Aging With Grace

How do you know that you are getting older? You start laughing so hard at one of YOUR own jokes and you pee your pants. Well, not a lot. But just enough to make you embarrassed by the fact that you are even posting this on the web.

Fancy pants.

P.S. Remind me to tell you about that time I legitimately peed ma pants when I was above the age of 5 and below the age of 20.

Real Friends are WAAAAAAY Better Than Imaginary Ones

Me: Rachel, I need to cut my hair. It keeps getting super knotted.
Rachel: Do you know why?
Me: Because it's long.
Rachel: No. Your hairs don't like eachother, so they keep beating one another up.

I thought this was by far the funniest thing she has have said. Then, I remembered this little jewel.

This is Rachel learning who won American Idol.

No one should expect me to be normal with a best friend like this and a mom like, well, you know.

Say Cheese! Not You Scalia...Say Formaggio

I am taking Current Issues in Constitutional Law this semester. My first assignment was to list 5 things I know about the Supreme Court. Ummm, when did Law School become Elementary School, dawg? Answer:

Obviously I had to google the Supreme Court as soon as I received this assignment. As I observed the plethora of photographs of the Justices, I noticed one thing: every photo looks like my elementary school class picture. So, I took the liberty of using Microsoft Office Paint to edit in that little faux whiteboard. Take that photoshop.

Check out Chief Justice Rehnquist in the center. Homeboy was obviously not on good terms with anyone that day or he just had an enema based on his knee clenching stance. Don't poo in the robe, Rehnquist!

Food for Thought: Parks and Recreation

On my deathbed, my final wish is to have my ex-wives rush to my side so I can use my dying breath to tell them both to go to hell one last time. - Ron Swanson

Does this count as studying for Community Property? Damn.

I Attract 3 Things

I attract 3 things:

1. Homeless people


2. Flying objects


3. Bees

Homeless People: I don't know what it is, but homeless people love me. To them, I am the garbage bin that contains the jackpot. It's like they automatically know that I am a sucker and will listen to whatever nonesense they have to tell me. Whether they are talking about the crackwhore that kicked 'em in the nutsack and stole their shoes or the true meaning of Cheese (Ch = chopped and Eese = chopped with ease), I listen and find their stories are well told and much more amusing than any law school lecture.

Flying Objects: It doesn't matter where I am, if there is something flying through the air it will most likely land on my head. I have been hit by a baseball, bird poop, an orange, a sandwich, a pigeon...you get the point. Weird thing is that I really don't care who has seen all of these embarrassing encounters between my head and objects. I just really hope that no one was aiming for my head. That would really suck.

Bees: People love to play the victim, BUT, I promise you that in no way am I trying to play the victim here. Bees are out to get me. They are part of the mafia and have a hit out on me. You think I am crazy? Well, then call me Anne Heche because this is TRUE. I have never been stung before and they know it or something. Within 6 months my apartment has had 3 beehives outside of it. Each beehive gets closer and closer to my room. If there is a bee outside, do you think it goes to a flower to pollinate it? NO. It tries to pollinate ME. Hence, I am left running in circles with my rolley backpack. So, Mr. Bee, I am onto you. Watch your step.

Inhaler's Were Cool, Right?

I should be doing my schoolwork, but I cannot get this giddy feeling of childhood out of my system. It feels like someone just let me loose on a batch of Pixi Stick straws. This happens every time I have to read or write for school...I let my mind wander off into the ever increasing distant memory of my childhood. You know, the simple days. When homework meant making sentences with weekly vocabulary words or expressing your present knowledge of a historical event through a diorama. Occasionally, I long for those days. I love the present and I thoroughly enjoy nesting in it, but sometimes it is so sweet to bask in the sugary memories of my peachy childhood. I was fascinated by everything and afraid of nothing. I had ridiculous aspirations and all I really wanted was a pink skirt and crimped hair. Here are some goodies that I can pull from my memory bank:

1. POGS!!! Yes, I had hundreds of pogs, as well as, the ridiculous accessories necessary for a praise worthy collection


2. Inhaler. No, I did not have asthma. No, I did not have an inhaler. Yes, I did pretend I had asthma and an inhaler. Why? Well, some of you may not remember the award-winner "Sidekicks," but that Johnathan Brandis/Chuck Norris karate movie MADE my childhood. And, if Johnathan Brandis had asthma in the movie, then I did in real life.


3. Pink skirt, puh-lease? The first memory I have of my mom getting angry with me is my memory of my 4th birthday. Every pre-schooler got to announce their birthday wish to the class on their birthday. On Feb. 23rd, it was my turn. I was so excited and on the way to school my mom asked me "what are you going to wish for, bubby?" Bubbling over with excitement, I told my mom I was going to wish for a pink skirt. Well, if you don't know what Jewish guilt is, here's a little lesson: "You are going to wish for a skirt? Lauren, I can't believe you. *shakes head* You are not even going to wish for your family's health. We love you so much, and you are going to pick a skirt over your family. You just really disappointed me." Hence, I wished for my family's health. My mom bought me the pink skirt, too.


4. Getting Kraft-y. I have always had a deep and well-rooted appreciation for cheese. My taste has been refined, of course, but when I was 5 I could down a package of Kraft singles in 20 minutes tops. Kraft singles was my joy and being such a sweet and endearing youngling, I loved to share my joy. Thus, every person who entered my home got a Kraft singles as a welcoming gift. You're Welcome.
5. Kerropi, Pochacco, or Hello Kitty? My preference was Pochacco. Confused? If you were a child from 1993 - 1997, then you're emotional state was determined by how many Sanrio goodies you owned. Sanrio made pencil boxes cool, pens fun, and birthday presents easy. Also, Sanrio helped me survive my adolescent crushes...he loved Kerroppi, so I expressed my interest through the purchase of a Kerroppi eraser, just for him.
6. Sprinklers. Pools were awesome, baths were fun, but the days I got to run through the sprinklers were priceless. There was something so exciting about running on the wet grass while water was shooting at me. Maybe the excitement sprung from the "rebel-like" qualities the activity held...I didn't always have to be in my swimsuit, I could be in school-clothes and SHOES! How awesome is that? Running through water with your clothes on!

I guess I sometimes long for my childhood because of the mystery it held, the excitement that was derived from the most miniscule of things, and the endless entertainment round pieces of cardboard could provide. I enjoyed every moment of my adventures and catastrophes. Now, I am happy that I get to enjoy them through memory :)

More Olives Please?!

Subway. Oh, my divine Subway. Why do you tease me so? Yes, I said tease. Why? Well, I see an advertisement for a $5 footlong. Of course, I automatically crave the turkey sub with the toppings exploding out of the overstuffed sandwich being advertised in this enticing commercial. So, I hop in Lil Weezy (my not-so-trusty mode of transportation)and make my way to Subway. When I enter the shop, the usual scent of feet and meat enters my nostrils. Mmmmmmm!

Sandwich Artist: What can I get you?
Me: I would like a turkey footlong on wheat, please.
Sandwich Artist: Toppings?
Me: Yes! Lettuce, tomato, pickle, olives...ummmm...

Usually, this is where the dialogue turns ugly. How, you may ask, does dialogue "turn ugly" in a Subway? Well, that question is rather easy. If the staff wouldn't be so chintzy with the toppings, my attitude would remain in its typical upbeat tone. BUT, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. They never fail to put a ridiculously small amount of toppings on. AND, if you have ever been to a subway you KNOW what I am talking about. You say "I want olives" and they put 4 olives on your sandwich. As if each olive was king of a particular section of your sandwich and no other olives can enter the territory without war.

So, of course, I ask for more olives, and then, I get the look. That look that says "Oh great, I got the chick that's gonna give me a hassle." YES, Mr. Sandwich Man, I am going to give you a flippin hassle if you don't put more olives on my sandwich! Anyway, after the look, the Artist (ahem) puts 3 more olives on, creating 3 new olive territories. Now, I am annoyed. I mean, c'mon! How am I supposed to even taste those olives through the chunky foot-tasting wheat bread?

In my newly annoyed state, I address my dear sandwich maker again, "May I pleeeeaaaaase have more olives?" This time he is not going for it. "Ma'am, I am going to have to charge you extra for more." WHAT? EXCUSE ME? You want to charge me extra for the 3 more olives you are going to throw on that pathetic excuse for a sandwich! I am no longer sweet and complacent, that goes out the door in 1.3 seconds, and the "Listen, bitch" comes out. I call this alter "Listen, bitch" because my first sentence always starts with "Listen" and I always dream of having enough courage to add the bitch (I never do, but wouldn't that make an interesting story?).

"Listen, sir, you put a total of 7 olives on my sandwich. Is there an olive limit? In training, do they tell you that 7 is the maximum and then you have to start charging per set of 3? Is there a shortage of olives in the world that I do not know of? Do you save the extra olives you don't put on sandwiches, and eat them after your shift? I mean, really man..." At this point, he is annoyed and he can tell I am just getting started. So, I get my way. After a lot of wasted breath and time, the Sandwich chef picks up the handfull of olives that he should have from the start and throws them on my sandwich like a defeated child.

Yes. I have won this battle but I know there will be more. I know this will happen every time I go to Subway. So, Mr. Sandwich Man, be prepared because I have my voluminous speech ready to break you down and annoy the hell out of you.

Lauren: 36
Sandwich Man: 0