ll Pause

Tap, Tap, Tri-Seat

2012-03-11T12:00:00.000-07:00

The tri-seat, seen in Matryoshka I.R.L. is one of the coveted spots on the new Metrolink cars. Of course, average people coming and going on our lovely rail system have no idea how the commuter mind works and rarely follow the sacred rules of the train commute. So you can't always count on the tri-seat-fecta.

The unspoken rule pertaining to the tri-seat is this:

A.K.A:

I see this all the time, and it's such a waste of awesome leg room and free space it boggles the mind:

Trust me, there are many other fail combinations, but this one hurts the most. Another common one is where two people are clearly together chatting away and have their bags on the free seat, like so:

And then, some dingleberry will come along and want to sit where their bags are... usually interrupting a conversation they're having to get them to move the bags and always making awkward personal space violations to get situated in that cramped seat. Really?

The only caviat to this and all other sacred commuter rules comes in with Rule Number One, the golden commuter rule that all train patrons must sign their acknowledgement before boarding (or they should anyway): If the train is crowded/full, your shit doesn't get its own seat, PERIOD. The ONLY way around that rule is if you can provide proof of fare for your shit, thereby proving ~~you're the king of the asshats~~ you paid for the two seats you are taking up, which is totally ~~shitballscrazy~~ respectable and encouraged if you're traveling with a ton of stuff/luggage.

It's a dog eat dog world on the train/bus/shuttle; use your noggin.

DLLS

2012-03-10T20:32:00.001-08:00

Not cold medicine this time for realzzzz. Cousins and Slater's 50/50 but the veggie burger is not as amazing as the 50/50 just sayin'. Schtegllll (sp!?) is dangerous... Delicious. Hubby made the car a dutch oven, natch, yaaaay. Cousin hubby locked the windows! S. O. S.
I'm on my phone that predicts what I want to say so the spelling and such are still pretty reasonable. This is basically just a drunken version of what I usually post. Cheating. You guys are so awesome.

xox Laura Leane

Sucker Punch Dreams

2012-03-09T10:48:00.002-08:00

To save the world from themselves, the girls take on the evils of the microwaved burger patties.

Sweet Pea, Rocket, Baby Doll, Blondie, and Amber locate the target and act quickly. There're 12 seconds to spare.

Baby Doll: "Come on, it's about to ding!"

Rocket: "WAIT!! Baby be careful!"

Sweet Pea: "Someone's coming; Blondie, cover Baby Doll!"

Baby Doll opens the microwave door without bothering to hit stop. When it's life or death, there's no time for "better safe than sorry". She goes to grab the mutilated entree, but hesitates.

"This plate is scalding hot; someone get me a towel."

Blondie: "Here you go Baby."

She gets the plate out of the microwave and dumps the burger into Rocket's waiting satchel.

Rocket: "You're sure this will work?"

Sweet Pea: "It has to work. COME ON!"

They run for the door. Just as she starts to turn to make sure they've all made it out, Sweet Pea sees him. He's running toward them with the empty plate, ready to hurl it as soon as he gets close enough.

"Shit."

She slams the door and takes off running for the van, but he's quickly through the door and on her heels. He hurls the plate at her head, but Rocket has reached the car and sees what's going on. She pulls the trigger. The bullet shatters the plate on its way to his shoulder. He tumbles to the ground and clutches his wound.

They've made it. No one was supposed to get hurt, but at least no one died today... more importantly, no one ate a microwaved burger patty.

This is the dream that lingered in my head when my alarm went off this morning. This whole plants lifestyle change is starting to effect my subconscious too.

Changing the World

2012-03-08T08:43:00.000-08:00

Found in my Stats, under Traffic Sources/Search Keywords:

That person found llPause and learned something... hopefully.

'swhat we're all about.

Matryoshka I.R.L.

2012-03-07T10:33:00.002-08:00

Spotted on the train:

That sweater has some sweet detail you can't see in this ever-so-covertly-taken photo.

The best part? Aside from her awesome makeup/hair/outfit? That white iPhone 4s that she's got? When we reached L.A. and had to disembark, she took the phone, put it inside of a fresh rubber glove that she pulled out of a box inside her purse (powder free of course), and stashed the gloved phone in her suede boot, unzipping the boot, tucking it in against her leg, and zipping the boot back up. She seemed like a nice lady.

SHOUT OUT:

2012-03-06T14:35:00.001-08:00

To my one and only H.L.P. Surly Gurly, you know I'm so proud of you.

Y'all need to show her some love for her interview in Reviewer Magazine. Mage presh yo.

P.S. No idea where the gangsta came from, trizzust.
P.P.S. Totally counts as a makeup post for Sunday, WORD!

Come Down

2012-03-06T09:24:00.000-08:00

Is it possible to trip off of 48 hours back to back dosage of Vicks products? Me neither. I have never sweat so much in my life.

Do you know how excited I am that I don't have a sinus infection? Do you have any clue?

Something like this.

I'm certain it's thanks to my new eating habits. I did nothing else different, unless you count trying the new NyQuil... I don't. It's the same glorious drugs I've always taken, minus the ones I never need.

I'm back at work today and guess what kind of supply chaos was waiting for me. *sigh*

Among other things, the fruit guys sent us a pineapple this week. What they were thinking when they put that in the box, I'll never know. It's going to be a great week.

What day is it?

2012-03-05T16:08:00.001-08:00

What a weekend, folks.

Half drugged fantasy, half congested nightmare. BUTGUESSWHAT?!? After all that yuck, it's not a sinus infection yet... I probably just jinxed it (if there were such a thing), but I have a feeling my new eating habits are going to work some magic on this one. We'll see.

Fail One: No post yesterday. I was busy napping and/or blowing my nose. Maybe I'll just take Sundays off every week anyway. Everyone needs a little time to themselves.

How was everyone's weekend? It was pretty glorious, weather wise. We did manage to spend some time outside even though I didn't feel up to it. I brought my big bag with an entire box of tissues and a target bag for trash... cuz that's how I roll.

We watched Sucker Punch in between my naps. It was a pretty good flick. Strange at first, but bad to the ass later on. We started Red Riding Hood with Amanda Seyfried... I couldn't get into it. After we gave up, I found out Mrs. Twilight Hardwicke herself directed it... that explains a lot.

I ate oatmeal with avocado and veggie sausage patties for breakfast at some point... it was pretty damn delicious. Who says oatmeal has to be sweet?

NyQuil has a new line of awesome called Sinex. It's the magic of NyQuil, but just for sinus issues, not the cough and other symptoms you don't have. They have a daytime option as well. They're fantastic.

That's all I remember.

DLLS

2012-03-03T21:06:00.000-08:00

Not drunk from booze, but cold medication, WOOOOOOOO!!!!

You know this is going to be awesome.

OHH wAIT lol caps lock. Wait, not everyone knows what DLLS means... That stands for Drunken Love Letter Saturday. Something I like to do that I have now digitized for you all to enjoy. Though, this week, I've got a bit of a cold, so NyQuil will have to do.

Yeah, I usually toss back a couple, put pen to paper, pour my drunken heart out, and seal the envelope before I sober up and make better decisions. Truth juice is an accurate nickname.

Maybe I'll write one out on paper in my purdy scrawl and scan it up on here... I'm just full of all kinds of brilliant. GOODNIGHT! Gotta get my rest and stuff.

August 6, 2005

2012-03-02T14:34:00.001-08:00

"What a beautiful day to lounge around with the windows open" she said.

"What a beautiful day for a roll in the hay" he said.

Kisses and giggles were shared while they wrestled around in the early afternoon hours of a mild August day. She had no idea that her perfect day was going to turn into a nightmare.

Someone is pounding on the door.

"It's Dad; I need to talk to you, right now, bring your purse."

They stumble out of bed; she throws on a summer dress, grabs her purse, and meets her dad out in the garage.

"I just got a call from your grandfather. He's in the hospital with Grandma and we need to get there now. They're doing all they can, but she doesn't have much time. They've got the C.P.R. going and Grandpa is scared. I need you to drive because I'll probably have to drive Grandpa home in his car."

They jump into the car and race to the hospital. The whole time, she's thinking back on her lifeguard training... the part where they tell you that C.P.R. isn't going to revive anyone like on T.V. It's just a way to keep life going until the defibrillator and/or E.M.T.s can get there. "Why would they be doing C.P.R. at the hospital" she wonders. Either way, she's certain she won't be arriving to good news.

Once parked and inside the hospital, Grandpa and Dad are in a small staging cubicle, the epitome of grief. "She didn't make it".

There's something Grandpa is holding onto, and he holds it up to her. "They had to cut it off with a bone saw because her body already bloated up so much." He puts it in her hand; it's her grandmother's wedding set. The band is cut, but it's all that's left of her. It starts to sink in.

Dad and Grandpa insist on leaving immediately. Grandpa tells her "There's no need to see her like this; just remember her how she was."

The next thing she knows, she's sitting in Grandma's living room... no, Grandpa's now; just Grandpa. All the neighbors saw them pull up and start trickling in to see what the ambulance and fire trucks were about that morning. They stay to grieve. Grandma's breakfast is still spilled on the floor, plates on the table, dishes in the sink. "She screamed in pain and passed out in her eggs. She never liked my eggs" Grandpa says with a detached chuckle. Always cracking a joke, that's what grandpas are for.

Grandpa goes on to tell the story, over and over, to each neighbor and each family member as they come over or call. "He's being so brave" she thinks.

It was the longest day of her life.

THIS! IS! SPARTA!!!

2012-03-01T08:25:00.002-08:00

Ahem, I mean, this is post 300. I can't help myself! Don't judge.

This is also day 1 of officially being a better blogger. I've been unofficially doing better all week, but now it's legit. Every day, for the rest of my blogging career, I will post something. That means, this time next year, I should have 665 posts. 300 posts in 2 years is pretty pathetic when you look at it that way.

I want to re-post my welcome for the newcomers from First Name Smith because the wonderful K-Law has a feature up today that includes llPause and Laurganized. Regularly scheduled programming to continue once everyone gets settled in... tomorrow. *smooches*

Anyway! This blog is my soap box, therapy, class room, and perpetual open mic night. Please, make yourself comfortable.

Some posts to start with, for a taste of the llpause experience, can be found as follows:

Fish
Testing, one, two, sibilance, sibilance...
Life's Too Short
Forever Unclean
Enchilada Pancakes
BLOOOOON!
Heads Up 7 Up
Taste the Drunken Rainbow
My Precious, the 4-Runner
Deep Thoughts
STOOOOOOP!
It's so super important, you guys!
He said NO, you guys!
Spanx very much.
It IS the rabbit...
I Dunno
Can I Just Say
Halloween
Gobble Gobble
Sorry Cartman
What, Did your dog die?
"Fragile? It must be Italian!"

Now's your chance to run and hide. No? Welcome to the family!

New signature, you like?

Help a blogger out.

2012-02-29T11:08:00.000-08:00

I will pay you in drunken love letters if you go vote for Gourmande in the Kitchen right now! http://t.co/n9zevvfy

You do have to create an account on the website first, but it's free and easy and you don't have to subscribe to their junk at all. Once you do that and log in, the little vote buttons appear.

THANKS!

Vegan Cheese

2012-02-29T10:31:00.001-08:00

I'm a cheese LOVER who's going plant based to save my life; let's discuss.

The goal is to consume only whole plants and/or dishes made from only whole plants in various forms (e.g. blended, boiled, baked, barbecued, browned, etc.) and NOT get sucked into the pre-made, processed, deliciousness sold for the vegan population, that doesn't contain animals or their byproducts, but also doesn't have nearly the same nutritional benefit as whole plants.

That being said, I've found some delicious replacements for cheese that I thought I would share. Some options are more nutritional than others, all contain no animals.

World Vegan Feast is a cook book that contains a recipe for Suisse Melty Vegan Cheese that is almost better than actual cheese... almost. It can be used as a spreadable cheese, a cheese sauce, a slice-able cheese (if you let it harden in the refrigerator), etc. You can change the flavor by adding or removing certain flavor aspects of the recipe. You can make it chunkier for a cheese dip/topping. It melts well enough for grilled cheese or quesadillas. I'm excited to see if it will work as a substitute in my enchilada pancakes.

Another recipe for cheese in the same book is their Walnut Parm (which is used as a base for the suisse melty cheese). That stuff is BETTER than any parmigiana I've had... maybe not fresh, but close. You can make a ton of it to have on hand to sprinkle on anything you'd like. Baked Parmesan Crostini, done; Parmesan on your salad, no problem; Put down the Mrs. Dash, grab your walnut parm.

Another easy vegan cheese replacement is Alfredo Sauce. There are plenty of recipes for that, and they're all pretty spot on (not that I've tried every single one, but enough to notice the pattern). There's one in World Vegan Feast, and one of my favorites can be found here.

I've tried a few pre-made veggie/vegan cheeses from various grocery stores and found they mostly all taste like veggie puree and/or chemicals, and they don't melt... they just get warm and filmy. They look generally more appetizing though.

Which brings me to my next point about all the substitutes. If you've been reading my posts about eating whole foods, but have one or two items you can't even fathom letting go of, like my cheese, there are more than enough vegan hipsters blogging out there; you're bound to find a replacement you can live with.

Again, I emphasize that this is a once in a while treat that I can enjoy instead of real cheese. Especially the Suisse Melty Cheese that contains corn starch and white flour. No animals, but still not ideal = once in a while treat. The book has other recipes that stick with whole plants and are delicious.

Until next time...

Little Largent

2012-02-28T15:00:00.000-08:00

TIME OUT!

This isn't the post you've been hoping for, trizzust.

There has been an official decision and you're not going to like it. The Hubby and I are not going to participate in reproduction.

Little Largent is now the code name for our savings account, not any future child we had planned to make.

Little Largent, the savings account, will be used for electronics, adventure tickets, expensive vegetables, shoes, pedicures, alcohol, white linens, breakable trinkets, niece/nephew spoiling, actual savings, etc.

There are so many things to consider, seriously, too damn many. It all boils down to this:
We don't have to, so we're not gonna; tough-noogies.

Other reasons considered that weren't necessarily deal breaker, but contributed to the decision.

Pros:

Baby smell/giggles
Growing/Molding a human however you want (within the law, natch)
Someone to ~~stick you in a nursing home~~ take care of you when you're older (maybe)
Sharing childhood memories
Passing on a legacy
Knowing true undying love, blah blah

Cons:

It's not going to be easy to make one; why bother with all that torture?
Hard work that is completely voluntary, yet a life sentence? No thanks.
Every parent I've ever spoken to about having children: "I love my kid(s), but..." or "I love my kid(s), totally don't have any, but..." (not kidding)
$$$
Diaper smell
Child rearing politics and/or judgmental assholes of the world.
The team mate with the vagina is the bread-winner in our situation, so that won't work when she has to stay home for having a human come out of it.
The thought of trying to find a good/adequate school to send them to makes me collapse with frustration.
Let's be honest, there are plenty of humans to carry on the species.
etc.

Obviously, the Cons are more motivating than the Pros, but the decision has been made, no need to give me more of either. None of this is to say "neener-neener, you have kids and I don't!". Life is full of choices; this is ours; it's not for us. I don't judge you for the way you choose to live your life (yes I do), so don't judge us (you're going to anyway).

This decision was made a while ago, but I've been hesitant to come on here and make a formal announcement because it's just asking for trouble... and, if we have an accident that we decide to keep some day, you're probably going to shove it in my face. Time passes, people change, decisions lead to more decisions, etc. This is how we are choosing to live our lives now.

This Easter Sunday, 2012 will be very interesting. I'm sure everyone will assume one of us is infertile or some such scandalous nonsense... which could be true, but that information was not involved in our decision nor do we have it to confirm or deny.

We're just selfish assholes who see the grass as greener on our side; deal with it. Until next time...

P.S. None of this applies to teen moms and/or pro-lifers, obviously, pffshshsh.

"Nah, they'd have to have it on a line."

2012-02-27T12:44:00.000-08:00

All healed; new additions; officially a sock in progress; NERD ALERT!

New additions: two European swallows migrating

with a coconut they obtained in a tropical zone...

carried on a line that is held under their dorsal guiding feathers.

Until next time...

I get it.

2012-02-23T09:38:00.001-08:00

You want more. It's only fair. I realize I'm a lazy blogger. I beg for comments, but I don't give you enough to make it worth it. I try for more readers, but I don't put any effort into making the blog more widely readable. Life's too short to wait for handouts! I get it!!

March 1st, we're changing that. More pictures, more shenaniganz, daily posts, vlogs, drunkenness, blather, and crassity, coming your way! Prepare yourselves for disaster and hopefully you'll be pleasantly surprised.

We're taking it to the next level. It's not just about my therapy, or your need to know why fish are fucking disgusting. It's about keeping you entertained and coming back for more!

Also, I love my tag "Until next time..." but it doesn't matter what I love. What do you want? A sweet graphic with a logo? A simple sign off with my name? Nothing? Until next time...? Tell me what you want and I will give it to you!

We're keeping the writer and her crazy, but we're putting you in charge. Build your own adventure.

Until next time...

Dear Jon

2012-02-22T11:58:00.000-08:00

Dear Verizon,
Buh-BYE!

Dear Cable TV Bill,
Buh-fuckin-BYE!

Dear Roku/Hulu Plus/Amazon,
'ello, love.

I'll keep you posted. Until next time...

"Woah" - Joey Russo

2012-02-16T12:21:00.000-08:00

Welcome to any newcomers from First Name Smith. Isn't Kristen a doll? LOVE!

Sorry, I've just been feeding my giggle spot with some Coffee Talk and have Linda Richman's voice in my head, no big whoop.

Anyway! This blog is my soap box, therapy, class room, and perpetual open mic night. Please, make yourself comfortable.

Some posts to start with, for a taste of the llpause experience, can be found as follows:

Fish
Testing, one, two, sibilance, sibilance...
Life's Too Short
Forever Unclean
Enchilada Pancakes
BLOOOOON!
Heads Up 7 Up
Taste the Drunken Rainbow
My Precious, the 4-Runner
Deep Thoughts
STOOOOOOP!
It's so super important, you guys!
He said NO, you guys!
Spanx very much.
It IS the rabbit...
I Dunno
Can I Just Say
Halloween
Gobble Gobble
Sorry Cartman
What, Did your dog die?
"Fragile? It must be Italian!"

Now's your chance to run and hide. No? Welcome to the family! Until next time...

x0x0x

2012-02-14T12:55:00.000-08:00

Yeah, February 14th can suck it this year too.

You gotta give T-Rex credit for trying though.

Until next time...

Vegan Sharpshooter

2012-02-13T10:36:00.000-08:00

I am firmly planted on the left end of the spectrum, even more so now that I've stopped consuming animals... but I do enjoy firearms and other weaponry.

Like I've said before, if no one gets one, super, but even if one person gets one (including an officer of the law), I do too. And you bet your ass Imma know how to use it!

Hubby, bestie cousins, and I all went to the gun range this weekend. Hubby Cousin and I are seasoned vets around firearms. Wifey Cousin was a total noob, but a fast learner. Hubby has only fired a rifle or shotgun in the desert where the only rule is "don't point it at anything you don't want to kill" and had a hard time with range etiquette at first. Also, manually filling a magazine wasn't his cup of tea. He'd get to 7 and give up... which is FINE for practice at a range, my fingers get sore just like everyone else, but when the zombie apocalypse comes, you're gonna want a full magazine every time you reload, and your loader may not be available; best not to develop bad habits.

Personally, I had only ever fired a .22mm caliber in a rifle, but got to try it out in a handgun (Berreta 92) and really really enjoyed it. The experience was magnified by having a .45mm (Para Ordnance P-13 like in Romeo & Juliet) and a .9mm (Glock 34) rented as well; the contrast between them was quite remarkable. Not to mention the magazine having a handle type system to push the spring completely down while loading bullets with the other... FTW!

Obligatory zombie targets, natch. Somehow in the mix, I never got a clean sheet, so I chose clean corners of sheets and did my best. The "Wall Street Zombie" target had a bunch of money coming out of his pockets and I managed to get Mr. Jackson square in the forehead; yes, on purpose. Not that I'm bragging, of course.

Now Hubby is all about saving up to buy one. I think if a purchase is to be made, I want a little more variety under my belt first. I've only recently acquired a more in depth handgun knowledge myself and haven't had a chance to try very many. Next on the list is an outdoor range where we can skeet shoot and maybe throw in some archery. Until next time...

I can haz [veggie]burger?

2012-02-09T15:44:00.000-08:00

I promised I wouldn't be in your face and preachy about this stuff, but I love you too much to watch you suffer.

Seriously, it's about the amount of human suffering in the world that can be eradicated with the most simple solution. It's so simple, it's scary. It's so simple, and so complex at the same time. It's so simple, even I can do it. It's so simple, it could change the whole world if we let it.

Just put plants in your mouth, and nothing else. That's all you have to do. No more being fat, no more heart disease, no more cancer, no more arthritis, no more prescriptions, no more autoimmune disease suffering, no more diabetes, no more deterioration in old age, no more hormone imbalance, no more acne, no more infertility, no more suffering! POOF, GONE!

Even if you already have those things, they can be reversed, cured, abolished, with plants.

We were never meant to eat animals or their by-products. We were especially never meant to eat them in the amounts that we do. We sure as FUCK weren't meant to eat them after all of the mechanical and chemical processing we put them through.

Plants! That's all! It's not "Vegan" because vegans can get away with things like potato chips, sorbet, non-dairy creamer, etc. Those things aren't good either. That's why you see/read stories about the "vegan" parents who are in jail because their child died/was hospitalized for malnutrition. Those things aren't nutrition. Just because it's "Vegan" doesn't mean it's okay. Sure, it's better to have a scoop of sorbet at a birthday party than a scoop of ice cream and a slice of cake, go for it! As long as that's your once-in-a-while treat, not your new dietary replacement for ice cream.

Do you see the difference? Potato Chips are not a sufficient source of nutrients to sustain life, but a baked potato with the skin and a salad on the side is. There're some pretty delicious, plant replacements for sour cream and butter too.

Once you get into the whole plants only (I hate to use the term "whole foods" because of the grocery store chain.) life, you can stuff your face with all the whole plants you want! Seriously, gorge yourself, because your body is only going to take what it needs and dispose of the rest. That's the best part, really. The idea that you have to maintain a level of hunger in order to be trim and fit is complete nonsense. When your body tells you it's hungry, that means there's a problem and it wants you to fix it. Hunger is not something you should be ignoring. The crap we put in our bodies is what's making us fat; fulfilling your body's need for nourishment is not.

I've been staying away from anything that's not a plant in whole, or super duper close to whole, form since my previous post about food.

I started with an open mind and a plan to finish the food in the house that wasn't a whole plant so as not to waste all that food/money. I'm finding, however, that the more plants I eat, the more the non plants hurt my insides. I'm not even kidding. It's not "all in my head" because I have it in my head that I want to eat these things. I've given myself until the end of February to enjoy my last bites of cheese and/or cake... but they're hurting me. Physical sharp, shooting pain in my abdomen and/or awful poops and/or gas/bloating and/or volcanoes of pus on my face every time I think I can sneak in something processed or animal.

Hubby is more than happy to finish the other food in the house without me. But, I know what it's doing to him. I hate to just sit there and watch him eat it... I don't know where to go from here.

That brings me to all of you. I don't want to watch you eat all those things either. If you take anything I say/write seriously, let it be this: Please read The China Study.

You don't have to agree with it. You don't have to believe a word it says if you don't want to. You don't have to change what you're doing. All I ask, is that you read the book. What you do after that is none of my business. So long as you have the information, I'll be able to sleep at night.

You're probably wondering, "Laura, if it were that easy, why wouldn't we all know about it and be doing it?" Let's go on an adventure.

The first stop is a cattle farm. What would all the billions of dollars spent in meat/milk production go if we stopped eating them? What would the 7 and 8 figure salary executives of the meat/dairy industry do if we spent our money on plants instead of animals?
Next stop, pharmaceutical companies, how would they make billions of dollars in profit if we didn't need cholesterol medication, insulin, blood thinners anymore?
Onward to the hospital, think of all the doctors who spent hundreds of thousands of dollars and countless hours of their lives to become a prestigious heart surgeon. Now tell them that their entire careers are worth less than broccoli.
What if we stopped eating all the processed garbage that this country was built on? Kraft, McDonald's, Nestle, Yoplait... what would happen to them?

They would disappear like Borders and Tower Records, but unlike Borders and Tower Records, these food corporations have the government to help them and billions upon billions of dollars to spend on brainwashing you and your children. They have their name in your face every chance they get, telling you what to put in your mouth. It's fucking disgusting, and it's just a taste of the corruption.

I sincerely feel mounds better already, just switching 80% of my calories to whole plants. I've lost 4 pounds; my pants fit better because I'm not bloated like crazy anymore; my skin looks better already (there's a ways to go still, but I've noticed progress); I'm more refreshed in the morning; I have more energy after meals; I feel full and don't keep stuffing my face (full is full now); I don't go hungry anymore; things taste and smell different (I opened a can of garbanzo beans last night and almost salivated, true story); I'm finding more exotic and fun things to eat; I'm having an easier time turning down cheese and birthday cake, seriously; raw almonds are actually sweet (I know, right?); I'm flossing more because of all the plants in my teeth, which is good; my teeth are whiter; things are looking up and I've just started (16 days ago).

Won't you join me? Until next time...

TOMS!

2012-02-08T15:56:00.000-08:00

BAM! That. Just. HAPPENED!

Finally, I can wear Toms at work... and I AM!

They're more structured than the regular canvas flats, which makes them feel more like real shoes that aren't so deliciously comfy, but as far as ballet flats go, they're fantastic! They have the Toms canvas and suede inside with the cute stitching and stylish layering, but in a ballet flat instead... and one of 'em's black leather! Which costs more, but is worth it for being able to sport Toms in a "business casual" setting.

I can see all my toe cracks though, which is slightly disturbing. I think it's because they run a little large. I got my 9.5, which is usually spot on, but they are a little floppy. So if you're a tweener, go for the smaller size. Even the leather ones are mostly canvas, so they'll stretch out.

Of course, they're "One for One", so the high price tag shouldn't feel so bad. You're paying for 2 pairs of shoes, essentially. When you think of it that way, it's a no-brainer. Shoes that save lives? Duh!

Until next time...

BOOBIES! and other lady bits.

2012-02-03T10:10:00.000-08:00

I could not have said it any better. Thank you Brittany!

choke/sob

2012-02-02T15:40:00.000-08:00

A wave of grief and longing for my 4-Runner overcame me last night when I walked up to the Fiat. I thought I was moving on, but I've just been hiding inside my shiny new car. I still have stuff in the Runner I have to get out for school. I don't know if I can handle that yet, but the time is near.

Another wave of grief and longing is soon to arrive with the bill.

Until next time...

Hoover Floor Mate

2012-02-02T00:13:00.000-08:00

What on EARTH took so long for the geniuses in floor cleaning land to think up this gem?

The top little part has clean, soapy water. The bottom little part is where the icky floor water goes. The glorious machine sucks up all the icky floor water off of the floor like magic. There are little scrubbie brushes in the part that touches the floor that scrubbie the floor while you pull a trigger in the handle to evenly distribute clean soapy water to the dirty floor. It's light weight, easy to fill/empty, compact AND! vacuums dry ickies before you use the water part. It's the complete floor cleaning process in one handy dandy machine that only costs $120.

My floors are so clean I'm uncomfortable with it.

If you have floors that you can mop/swiffer wet/scrub on your hands and knees... go get one of these. I dare say it was fun to clean the floor. Not only does it soap/scrub/dry in one step, there's a dry only setting for spills. If it was cordless I would probably let it see me naked. Until next time...

Customer Service? Ppfshshshsh

2012-02-01T09:57:00.000-08:00

When you get an email that says "your order has been approved and is being processed" you take that to mean your order has been approved and is being processed, right?

Is that not a fair assumption? "...approved... processed" means "all righty, leave it to us to get it to you when we said we would."

Apparently Office Solutions doesn't know the definition of "approved" or "processed".

You know I come on here and shout from the rooftops when I am in love with a new object/service/convenience I have found. I also warn you about things/businesses/ideas that don't create my happiness. It's only fair.

I spent three hours yesterday, building an order for our new San Francisco office... Oh yeah, we're opening an office in San Francisco, there was much rejoicing *yaaaaay*.

THREE HOURS!! to completely supply a brand new office for 5 attorney offices, one reception/secretary desk, one shared workspace/copy area, and a kitchenette. It was beautiful. When I clicked the checkout button, it still had our Los Angeles office information in the shipping section, so I called.

The wonderful ladies on the phones at Office Solutions (are always super bubbly and helpful, that's not where the issue is) informed me that the address I emailed them that morning had to have been completely processed before I started the cart building because I have to select the address to build a cart for at the beginning of my login session. Even if I saved the cart and logged in for the San Francisco office, I can't transfer the completed cart, for some unknown, inane reason.

So I start completely over, from scratch. Another two hours (less this time because I remembered most of the shortcuts I found) spent compiling over 120 items worth of office supplies and triple checking I got everything on the list. I go to checkout and everything is wonderful. At 2:48 PM I get the confirmation email, like usual, that says "your order has been approved and is being processed"; their EXACT words!

I get in this morning and the receptionist says there was a message left for me on the main line at 6:00 last night. It's Office Solutions. The card was declined.

...but ...but ...but "Your order has been approved and is being processed"? MEANINGLESS!

It was declined because it was an abnormally large amount and banks get upset when you do that without warning them, but that's not the issue. The issue is telling me everything is all good, and then it's not.

Now, our perfectly executed order has become a scheduling nightmare. The simple solution would be to fly me up so I can wait on the order and set up the offices. That was the answer from the start, but making things easy isn't everyone's first thought and I can't just say things like that out loud... or can I? I just did; we'll see what happens.

Until next time...

P.S. This little glitch is only the surface of Office Solutions' many, fun-filled quirks... that we can discuss later.

Blogger Schedule

2012-01-31T08:19:00.000-08:00

9:30 PM to 6:30 AM Mon-Fri are the hours I'm sleeping, fighting the inevitability that I will not be sleeping much longer, and/or getting ready for work.

6:30 AM to 6:30 PM Mon-Fri are the hours I am at work or traveling to/from work.

Recently, I have found and become comfortable with using the "schedule" feature on blogger, and some of you may have noticed the posts at odd hours of the early morning/late night. That doesn't mean I'm actually making the post at that time, so don't worry, I'm getting my requisite amount of sleep and/or quality work time each day.

Until next time...

"two girls one cup made me laugh"

2012-01-28T00:00:00.000-08:00

The stats on blogger aren't very reliable, so I use statcounter.com for the real data... but once in a while, blogger catches me off guard and tells me things like someone found my page by googling "two girls one cup made me laugh".

Remember? ...when my brain went into disaster recovery mode?

It still blows my mind how it came out so fluffy and perfect, like mousse. Was she on a special diet all week? Were there trial runs? (woah, pun status too good to be true!) Maybe they gave her a mousse enema to make sure it would be perfect? Fuck, I NEED TO KNOW!!!

If you couldn't tell from the title that this would NOT be a PG post, your fault! Until next time...

P.S. if you have any information on the making of that video that could alleviate some of my pondering, please share. I don't have the balls to do the research, but I'm suffering over here, SUFFERING!

Proverbial Shit is Shitty

2012-01-26T10:17:00.000-08:00

More specifically "I lost my proverbial shit...". Why? Why is this a common phrase? It makes no sense. I hate it and IMMEDIATELY lose a piece of respect for the writer when I read it.

Can someone please explain this phrase to me? Is this one of those phrases that's been flying under the radar so long that everyone accepts it as legitimate? ...like "could care less"?

Don't get me started... we're not going to go into... JUST ADD "NOT"! THAT'S ALL YOU HAVE TO DO!

I digress. "Proverbial" around the interwebs:

1. (of a word or phrase) Referred to in a proverb or idiom.
2. Well known, esp. so as to be stereotypical.

Examples of PROVERBIAL

Insanity roamed through her large midwestern tribe, cloistered in proverbial dark closets in gabled houses in areas of the country where no one else lived for miles and miles … —Lynne Tillman, Motion Sickness, 1991

A proverbial phrase or a proverbial expression is type of a conventional saying similar to proverbs and transmitted by oral tradition. The difference is that a proverb is a fixed expression, while a proverbial phrase permits alterations to fit the grammar of the context.^[1]^[2]

Another similar construction is an idiomatic phrase. Sometimes it is difficult to draw a distinction between idiomatic phrase and proverbial expression. In both of them the meaning does not immediately follow from the phrase. The difference is that an idiomatic phrase involves figurative language in its components, while in a proverbial phrase the figurative meaning is the extension of its literal meaning. Some experts classify proverbs and proverbial phrases as types of idioms.^[3]

I don't recall proverbs ever discussing "shit"... maybe I'm missing something here. Also, what I'm gathering is the word "proverbial" doesn't mean what you think it means and/or has no meaning.

It seems to be peppered in for emphasis unnecessarily. Why can't you just say "I lost my shit"? That's just as hyperbolic and has the added bonus of ~~MAKING SENSE!~~ being more succinct.

Help! Either I need enlightenment, or everyone else does, cuuuuuuzz something ain't right here. Until next time...

How old am I?

2012-01-25T09:30:00.000-08:00

In my little head, all by itself, came the thought "pull your damn pants up" when accosted by saggy pants on the train this morning... one foot officially in the grave. Until next time...

Sorry Cartman

2012-01-24T00:00:00.000-08:00

"Goddamn Hippies!!"

It's finally become too much to ignore. I've always known this time would come... the moment when I could no longer continue pushing away the truth.

That moment, the straw on the camel's back, occurred while reading the forward in The China Study. THE FORWARD! I'm 22% into it and am so disgusted with American food culture I could punch an eagle ("told you she's a terrorist").

Ignorance is bliss... until you're dying of cancer because your country thinks it can call pizza a fucking vegetable and feed it to children who don't know any better than "pizza is delicious and broccoli smells like daddy's farts".

That's just the most recent issue that's floating on the surface; it's deep down in the bowels of our society that the food issues get really fucked.

I'm not going to go into too many details and try and convert you into believing what I am finding or anything, but a few points that might help you along:

We can't walk around blindly accepting what we learned in our government funded schools, what the restaurants want us to see on TV, what the cattle farmers want us to believe, etc. The science is out there and it's up to us to learn the truth.

If you've been sitting on the fence because you feel overwhelmed (like I was), a good rule of thumb would be to ask yourself, "could a neanderthal eat this?". (I'm totally getting a patent on bracelets that say that and put WWJD out of business!) If a neanderthal couldn't eat it, neither can you. Our hominid bodies weren't made to process the synthesized food-like substances that we're putting in them, and that's why we're dying of heart disease and cancer.

The next level, when you get past the processed garbage into the whole foods that we need, keep in mind that neanderthal was a gatherer first and a hunter second. There weren't three "square meals" set in front of him by his loving wifey each day, complete with a "serving" of meat, veggies, carbs/starch, and dessert. Most of the time, he was out and about munching on berries and nuts he found on plants he came across.

A good place to start your research is with the easily accessible documentaries and books out there on this stuff. Food, Inc. is a popular one that will get you interested in what you're putting into your mouth hole. Books like In Defense of Food and The China Study are helpful, but there's so much more out there too; don't just mindlessly follow what these people say either; dig around for yourself and make informed decisions, lest we end up right where we started.

What I'm reading in The China Study is that nutrition (more specifically, veganism) is the cure to cancer, basically. Sounds crazy, but it's true. Put down the prime rib and pick up a bean salad and see how you feel. My Pilates instructor told us all about her battle with breast cancer that had spread to her lymph nodes (I think that's stage 4?) and subsequent illness from the treatment of breast cancer. She cured herself of Osteopenia with only the information in that book (zero drugs) and continues to be cancer free.

When she told her doctor that she didn't want the drugs he was prescribing, that she would work on her nutrition and see where that got her, he laughed in her face. When she accomplished her goals (in six months) and had the blood tests to prove it, she went back and shut him up pretty quick... which just goes to show that this country has not one clue the damage done by incorrect ideas we hold about health and nutrition.

After all of that motivation, I know this isn't going to be easy. I grew up on animals and their delicious by-products just like everyone else. I fucking LOVE cheese, woahmigad CHEESE!, fucking love it! When in doubt, MOAR CHEEEEEEESE!!!! ...but I love not suffering with chronic disease more. My sinuses are fucked; my skin hates me; my lady parts are overloaded with hormones; my bowels are easily upset, and that's just the beginning... I'm only 24! ...but I'm not putting the right fuel in my engine. Instead of the gasoline and oil it requires, I'm dumping crayons and WD-40 in there.

I'm not going to be burning my bras and talking to trees, but I'm not going to let anyone laughing at me or my choices stop me from living a better life.

Until next time...

Anniversary & Announcement

2012-01-21T00:00:00.000-08:00

Anniversary:

Happy Birthday llpaAAUUuse, Happy Birthday to You!

Two whole years chock full of information you never knew you needed; you're welcome. Again, not including my time on paper and/or myspace, but still, quite an accomplishment.

I now have readers, giveaways, anonymous commenters and stuff; it's pretty snazzy*. Not to mention finally having my own domain... it's like putting on digital big girl panties, so proud.

Thank you to all who read and support this blog. Without you, I would still just be writing a journal. Let's make 2012 the year of MOAR comments!

Announcement:

Now that I have some, I'm going to use my power for personal gain, but in the end, it's really a win-win. Remember the mentions here and there about a "project"? Well, it's finally decent enough to share with you. May I introduce,

The hat rack is going to break from the strain, I'm sure, but I'm going for it anyway! WOOOOO! Go big or go home!

It's still in the "testing this shit out" stage, so if you see something wonky on the website, or if you have questions that I didn't address, but aren't necessarily interested in the services, send me an email please, either here (lauraleane@llpause.com) or there (lauraleane@laurganized.com). I swear I won't be a clingy sales lady following up every two weeks because you were kind enough to mention I missed an "r" in "warranty", *pinky swear*.

Another aspect of the "testing this shit out" stage is the pricing. I encourage you to take full advantage of me during this testing period. Seriously, I have almost no idea what I'm doing in the business part of it all, so reap the benefits while they last! I'm a fast learner, so act now!

Natch, llpause fans get a DISCOUNT!

I hope to see the inside of your closet in the near future. Until next time...

*besides Lynette, who has been reading since myspace and encouraged me to get on blogger, love you!

She's a Terrorist!

2012-01-19T09:06:00.000-08:00

"We've found a terrorist; may we burn her?"
"I'm not a terrorist; I'm not a terrorist!"
"How do you know that she is a terrorist?"
"She drives a FIAT!"

Oooooops...?

In my haste to replace the 4-Runner while still blinded with grief, I didn't realize the cute little FIAT I was purchasing was going to make me a JLo fan AND a terrorist. Mistaken JLo fan, I can deal with, but terrorist is a little harsh. Maybe we need to do a little more research on FIAT's "alleged business activities in Iran" before we call FIAT owners and endorsers terrorists, hmkuay.

Also, "business activities" is very vague, let's not jump to conclusions.

FIAT isn't alone either:
3M

Bank ofAmerica

Boeing

CaterpillarInc.

ChiquitaBrands International Inc.

Chrysler

CiscoSystems, Inc.

CitigroupInc.

Coca-Cola

ConocoPhillips

DelMonte

DellComputer Corporation

EastmanKodak Company

ExxonMobil

Halliburton

Hewlett-Packard

HiltonWorldwide

HyattHotels

IBM

IntelCorporation

Johnson& Johnson

JPMorganChase

KraftFoods International Inc.

Marriott

MarsInc.MasterCard

NutraSweetCompany

PepsiCo

PfizerInc.

PhilipMorris International

SubaruRobin

Sweet'nLow

TysonFoods

Visa

WellsFargo

WhirlpoolCorporation

WrigleyCompany

are some of the corporations on UANI's list too.

"Well if your friends jumped off a bridge, would you do it too?" No, but that's not the point. We're all equally guilty of (unknowingly) supporting a company that has "business activity" with Iran, let's not pick on one group because they're easier targets. We get it, JLo's a bitch and a half; that doesn't mean FIAT's "business activity" is more detrimental than Coca-Cola's.

"Please! Please! This is supposed to be a happy occasion! Let's not bicker and argue about who killed who." Let me enjoy my new car... because I can't un-buy it and I'm already starting to get attached, so be nice. It looks so much better without the checkers and stripes that are finally removed, yaay!

I sent my e-mail to FIAT and encourage you to send an email to your company(ies) of choice, but keep in mind these giant corporations are going to do whatever the fuck they want because they can, so don't get too upset about it.

Until next time...

No Moar Interwebs?

2012-01-18T09:57:00.000-08:00

Honestly? I have such conflicting emotion about this SOPA/PIPA thing that I've lost my way. The conflict is between being upset about it and doing something helpful, or giving up on my government's ability to reason and moving to a bunker in a mountain. (Galt's Gulch anyone? I can write the newsletter for cabbage, or something.)

I understand the need for copyright protection; I understand the piracy that goes on; I don't understand how censoring the internet is going to fix things; I don't understand why piracy is higher on the list than poverty/national debt/public education/etc.; I don't understand why the government continually protects and defends the extremely rich when it should be more concerned with the majority of its people... something about 99% and whatnot.

Anyway, I won't be going dark for lack of decisiveness, but know that I don't appreciate the government's duct tape and paper clips approach to the issues either.

If you want some impassioned SOPA bloggage, The Oatmeal has a nice gif about it.

Until next time...

Sinuses are overrated.

2012-01-17T15:12:00.000-08:00

...and persnickety. I should probably invest some time in research on preventing my annual sinus infection. Sometimes I can beat it with my netti pot, but it seems like every January, no matter how vigilant I am... *sigh*

My weekend was action packed and fun regardless, which means I'm too tired to write a post about it today, sorry.

Until next time...

You have 6 hours...

2012-01-11T10:19:00.000-08:00

Readyyyyyy? GO!

Scheduled for removal tomorrow, going to drop off tonight... unless you convince me otherwise.
Ye or Ne:

"Fragile? It must be Italian!"

2012-01-10T10:28:00.000-08:00

I am now the proud (still heartbroken) owner of a 2012 FIAT 500 POP

*there was much rejoicing* "yaaay"

We have two car payments now; Pasta help us.

The ground rules:
No Hubby farts
(I will pull over and let him out; his car smells like rotting carcass and sweaty grass clippings.)
No eating
(I don't want a graveyard of french fries under the seats.)
No trash
(Hubby has a horrible habit of leaving wrappers, dirty napkins, and receipts all over cars.)
No dirty hands on the steering wheel (it's white, fuck).
I'm the only one allowed to drive it... unless he begs and gives me sexual favors.

The first thing we did? Went to the swap-meet and got a "FRAGILE" sticker in matching font. I don't care if no one will get the joke. I get it, and it makes me snortle every time I see it. It was a toss up between spelling it how he says it ("Fruh-geee-lay") and spelling it correctly... it came down to the lack of real estate on the window for quotes and hyphens.

It's Italian!... and white with a sunroof and black/cream interior; the dash is voice command and blue tooth with controls in the steering wheel; it plays and charges my iPod hands-free; the sunroof actually works; the lights aren't operational unless the key is on; it's simple, sophisticated, and too damn cute.

HOWEVER, there are decals on it that will be removed in the near future. The only white POP with automatic transmission they had was in Van Nuys, had a sunroof, and checkered racing themed decals all over it. They took the price of the sunroof off the sticker since the one I asked for didn't have a sunroof; we got a really good deal on top of that bonus too; it ended up being cheaper than a used one we saw at Carmax. I agreed to take the car under the condition they remove those decals gratis and ASAP! Hubby is getting used to them and my mom said "they're cute, you should leave 'em." I tried to like them; I really did; I just can't do it.

I'll try and get before and after shots, but I hardly see the light of day during the week, so no promises.

I'm trying to let myself move on. The cuteness and fun features are definitely helping with my grief, but it's still really strange to walk up to it in the morning instead of the Runner. Part of me was convinced we would never be able to get a new car for me and I would drive the Runner for the rest of my life, so it feels unreal, like they're going to call and say "LOL, j/k, bring it back now, kthxbi." Hubby is really excited for me. He's jealous about the voice command, and tiptronic transmission, and sport mode... but he's super happy and relieved I finally opted for the new car instead of fixing the Runner.

Until next time...

What, did your dog die?

2012-01-09T11:39:00.000-08:00

No... just my precious 4-Runner.

After 15 years of service to my family and 17 years off the lot, my 1995 Toyota 4-Runner SR5 V6 4x4 safely delivered me home for what is most likely the last time.

The beginning of the end:

Two weeks ago, when it was FREEZING, literally, 30 degrees Fahrenheit outside, the Runner was shaky when I started it up, which was strange, but it is also strange to have 30 degree weather in Southern California, and once I got it revved up and going, it was purring like a kitten, so I didn't think anything of it. In the past, issues with the Runner would start and not cease until it died or was fixed, so a warm up correcting the issue was, what I thought, a good sign.

Fast forward to January 5, 2012, the morning shows no signs of damage, not even the iffy start up. I get back to my baby after work at the train station, remember that I forgot to change the dead battery in my gate remote and am going to have to wait for someone to come in behind me and open it, start the car, and it's not good. As I'm driving, it's warming up and getting better, but I'm shaken.

As I'm waiting at the light to turn onto my street, catastrophe. Violent shaking and awful grinding consume the Runner and I'm starting to get weepy, patting the steering wheel, whispering encouraging words to it.

I pull up to the gate and turn off the car to save what little there is left until someone opens the gate. It takes about 5 minutes for someone to show up and I start the car again, shaking and grinding continue as we hobble into the complex and coast as much as possible to my parking spot. By the time Hubby gets home and we go out so I can show him the noise, it won't start and only makes an awful metal on metal grinding noise for a second.

I'm panicky and crying, but still hopeful because we just replaced all the hoses, radiator, battery, etc. and the engine rebuild is only 20,000 miles old. I call my dad tearfully and with a heavy heart to make arrangements to have it towed to the shop the next morning in the hopes that they can fix it over the weekend. I'm comforted that it will be taken care of while I'm at work and I won't have to see it on the tow truck, again.

The following afternoon was the day my world came crashing down.

The diagnosis: a cracked header, again. For those who do not speak mechanicese, the entire, very expensive, engine portion is no longer viable and will need to be either replaced or rebuilt, again.

I'm told this happened because of the overheating issue last spring... the engine overheated because the hose that keeps that from happening was cracked and not doing its job. We replaced $600 worth of hoses and thought that would be the end of it. *sigh*

This weekend was ROUGH! The cost of replacing/re-re-building the 4-Runner weighed against the purchase of a new vehicle was placed in front of me and I was asked to choose.

There would never have been a moment's hesitation had it been some new issue. Something we hadn't already stressed about and squeezed and pinched to repair... but we've been here already, and it looks as though any little thing happening is going to trigger another cracked header. That's my vehicle's thing now; we've identified it; now there's a decision to make.

The $$$ is not the issue, because it's the same in the end, really. I can pay a nice chunk of money each month and have my 4-Runner in and out of the shop for the rest of my life, or I can pay a nice chunk of money each month and have a new car that I can drive every day and not have to constantly listen to for strange noises and check for odd smells.

The Hubby, in his infinite hatred of my 4-Runner, though being as understanding as possible so as not to induce further crying fits and hyperventilation, suggested we look in autotrader for a nice used car...

If you can't see the fault in that plan, stop reading now.

WHAT!!!! WHY THE FUCK WOULD I BUY SOMEONE ELSE'S PROBLEM WHEN I COULD SPEND THE SAME MONEY TO GET MY (precious) PROBLEM BACK INTO MY ARMS AND HOLD IT FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER!!!!?

The question is the 4-Runner or a NEW car, nothing else. NOTHING ELSE!

Of course, I'm not completely stupid, the value of the car drops significantly as soon as you drive it off the lot, "new" car meaning something 2010 or newer. He was suggesting we purchase something from autotrader... that's not going to work.

After much heartbreak, mourning, and anxiety, I decided to leave the broken 4-Runner with my father and purchase a new car that will be reliable and not my awesome 4-Runner.

I'm not going to soil the memory of the 4-Runner and the tale of it's demise with talk of my new car in this post.

For now, let's all have a moment of silence for the loss of my beautiful vehicle, that I will have back when my father can no longer care for it, that I miss dearly and will never be able to replace. The new car has big shoes to fill, and the empty place in my heart will never completely heal.

Until next time...

Obligatory "Best Of" Post

2012-01-03T09:23:00.000-08:00

People still shoot guns in the sky at12:00 a.m. New Years Day? STILL?!!??

I thought natural selection was supposed to fix things like that? ...or at the very least, middle school science.

I guess the problem with the lack of natural selection in this area is the bullets don't usually fall on the idiot pulling the trigger. AND idiots who fire guns into the sky aren't usually the type to have an edumacation.

Whelp, here's to another year of perpetual ignorance and instantly outdated apple products *clink*.

AND NOW

Top Ditherings of 2011:

It IS the rabbit was the #1 most viewed post of 2011 and showed up in google images for a short while when you searched for "holy grail evil rabbit"... and there's gonna be more nerdy tattoo action in 2012, SCORE!

Taste the drunken rainbow was quite the adventure. Everyone loved their holiday libations and even the stomach-bile-looking-all-flavors-mixed-together vodka was DEE-licious.

Heads Up 7Up, Spanx very much and L.O.G.F. brought us a little closer together... or farther apart. Whatever, 'slong as you learned something.

We were bored together: LinkyLinks and ThinkyThinks

The Speear-its *cue thunder clap*

Lots of Jesus Rape going on at the new train station: It's so super important, you guys. I also got passionate about Sexual Rape prevention: He said no, you guys.

You learned a lot about my childhood:
Fish ≠ Amazeballz
STOOOOOOP!!!
BLOOOOON!
My Last Ride on an ATV

and my love for inanimate objects/vehicles My Precious, the 4-Runner

We also know a little more about Hubby now: It finally happened [disclaimer: he hates that I wrote that and posted it for everyone to see, so now you can feel bad for him and call Hubby Protective Services on me or something] & Forever Unclean [he's still proud of this one though]

I had a deep thought... for a moment.

We moved: Chateau Largent

I finally made an adequate post about our wedding: October 10, 2009

AND *drum roll*

A domain name was purchased, YAAAAAAY!

2011 was pretty fun; let's make 2012 even better! Until next time...

"They" can ALL be wrong, sometimes.

2011-12-30T08:01:00.000-08:00

Hubby: "Did you order something from a company called Cuisine Art?"

Laura's Inner Monologue: *scoff*, he doesn't know anything about culinary... *theatrical echo in my brain* "Cuisine... Art..."

2 beats go by... WOAHMYGAWD, IT'S CUISINE ART! "Cuisine" and "Art", put together to make a cleaver company name for kitchen appliances...

All my life, everyone around me, commercials, comedians..."QUEEZinart". I never questioned it, never once. *shakes head in disbelief* I've been stumbling around all these years, accepting blindly. It's Cuisin(e)art, not Queezinart.

Laura: "You're fucking brilliant sometimes, you know that?"
Hubby: "Yeah."

Join us in the light. Until next time...

a honeymoon, finally

2011-12-28T10:13:00.000-08:00

Speaking of bikinis...

Hubby's work sent out the results of the vacation lottery yesterday. That makes it sound too exciting. The "vacation lottery" at Hubby's work is not some prize infused lottery of awesome. It's stress filled hoping and wishing for the days you requested off for the year... days you have to know in advance and ask for before the beginning of the year. He had to submit his vacation request two months ago, for 2012... how the eff is that supposed to be fair?

Anyway, he was actually one of the lucky ones in the lottery of 30 employees who got their first choice.

We're going to THE CARIBBEAN! from November 3 to 17, 2012 (please don't rob us). On our way over, we're making a pit stop for 3 nights in Orlando to visit Universal's World of Harry Potter (awesomeous totalus!).

Let the countdown, itinerary making, frantic money saving, and attempts at bikini weight loss BEGIN!

This is our real honeymoon. We had a mini one with the leftover days in Vegas including friends and family after the wedding, but this is where we get away from it all, just the two of us, finally! We'll celebrate our 3rd anniversary on 10/10/12, then head out for our honeymoon a month later? Who does that? Lots of people, from what I hear. It's actually pretty smart because there was no way we could have afforded the beautiful rock on my finger (please don't rob me) AND a white sand honeymoon in one year... word.

The best part of it is, my parents gifted us a week of their time share for the island part of our trip, so all we have to do is get there and have money for food and we're set. Time shares are great, when someone who loves you owns one. We went once to a time share "presentation" and decided it would be easier to have one big awesome vacation every few years than to be pigeon-holed into paying for a decent vacation every year. We're young, there's still time to throw our money away if we change our minds.

The getting there part is probably the hardest though. We were playing on the interwebs looking at all the different travel sites (kayak, AAA, etc.) and figured if we don't want to pay $2,000 a person, we're going to have 25 hours of travel on each end of our trip, bummer. We'll just have massages or something scheduled at each destination, te-he.

I'm going to start getting Hubby used to the idea of awful public transportation now, so that by the time we actually get on the plane, he's so apathetic to the whole thing, he just goes through the motions like a zombie... cuz, man! He's the biggest complainer ever when it comes to being around people, regardless the level of his choice. Driving, malls, theme parks, sporting events, movies, the noisy neighbor, etc., he can't handle it.

Example:

We went to a high school football game to support his cousin's coaching. He chose to sit two rows above the band. Why he wanted to sit there, I have no idea, but I didn't protest. I know he's a band geek and maybe he wanted to be close to his brethren... who knows.

Obviously, the band has to stand from time to time and play songs and such... every time this happened, he got upset and complained about it, even though HE wanted to sit there. I and the people we were with offered to move to another location (there were plenty of open seats), but he refused. Finally, I had to step in and take charge on the heels of a fresh complaint saying "you have two options, we get up and sit over there, or you stop complaining because YOU are the one who wants to sit here." It worked; he stopped.

So, in order to prevent this type of complaint arising from the awful in airports and on planes, I need to take action now to wear him down... because I'm likely to lose my shit if I have to put up with over 50 hours of complaint in a two week period. It would be like taking all the material every comedian has ever done on airports/planes/lines, hitting shuffle to play over the loud speaker on the slow boat to China (with all that mail no one ever got).

Wish us luck! 311 sleeps!

Until next time...

Unwrapped

2011-12-27T15:36:00.000-08:00

Finally! It's over!

It's so over, Target already has swimwear for sale. I wish I was kidding. I just ate more than a year's worth of calories in holiday deliciousness, and you think I want to look at bikinis, Target? You're out of your fucking mind.

The goods:

From Santa Hubby:

Real Diamond Earrings, Finally

New Hotness, Kindle Touch

Kick Ass Footie PJs...

That I was too tall for in the size he got,

and they have no more of at Target...

You know, to make room for the swimwear... assholes.

Gir Hoodie and matching shirt "The squirrel and I are friends!"

Wicked awesome watch ring, in charcoal with a pink face.

Pretty scarves, gloves, nail polish, hoop earrings, and...

this gorgeous necklace:

that he got me last year for my birthday.

He's got taste... just, just one taste. Poor dear, watching my face open the box was quite a stressful experience for him because I thought it was a joke, that he had wrapped my old necklace, so my laughter and "no seriously, what'd you get me" look weren't expected. AND when we returned the second necklace, the attendant put a note on his account for them to double check his past purchases before he makes a new one.

Since he went a little overboard anyway, with the extravagant and loving gifts (and because the Runner needs new tires), we simply returned the spare necklace instead of making an exchange.

From Surly Gurly:

My favorite piece, that she printed and customized for me.

From Santa Mom & Dad:

POOOOHOOOOLES!!!! te-he

...and gift cards to various awesome places to eat and/or shop.

From Sis:

Mine is a little different...

because she got it from a pipe maker in Venice Beach selling them 3 for $1...

which she told me as soon as I opened it...

which didn't make me feel uncomfortable at all...

From Santa Mom-I-L (from my amazon list):

The BEST.WATCH. EVER!!!

If you don't know why this is the best watch ever, peep here.

serious homemaker bidness

...also the jewelry cleaner I asked for, B&BW soap, and the yearly holiday pajamas.

From Sis-I-L:

super trendy and soft scarf

...and various other cool things from co-workers, attorneys/bosses, etc. POINT IS, gifts are cool, it's the jesus part I disagree with.

What did I get everyone in return? Besides Hubby and persons under the age of 21/recovering alcoholics, everyone got

Until next time...

confetti rains from the ceiling

2011-12-27T11:58:00.000-08:00

Mostly Harmless? That's my team... and the team I beat to win the championship is the other girl in our "Boys vs. Girls" Fantasy Football League... and the stinky boys who said we didn't know anything about football? ...fought for 3rd place. Like I predicted, they regret the challenge.

Sure, I came in 2nd in the "regular season", but I'm the one holding the trophy at the end. Better luck next year fellas.

Until next time...

peeks between fingers

2011-12-21T14:05:00.000-08:00

Is it over yet? No? Kay, see you in 5 days.

Until next time...

DONE!

2011-12-19T10:40:00.000-08:00

Just under an hour online, 24 minutes in Best Buy, and 6 pounds of Skittles later, DONE! Santa can suck it.

Are you done yet? What'd you get me? :P

Until next time...

The Yodeling Pickle

2011-12-16T14:02:00.000-08:00

We just had our White Elephant party; it was epic... again.

Last year there was Chicken Boy.

This year... Electronic Yodeling Pickle.

You know Mr. P snagged it and placed it gingerly next to Chicken Boy... and plays it randomly, obviously.

Other great gifts include:

another Shake Weight

with matching Spy Glasses this time

Butter Boy

Coal

Yoda LightSaber Pen

and some cool things that people can actually use like Target $$, a Martini Shaker, Fondu Set, etc., but who cares about that crap?

This is the Pre-Holiday-Party Party. We go out for fancy-schmancy dinner and wine that costs more than my car is worth tomorrow night. STOKED!

Until next time...

Drugs are bad, hmmkuay.

2011-12-15T08:34:00.001-08:00

Allergies, let's discuss.

More specifically, allergy medication.

The allergies make you foggy and miserable; the medications make you drowsy and slightly less miserable for approximately 4 hours and may or may not make allergy symptoms worse but will most definitely give you a sinus infection that will replace your allergy symptoms with a slew of way more fun symptoms that probably will be fixed by a z-pack but then you'll probably have dysentery and/or a yeast infection (if you have a vagina) and then you'll have to eat a lot of yogurt and/or cheese to fix that but the cultures mess with antibiotics and they're not out of your system completely so you're probably gonna die... which would be a welcome relief.

A Pilates family member gave me Clor-Trimeton to try last night (we're allergy sisters) since I had never heard of it and it's magical for getting rid of THE ITCH ITCH ITch Itch itch itch itch. The one that's deep down in your head, inside your ears, in your throat... the sandpaper trying to catch the Golden Snitch in your head. She totally warned me about the drowsiness and I was totally responsible and took it before bed so I could sleep off the 4 hours and maybe get some cough-for-no-gawtdamn-reason free sleep. It is indeed a magical drug and I'm still moslty itch free, more than 4 hours later.

However, I'm also still really drowsy... because I forgot the part about me being such a sleepy person to begin with AND the 6 hour power nap I get between school and work on Wednesday nights.

"What, Laura, 6 hours? That's plenty!" No, no it's not. My system requires no less than 9 hours per night and a hot cup of coffee upon waking, or we gots problems. Throw drugs in the mix and I'm slower than a 1-11 in Death Valley.

Totally worth it though, seriously. The Itch could probably get me to put the straight-jacket on peaceably. Just gotta make sure I'm getting my requisite sleep time.

Lots of complaining this week, so... Bonus!

Makes me feel all warm and snugly inside.

Until next time...

Let me pencil you in.

2011-12-14T15:41:00.000-08:00

Why are the holidays so damn hectic?

Office parties, friend parties, family visits/parties, travel, gift exchanges, shopping, wrapping, hosting, TIRED! and it's just begun. There are at least 25 more days of pre, during, and post holiday shenaniganz I will have to try and juggle.

On the other hand, it's a great time because that's when everyone wants to get together. Granted, there are a lot of get togethers with people you could do without, but a lot of stuff going on with people you wish for more time with during the rest of the year. For some reason, cramming 4 events in 4 very separate locations is totally doable between December 15th and January 15th, but not any other time of year... because if it was like this all the time we'd all have killed ourselves by now... or we could spread it all out?

Just this weekend alone, I have to be in Los Angeles at work, travel to San Clemente, get home to Ontario, sleep for a few hours, run some errands in the morning, head out to Anaheim Hills in the afternoon, back to Ontario to get ready, stop by San Dimas real quick, then off to Dinner in Santa Monica, and back home to Ontario all within a 30 hour window. YAAAY!

You know I google mapped that shit for you, approximately 300 miles.

Don't even get me started with next weekend; I don't want to think about it.

Maybe next year I'll find myself in a temporary coma or something. Can you pay for that to happen?

Until next time...

The stockings were hung...

2011-12-12T15:36:00.000-08:00

Did I mention the Hubby is 35 going on 7? Excuse me, 7 and a HALF.

Sooooooo, Christmas is an important holiday for him, regardless of the religious affiliation. He wants a real tree, and stockings, and lights, and wrapped gifts, and Christmas movies and Christmas music... etc.

I can take it or leave it, but it really means something special to him. This year is our first Christmas on our own WITH a fire place. So our first year of stockings.

Stockings are fucking expensive. $13 for a gaudy sock? Are you kidding me? ... and that's the low end! If you want something with class, you're talking at least $20.

Forget making something ourselves. The fabric alone would be more than $20... and for that kind of money, might as well not go through the hassle of D.I.Y.; I always say.

We got our tree last weekend. It's considered a "mini" tree over in the bargain bin at the tree lot, and that was still a cool $40. They just rape you from all sides, don't they?

Lights, ornaments, skirt, water bucket thing, all said and done on the tree... $120. That's starting with the BARGAIN tree.

Therefore, our budget for stockings was $0. Plus, in our looking, I was quite unmoved by the selection of stockings. Nothing really stood out as a.) worth the money, b.) pretty/cool/neat/nice/fun enough to look at constantly on my mantle OR c.) ugly enough to be ironic like ugly Christmas sweaters.

In comes Target to my rescue. They have these fancy stockings, $13 each... in miniature... for $4. They're about 8 inches and cute as a button... and $4. You can't stuff them with B&BW soaps and/or socks, but earrings and/or small electronics fit nice and cozy.

Now I have to figure out how to purchase things to put in there without Hubby knowing about it. *sigh*

Until next time...

Moment of Silence

2011-12-09T09:28:00.001-08:00

He was one of a handful of Pilates elders who studied directly with Joe (and was Clara's favorite).

He created the "Fletcher Towel" and was very influential in the rise of the Pilates Method.

He will be greatly missed.

Until next time...

Blogger Fail

2011-12-07T13:36:00.001-08:00

*sigh*

Something wonky is going on with Blogger right now. Things are posting late and out of order, GOSH! By the time you get this post it may be fixed, but just know that I'm not the one screwing this up.

Until next time...

Fish ≠ Amazeballz

2011-12-06T11:05:00.000-08:00

Lake Havasu, AZ circa 1995

No 1,000 words, that picture says exactly 5 words: "Laura is TERRIFIED of fish!"
Always have been, always will be.

In my defense, a not-quite-dead-yet fish was getting his last flop over with right when the camera was capturing the moment my dad BEGGED me to pose for. I didn't enjoy the fishing trip (with my Disney fishing pole) either.

Growing up, we had a GIANT koi pond in our yard. Like, small swimming pool complete with waterfall off of the smaller pool/Jacuzzi type deal.

My BIGGEST fear growing up was falling into that pond and having the fish touch me. Even thinking of it now gives me the willies.

When I say "the willies" I mean "THE MOTHERFUCKING WILLIES!"

Every few years or so, we'd make a big production of moving the fish to our used kiddie pool at the end of summer, draining the pond, and scrubbing all the filth and muck out of it. Dad, Mom, and big sis had to do most of the transferring and getting down in the muck, while too young little sis and I were there for moral support and fetching things for them.

At the end of the ordeal the pond would be refilled, the fish transferred back, and we'd be able to see our fish again. Everyone would have such a fun time feeding the fish, with their feet in the pond and letting the fish suck on their toes. I would have no part of it and couldn't even get past the thought of a fish touching me, let alone sucking on my toes.

Needless to say I haven't gotten over this one like my blooooon fear; I don't eat fish, I don't own fish, and there is ZERO chance of snorkeling/scuba-ing in my future. Lakes are not happening, and aquariums are a complete waste of money for me. Hence! why it was necessary to bully me into going to the UCSD aquarium on our road trip over the weekend. I was outnumbered 3 to 1 and Hubby was determined to "see the fishies".

Adorbz Hubby... who needs kids?

I LOVE the ocean, and swimming, and sand and sun and all that jazz (I was the one with my bare feet in the water and climbing on the rocks), but the creatures in the deep are pretty damn disgusting and I want nothing to do with them. Not in a "let's keep polluting and killing the fish cuz they don't deserve to share a planet with me" way. I'm all for preserving our oceans and the creatures therein, but I don't want to see them, eat them, or touch them.

Not all of them are hideous, I know. Some tropical fish are pretty and/or cute (Nemo?). Beta fish are very pretty. I'll look at those, still won't get near 'em. But...

Seriously, some of them look like that! I'm going to go vomit now, brb.

That cyclopes albino shark thing everyone was raving about a while ago... gave me nightmares.

Until next time...

P.S. Looking up those pictures to add in here was not fun, you're welcome.

Road Trip!

2011-12-05T11:05:00.003-08:00

How was the weekend?

Mine was very busy, tiring, and EPIC!

It starts with The Quest for Colima's Burritos

*angels singing with horned accompaniment*

We head down to Oceanside, CA and quickly complete our first quest and are so satisfied with our expediency, we venture onto The Quest for Award Winning Margaritas

*the angels were on a break so we have a singing (and giggling) Elmo doll, with horned accompaniment*

This quest takes much longer to complete as we are thwarted by an impromptu aquarium visit, sea lion watching/protecting, flatulent and sweaty butt-cracks, navigation errors, and curbs (that may or may not be driveways).

Once we arrive in San Diego, obtain the precious margaritas, and imbibe, we enter a gift shop to make hasty, drunken shopping decisions... that will work out in the end.

Instead of recuperating the next day, there is much hair doing and anatomy study grouping.

I am le tired, and very full of carne asada.

Until next time...

Equal Opportunity Asshole

2011-12-01T08:33:00.001-08:00

Last night, when I got home from school at 10:30 p.m., Hubby was lying in bed sniffling and sneezing. I rushed to his aid by administering medications and propping him up on his pillows.

This morning, he said he was better but still foggy and scratchy (it's pretty windy out here right now, so allergies are inevitable).

In an abundance of caution, I locked myself in the bathroom and blew him a goodbye kiss through the door.

Kind of a dick move, but he's already shared his cubicle farm diseases with me TWICE this year and I won't have it! I feel bad; he sounded super sad puppy sad, but I've drawn the line in the sand.

If he's just suffering wind allergies and recovers, I'll apologize.

If he's sick again, I'm moving to the guest room. If he gets another sinus/throat infection, I'll be staying at my mother's.

Until next time...

L.O.G.F.

2011-11-30T10:26:00.001-08:00

"Gentlemen Only, Ladies Forbidden", or the long version of Golf, is probably something my history teacher made up to boost his coolness level, because Wikipedia says nothing about it. We're just going to assume it's legit, and then spin it for our purposes here...

This post is L.O.G.F.

YOU WERE WARNED!

...and let's be honest, real "L"s wouldn't read this either. This is more Mrs. Rhett Butler's type of conversation.

Here we go----------------------------------

Menstruation, no matter what cutesy name you put on it (time of the month, Aunt Flow, etc.), you're still oozing icky liquids out of your lady bits, for several days. It's not pretty; it's not fun; it's life.

In my 24 inquisitive years on this planet, I have learned a couple things about oozing liquids from my lady bits that make my life easier... and now I'm going to be violently crass and tell you about them. Like with the spanx hole and not caring what people think. Those were your warm up exercises to get to this point. Slowly I have been desensitizing you so I can bring you further down the rabbit hole. MUAHAhahahahaahah!

POINT IS, ladies, let's help each other out. I'll go first.

Item One: Diva Cup

Stop using tampons, now! They're chemicals and toxins and awfulness in your body... and once the string gets pee on it, your whole day is ruined.

I got the Diva Cup 4 years ago and have never looked back.

Ladies with IUDs should be cautious, as with anything, and they have the typical C.Y.A. info on the site and box, but you're probably gonna be fine... it's not like this thing goes any farther than your man's unit, LOLAMIRITE? (seriously though, talk to your doctor just to be safe... you only get one set of lady bits for your whole life; take care of it!)

Tampons are bad for you, bad for the planet, and bad for your sanity. This safe, friendly cup goes in, sits there unnoticed all day, gets rinsed before bed/in the morning AND THAT'S IT! Twice a day! For the rest of your life! (sometimes I only do it once cuz I'm lazy like that; there's no risk of TSS with this guy so it's fine)

NOTES/TIPS/TRICKS:

If you're heavier on certain days, plan to have a few leaks... nothing a panty liner won't handle like a champ.

I HIGHLY recommend emptying it in the shower, even if you're not going to "take a shower". Just go in with your hair up and point the nozzle at a good angle and get in there and take care of bidness. This is especially helpful on heavy days.

Yes, it's completely possible/practical to empty it in a public restroom (granted you've got the guts to go into a public restroom in the first place) if necessary. Hands are washable, toilet paper is free, and people are loud in there (usually), if you gotta, just do it.

A fun note, if you're easily excited... sexually, a vigorous jog with your Diva Cup could be very interesting for you. On that same note, if you're "sensitive", don't go running in public... unless you're into that.

Cleaning it thoroughly is not necessary each day, but at the end of the cycle, you want to give it a good once over to make sure it doesn't stain and smell bad next time. I simmer it in some salty lemon water for 10 to 15 minutes and use a wash cloth to scrub it down. Super Floss is great for keeping the little holes clean. Kid sized toothbrushes are helpful tools too.

The website has a lot of great info, but if you still have questions, lauraleane@llpause.com. Seriously, I will answer any question. Nothing is off limits.

Item Two: Diapers

Mommy, WOW! I'm a big kid now *bumpbump*.

Ladies, those "overnight" pads are THE biggest joke, ever! No matter how many you layer in there, there's always that one drop that slides down your buttcrack, drops off the pad, soaks through your special "period" undies, through your cozy jammies, onto your special "period" sheets, EVERY. DAMN. TIME!

I, personally, found it very difficult to sleep, tossing and turning until I found a spot where I felt protected and comfy. Waking in the middle of the night with a panic that it leaked, and having to check and make sure before I could start the process over again... maybe I'm crazy, but I'm sharing this with you anyway.

Take those period undies and sheets and throw them in the trash.

Wearing disposable underwear on heavy nights has changed my life! That one drop, drips onto the absorbent cotton surrounding the disposable underwear and stays there until I throw it away the next morning. I'll give you a minute to let that soak in... *rim shot*

Nuff said.

Of course, the Diva Cup handles it on regular nights.

Again, questions to lauraleane@llpause.com.

Deeper and deeper we fall, together. Until next time...

LOOKLOOKLOOK!

2011-11-30T10:20:00.001-08:00

LOOKEYLOOKEYLOOK!!!!

*jumps up and down pointing*

Up there ↑

Higher

LOOK UP!! In the URL BOX!!!!

*huge grin*

YAAAAAAAAY!!!!!

I'm learning lots of fun things as part of that project I mentioned that's still not ready yet. Lots of fun and exciting things that you get to enjoy with me soon... maybe on the anniversary of llPause? We'll see.

Until next time...

Indeed, Sir

2011-11-29T09:23:00.001-08:00

While we're on a roll with small posts today; I'll just leave this for your viewing pleasure:

It's for Australia, but it applies to all human kind.

Did I just Gay Rights rape you? Damn right I did! You know you liked it... can't rape the willing.

Until next time...

Thankful for face shields?

2011-11-28T09:18:00.001-08:00

How was the Turkey Day? ...and subsequent shopping nightmare? Hopefully you weren't one of the victims of nutters with pepper spray. I remember the good ol' days of Black Friday, when people had to be in the know through a friend of a friend of an employee; when the line was from the door to the end of the parking lot within 15 minutes of the doors opening; when people would peaceably walk into the store, grab a cart, and calmly make their way to the TV pile; when you would go at 4:00, get your TV, and go home to sleep until someone made pancakes; now, people don't even know why it's called Black Friday anymore (it was crowned the biggest shopping day of the year and thus would propel stores out of the red and into the black).

The dream land of cheap electronics I speak of was circa 2002, when the big deal was a 42" tube TV that had a VCR built in for $99. We crammed 2 of them into The 4-Runner and were home before 4:30. That was the last happy memory I have of Black Friday. Now it's all camping for mediocre deals, murderous fits of rage, and an entire sea of people everywhere you go all four days of the Thanksgiving weekend. No thanks!

The Hubby and I stayed our asses out the way with calm family dinners, apartment decorating, hot toddies, A Mammoth Christmas, chores, and homework.

I also went and saw Breaking Dawn with Lynette after she magiced my hair into cherry cola awesomeness:

As close to "outside" I can get in this joint.

It looks amazeballz with my skin cuz I iz W.H.I.T.E! Like, transparent, fit in with the Cullens white. Sans sparkle, of course.

My first attempt at photoshop...

I want to know it all now!

This is so unfair.

...and we're out of time. Until next time...

Gobble Gobble

2011-11-23T10:40:00.001-08:00

Hand turkeys are the best! Even though this was made on the computer, you bet your ass my hand was on the monitor. The pinky never comes out right though... or the demeanor.

I wish everyone a HAPPY and DELICIOUS Thanksgiving.

Until next time...

Packing Tape Reads Pause

2011-11-21T12:37:00.001-08:00

Remember? Kay good. Now listen:

Old & Busted:

vs.

New Hotness:

WOAH! Thank You Scotch Sure Start Packing Tape!!

My bitching and complaining is changing the world. Next on the list, CURE FOR CANCER, YAAAY!!!

Until next time...

P.S. No, they didn't mail me a sample or anything cool like that, I WISH! I just happened upon it and thought I would share the awesomeness, as always.

Too emo/old?

2011-11-21T11:03:00.001-08:00

How do you like the new visual stimuli? I got rid of the happy dots and fun because the colors didn't translate into awesome on every computer. On my netbook it was downright fugly... so we're doing the black and white deal with a sploosh of red and blue (you'll have to dig a little for the blue).

How was the weekend? Lots of rain, fires, and cooking were had.

I made THREE double batches of Grandma De La O's Sweet Potato Casserole; that's a lot of potato peeling/dicing/boiling/mashing.

On top of making my grandmother's recipe all day Sunday, I aged myself at least 40 years by purchasing a pair of Clarks for work and painting my nails in this color. Seriously though, wearing supportive shoes (that may not be the prettiest things ever) is way smarter, and my bones will be happier in the long run, so I'll take the sideways glances and laughter in stride... *rim shot* Maybe if I get black socks and/or longer pants, I won't simultaneously look like an old man, sweeeet.

I got a crock pot! I'm so excited! I already made beer broth beef stew that I have jarred for lunches... I maybe threw another 20 years onto that last paragraph, but it's still awesome!

You think I remembered to grab a jar for my lunch today? Not to save my life.

More weekend cooking: "Random what's in the fridge, what I saw as I walked into the store, and what sounded delicious POUTINE!" Frozen Tater Tots (baked crispy) + Shredded Cheddar Cheese (baked more) + Archer Farms Green Chili and Cheddar Cheese Chicken Sausage (diced into tiny pieces) + Turkey Gravy (heated with the sausage in it) + Two Forks = Rainy Day Lunch TO DIE FOR!

Yeah, we haven't been eating very healthy things at Chateau Largent lately; so sue me. It's cold outside!

What have you been stuffing into your face on these cold afternoons?

Until next time...

Life's too short.

2011-11-18T11:51:00.001-08:00

You guys, can we talk about something serious for a sec?

Stop hating your job, right now, stop it!

How do you stop hating your job? You get one you like, nay, LOVE!

How do you get a job you love? You keep looking for one until you find it.

Been there, done that, job hated, life moved on.

I was once a slave to the backstabbing, cut throat, frustrating, tear shedding, pressure filled, vomit inducing, stress job. I was brainwashed into thinking I was one of the lucky ones and wouldn't survive without the protective wing of mother bird.

Welp, mother bird threw my "called in sick without being sick" ass out of the nest... and guess what!

I lived.

Not only did I live, but I learned.

I learned that there is ZERO reason to stay in a bad working environment.

OH, and I did all this soul searching and job moving from 2008-2010... smack dab in the middle of
THE GREAT RECESSION ESSION ESSION ESSion ession ession ession

Banks were closing, unemployment was through the roof, people were panicking... I changed jobs, moving UP, twice. (both in happiness and money, WIN!)

It helps if you're young and/or awesome, sure, but it's not mandatory. All you have to do is make finding a better job your job. You can't just sit there and wait for a great opportunity to fall in your lap, especially if you're on the larger end of the number line; you're not getting any younger!. Even using an agency, like I've recommended in the past, follow up; go to more than one agency; find people in the agency you feel good about. You have to take responsibility for your life and your happiness.

Start by closing the Farmville and opening the Google search. If you have a specific company in mind, or position in mind, it helps, sure, but even if you don't, just looking at the postings is a great start.

I find that even the search lifts the spirits, because you have that gleam of hope growing, of bigger and better things.

Hey, and if you move to a new job that you thought would be awesome and they sucked you in with promises of bonuses and team spirit that don't exist... guess what... FIND ANOTHER ONE!

This lady, is not only HI-larious, but she also has a long standing background in HR and has some GREAT advice and templates for resumes, interviews, etc. I recommend you go look; search for "case of the mondays"; it's a Monday feature on her blog.

Another thing you can do? Go talk to your boss about how you feel. Tell them that you're not happy and you feel like a change is the only way to fix it. If they fire you/treat you worse for being honest, obviously it's for your benefit. (also, if they fire you for calling in sick when you weren't really sick, you're waaaay better off; trust me. don't ask how they found out, long story... which involves even more reasons not to work there, ever.)

There is always a way around the money issues. I don't care how many kids you have, how much your mortgage is, how many cars you pay for, what kind of student loans you've got over your head, there is NO reason to be unhappy every single day. You hear about it all the time, how people do without, yank themselves up from their bootstraps, and LOVE their new life... Take a chance; make an improvement; be happy!

Another thing that stops people is their work friends. Folks, if you're that close that you can't bear leaving them for a better workplace, they'll stick around and morph into life long friends, or maybe even join you. Just trust me on this one.

Now, on the other side of that same coin, some things are unavoidable.

Idiot co-workers; just keep to yourself. Conniving backstabbing co-workers who ruin your life, okay, move on, but some blundering idiot that can't remember to breathe without a calendar reminder (that you had to make for them cuz there's no way they could do that either even though they asked you to make it in an email which is essentially the same thing... I digress) is going to be at every job in the whole universe.

The douchey boss who thinks his shit doesn't stink; can't live with 'em; can't live without 'em. Asshole boss who verbally abuses, commands unreasonable tasks, threatens your position with the company at every turn, requires a paper trail as proof of innocence for every minor mistake, is inappropriate, makes you set your teeth on edge and tear up every time s/he walks by, okay, move on, but the blowhard who could sell leaves to a tree and use the word synergy more times in a breath than Lil John can say SHOTS in a chorus... time to shut up and deal.

People eating your nomz from the community fridge; get a mini fridge for your desk. You have to keep everything at your desk under lock and key even if you're just going to the bathroom, okay, move on, but if your precious leftovers go missing on a regular basis, you have to find ways to outsmart the perp because those jerks come with the office space; they're everywhere; live and learn.

AWFUL commute, take the train/bus/ride-share or move. When you find the right fit, it's worth it.

ETC!!

The point is, don't get all "Hey, she's right, I QUIT!" because someone took the last coffee stirrer without saying anything.

If you're more than just a little displeased with your working environment, enough that your loved ones notice your irritation, or you notice your dread at going in every day, or if it's more money/appreciation for hard work you're after, time to say something or move on.

I did, twice, and I have NEVER looked back.

Until next time...

P.S. This general idea is applicable to many aspects of life... relationships, living arrangements, etc. Stop being unhappy; there's no reason and it's a waste of your precious time on earth. *smooches*

Yeah, it's bad.

2011-11-17T16:03:00.001-08:00

I just had a panic attack about spelling. I typed latte in an email... and it took me back to this post where I brought a lot of attention to my spelling and stylistic preferences for the word... and I had the fleeting thought that I hadn't spelled it correctly with two "t"s... SHAT MYSELF!

That's totally normal, right?

Of course it was spelled properly, pffshshsh, as if.

Until next time...

Best. Day. EVER!

2011-11-16T08:37:00.001-08:00

Every morning is a struggle... to will myself out of my cozy bed.

I HATE IT!!! SO MUCH!!! Honestly, sometimes, eternal sleep seems like a better deal than getting out of bed in the morning. ESPECIALLY, since it's cold outside and I have my heated mattress pad to snuggle with.

You read correct, my friends. Heated Mattress Pad. Be jealous... but only for a second until you remember I have to leave it every morning... to go to work, BLECHK!

The very act of pulling back the covers is the worst torture I can think of, honestly.

This morning was no exception. In fact, my alarm caught me on the deep end of a sleep cycle, so I was suuuuper tired and having freakishly vivid dreams between snoozes (about some special green libations that were evaporating out of the jar inexplicably... at my work desk... at Disneyland... with my 5th grade class... I was quite distraught). I ended up turning off my alarm and falling back into a dream, which happens often. I usually wake up 10 minutes later and am on my way. Today, I said "fuck it" and rolled over for a few more minutes while I made my peace with being 20 minutes late today.

I'm 5 minutes early every, single, day, that should add up to 20 minutes late once in a while, right?

BUT WAIT! There's more!

I get to the train station, and there's a train there at the time there should be... but it's MY train... the one I would have been standing on the platform waiting for had I been on time today!

EPIC WIN!!!!

It doesn't get much better than that, folks.

Until next time...

P.S. The mattress pad linked to is the one we have, but there are tons out there. We had a gift card to Macy's and went to their after Christmas sale and snagged it for $60 out of pocket... I also recommend hanging onto those Bed Bath & Beyond certificates that come in the mail (they never actually expire, you know) and go to one of their sales... or maybe overstock.com or something... basically, no reason to pay full price for it, even though it's worth every penny and more. You turn that bad boy on before you start the "ready for bed" routine and hop into the coziest comfiest awesomeness EVER! Oh, and dual controls, so no heat for the hot enough Hubby. xox

Forever Unclean

2011-11-15T09:35:00.001-08:00

The most disgusting thing THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED, happened last night, to me. I mean it, in the world's history of disgusting, this is the top. and guess who is to thank... go ahead, you get one guess, I'll wait...

THE HUBBY!

This is worse than when he barfed all over the bed that one time in Vegas (poor cleaning lady)...
worse than that one time when he was sick and he sharted...
worse than his old crusty boogers on the headboard (seriously though, what are you supposed to do with late night boogers? ain't no way getting your cozy ass out the bed is an option...).
Basically, 6 years together has done a lot for my level of gross tolerance... and he his... but this *gagswallow* this is, it's just...

le scene:

pillow talk has ceased, kisses given, nighttime good wishes administered, my back turned, cozy position optimized, drifting off...

somewhere, my consciousness registers a loud noise, two beats later... inexplicable rain fall onto my head...

It didn't come together at first, but as I slowly came back from dreamland, I noticed Hubby was lying on his back and then I remembered the noise being sneeze-like...

"OH MY GAWD YOU SHOT YOUR SNEEZE IN THE SKY AND IT RAINED ON MY HEAD!!!!"

Folks, a side note, he's always been the worst at covering his sneezes. He puts his hands to his nose and makes an attempt, but everything just comes out the bottom. This time was no exception.

SNOT RAINED ON MY HEAD! *shudderdryheave*

He didn't even apologize; he couldn't stop laughing at my mortification.

Until next time...

The Clammy Kid

2011-11-10T09:27:00.000-08:00

Remember when I confessed to being the clammy kid?

Well... I was, because I have hyperhidrosis. YAAAY! You get to learn more about me like we're a family *group hug*.

I'm a believer in the premise that people have these random afflictions, but they don't know that it's a medical condition that can be treated because they go through life wandering around making due with what they've got... So when I read statistics that 1% of the world has this, I scoff and think of all the other clammy kids I have come into contact with in my life alone. I can't imagine how many there really are.

Hyperhidrosis means I sweat, profusely... like dripping off my skin and making a puddle on the floor, literally.

Like this:

All those beads of sweat accumulate and create drops, then puddles...

There were times when they were just clammy, not dripping, and some very rare times when they were actually dry, but 85% of the time, they looked like that.

Luckily(?) for me, it only ever affected my hands and feet. There are people out there who sweat like that through their entire torso, could you imagine? That's why I consider myself lucky. I also consider myself lucky that my family was able to afford and have success with the corrective surgery they offer. It's an endoscopic thoracic sympathetomy that left a couple pencil eraser sized holes in my armpits. They cut the nerve in my spinal column that carries the message from my brain to my hands telling them to sweat. When I was a kid, the idea was the same, but they had to go in through your chest, break 3 ribs, collapse your lungs, and dig behind and through muscle to cut the nerve. Now it's as easy as a colonoscopy... hopefully with a different scope, vom.

My hands are now completely sweat free. They get a little moist when I workout really hard, but that's completely socially acceptable. I still have a puddle in my shoes that was severely lessened and that I keep under control (most of the time) with my iontophoresis treatment. It feels like when you lick a 9-volt battery, but the little zap is prolonged for 15 to 30 minutes and all over my feet. After a while, it becomes second nature and I crave the feeling like I crave the feeling of fresh washed hair or minty fresh teeth. If I stay on top of it, I live life sweat free.

I had a HARD time in school, growing up. I was a completely different person before my surgery (when I was 17 and a senior in high school). I was shy and self conscious about it. I wouldn't give high fives often; holding hands with boys was awful/non-existent; turning in assignments that were damp and smudged with my hand covered in paper lines and pencil was mortifying; I could NEVER wear flip flops to school like everyone else; I had to wear nylons to dances like an old lady; everything that 's awful and awkward about being a teenager was magnified by a bagillion. I even encountered a teacher who refused to accept an assignment that we had completed in class, because it was "messy" and she demanded that I re-do it. I took it home and wore gloves to copy it onto another sheet of paper as I cried.

And then, on a Friday morning in October 2004, a couple snips changed my life forever. I still get misty thinking about it. I still have nightmares that my hands sweat, when I'm really stressed. I still think of the what ifs... what if I didn't have it at all; what if they had the technology to cure it completely; what if they could have corrected it when I was a small child; what if I could wear those strappy sandles with leather soles in August... and on and on. My Christmas list, every year from when I was 6 years old, included some variation of "please make my sweatiness go away". When I believed in God and Jesus and Angels, I would pray for them to fix this, to find a cure, to make it stop.

People don't understand this; they are disgusted by it; they think hurtful things and wipe their hand on their pants. My own family, when confronted with a "hold someone's hand" moment, would only allow me to hold onto their pinky finger. They just don't know what to do... but now you do. Hold their sweaty hand lovingly like nothing's wrong. Give them a vigorous high-five after an awesome slam dunk and don't vomit when some of the sweat splashes in your face. Wait until they're not looking to wipe your hand on your pants. Treat them like a human being.

After my surgery, my parents went through an insurance fraud investigation... because awful people made a deal with the doctor I went to to have their child "undergo the procedure" and split the profit... because the procedure is so simple he could "schedule" back to back "patients" and send the bill to the insurance company. My mother was forced to answer insulting questions and provide documentation on my history of hyperhidrosis. Our family doctor had to submit an affidavit. I knew nothing of this at the time, she refused to allow them to speak to me about it. When she finally did tell me, I was stung and upset, but if she had let them talk to me at the time, I probably would have been damaged by the experience.

I live my daily life not thinking about it. When I do my treatments, I enjoy them as my alone time to read or practice my French audio lessons. I rarely reflect on the days before and immediately after my surgery, but like now, as I write this, it still hangs over my heart.

Until next time...

AAAAAAlaBOAAAArd!

2011-11-09T09:42:00.000-08:00

My facebook status yesterday:
"Worst. Tuesday. EVER! Buhjaysus! I've had my fair share of awful Tuesdays, but this one is going for infamy."

Why are bad days always on Tuesday? Not all Tuesdays are bad, but bad days are always Tuesday... and when they are, it's a shit storm.

My train was canceled Monday due to "mechanical failure" and there was "a 60 minute delay" on the schedule. So, I hopped on the bus. As I'm sitting in the bus, on the freeway, in traffic, a train goes by... FFFFFUUUUUUUUUUuuuuu! Yeah, I thought cancelled was bad, no; it gets worse.

Yesterday, a Tuesday, I've resolved to stick with the train no matter what! Because I'll just end up in the bus, on the freeway, stuck in traffic, again...

It was a bad sign when the train (Train 309 to Los Angeles) was sitting at the station, early, with the doors open. A few of us were jogging from the parking lot because we thought the train was going to leave without us *arrogant chortle* *wipes fake tear of amusement**sigh*, how naive we were.

They close the doors before we get there, and we immediately panic. A strapping young lad runs ahead of the pack to flag down the conductor. A few moments go by, the train isn't moving, the doors are still shut, the gentleman has received confirmation from the conductor that we aren't to be stranded. We wait... and wait...

Finally, the doors open and we climb aboard, grateful.

We're sitting, waiting, not going anywhere. The announcement happens, "we're having some mechanical issues, folks. We're trouble shooting to see what the issue is and should be on our way momentarily." Mmmmhm.

Waiting...

"We're still trouble shooting the problem, folks. We'll keep you posted and let you know if there are any changes."

Waiting...

"The train behind us (Train 311 to Los Angeles) has caught up now, so we're going to see about hooking up to them so they can push us to Union Station."

Waiting...

"Change of plans, folks. We're going to leave this train and take the train going the other way back to Union Station." At this point, we're all befuddled, because for that to happen, all of the people thinking they're headed to San Bernardino either go back to Los Angeles, or they're stranded until the next train in 40 minutes...

We all schlep ourselves down the platform, down the ramp/stairs, under the track, up the ramp/stairs, up the platform to the other train where we are met by the conductor of that train telling us to "go back, this train is going to San Bernardino".

The mob of us turns on our heel back (down the platform, down the ramp/stairs, under the track, up the ramp/stairs, up the platform to the first train) to the first conductor with this news. He gets on the phone again and tells us to wait. We are then instructed go get back on the first train, but now the doors are closed. So we gather in front of the doors and wait.

...and wait ...and wait.

The conductor confirms that we are to board the train on the other side. We schlep again (down the platform, down the ramp/stairs, under the track, up the ramp/stairs, up the platform to the other train).

The second conductor is still telling us that his train is NOT going to Union Station. Somewhere in the middle is someone who pipes up with "This train isn't going to Union Station, but the train behind the train that's broken is going to switch tracks and pick us up on this side."

That train finally leaves to San Bernardino, so we line up and wait for train 311 to pick us up on the other side. ...and wait...and wait some MORE!

By this time, there are passengers from train 309, train 311, and all the people whose trains would have come and gone in this hour of clusterfuckofshitasticawfulness.

Roughly 5 trains worth of people, basically... to cram themselves into four cars of one train... I'll wait while you do the math.

As I stood there, in front of the train doors, waiting to be shoved and smooshed into it as soon as the doors opened, a moment of clarity overcame me. "I'll just go home and call in deserted." Euphoria and excitement filled me, then the doors opened and I was caught in the sea of people, once again the epitome of defeat.

During all of this back and forth, confusion and delay, my left knee is going to fall off. I had exacerbated an old injury over the weekend and was already having trouble with stairs/inclines... so the trek back and forth between tracks was not good for recovery. My left knee is quite a bit larger than my right by the time I FINALLY arrive at Union Station. The shuttles for our building have already stopped and I am forced to trek and climb more terrain to get to my desk.

The rest of the day landslides from there into a hot mess of silent weeping, catch-up, pain, and frustration.

It's that accursed time change and all of its nonsensical inconvenience!! *shakes fist*

Here's to Wednesday! *champagneclinkies*

Until next time...

OMnomnomnomnom

2011-11-04T09:21:00.000-07:00

YOU GUYS! This is soooo not a foodie blog, but I seriously just invented the most delicious thing EVER! Kay, it may already exist somewhere, but I swear I figured it all out by myself in my own head and didn't Google a single thing! PINKY SWEAR!

It starts with Hubby asking me to make cheese enchiladas for a potluck he has at work. I HATE making enchiladas... cuz the tortillas are always too fresh and they fall apart and make a huge mess and he never wants meat in them so I'm left feeling a sense of loss after all my hard work and it's just a glorified quesadilla with sauce on it and I need protein! (google chrome spell check doesn't acknowledge the word quesadilla, telling)

SO!

ENCHILADA PANCAKES!!!

They were soooooooo good! Gooey and cheesy on the inside, crispy and tortilla-y on the outside AMAZEBALZZZ!!! AND so super easy! I'm already thinking of ways to take it to the next level:

enchilada flat bread sandwich (so I can add the protein!)
enchilada pupusas
enchilada pigs in a blanket
enchilada waffles with beans/rice/guac/sour cream
IT NEVER ENDS!

Hubby was reluctant in the store when he saw what I was getting. He didn't "understand" what I was trying to do, even after I explained it. Then when I was mixing it, he proclaimed his disgust further. He fought me the whole way, basically. THEN! THEN! When they were ooey-gooey in his mouth-hole, he swallowed the deliciousness with his pride. Even though he never said it out-loud, the look on his face and his meek request for another was all the justification I needed. I AM THE AWESOMEST WIFEY EVER!

Can you tell I'm excited? Cuz I AM!

Until next time...

Update: Sorry, not everyone is visual, like Hubby:

Any/Favorite Enchilada Sauce
Quaker Tortilla Mix (in the flour isle)
Mix until the approximate consistency of pancake batter
Add TONS of cheese ("mexican mix" or your favorite) and mix more
(you may need to add more sauce if it gets thicker, depending on the cheese you use)
Heat up the grittle/pan
Add a layer of oil/spray
Cook 'em up like pancakes
I used a splatter guard as a "cooling rack" because they were being made in batches for a potluck. You can just serve them from the pan like pancakes and add more sauce for "syrup" if you want :) (about 1 cup mix properly moistened by sauce is 6 hand sized pancakes) Enjoy!

Heads Up, 7 Up

2011-11-03T10:10:00.000-07:00

Remember that game? On a rainy day in elementary school, the teacher would whip out the Heads Up, 7 Up and 4 Corners... and everyone would find their own way to cheat. Don't even pretend like you didn't try and cheat so you could be up there and/or prolong your reign as thumb toucher. Since we've all done it, then we all know, the number one cheat is to try and catch a peek at their shoes. Then there's hoping the clammy kid picks you so you know it's them (poor clammy kid... me), etc.

I have determined that the work bathroom is a drawn out game of heads up, 7 up. Everyone's trying to peak at shoes to see who's having gastro-intestinal distress in the next stall.

Everyone poops, grow up. You saw me eating that microwave burrito from Famima; you know it's me! lol j/k, j/k

Then there's the race to get out of there before the other person, so you don't see each other and have that awkward moment of "I heard you fart; you heard me use way too much toilet paper; we're even?"

I, personally, make the mad dash to get out of there so I don't have to put on the show of washing my hands.

Pah-lease, don't act disgusted. If I washed my hands every single time I went tinkle, I would have Crypt Keeper claws by now. I'm a well hydrated lady. Don't even pretend you don't skip the sink sometimes either. You're not better than me! I have immunity to germs!

Seriously, in the words of the late (and greatly missed) George Carlin*, "I only wash my hands when I shit on them... which is 2-3 times a week, TOPS!"

It's a waste of time, a waste of water, a waste of paper/energy, a waste of immunity building germs... Just stop it! ...and stop judging those who aren't irrationally afraid of bathroom germs.

I don't mind public restrooms. Even the ones on the train. There, I said it! I'm finally out of the closet, or in the bathroom, as it were. When I gotta go; I'm going, period. I'll hold my breath, hold my pants up off the floor, hold the door closed, but I'll be damed if I hold it until conditions are "sanitary". There's no such thing, folks. Even your precious toilet at home is riddled with germs. "But Laura, they're my germs." Bullshit, germs are germs! Granted, I'm not going to sit on a toilet seat that's covered in used needles and razor blades... I'll lift the seat and hover over the bowl, because I'm still going, dammit!

You know what, fine, judge me if you must, but just know this: my immune system and my bowels are healthier than yours, nannynannybooboo!

Until next time...

*Skip to 13:26 (I couldn't find a copy I could cut for you guys.)

Halloween Roundup

2011-11-01T14:49:00.000-07:00

First, as a follow up for yesterday's post:

She's super funny.

Hubby didn't want to be Michael Bolton for me, but I went as Turtleneck and Chain anyway.

2nd Loser at work, YEAH!

I had 2 co-workers dress up with me, but one was sick... so lame. No standing picture with my sweet white skinny jeans either, super sad. Maybe it was for the best... *ahem*. Yes, I owned and wore those bad-ass Oakley sunglasses before the conception of this costume.

I even spilled light beer on myself at the party to make it more authentic.

The DJ they had at the party was a "visual" DJ, so if there isn't a video for it, he doesn't have it. Therefore, I didn't get to jam to Turtleneck & Chain, but he did play Jack Sparrow and Dick In A Box for me.

Hubby didn't want to wear his Freddy mask from last year, cuz...

So, at the last second, he gets a wild hair up his ass and wants me to put liquid latex and paint on his face instead. I have never done any sort of "scary" makeup on anyone, but I thought it came out pretty decent.

We got tips from this video and this video. Next year, we'll get more shades of paint to get that lighter fleshy color going... and leave more time to do it! Also, do it outside. Liquid latex tends to burn the nostril hairs.

If you're interested in working with some liquid latex next year, it was super easy to apply with a makeup sponge and texturize with the toilet paper. He said it didn't itch or hurt at all; it was like wearing a rubber glove on his face.

Tori thought it was realistic enough...

Poor baby.

At least she's got a Cheeto to console her.

I couldn't get a picture of her a.) not ~~petrified~~ looking at Freddy or b.) not running away from the camera... so this is all you get of the little fairy. You can't see it, but she has PIGTAILS! OMG YOU GUYS!

She was such a trooper about her wand too. She didn't beat anyone with it and she held onto it all night. She danced to the music and had a cookie and some Cheetos, then it was time for Nana to take her home.

Her mom stuck around for the festivities, and to flaunt her "matching" costume.

Quite the before and after, no?

When you look up "classy" in the dictionary... never mind.

The Dyball home was decked out from top to bottom like always. They had the strobe light in the bathroom again this year, so SPARKLY PEE!!!! YAAAAAAY!!!!!!!

I edited it, but it takes a while for the edited version to "take effect",

so if you see a penis... you're welcome.

And for some reason, this year they had dolls hanging from everywhere!

Here's Surly Gurly's dia de los muertos art on my face from the Pancakes and Booze event:

I need that stamp!

How fun would it be to stamp that on random things?

I die! ...heh, get it? dia de los... *sigh*

Until next time...

The Speear-its

2011-10-31T09:20:00.000-07:00

We begin with "The Shop". The Grandpa's first place of business... you know, the HAUNTED one?

It starts with the bathroom light, which was located outside the bathroom. Many hi-jinx were had by the living, of course, but there were many accounts of sudden darkness when one was utterly alone... muahahahahaha!

One night in particular, there was a poker game going on in the back of the shop. A potty break was in progress when one of the men at the table noticed the light switch was moving... on its own, off-on-off-on-off. He announced it to the group and it stopped as they turned to look. The gentleman in the room emerged thinking his friends were playing a joke on him. He attempted to gain a confession, but there wasn't one to be had.

Then there's the dead space in the floor.

Dad, little kid; floor, tile; marble, bouncy... except in the spot. He's the one who found it, with his marble. He would wander through the entire shop, bouncing his marble all the way... until one day, it got stuck. The marble was affixed to the floor as though it were a magnet clinging to a metal surface... or being grasped by the hand of a spirit. The spot was level with the floor; there were no visible differences... to the human eye. No matter how many times he tried it, the marble would get stuck in the same spot. They tried prying up the tile and bouncing the marble on the cement underneath... stuck.

Onto the house.

Grandma & Grandpa's house was built in the late 1800s and has creeky wood floors, large bay windows, and ghosts.

According to Grandpa, there are 2 "speear-its", the little girl who died in the cupboard, and the old man who died in the guest room (the room we slept in when we were over, natch).

The little girl fell asleep waiting to be found during hide-and-seek, suffocated in the cramped space, and died. Grandpa knows this because she told him. She likes to watch him while he sleeps and often plays with toys next to the bed. Grandma admits to seeing her once, but always thought Grandpa was "full of shit" regardless.

The old man who died in the front/guest room likes to be outside in the garden. We never heard about him much, probably because we had to sleep in there... all I know is, Grandpa (BAMF) is afraid of him.

Then there's the inexplicable "mound" in the grass of the backyard at Hacienda De La O. Dad and Emily have occasional contact with Ed; the man hacked into pieces and buried there... by his wife of course. There was an attempt made with an Ouija board to confirm this, but those things are so unreliable. Lots of things were blamed on Ed out of convenience, but there were a couple times... it just... it was Ed.

Happy Halloween!
Until next time...

Hipster Clean

2011-10-28T11:07:00.000-07:00

Pshsh, my great grandmother was doing this before it was cool. This is the kind of crap they need to teach us in school. Useful stuff for life, not the square root of pi. GOSH!

Until next time...

P.S. There's a coming soon that I don't want to tell you about and ruin the surprise. No, it's not a book/TV/movie deal that I can't tell you about. Just sit tight and enjoy the lame little posts and/or silence while mommy works on this very important thing... that isn't a baby either, jeeeez.

Frat House Frige

2011-10-26T16:41:00.000-07:00

The office refrigerator was stocked top to bottom with beer today... good beer... for a party tonight... for attorneys, only ... RUDE!

That is all. Until next time...

"I'm not dead yet."

2011-10-25T12:07:00.000-07:00

HI!

All better now. See, I told you not to put me on the cart.

If you had Wednesday afternoon, around 3:30; you win the pool, congrats.

While I was out sick (for 2 days) there was complete supply chaos. I hate to complain about work on here, but I work with nincompoops (who doesn't) and some things can't sneak under the radar; (See attached exhibits A & B.

Everything I put out on display for consumption has stock in the cabinet directly above or below it AND everything is fully stocked in my desk area... so if it's empty on the counter, there's more in the cupboard; if it's empty in the cupboard, there's more at my desk. There are notes in several, very easily seen places, in the kitchen and copy room... AND I can order shit from home, that can be delivered next day, so just email me... none of that happens in real life though. I came back yesterday to mostly empty k-cup drawers, no coffee cups on the counter, paper towel holder empty, rotting fruit in the fridge, completely zero manila folders for a HUGE project that has to be done right now!, people out of their minds trying to dig out change for Starbucks with wet hands and smooshy fruit on their lunch bags; oh, and all of these things are completely stocked in the cupboards and at my desk (and really no one thought to toss the orange that has a science project on it?). *SMHfacepalmsigh*

I'm not their mother; I don't get paid extra to do this; I make it waaaaaay too easy; I don't even use half the stuff I order; JUST FIGURE IT THE FUCK OUT ALREADY!!!

I gave up on restocking the soft drinks the week after we moved (who the fuck says soft drinks anymore?). If that was all I had to do with my life; absolutely! That shit would be pristine and amazeballz, but this is just a passion of mine that I took over because the scatterbrain originally assigned couldn't even keep her desk in any sort of logical order, let alone an entire office worth of snacks and supplies ANDIWASGOINGTOLOSEMYMIND! watching her try. Kinda like Nick Burns, but with the supplies instead of the computers. (Don't get me started on the computers, just, don't.)

Basically I have to lug boxes, crouch down, get on hands and knees, lift and move, etc. in "business casual" and heels. So eff that. If I could bust my ass around here in yoga pants and sneakers, you best believe no one would have to lift a finger for their precious diet poison... oh wait, they don't anyway; never mind.

PeeEss on that mania folder project from Hades; our average manila folder use is 2 per month, and that's mostly legal size. These morons decide it would be a good idea to do a depo with elebenty million exhibits, and to organize those exhibits with manila folders, letter sized. FINE, GREAT! I'm all for organizing... but you knew this depo was coming up, and you had the exhibits pulled a week ago... so you wait for the day I'm out sick to start printing off the gagillion copies you need... for tomorrow? SMART! Screw even the printing fiasco, you could have figured you were going to need more manila folders than the ones you sorted the originals into. Maybe take a peek in the supply area and see there's only one box with dust and cobwebs all over it and pop yourself over to my desk with a request for more? Cross your mind for a second? No? Right. Captain, there are no traceable amounts of intelligent life on this planet; let's get out of this dump.

Thanks for letting me vent. Until next time...

Bathroom Emergen-Z

2011-10-21T12:21:00.000-07:00

Guess what else gives you the runs...

Antibiotics.

Specifically the magical antibiotics that come in a "Z-Pack". Azithromycin is a magical drug that you only have to take for 5 days, but sweet jesus, those 5 days better be spent near a bathroom.

So, don't get sick in the first place, because everything involved makes you pee out of your asshole.

Until next time...

P.S. If your doctor has never offered you a Z-Pack, you should question their validity as a member of the medical community.

Bathroom Emergen-C

2011-10-19T14:02:00.000-07:00

Y'all know too much Vitamin C gives you the runs, right? So when you pound the glasses of Emergen-C with an Orange chaser, you're gonna shit like a dehydrated baby for a while...

I bring this up because 95% of the people in my office are some level of sick and the remaining 5% are downing Emergen-C and Airborne like they're mini cupcakes.

I'm counting myself in the 95%. My throat was not happy when I woke up this morning. I gargled with warm salt water for a good while; I'm keeping hydrated; I'm blowing and spitting any trace of mucus as quickly as possible; we'll see how it goes.

Until next time...

Lotion Bandit Comes Clean, etc.

2011-10-18T16:33:00.000-07:00

The missing bottle of lotion was mysteriously on my desk this morning... WIN for passive aggressive office notes! YEAH!

Dear Packing Tape,
SHUT THE EFF UP! MAN! I can carry the entire world in my pocket on a little devise the size of... a cell phone, but packing tape is still murderously loud? Not cool. Oh, and there's still no cure for cancer... that too. Let's hold off on the next gazillion models of smart phone and focus on a few other things for a second, kay?
xox,
Laura

cc: Apple, Motorola, HTC, and Samsung
bcc: Microsoft & Nokia (you're trying, we get it)

AND ANOTHER THING, I've stopped using the second "c" on letters (but I used it above for ease of reference and to segue into this nice rant) because it's not carbon anymore folks; it's just a copy, plain ol' copy; let's move on, kay? It's 2011 now; act like it!

Have you felt your boobies yet? Men can get booby cancer too, so don't think you're exempt from this portion of the post guys.

Incubus concert was THE BEST! I had a hard time picking out the right merch because it was my first time and it had to count! I think I made the right choice, and annoyed the hell out of the guy working the stand... and/or Hubby. Maybe a photo later this week, after it's been washed. YtG wasn't there, SUPER SAD FACE!!! Apparently, they went home after the San Francisco show cuz they couldn't possibly bear doing three more shows. Rude. Their booking agent guy is really super fast at responding to despondent fans though. That was refreshing.

Shout out to candy corn. Man, that shit is delicious! Starbucks, why the fuck don't you have candy corn syrup for my latte yet? M.A.C., thanks for the lipsticks that smell like candy corn (probably the orange "pigment", but still). I might try a candy corn vodka; just for kicks. P.S. I'm not gonna waste the time to go copy/paste the tilde into this post for latte; cuz I'm not a pretentious asshole all the time.

so tired

Hubby is ~~a big whiny baby~~ sick-ish. He has sniffles and a scratchy throat (on the day his Batman game comes out, mhmm, I'm onto your little tricks there), which manifests itself into "I'm dying of the flu CUZ YOU DIDN'T REMIND ME TO GET MY FLU SHOT!" Oh, it's my fault is it? riiiiiiight. Also, when you suck all the gross back into your head, don't be surprised when you don't get better, just sayin'... so you can't say I didn't remind you. Why are men such idiotic babies when they're sick? Every time, we go through the same things. Every. Damn. TIME! I love you honey, but maybe you should take some notes or something? In sickness and in health didn't include "nursing every sniffle and chill" amiright?

Who's going to start the betting for when I get sick? I'm taking Thursday afternoon, 2:30ish.

Dear Building Cleaning People,
Stop knocking around my Carl nesting doll pieces.
xox,
Laura

What is this bullshit?

Don't they know I can't mentally handle that type of awfulness?

Mine is special because his feet are painted backwards.

*contented sigh* much better.

Until next time...

Drum-Roll Please...

2011-10-17T10:50:00.000-07:00

357

It tastes like Skittles, and then you're drunk, WINNING! Adding it to Sprite is really really really super dangerous... cuz you're drinking sprite that tastes like Skittles, then you fall out of your chair and everyone sees your lady bits... probably; I'm just speculating here. Straining it with the cheesecloth takes a while, and many rinses, but is ABSOLUTELY necessary! When you see what's left in the cheesecloth... vom. I'm probably never going to eat unpasteurized Skittles again.

Go make some, or just wait for your Secular Consumerist Holiday™ gift from yours truly.

Until next time...

No more sleeps!

2011-10-14T15:35:00.000-07:00

The contest ends tonight at 11:59 p.m., so make sure you submit your guess! Buzzed me forgot that tomorrow night is the INCUBUS CONCERT!!! HOLYSHITYOUGUYS!!! So no drunken review post... although, the one guess I have on the post is from the person going to the concert with me, so if she's the winner, we'll do a collaboration on the drunken rainbow review/tailgate at the concert...

Until next time...

REALLY?

2011-10-14T12:06:00.000-07:00

Passive aggressive office notes at their finest. Until next time...

So Spooky

2011-10-13T10:19:00.000-07:00

As I am typing the paragraph explaining the whistle...

He e-whistled for me. It goes a LOT farther, but the problem with his e-whistle; I can put it on silent. (Yes, I recorded his whistle to set as the ringtone when he calls, duh.)

A lot of that kind of spooky skin prickly shit happens... to everyone... I just notice it more than some.

FOR EXAMPLE:

Over the summer, I read Philip Pullman's "Dark Materials" The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife, and The Amber Spyglass. If you know nothing of these books, all you need to know is that there are portals into different worlds, and lots of people have their souls, or "daemons", outside of their bodies in different animals that can't get too far from their people and die if they die and vice versa. SPOILER ALERT!

During a rather moving and pivotal portion of The Amber Spyglass, wherein a main character is struggling against an unknown man in the night (the man is trying to protect him, but he thinks he's being attacked type deal) when they finally come to an impasse and the lantern light illuminates his face just right, he discovers it's his long lost father, who disappeared during a scientific excursion before he was born, that he has been looking for since the beginning of the last book... JUST in time to watch the arrow go through his chest, shot by the witch whose love he spurned that one time... at which point the mans daemon, a beautiful osprey (a bird that I had never heard of, that there was much discussion of earlier because the man came from a world that didn't have external souls and his was so beautiful, blahblah) is being all touching as he's fading away as the man dies... blah blah etc... (Don't fuck with a witch who gave you her love's all I'm sayin'.)

I'm all misty eyed and it's time to get off the train, so I turn off my kindle and look up in preparation to disembark... what do I see, right in my face (totally in my personal space!)?

WHAT ARE THE ODDS! A bag by a European company I have never heard of or even seen before, or since, RIGHT IN MY FACE as I finish reading about the bird of their logo I have never heard of either... CHILLS!

Also,

Until next time...

De La O is Portuguese for BAMF

2011-10-12T16:27:00.000-07:00

bad-ass mutha who don't take no crap off of nobody!

The Grandpa I know and love, was not Grandma's first choice. Grandma's first choice was an abusive drunk who hated life... and people. The part of the story where Grandpa Henry gets involved is a little hazy in my memory, but the end result is this:

Grandpa wasn't down with drunkasshole beating on Grandma and 3-year-old Dad, so he showed up one day on their doorstep, gave drunkasshole someone his own size to play with, beat the shit out of him, and took over his position. No one ever heard from drunkasshole again and they lived happily ever after.

This, and Grandpa's viewpoint on drunkassholes in general, had a great influence on Dad~~'s stories~~.

Dad was and is an "ask questions later" kind of guy. When someone he loves is in trouble, he puts an end to the situation as quickly as possible. Kinda like Chuck Norris, but with less round-house kicks on account of his bad knee.

We even have a code word; when uttered within dad's hearing range, it is equivalent to pressing the big red button on the President's desk in movies. Obviously, the code word is only for DIRE emergencies, and I have never had to use it, but it was extremely comforting to have growing up. The code word was also used for kidnap prevention. We weren't allowed to go with anyone who didn't tell us the code word first.

Along with the code word, Dad has a whistle. This isn't your run of the mill, 2-finger-lip-pull-hillbilly whistle. This whistle can be heard for MILES! One time, before cell phones, when we were up north visiting family, it was pouring rain outside, sister and I were inside the house of a neighborhood kid no less than 300 yards away, playing loudly in the basement game room... we heard him; we always heard him. If we didn't hear him, we were dead and he would invoke the "ask questions later" rule... so we always came running to Dad's whistle; to save the lives of innocent people!

Did you hear it? Until next time...

SKITTLES!

2011-10-11T09:05:00.000-07:00

All filled and infusing beautifully...

Only 4 more sleeps until there's a winner... and a drunken Laura... with a rainbow colored tongue.

Until next time...

P.S. If no one enters the giveaway contest... MORE FOR ME!

October 10, 2009

2011-10-10T12:06:00.000-07:00

That's the day I became Mrs. Laura Leane Largent.

...at The Paris Hotel, Las Vegas, NV (we got married in Paris ;)

Party Bus transportation to Rainbow Gardens where four hours worth of open bar and a DJ, who was commanded to demand FUN! and equipped with an over organized playlist (including Flight of the Conchords, Aerosmith, DJ Casper, and many more), awaited our guests.

Shenaniganzzz

MOAR FUN!

Twistin'

Runnin'/Crashin'

HEY!

Kiss until we stop cheering...

That's my girl!

Mission Impossible: Cake!

Keepin it classy...

Groovin'

Dancin'

Wormin'

King-Fu Fightin'

Cha-Cha Slidin'

Lovin' in the Elevator

Macarenain'

Time Warpin'

Fun acquired.

Credits:

Chocolate Tux chosen by Hubby from Men's Warehouse;

Dresses designed by me, hand made by Kim;
Jewelry also designed/made by Kim;

Bouquets/Boutineers fake and made by me;
Shoes Vincente (Chocolate) by Caparros;

Vows (1 2 3) Written/Compiled by me.
Candle part ad libbed cuz I forgot there was gonna be fire.

Hair & Makeup by Lynette;

First & Parents Dances choreographed by Rosta

to Heitor Pereira's beautiful song for MI:2

and Fly Me to the Moon by Frankie;

Rings designed/photographed by me,
inspired by Mark, and made by Dave.

Skinny Laura made by Pilates and Dance lessons;

Everything else was provided by The Paris/Rainbow Gardens

... and so worth it.

Happy anniversary baby;
I love you.

Until next time...

Taste the drunken rainbow!

2011-10-08T21:15:00.000-07:00

Epic fail... it takes 3 days for the skittles to disolve in the vodka; forgot about that part... AND I didn't get enough vodka *sad face* (cuz Brittany discriminates against purple Skittles)... AND I got 3 giant bags of skittles instead of 5 small ones... so gotta add MORE vodka... wait... that's a WIN! Muahahahaha!

BUT, I'm still buzzed at least, YAAAAY! Experiencing some Land Shark Attack, SWEET!

Some preliminary notes on the Skittles Vodka making process:

1.) do NOT start drinking before making Skittles Vodka, or this will happen:

FFFFFFFUUUUUUU!!!!

2.) get a LOT of vodka, like the costco/samsclub size bottle (party with the leftovers);

3.) do NOT put the vodka in before the Skittles, see item 1... and sticky splashes;

4.) do NOT tear the Skittles bag from the top, HOT MESS! Tear it from the side, like this:

Oh, and FUCK wood floors! damnbouncyfuckinskittles

So far so good though, just gotta get some more vodka tomorrow.

Now comes the fun part for you! While I wait for my vodka to transform into Skittles deliciousness, I'm going to do my first giveaway, YAAAY!

The giveaway? Skittles Vodka, duh.

How to win? LEAVE ME A GOTDAUM COMMENT! with the color Skittle you want and the amount of Skittles you think are in the jar dissolving. In the comment box, e-mails will NOT be accepted!

Yes, I counted. No, I'm not sane.

The person (over 21) closest wins! Not P.I.R. style, just closest. I am gonna mail your ass Skittles Vodka (which probably isn't legal... soooo, yeah; did I mention I'm buzzed? Sober legal secretary Laura is going to look at this tomorrow and shit her pants.) just for leaving me a comment with a color and a number in it (and be over 21); HOW EASY IS THAT!?? Hopefully the winner is someone I know/live near so I don't have to break any laws... we'll see. This should be super ~~incriminating~~ fun. (leave the logistics to me; I WILL get it there; I'm determined!)

P.S. If you DO know me, guess what you're getting for ~~Christmas~~ December's Secular Consumerist Holiday?!?!? YAAAY!!! (I TAPTAP TM that shit! ...and Jesus Rape. MINE!)

Giveaway winner to be announced next Saturday, when I'm CA-RUNK! off my Skittles Vodka (sans your color, of course... okay, I might try it... just a little taste... COME ON! I made it! Okay, I won't touch it; Scout's Honor *crosses fingers behind back*)

Until next time...

Sober legal secretary Laura Update: I did some research, and because I'm shipping it for personal use, I don't have to tell the delivery service anything other than "fragile" (it must be Italian). Good luck!

Bananas + Shotguns ≠ Friends

2011-10-05T13:42:00.000-07:00

Uncle Andy's School of Desert Shenaniganz, Lesson 42: Why you don't put a box of Bananas and a shotgun in the back of a vehicle that you're going to teach a 9-year-old how to off-road in... and other life lessons.

*sigh* Uncle Andy... where to begin?

My father is an adopted, only child, and was raised by a loving deaf woman and her hearing impaired husband. Andy is one of the brother-like childhood companions that stuck around long enough to earn the title Uncle Andy. We also have Uncle Mark and the Dyball Families.

Uncle Andy was in and out of prison/rehab/godknowswhat while we were growing up, so our interaction with him was extremely limited. I have many fond memories of the few times he was there. First and foremost, that he gave my dad a lot of heartache, but made him really happy when he was there. He gave us our first and only dog, Coco. He taught us lots of desert/camping/4x4 lessons (mostly what NOT to do). He was a great example to us of why drugs are bad. He was a lot of fun and always there for a friend (if he could be). We loved Uncle Andy.

Lesson 42 includes an entire box of bananas (no one knows why he had an entire box of bananas) a newly purchased (and unloaded) shotgun, a 1992 Isuzu, 3 children of various ages, and a drunk Uncle Andy. Throw the ingredients together and shake vigorously with some sand dunes and river washes for 2 to 3 hours. Enjoy your 3 pieces of broken shotgun with banana oozing out of them, new banana flavored upholstery, and no bananas (for the giant loaf you were going to bake over the camp fire later?) to eat.

Lesson 13 was a three part lab on the burn time of tent fabric, the reflexes of a responsible adult with his back turned FOR LIKE 3 SECONDS!!, and the velocity of flying embers when catapulted from a camp fire by a GIANT log being thrown on it from a great distance by Uncle Andy. No one was harmed, only shaken. The tent became an ode to Swiss Cheese.

Until next time...

LinkyLinks and ThinkyThinks

2011-10-04T12:36:00.000-07:00

How did you like that last week? Lots to read; pretty sweet huh? Don't get used to it.

I feel like I wrote myself into a corner on the saga of the 4-Runner and/or 4x4 shenaniganz though, so we're gonna roll with it and see where it takes us. (pun intended? no idea)

Here's just a little break for some re-cap action... with lots of links to keep you entertained; you're welcome.

Pinterest is my warden. Everything is so effing pretty!

Brittany & Meredith Live is hi-LARIOUS! Especially enjoyable while pinning on pinterest... natch. I'm totally writing this post with Meredith's Fargo accent in my head, lolzzz.

BOOBIES MONTH! YAAAAY! Raise awareness! BOOBIES!!

I hate to harp on it, but Spotify... if you don't have one, I don't think we can be friends anymore... cuz you're an idiot for not listening to me, or, more importantly, Spotify.

Hubby won't play along and wear this hat to portray Michael Bolton in the Lonely Island video so I can go dressed in my Turtleneck and Chain (w/light beer and that's it, seriously) this year... IT SO WON'T BE RELEVANT NEXT YEAR, WE HAFTA!, please? Seriously though, whole costume for both of us... $18.73 and FREE SUPER SAVER SHIPPING!!! It's not like he doesn't like wearing pirate hats or other ridiculous accoutrements.

No one at work knows who Mr. Bill or Carl are, rendering my desk toys idiotic and/or hipster snarky. I can't help that I'm so damn cool. (Mr. Bill Bobblehead/Carl Nesting Doll the last doll is a turd with his gold chain... it smells like awesome.)

There's this little old lady who stands between the platform and the parking lot once in a while and sweetly says good morning to everyone. When you look up to reply with your best be-nice-to-an-old-lady good morning, BAM! Jesus Rape. Bitch be holding a huge book with KNOWING GOD bigger than her head across the front. RUDE! When I see her, I stoneyfacedignore her existence and walk by without a glance. Proving to her that I'm evil? or getting my message across that her Jesus Rape isn't appreciated? She probably says a prayer at my back as I walk past her, BLECK! GET IT OFF ME!!!!

P.S. the link to that book is through the Atheist Nexus' proceeds from amazon link... HA! SO THERE!

Our first family party in the apartment was a success. (.png files in the googlie machine are my BFFeFeFeFeF) Even though the Chargers didn't make the blackout cutoff (MUTHAFUCKING DUMBEST THING I HAVE EVER HEARD OF! I daresay that the belief that god planted dinosaur bones in the ground to test our faith makes more sense than the NFL blackout rule... or maybe they're on the same level... yeah, same level of idioticmindbogglingshitfuckingtardation, yeah.) we still got to enjoy the Chargers lightnin' strikin' the Dolphins thanks to RedZone! If you even kinda maybe like football a little teeny-tiny bit, get RedZone; it's worth every penny of the outrageous price your cable provider charges for it. It doesn't hurt that Scott Hanson is kinda dreamy... *ahem* Also, Verizon Wireless customers get free RedZone and all NFL mobile awesomeness on their 4G smart phones... so go take advantage.

At the party, we enjoyed hauhhhhmmmnnnnooommmmgggggrrrrgggglll and BALLS! Both are really easy to make; both are really delicious in your mouth, so go make them now! and thank me later.

Shout-Out to Joe Antonelli for making me his Trial Slave for most of 2007, cuz now I can help my Instructing Pilates Instructor pack up the projector and screen every Monday and Wednesday night, and look like a total bad-ass who knows what she's doing. REPRESENT! Though, I have to say, doing so in yoga pants is a whole heap easier than doing it in a skirt with corresponding hose and pumps... ya feel me?

While we're doing shout-outs, BIG shout-out to mason jars... you get 12 huge ass jars for $8.00 and you can put whatthefuckever you want in them... uuuuhh, definition of fuckin' smart? Yes. Probably going to use a few of them to make me some Skittles Vodka this weekend.

Maybe some DLL Saturday, blog addition/Skittles Vodka review is in order? Also, taking the creeper out of DLL Saturday by adding a Scan/Email element to it... MOAR DRUNKEN LOVE LETTERS PLEASE?!!??

Until next time...

ZZZzzzZzzZZzzz

2011-09-30T09:17:00.000-07:00

Dad is a, as he says, ~~fart smeller~~ smart feller *rimshot*, and I quite agree.

He started his family a little late by 1980s standards. He was 30 when I, his first, was born. Therefore, he spent plenty of time watching his friends get married and have families before him and noticed a phenomena... "baby is sleeping, so we have to drink and be merry very very quietly!"

Dad wasn't having any of that in his house! Nuh-Uh! Sweet Baby Laura is home from the hospital, Day 1... vacuum the shit out of her room while she's sleeping. Day 2, put Sweet Baby Laura in her swing next to the TV and crank the Aerosmith special on MTV. Day 3, have a very loud conversation with her hearing impaired Grandfather on the phone during nap number two. Day 4, field trip to a construction site... you get the idea.

I would call his experiment a giant success. I can sleep anytime/anywhere/anyhow. I can nap at 11:00 a.m. after a cup of coffee with the sun in my face. I can nap at 5:00 in the evening, on the couch, before dinner while spectators yell at the TV, eat dinner, go to bed at 9:00 and not wake up until my alarm at 5:30 the next morning. Hubby's alarm doesn't even make me flinch. Northridge? What earthquake? I could probably sleep through a volcanic eruption at a Slipknot concert going on in my closet with the door open.

I'm napping right now, typing on my computer at work... lol j/k!

Hubby is SOOOO super jealous of my awesome sleep skillzzz; he's too distracted by how awesome my sleep is to sleep. He's such a light sleeper it's sad. No matter how super silent I am when I get home from school, even if he's snoring, I blink too loudly and he wakes up.

So this post is a THANK YOU to my Daddy, for refusing to allow his children to be fussy sleepers. Love you!

Until next time...

My Precious, The 4-Runner

2011-09-29T10:18:00.000-07:00

I have to pop the face off of the radio, triggering the antenna to lower, in order to assist the antenna down enough to go through the car wash; they always ask if it goes further with a worried look. Taking the face completely off prevents someone turning the radio back on, thus raising the antenna and forcing them to call me back outside over the loud speaker. They probably think that I think they're going to steal my radio. The antenna has been replaced twice, the motor once.

I've slept in it, overnight. I wasn't camping.

The skid plate is held on by ONE of the eight original bolts, nothing more. No one knows how long it's been like that. We can't find bolts that fit it.

The driver's side parking light doesn't work until someone hits it.

I left the passenger floor mat at a do-it-yourself car wash several years ago.

The current sound system is better than my Bose headphones. That fact is one of my favorite things about it.

...what curb?

The gas gauge doesn't work properly until it gets down to half a tank... I know I get at least 200 miles to a tank, just in case.

The sunroof...

The paint on the roof is getting all blotchy and peely, but I refuse to have it re-painted because I love the original decal on the sides.

My dad lied to a wholesale company to buy ONE of the original rims that came with the vehicle, so it has a full sized and identical spare.

I have been rushed to the hospital in it twice, and in no other vehicle.

I've thrown up in it once.

When the engine finally blew and there was smoke everywhere and it clunked and wheezed out of life, I bawled like a baby. When they got it up on the tow truck, I wept. The woman, who's house I ended up in front of, gave me an ice cream Sunday from Weinerschnizel to cheer me up. It did, a little.

When we would get home from school on days it was raining really hard, Dad would open the sunroof slidey cover, put in the E.L.O. mix tape, and we'd all just lie back and enjoy the sounds.

For my 17th Birthday, Dad took me to a stereo place near our house and said I could get any stereo, speakers, and amp I wanted. I told the salesman "I want to feel it in my chest". Sound is very important to my dad.

The radiator went out in the Spring of 2009 on a Saturday afternoon. The first radiator shop that answered the phone (I was well into the T section of the phone book) had exactly ONE radiator that fit my vehicle (and thankfully budget) left and closed in one hour, fate?

I took a man's virginity in the back seat. Many sexcapades were later had as well, with the seats down to create a bed, tailgate down for a view, up in the canyon for privacy, stereo on for mood.

When we first got it, I would wash and wax it twice a month. This continued for approximately two years. Then I got my period and life was forever different.

The door lock on my rear passenger side door has to be pulled up manually to unlock.

I learned to Off-Road in it before I learned how to drive it.

My nieces love to have their Tia drive them around in her car.

It no longer passes smog (on its own) and needs a new exhaust system for 2013... Santa?

I named it Summer when I was 10, but that's a secret love name I gave it. To everyone else, it's just The 4-Runner.

It's saved my life three times.

When Charmed was on, I put "The Power of Three" symbol on the back window... I still like it. Tigger and Maggie in each of the rear passenger window wings. Maggie marks where I stop for the gas pump.

It was officially mine, pink slip and all, when I graduated high school, but it was understood to be mine from the moment we arrived at Longo Toyota in 1998. As soon as I got my license, it was unofficially mine. I have owned two other cars, in my name, and have only driven The 4-Runner... unless it was in the shop.

The air conditioning went out the summer of 2005, in August.

The 2009 Sport model in "Shadow Mica" makes me wet.

We took it out to the desert for the first time and didn't know it had a regular, acid battery (which is a really dumb thing to do, in case you didn't know; you gotta get a gel battery so you don't shake battery acid everywhere). We ended up getting stuck a few weeks later in front of Tony's on our way to Grandma & Grandpa's house. Grandpa pulled up in Minerva (his magical, ancient van), opened the hood, put his hand (palm flat) on the battery, told Dad to turn the key, and it started. Swear to god.

In order to preserve the integrity and cleanliness of the vehicle, Dad has lost a lot of knuckle skin. An example of that would be after the above mentioned battery incident

The 4-Wheel-Drive has come in handy in many urban settings.

Of all its major scratches, dents, and dings, I have only given it one.

A queen size mattress (no pillow top) fits like a glove in the back when moving.

When I drive, I am most concerned about avoiding accidents mostly because any damage to it would probably render it "totaled" and I would lose it forever. Then there's safety.

It needs new tires; plenty of tread, they're just cracked and worn; we're running on green slime until I save enough lunch money.

I always wanted either a Jeep or a 4-Runner and Dad agreed because he didn't want his daughters driving "death traps". Toyota because "no one makes 'em like Japan does."

Mom hates The 4-Runner... so does The Hubby. Though Hubby only hates it because he discriminates against any vehicle older than his underwear.

This one time, in Yearbook camp...

This other one time, when trying to find Carmel Valley Road, but only finding Carmel Mountain Road...

I have an anxiety attack whenever anyone else has to drive it. No one knows how to drive it like I know how to drive it. I know all the notches on that gas pedal like I know all the letters in my name.

The interior is immaculate, aside from the sunroof issues and subsequent hanging ceiling fabric.

I am so ridiculously proud of it and love it to pieces.

Until next time...

Sick M.F. Thoughts

2011-09-28T10:25:00.000-07:00

Let the hate mail commence!

I had one of those awful moments the other day. The moment when you see something so horrendous that your mind panics to shield you from it and twists what you're seeing into something funny. Some people laugh at funerals because of this unconscious effort to protect. Two Girls-One Cup made me laugh so hard I cried... while Hubby was in the corner dry heaving so hard he cried. How on EARTH did they get her to poop so damn perfectly?!!?! Anyway...

The horrendous thing I was witnessing, as I'm sure many of you saw/heard about, was the youtube video of the woman being stoned to death. I only saw parts of it, and am forever scarred.

In order to prevent further damage, my mind thought:

"I wonder if everyone gets bummed when someone hits them in the temple accidentally and kills them too quickly, like when the big kid breaks the pinata after only 2 or 3 little kids get to go..."

I was instantly disgusted with myself, and stopped thinking about it... so good work on the protection brain, but seriously, WTF?

Until next time...

The Sunroof Paradigm

2011-09-27T12:01:00.000-07:00

So many times, I've opened my blogger and started a story about my car, and so many times I've left that post in the drafts because there's not enough blank screen in the entire internet to hold everything there is to know about my precious baby, The 4-Runner:

I've mentioned here and there a few news type items, but never really delved into it because there is A LOT of back story. That being said, a "mini" (smallest I could manage) back story on the sunroof:

Standing on the lot of Longo Toyota, 1998. The choices for used Toyota 4-Runner, 4x4, that doesn't sag yet for lack of tow package, with low miles, and in the budget are a purple 1997 model with a HUGE burn mark on the rug in the back that they're NOT going to replace or a green 1995 model with a sunroof. If it were solely up to my dad, he would have taken the Purple one and had The Infamous Chuy install some crazy pimp leopard print carpet in the back. However! 1.) my mother was with us and 2.) this purchase was being made with the intention of this vehicle being mine upon graduation from high school... so I had say and I was NOT going to have a purple car; priorities.

Fast forward to the year after the warranty is up... natch... the sun roof cover slidey thing is irrevocably lodged beyond the tiny little dangling piece of metal that is SUPPOSED to keep it from doing that. Dad takes it to the dealer, but they can't even help us because the sunroof is "aftermarket". *sigh* after no less than 2 hours of Dad going back and forth with several supervisors, managers, executives, everyone but Mr. Longo himself (only because he's dead otherwise Dad would have DEMANDED to speak to him since Dad bought his first car directly from Mr. Longo when Longo Toyota was a small mom and pop operation blah blah blah) about the fact that he bought the vehicle from LONGO TOYOTA with the sunroof in it and it is therefore their problem because it couldn't possibly be "aftermarket" and them explaining to him that they are aware of his purchase agreement with Longo and the vehicle was a turned in lease that no one altered in any way, but they didn't make the sunroof, they installed it after buying it from another company...

Fast forward to Dad has hunted down the company that created this idiotic sunroof and driven us to some gawdawful far place on an early morning during our precious summer break. They say they can't fix it without tearing the whole sunroof out of the car and either welding a piece of metal over the hole, or installing a new sunroof for elebenty million dollars. If I hadn't been there that day, my beautiful baby would have a giant piece of metal welded over a giant sunroof hole right now, cuz Dad ain't payin' no elebenty million dollars... but it doesn't because I cried my 11 year old eyes out at the prospect of them tearing my car apart (I honestly had a welling up of panic, worry, fear, sadness, and anxiety like it was my child going in for a major surgery; I remember it very clearly). After the technician witnessed my heartbreaking display, he went back to the back and regrouped with his co-workers and they figured out a way to get the door unstuck for $65, and leave my 4-Runner intact. Female crying has been a motivating sight since the invention of the vagina, use it wisely.

[I already want to delete this post; see what I mean? Too long!]

Fast forward through many episodes of someone unknowingly pulling the slidey cover thing too far open and getting it stuck again (the guys at the car wash, Grandpa, Neighbor Kid, etc.); by the time I get it, Dad has given up on losing the skin on his knuckles to fix it. So, for the past 8 years, The 4-Runner has had it's sunroof uncovered in ceiling window status, 24/7.

This has created a nice little pocket where all the air from my front windows to hang out... for 8 years. Let's just picture what the ceiling looks like now.

For the past 6 months or so, I have had a constant stream of ceiling foam raining on my head when driving with my windows open, which is always.

The Hubby and I had to get our oil changed, and the place we go to is by Hacienda De La O, so we stopped by there to borrow their vacuum for a project... I was all set to cut that fabric down and vacuum the shit out of the ceiling; however, part of "the 4-Runner is mine deal" was that I am to return the vehicle to my father "when I'm done with it" so he can make it a sand toy... yes, you read correctly up top; I'm the hot chick with the "4x4" glistening in chrome on my tailgate, and yes, I know how to use it (been 4-bi-n' since I was 9; therefore I am ~~white trash~~ awesome.). Exhibit A:

SO, he's having a hissy about cutting it. Instead, he wants to see if getting the slidey cover thing closed would help. He and Emily dig at it for about 45 minutes while I entertain the baby... cuz my nails are too pretty for that shit right now and this is one of the things Emily is really good at... messing with/fixing cosmetic portions of vehicles... she's also really good with a sewing machine. Anyway! Once the slidey cover thing was back in place, we determined that there was still a pretty big gap in the back of the window pocket from all the times we've had to dig the cover out of it. SO! I put the pretty duct tape on that to seal it.

FIXED! YAAAAYY!!

Fast forward to later that same afternoon, The Hubby and I have just gotten our oil changed and our cars are getting their complimentary wash. My car is done first, so I hop in and blow him a kiss and make my way to the freeway. I'm waiting at the freeway on-ramp light and notice something hanging from the ceiling in my peripheral vision. *ohnoohnoohnoohnoohnoohnopleasenopleasepleasepleaseno* WHAT THE FUCK??!!?!NNNNOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

The brilliant and gifted workers at the car wash have taken it upon themselves to force open the slidey cover, completely ignoring the duct tape all over it, to clean the sunroof window.

I fight the urge to make an illegal U-Turn to go and scream bloody murder in their faces for what they've done, rationalizing that they wouldn't even understand me anyway. I have a tearful meltdown of frustration on the way home and begin to assess the situation once safely parked at home. They have ruined the tape, but the cover isn't re-lodged into the hopelessly stuck position, again. THANK HIS SAUCY NOODLE!

RE-Duct tape that shit... FIXED AGAIN!! YAAAY!!! Now, I'm going to tape a huge piece of paper over the handle of the slidey cover that says "If you touch this, I will cut your fucking face off!!" in Spanish.

...and that's the story of The 4-Runner's sunroof from beginning to the present. DONE, Part 1 of ???

Until next time...

Paradise

2011-09-26T10:00:00.000-07:00

Remember when I proclaimed that we had found the perfect place to live? Yeah, you have no idea.

On or about September 13th there was a pleasant note left on our provided note clippie stating that management would need to enter our apartment the next day for a routine inspection of our water heater.

The next day, there was a note left on our kitchen counter stating that they inspected our water heater, that they would need to replace it, and they would let us know when that would be.

On September 16th I received a phone call from our super peppy, nice property manager that Tuesday the 20th would be the day and that we would be without hot water from 10:30 a.m. to approximately 2:30 p.m.

September 20th we had a new water heater when we got home from work and there was a note that the new water heater set up would be inspected the following day.

September 21st, this note was on our kitchen counter:

That Starbucks gift card wasn't the cheapy $5 minimum, that baby had $10 on it.

So, not only did they replace our water heater without it blowing up in our faces first and then waiting 10 days for someone to come rip out a wall or something to replace it, but then they didn't have the part they needed for our specific water heater... or other such rental nonsense, we got a brand new water heater while we were at work AND $10 Starbucks money.

IF we ever leave this place, I think we'll stick with Cannon Management, thanks.

Until next time...

It's called ART, bitch.

2011-09-20T14:45:00.000-07:00

As you all know, I am so very proud of my HLP and all her creativity and awesomeness. What you don't know is that she now has a wonderfully refurbished website for you to check out (NSFW).

I ~~did it for her~~ helped!

In fact, if it wasn't for my overbearing organization and hyperlinking skillzzz, she'd still have the *ahem* wonderful *coughcough* simple website she threw together one night so she could put a website on her business cards.

My first visit to this page... It was one of those moments where you have super high expectations because of awesomeness in other areas, then when you see it you have a Christian Siriano moment... not the fierce/fabulous one... the hot mess one.

Naturally, I couldn't let that continue. She was giving the web address out... to people! People were looking at it!

It's not 100%, but it's a far cry from what it was. We still have to work out the schematics for the store and the gallery is missing a lot of her work that still needs to be scanned, but weezz gots day jobs, yo. So all in good time.

Anyway, I'm super proud of us and hope you will go be proud of us too. (NSFW)

Until next time...

P.S. Did I mention NSFW? Kay good, cuz it's NOT!

Deep Thoughts

2011-09-20T12:29:00.000-07:00

Why do we (we being America? dunno) reinforce bad habits in children by using the positive counterpart as punishment?

Examples:

You forgot your batting gloves for practice = Extra Running (aka Exercise)
You mouthed off to your mother = you're washing AND drying the dishes tonight! (aka Cleanliness)
You got bad grades this quarter = a weekend of pulling weeds (aka Good Gardening)
You threw your sibling's favorite toy out of the car window = all pet chores for a week! (aka Good Pet Parenting)

Then you grow up to be a fat slob of an adult who has feral cats running all over your property which is so over grown, even the gas meter reader guy is like, "well fuck that".

It just makes sense! Is there science somewhere to back this up? I swear, I'm on to something here.

Maybe instead of offering Exercise, Cleanliness, etc. over as punishment, maybe better punishments would be doing whatever bad behavior they displayed over and over and over until they HATE IT! and want nothing to do with it. I realize that's probably pretty effing impossible (how are they supposed to throw their sibling's favorite toy out the window over and over?), but the logic is what I'm getting at... things to think about.

Until next time...

STOOOOOOP!!!

2011-09-13T09:11:00.000-07:00

Irrational Hands-Off Area: Belly-Button & Arm/Leg Creases

Don't, just DON'T! Don't fucking touch me there! Seriously, DON'T!!!!!

Not ticklish, not disfigured, not abnormal... just fucking awful, gut wrenching, skin crawling, blackout inducing awfulness!

Dad was a tickle monster, always. When in doubt, he's going to pin you down and tickle you. RUN! FOR YOUR LIFE!! He is the tickle-until-they-hyperventilate-so-hard-they-turn-purple-and-pass-out tickle monster. He found your weak spot? You're fucked.

Obviously, his favorite torture was to mercilessly "tickle" the ever-living shitfuck out of my belly-button and arm/leg creases. OH MY GAWD it was HORRIBLE!!!

You laughed until it hurt, then you cried and gasped and squirmed and fought... that's when it got fun for him and his audience and stopped being fun for you. It could have been worse. Dad could have been the wrestling type, or the lock you in the basement/cupboard type, so I embrace this part of my past lovingly... but in the moment, when there's nothing you can do but scream for mercy...

I can't even... there are no words to describe. JUST STOP!!! FUCKINGGAWDAWFULFUCKSHITMOTHERFUCKSTOOOOOOP!!!!!

I'm getting all squirmy and anxious just thinking about it... he probably thought it was all good fun for everyone, including me... *shudder*

Hubby thinks I'm nuts, but he knows better than to try for the belly-button for any reason. If I were to start hemorrhaging out of my belly-button, and the only way he could save my life would be to apply pressure to my belly-button until help arrives, he would know to knock me unconscious first; probably with the nearest skillet. It's the most humane way, really.

You can imagine the crust that accumulates in there... I'm not ashamed; I have a mental incapacity to touch my belly-button; it is what it is. Once in a while, I'll drink a copious amount of wine, break out the Q-Tips and peroxide, and go at it for a few minutes... Spring Cleaning, if you will.

Did you lose your breakfast? My job is done here.

Until next time...

I'm a, slaAAAAave, for you.

2011-09-08T09:27:00.000-07:00

Since you guys REFUSE to post any comments, or give me any sort of emotional feedback whatever for my hard work on here, I have now become a slave to the page stats.

I'm up to twice a day now, checking how many page views I have on here... *hangs head in shame*

I'm not even completely convinced these stats are accurate. There are times when it says "5 views yesterday" for 4 days... suspicious.

I just thought you should know the hoops you make me jump through for your amusement; weather you are aware or not.

Until next time...

P.S. POST A GOTT-DAMN COMMENT!!!! Even just a "Hi" would fill the void to overflowing; I'm desperate! xox

Update: I just looked; the last comment I got was May 5th...

Blooooon!

2011-09-06T12:18:00.000-07:00

Childhood Irrational Phobia: Balloons

Specifically, the limp/airless ones.

Reason as described by my parents: My first birthday party was decorated with an immense amount of balloons on the floor. They thought it would be fun for me to play in them...

They can't really explain why; maybe it was too hot, or maybe we had a lot of needles in our carpet, but for some reason, the balloons started popping... all together in a chorus of horror. Apparently, I was scarred deeply.

The noise isn't what stayed with me; it was the shredded pieces of rubber that haunted my being.

My dad reminisces on the time he took us to the park by our new house. I was 3-years-old and having a lovely time. He watched as I bravely started to run across the suspension bridge to the slide when SUDDENLY! I came to the most abrupt halt a 3-year-old can accomplish, and started screaming as if I was being eaten from the inside out by tiny, rabid hyenas (like blood cell size, but billions of them). He promptly shit himself and ran to my aid.

When he arrived at the bridge, I immediately pointed and yelled bLOOOOOOOON!!! at the top of my tiny lungs, while still frozen in place with terror.

All attempts by him to get me to go around the wasted balloon were fruitless. He says he chuckled all the way up the jungle-gym to get me; I was holding up the line. He ends this story with "that's when I knew you would need therapy because of those balloons at your party."

Until I was approximately 12 or 13, even the thought of touching an airless balloon would make my skin crawl.

The fear was swiftly beaten out of me by the Leadership teacher in middle school; no therapy needed. I took the elective, thinking it would be better than taking Choir again... and it WAS! I loved that class, however... everyone was expected to help with the construction of the balloon arches for our various "school spirit" events. At first, I tried to busy myself with other tasks in order to avoid having to help. I thought about admitting my fear, but then quickly determined that jumping into a live volcano would be an easier death.

I don't actually remember the moment when I swallowed my fear and started tying the balloons; I think I closed my mind to what I was doing and waited for it to be over. Eventually, after several thousand balloons later, easing my way up from tying the filled balloons to doing the filling, I wasn't afraid anymore. They're just rubber, limp, stretchy rubber... I'm completely cured now; I swear.

Until next time...

Don't you wish I worked with you?

2011-09-01T10:25:00.000-07:00

An email I sent this morning:

Hi Everyone,

Someof you know about the death of the 60 sheet capacity PaperPro in the fileroom. After several attempts to revive it, it had nothing left to give.

Theautopsy report came back, and it appears the stapler was carelesslydisassembled in an attempt to dislodge a jam caused by the incorrect staplebeing forced into the stapler.

Inan attempt to prevent this in the future, I have created a numbered staplesystem as follows:

1= ¼ inch, Regular Office Staples

2= 5/16 or 3/8 in, 60 Sheet Capacity Staples

3= 3/8 in, 100 Sheet Capacity Staples

4= 5/8 or ½ in, 150 Sheet Capacity Staples

Thestaplers are all labeled with their proper staple refill number and there is alabeled drawer cube of staples in both the supply room and the file room.

Ifyou have any questions about this numbering system, or about the stapler inyour office/at your desk, please do not hesitate to ask.

Sincerely,

Laura

Until next time...

Confession: Grammar

2011-08-31T13:41:00.000-07:00

I shore do love me some grammar. The proper use of "they're", "their", and "there" is the quickest way into my panties.

HOWEVER, I am not a grammar expert. Personally, I think the only person on this planet who can call herself a grammar expert is Mrs. Katy Miller, seriously. (High School English Teacher and the O.Grammar Nazi)

I still get confused sometimes and have to look things up. I don't always have my independent clauses properly situated between other clauses with a coordinating conjunction and the do-hicky with the letters, or whatever...

THE POINT IS! I care enough about making sure what I'm typing is the same as what I want to say, to look things up and learn from my mistakes. I only ask that the rest of the world do the same. Also, knowing how/when to use a semi-colon isn't rocket science; I'm just sayin'.

So, with that, go out into the world and be grammatically correct. It's worth it.

Until next time...

Blogs are hard.

2011-08-31T11:11:00.000-07:00

My Lord Google has graciously purchased my bloggy machine so my life can be further consolidated. They even made a snazzy new interface that I quite enjoy.

All of this freshness and pizzazz makes me want to spruce up the ol' blog, but I think I would rather go bra shopping with a Migraine and bamboo under my fingernails. WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE SO HARD!!!!

I have so many ideas that are stuck in my noggin cuz I can't get CSS and HTML to stay in my brain long enough to understand them. It's so FRUSTRATING!!!

What I have now took HOURS on the stupid blogger template creator and I'm still unhappy with it. It's as close as I could get to the prettiness in my head with the limited knowledge and tools I have available to me.

SO, help? Teach me; do it for me; work with me; I'm desperate.

Until next time...

P.S. I'm aware of wordpress' powers of magic and sorcery; however, I am extremely intimidated by merely the installation of the software, so using it is probably out of my league.

ll Pause

Tap, Tap, Tri-Seat

DLLS

Sucker Punch Dreams

Changing the World

Matryoshka I.R.L.

SHOUT OUT:

Come Down

What day is it?

DLLS

August 6, 2005

THIS! IS! SPARTA!!!

Help a blogger out.

Vegan Cheese

Little Largent

"Nah, they'd have to have it on a line."

I get it.

Dear Jon

"Woah" - Joey Russo

x0x0x

Vegan Sharpshooter

I can haz [veggie]burger?

TOMS!

BOOBIES! and other lady bits.

*choke/sob*

Hoover Floor Mate

Customer Service? Ppfshshshsh

Blogger Schedule

"two girls one cup made me laugh"

Proverbial Shit is Shitty

How old am I?

Sorry Cartman

Anniversary & Announcement

She's a Terrorist!

No Moar Interwebs?

Sinuses are overrated.

You have 6 hours...

"Fragile? It must be Italian!"

What, did your dog die?

Obligatory "Best Of" Post

"They" can ALL be wrong, sometimes.

a honeymoon, finally

Unwrapped

*confetti rains from the ceiling*

*peeks between fingers*

DONE!

The Yodeling Pickle

Drugs are bad, hmmkuay.

Let me pencil you in.

The stockings were hung...

Moment of Silence

Blogger Fail

Fish ≠ Amazeballz

Road Trip!

Equal Opportunity Asshole

L.O.G.F.

LOOKLOOKLOOK!

Indeed, Sir

Thankful for face shields?

Gobble Gobble

Packing Tape Reads Pause

Too emo/old?

Life's too short.

Yeah, it's bad.

Best. Day. EVER!

Forever Unclean

The Clammy Kid

AAAAAAlaBOAAAArd!

OMnomnomnomnom

Heads Up, 7 Up

Halloween Roundup

The Speear-its

Hipster Clean

Frat House Frige

"I'm not dead yet."

Bathroom Emergen-Z

Bathroom Emergen-C

Lotion Bandit Comes Clean, etc.

Drum-Roll Please...

No more sleeps!

choke/sob

confetti rains from the ceiling

peeks between fingers