase far too much of one crappy product. Today I bought 4 deoderants, 8 boxes of tampons, and 6 packages of soap, just to get $5 back. I looked like the girl who always has her period and has HORRIBLE body odor because my woman hormones are all Randy Quaid crazy. Stop giving me the stank eye Kimberly the Cashier. I do what I want.

However, I have found my kryptonite; the thing that is going to make me curl up into a ball and sing Celine Dion songs until my ears bleed. Chase Freedom. A credit card with a cash back and bonus point program. Freedom my fat dimply ass. This credit card is something that I like to call plastic death or compare to that time I thought I was buying a really awesome antique table on e-bay only to be delivered a small box with dollhouse furniture. Buries head in shame. ALL I WANT TO DO IS EARN POINTS. I am obsessed. I have researched the products that give me double, triple and quadruple points and cannot stop. My heart is palpatating just thinking about earning more points.

Picture not true to size. For reals, homeboi.

Basically, I ordered subscriptions to magazines I never heard of (did you know there are magazines about knitting?), had flowers delivered to myself and purchased MORE tampons from drugstore.com because they give me more points. Soooooooo, I spent $400 thus far just so I can earn, wait for it, waaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiit for it, 1,500 points or the equivalent of $15 dollars towards a flight.

Winner winner chicken dinner, bitches.

April Suck It Fool

Why I hate today:

2005

Doctor Ovary Face: Well, looks like you have crabs.
Me: WHAT?! I thought you have to have sex to get that...my mom's going to kill me.
Doctor Ovary Face: April Fools!
Me: I hate your dirty doctor face.

1989

Grandma: Michael Jackson is a woman.
Me: Really? I thought so.
Grandma: Yep.
(two years later)
Grandma: April fools!

Definitely explains why I had friend instead of friends.

2008

Boss: We need you to come in at 5am tomorrow?
Me: April Fools!
Boss: Huh?
Me: April fools?!
Boss: No.

This holiday sucks a fatty because I will believe anything you tell me and will get beyond excited about it. But, I like to think of this as an endearing quality because it just shows how much faith I have in people. Right? Right? JUST GO WITH IT.