How To Be Famous. No Really.

After spending hours reading gossip columns and watching E! True Hollywood Story, I have learned the secret to being famous. No, it's not giving out BJ's like it's Halloween candy or getting breast implants. Mmmm, I want chicken. Sorry, the term breast implants makes me think of chicken and then I get hungry. But I digress. So, the secret to being famous:

1. You sang in front of the mirror.

But, Lauren, this is far too simple? Sit down Kanye and I will explain. Whenever a celebrity is asked "How did you know you wanted to be a singer/actor/dildo?" the celebrity answers with "I knew because I danced and sang in front of my mirror." Really? That's amazing because I knew I wanted to be a lawyer when I started filing pretend motions in front of the mirror. Weird. Sorry to crush your dreams Taylor Swift but every child sings to a mirror audience. It's like a childhood requirement, along with peeing your pants and eating your boogers.

2. You were a nerd.

Ever notice how celebrities were NOT cool until they became famous??? "Did you have a lot of friends in high school? No, the kids used to pick on me. " Newsflash, they didn't pick on you because you were a nerd they picked on you because you were a total whore nipple. So, why don't you go cry in your pretty corner Scarlett Johanson, while the real nerds continue dressing like cracked out Carebears and setting curves.

3. You were ugly.

ALL celebrities were ugly before they were famous. They were so hideous they belonged on Rock of Love instead of in movies. Then, one day, Jake Gyllenhaal, Brad Pitt, and Jessica Biel bumped into Jesus and asked him to fix their faces. ALAKAZAM! And then they were pretty. Yep, that's exactly how it happened...in their drug induced dreams. Celebrities are always trying to relate to real people by saying they used to be ugly. You know what I have to say to that? What the effing shit? It makes me really happy to know that in order to relate you have to be ugly like the rest of us. Go ingest some more botox, dicks.

4. You lived in your car.

Oooooh, look at me! I was sooooo poor that I had to live in my car. Now I have miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiillions of dollars that I spend on Evian baths, gold-flaked ice cream, and diamond encrusted toilets because everyone should take sparkly poops.

5. You have mommy/daddy issues.

My dad wasn't around, my mom is Sarah Palin, wah wah wah. Sad. Good thing you have a money to spend on legit psychotherapy from Dr. Drew or Phil.

If you find that you fulfill the above, you are pretty much guaranteed stardom and free sex from hookers. Jus sayin, Charlie Sheen.

Um, Hi...What's Up?

It's been a while. We started this nice little 5 to 10 posts a month relationship and then NOTHING. I left baby in the corner and never asked mama bear to dirty dance. Sorry. But, I'm Jack Nicholson in The Shining back. FINE. I am not completely back because I am watching the two-weeks worth of prime TV I have saved on my DVR. That means 20-hours of Gossip Girl, 90210, Glee, 30 Rock and Vampire Diaries. I am "What what in the butt" happy.

Other than telling you about the useless way I am spending my new year I would like to inform you about my life during the past two months:

1. I got me a lil sister! NO, Mindel did not pop one out. I was matched with a little sister after joining Big Brothers, Big Sisters. I am really excited and scared. I might make this child into the most awkward and nerdy middle schooler ever. Sorry universe.

2. I put a peach in a ziploc bag.
3. I put scrambled eggs in a ziploc bag. Riveting, I know.

They kind of smelled like butthole. No. They really did smell like butthole.

4. I referenced ziploc bags far too many times in 1 blog post. Sorry.
5. I got in touch with my Joots (Jew + Roots) and celebrated the shit out of Hanukkah. I got my own menorah and lit the candles all 8 days. Yes, the candles were kosher. Unfortunately, my menorah was placed next to a piggy bank...I don't know how kosher that is but I feel like I lost some God points. Sorry for reals.

 
6. Blossom. I was Blossom for Halloween and I learned a major lesson. My lesson was that men who hit on a girl dressed like an awkward and mediocre looking teen idol probably have a weird fetish and are just as creepy as the guys who hit on the slutty police women.

Eat your heart out Mayim Bialik. Slut.

7. I ran in the rain. Yep. I AM THAT INTERESTING.
8. Rachel passed the bar.
9. I would be a real ass face if I dedicated only one sentence to Rachel's passing the bar. So, here is this video:

Side note: Holy effing crap. Serena was drugged and that vagina head Juliette is blackmailing Lilly.

10. It's New Years Day and I have resolved to write at least 15 posts a month. You're welcome.

They Sell Nuts in Street Carts

During the week long vacation my law school thinks is enough to repress the the puke inducing memories of studying and reading a silly document called "The Constitution," I took a little trip to New York. And, no, I am not going to reference that stupid Jay-Z song, while telling you about my trip.

After living in San Diego for two years and having a mom that looks like she has J-Lo's bronzing crew, I have developed quite a complex regarding my "no darker than an uncooked chicken" skintone. I mean, you know it's bad when a guy who is trying to hit on you says "Damn, girl! You Vampire white." Damn, boy! You are never going to see a vagina. Anyway, it was refreshing to go to a city where my pale is NORMAL.

No Snooki bronzer here. Just my all natural pale + my "look I just had a stroke" smile.

Since I was only in the city of 30 Rock and Gossip Girl for 3 days, I had to get my priorities straight when it came to what I wanted to see and do. Empire State building or 30 Rock building (aka Rockafeller Center)?

30 ROCK BUILDING. DUH! That's me on the zillionth floor of the building. You probably didn't notice the word "boobs" on my chest, but in case you did: I really love this picture but my boobs looked like they could have bitch slapped Dolly Parton's boobs back to an A-Cup. Hence, I took the liberty of censoring and subtitling. You're welcome.

Obviously, the only reason I went to Rockafeller Center was in hopes of running into my bestie Tina Fey. I mean, when you approach most of life's problems wondering WWTFD (What Would Tina Fey Do?), it's pretty much written in the stars that you'll randomly run into TF.

Yeah. That's Tina in the same spot where I was posing. She said "Hi" to me and now we're on a first name basis. She's probably going to read my blog. Not to brag or anything. FINE! It was just my imagination, Smokey Robinson. But, someday. Someday, she'll be making that face when she's thinking "WWLRD." Word.

I am kind of tired of writing, but I will leave you with this:

I met a man in NY. He introduced me to his pigeons, so it's kinda official. I did have to fight that old broad for him but it was worth it. He feeds me birdseed.

I Wish I Could Punch Nature

I wish I could tell you about this weekend in story form, but that would require me to write a book. So, I am going law school style on this bad boy and bullet-pointing my life: It was Memorial Day weekend, which means it was time for the Lauren, Danielle, William, and Jeff annual backpacking trip. We don’t BBQ on holidays. We fight bears on holidays.

Day 1. We woke up at the butt-crack of dawn on Saturday morning, actually excited to go walk 22 miles with a 30lb backpack. First problem.

After our delicious Starbucks coffee, we embarked on the first day’s adventure. Notice the life in my voice? That’s because at this point in the trip, I still had life in my soul. The first day was a 12 mile hike and it honestly was not that bad. I promise I am not on drugs. The trail was mostly downhill and our Off Bug Spray bitch slapped every mosquito that attempted to gnaw at our soul. Take that, wannabe vampires.

When we finally arrived at our camp-sight, we built a cute little fire pit out of rocks and ate our delicious PIZZA. Say what? Bet you didn’t think you could make pizza in the wilderness. Well you can. We did. Brush of the shoulders.

Day 2. This was supposed to be our 6 mile day. The easier day. WRONG. Day 2 was the day mother nature found us and decided she hated us. Then bitch slapped us. Then kicked us until we bled. Let the battle begin.

First, the trail was as wide as I was [Insert fat joke here]. Now, if you think you would enjoy balancing on a sidewalk curb that was hanging off the edge of a cliff, while wearing a 30lb backpack, then this would be fun for you (you, also, most likely have something mentally wrong with you and I would see a professional for it). If not, well then, you would hate your life at this point. I am not a ballerina. I don’t do balance. I cannot even walk well on a regular sidewalk. WHY MUST YOU PLAY SUCH CRUEL JOKES ON ME, LIFE?

Even worse, this trail was ALL uphill. Poor nauseated Danielle and gassy William playing his gastro-intestinal trombone. (P.S. we were eating a zillion grams of fiber a day. We were like an Activia commercial. Take that Bifulus-Regularis.) Now, I know I am Jewish and my people walked through the desert…blah, blah, blah. But, this was absolutely ridiculous. Even Moses would have had to take some breathers and a Matzah break.

We finally stopped for lunch at a lovely little campsite, where we met the most perfect couple in the world. The guy lacked any sign of face stubble and the girl’s hair was perfect…straight out of a Pantene commercial. EVEN THEIR DOGS WERE PERFECT. Not one spot of dirt on them. Hence, we automatically hated/wanted to be them. There were also 6 others there who informed us that our campsite was a 4-hour hike away. This information got all of us in a tissy fit because we wanted to make it there before dark (it was 4pm already). So, we threw on our deathpacks and started moving. Oh, if you were thinking things already sound crappy, well then get ready to go for a swim in the sea of POO.

After walking for 25 minutes, Jeff and I reached a fork in the road. Go straight or go right. We went straight and miraculously figured that Danielle and William had Harry Potter magical powers and would know where we went. UGH! I hate when my psychic powers don’t work. We were more wrong than whoever thought it would be a good idea to make the movie Gigli.

Jeff and I walked for an hour before we realized that we couldn’t even see them on the trail. We waited for ten. Nope. Called out their names. Nothing. Somehow, we found cell phone service and called/texted/e-mailed William. Then, we walked back to the lunch spot in hopes that we would find them there. Zilch.

Day 3. That’s when we found out they were alive. Turns out Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn went TEN MILES down the wrong crap-path, slept on the poo-trail, and only survived because Mother Theresa’s grandchildren found them and helped them escape the jaw of Big Sur (yes, the one I want to punch). When I saw them walking down that mountain I felt so relieved and so sick to my stomach at how traumatized they looked. Shake angry fist at stupid mountain.

The Few Good Memories:

• Jeff (looking at our nails with a pound of dirt under them): This is the opposite of a French Manicure. This is like a poo manicure.


• William playing the butt trombone all the way up the mountain


• Me falling 3 times within an hour


• Jeff using multiple items of clothing for horrible purposes


• The wind quartet


• Danielle’s million nervous questions


• Not camping related but Dominic’s idea for a porn: Hand-jobs on Tractors. Word.

• Jon's calm and collected reaction. Thanks, Dad. :)

#15: See a Movie in 3D

Weird that I am 25 in the year 2010 and last night was the first time I have ever seen a movie in 3D. But it doesn't matter when, it just matters that you do it. So, my technologically/scientifically inept butt finally made its way to an IMAX screen to watch Alice in her adventure through Wonderland. Avatar can suck it (if I weren't typing I would do one of those vulgar hand motions that go with that line, I'm in that kinda mood).

Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland is the most beautiful tale for the off-beat adventure seeker. The story appreciates weird and promotes escaping reality. Tim Burton's scary and odd take on the tale was eye-opening. I sat in the theater wide-eyed with a big dumb grin on my face. I know, I know. I usually look this way, but I was horribly hungover and that big dumb grin felt like I was lifting fat babies with my cheeks.

The 3D experience was fun. It would be better if I did drugs. But, all in all, I was impressed. I had the constant need to lift my hand and touch all the odd things flying at me. I refrained for the sake of the 12 kids next to me and their parents who probably would have thought I was on E. The movie wasn't so crazy that I wanted to puke after the ride. It was the perfect amount of 3D for a beginner. So, would I do it again? Yes. Was it everything I hoped for and more? Eh.

Oh! Before I forget. I have one issue with this 3D stuff. What's up with not accommodating the Nerdy McNerdersons who don't wear contacts? I mean, how am I going to wear my prescription glasses and the 3D glasses at the same time??? This really was a big problem until I discovered I lost my glasses. I am thinking of 3D-Bifocals? Amen.

A Few Things I Could Live Without BUT Life Would Really Suck if I Had To

1. AQUAPHOR

I would like to praise whoever invented this petroleum tube of genius. Are your feet dry? Lips chapped? Dun-da-dun-dun! AQUAPHOR to the rescue! Typical situation:

Me: Oh my! My lips are so chapped. tear.
Aquaphor: Hey there foxy lady. Your dry, deathly looking lips look like they could use some cheering up. Anything I can do?

Me: Oh, Aquaphor. You make my heart go pit pat.

True story.

2. MASCARA

The one thing every woman should have and use is mascara. Why? Ummm, do you like looking tired? Didn't think so. Mascara is an instant eye opener and sure fire way to hide your lack of sleep.

3. ZIPLOC BAGS

I dedicate this to Sheenika and Heather because they know that I would starve if I did not have my wonderful ziplocs. Honestly, you can put anything and everything in those bad boys. Fruit, corn, turkey, nuts, vegetables... the list could be miles long. If I could, I would marry Ziploc. Best. Marriage. Ever.

4. PEARLS

So, the general consensus from men who know me is that I give off a slutty vibe. Basically, when they first meet me, they think I'm a girlscout who's willing to sell her cookies for a good bargain. Mmmm, Thinmints. I digress. So, yeah, the slutty vibe. The worst part is that it must be such a downer for men who think they are going to get my box of cookies and I leave them with "Sorry, the season is over." I have learned that the best way to fix my "slut-problem" is pearls. Yep. Oyster boobies. Pearls are the classic jewlery. They just scream 1950's virgin. So, if you make a little Lauren cocktail and throw in some pearls, the slut vibe is out the door. Pearl wearing girl scout say what?

5. CHEESE

I do not understand people who do not like cheese. They might as well be Ikea directions in farsi. How can you not like the milky deliciousness of curdled cow milk. Mmmmmm! Yep. Cheese is definitely something else I would marry. Perfect. Marriage. Ohhhhhh! Genius idea. Put the cheese in the Ziploc baggy and get the best of both worlds Hannah Montana style.

6. DOWN COMFORTER

Me, a young, warm-blooded creature, who likes to sleep on clouds in my free time. You, a sexy, fluffy cloud of heaven. Me + You = Heavenly nights of Lauren wrapped in cloth stuffed with chicken feathers. Mmmmm.

7. Vanilla Secret Deoderant

I sweat. No. Not dainty "Ooooh, look at me, I was jogging for an hour and one drop of sweat popped out of my forehead pore." I sweat an Olson twin when I do anything active. But, the one thing I can be greatful for is that when I do sweat (all the time, ahem) at least I smell like a pink starburst! Yep. Be jealous.

8. ROLLEY BACKPACK, SAY WHAT?!

My rolley backpack is quite possibly the most awesome thing on this planet. Yes, one wheel does make a shuffling sound. Yes, the other wheel makes a kur-plunk sound. But my RB gives me status. I am "that" girl with the rolley. The rolls. I represent my crew hardcore. I'm an RB Gangsta. What now, biatch?

It also really helps with my poor posture. Jus say'n! Shoot.

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 :)

Studying is Killing Me, So I'm Making a List

Finals are rapidly approaching, rapidly meaning in one month, and I have the itch. The itch to do something other than study, such as plan. I love planning things because it gives me something to look forward to. I mean, spur of the moment is exciting, but it provides ZERO incentive to not gauge my eyes out. So, instead of sitting in the library thinking "I would rather be sitting on a beehive," I can think "In only one month I get to _______ ." Hence, here is my summer to do list:

1. Go camping memorial day weekend
2. Learn how to Salsa without looking incredibly white
3. Go to NY and be a complete and utter tourist
4. Use my wonderful Canon and take some freakn pictures
5. Go vegan for a week
6. Cook something new every two weeks
7. Throw an awesome themed party
8. Go to a Hockey game
9. Eat something I would never ever try if it weren't for my present library boredom
10. Go to as many baseball games possible
11. Read 5 magazines outside of my comfort zone
12. Go to a strip club
13. Become a certified Scuba diver
14. Go to the roller derby
15. See a movie in 3D
16. Make a family style dinner for friends
17. Sky dive
18. Go on a mini-roadtrip BY MYSELF
19. Become a Carney for a day and fly on a trapeze
20. Do not binge eat one thing. NOT ONE.
21. Go to a Play