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Nature SUUUUCCCCKKKKSSSS.

27 Jun

When did nature become a novelty for mankind? Didn’t we construct all these buildings and invent cars, electricity, and TV as well as develop the process of identification and exercise videos so we wouldn’t have to go back into nature? But for some reason people think it’s awesome to be “one” with nature… with a carload full of crap that you have to put together and set-up amongst the poisonous plants, rabid animals, and abundant insect kingdoms.

Nature has rejected me since as long as I can remember. More than rejected me. It kicks my ass and packs my bags for me.

As a white girl, with long eyelashes I can bat at a moments notice, the only violence and discrimination I have ever experienced has been in nature.

I almost lost a foot… and my mind… to 6 summers of consecutive life threatening Poison Ivey. (Although, it did get me out of church camp, which was OKAY!! with me. I’ve never been a fan of organized anything…too many rules, chants, and activities. I HATE activities. And I especially hate chants. Chants remind me of why people go on shooting rampages.)  I’ve been on numerous bouts of steroids from spider bites. I usually can bet there is a snake that with the slightest nibble will kill me instantly nearby, and the sunburns are endless.

Much to my dismay, I was raised in nature. Horses, land, gardens, chickens, the full enchilada. Go figure. So it’s been a 24/7/365 battle since I was born.

My father used to take me on painful canoe trips which would involve me talking in high pitch wails as I tried to use my negative muscle mass and defeated mental capacity to simultaneously maneuver us through the water whilst trying not to drown, be engulfed by what was under the water, and not die from whatever was gonna bite me above the water. While he watched. Needless to say I was not a happy “camper.”

Our family camp trips ended up with the four of us piling into the van ¼ mile away from home wishing we were dead.

So maybe I come by this honestly?

However, there is no “quit” in quitter… wait a second….

So I decided this summer I was going to defeat nature.

This was a stupid ambition.

20 minutes into attempt #1, the high pitched wailing had commenced.

I don’t understand this concept of float trips. People pay a lot of money to float down a piss infused river trying to avoid all the white trash drunken idiots that cannot control the fact that they should not be set free in this environment… they should be caged in a zoo… and they should not be allowed to produce cubs. It’s like an episode of Man Vs. Wild, but Bear Grills is nowhere in sight to make it “Bear-able.” 😉

 The only thing good about nature is fire. But you can build a fire… in air conditioning… with mosquito nets strung about wherever necessary.

Even after my 6 hour hell ride down the worst roller coaster ever invented, we were done. Thank God.

Let the fire portion commence.

However, nature was not done with me. I woke up with a lip the size of Asia and numerous other swollen appendages. The swelling was moving to my throat. I looked like I had been in a bar brawl with a gang of ginormous bikers that the only thing they hated in this world was blonde girls with long eyelashes that bat them whenever danger erupts.

I got the hell out of dodge and consumed enough Benadryl to kill a small dog.

After my 48 hour Benadryl coma, I only had the emotional scars to prove it. And thus decided to take a stab at it the next weekend…

Cause the first run was so much fun. Duh.

2nd time was way worse. I was attacked by the most horrific wild animal of all of them: Douchebags. Be VERY wary of this creature. They can yeild their revenous heads at a moments notice.

Douchebags should not be allowed around me. I have too much negative muscle mass I’m willing to throw around coupled with a harsh vocabulary.

After 6 more hours of hell, wondering why I did this to myself… again. I was dunked in the piss infused water by douchebag #1. I would have cold-cocked him with my paddle…if he would have let go of it. And instead decided to punch/slap (it’s a skill) him in the face and call him an abomination… annnndddd then attack his lazy eye condition.

PERHAPS I reacted unfavorably.  I’m waiting for the court order.

And I think I was really just taking it out on Mother Nature and her silly existence in my once well furnished, temperature controlled, sparkling porcelain toileted, and technology ridden world.

 That bitch burned me, bit me, and dirtied all of me. (Speaking of dirty…why do people even bother taking showers while camping? Like it’s gonna help washing off the outdoors when you’re STILL IN the outdoors. It’s like wearing a maroon polyester suit to …anything… ever… unless you are Napoleon Dynamite. It’s a waste of time.)  

Nature had a round two waiting for me. I woke up to rain and seriously poor engineering of our tent. I was ready to NEVER enter nature again. And have never packed faster in my life. Thankfully, I wasn’t SERIOUSLY bit (due to my Lynus-esque cloud of bug spray and my ingenious ability to wear 6 layers including a hood, gloves and knee socks… in 90 degree weather)… but I was emotionally scarred forever. Again.

 And thus brings us to my declaration of an indoors only policy from now on. (I would rather be herding chickens.)

 Who’s with me??

A pig, a bullfighter, and Hannbal Lecter.

15 Jan

Helllooooo MTV… This is my application for an amazing reality television show that would put “16 and Pregnant… and a Dumbass” to shaaame. I suggest we call my show “WTF is going on!?” and my Spanish spinoff shall be called “Que Pasa?!?! Que Pasa?!?!”

I am in Madrid and safe… but lordhavemercy I should have started learning Spanish before I left my mother’s womb. I have no idea what is going on most of the time and my jet-lag makes my mind lag worse than my sleep cycle. People look at me a bit strange but overall the biggest lesson I have learned thus far is… Julia Roberts made it look easy.

Bitch.

In true “Lauren crazy town” fashion (as if i didn’t have enough stalkers, crazy encounters, fumbles, and schizophrenics in my American life the force has decided to stay strong with this one abroad as well) I hit the ground running, traveling to Badajoz. Don’t ask me how to say that. But it’s what we in the Midwest would call the “country.” But this “country” across the pond is a little more… deadly.

We get there Friday night…after 6 hours of car sickness and a new shade of pale for my record-books…we get to see the pig… the next day I go back and I still see the pig… in a hundred pieces… but don’t worry… it’s head was still in tact… and it’s eyes… the eyes. They kill the pig (thank GOD I missed that, seriously), and then cook the pig, and then we eat the pig.

Lauren ate salad.

I thought I liked ham… but I didn’t understand. And sausage… I didn’t understand that either. They are making sausage… AT THE PARTY. And the smell … I REALLY didn’t understand that.

But so ok, the pig is dead… so what’s next… Horse riding! Yes that’s right I traveled thousands of miles to go to the country and watch people ride horses. Oh the irony. And even better bull fighting! Now the bullfighting is much different from the type I am very familiar with in America (due to the fact that my father has rodeo-ed my whole life) It was REALLY amazing, but perhaps I don’t understand what the point of it is OR that it didn’t matter because the bull fighter was cute…and he seemed interested… and he beckoned me over… and he didn’t speak ONE word of English. Nada. Not even “Hello” or “Hi” or “America.”

But don’t worry! because the engaged drunken Spanish guy the size of Napoleon knew enough English to let me know that 1)I had eyes like the sea and 2) my golden hair was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and that 3) he would leave his fiance for me anytime I wanted… in front of her.

Needless to say the fiance had eyes like Hannibal Lecter and… I’m not sure due to the language… but I think I’m lucky I made it out of there and back to Madrid without joining ranks with the pig.

Perhaps I taste better? I’ll keep you posted. 🙂

 

I wish I may, I wish I might.

18 Oct

Bitches

I broke down the other day and went against my hatred for Mandy Moore, singing in movies, and relating to little kids, and watched Tangled.

And the moral of the story is…

DON’T DO IT.

It was like a time machine that reverted me back to age of 5 where my biggest problem was how to break my addiction to eating insects (mmmm protein) and what color eyeshadow to put on my brother next. By the end of it I was sobbing. And found myself considering dropping everything in this so-called “reality” and start holding out for perfect long golden hair, a world without a need for shoes, a furry best friend who could talk back to me, and a prince charming that looks more like Ryan Gosling and less like Prince William. It worked for Rapunzel, Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty (I would pick her if I could be any… the girl looks REST-TED!), Jasmine, Pocahontas… the list goes on and on…so, why can’t it be me??

As young girls we SERIOUSLY believe these things can happen. Hello tragedy. It is taught at a young age… by a man no less (he goes by the name Disney. Walt Disney.)… that these things are not only possible, but can and should be expected. Ok, you hate your life, so you sit there and hope something awesome and magical will happen simultaneously with the birds chirping and the wind blowing through your dishwater blonde hair… or perhaps that dead opossum your mom just hit with her 1985 Lumina will magically spring back to life and join you in your favorite duet and dance off, taking your mind off the crap that has sent you to this hopeful/desperate place to begin with. This is not so. And at 26, reverting back to the desire of what once was real, sent me into an emotional tailspin.

And made me realize…

How can we be doing this to young girls?!? What an ultimate set-up.

One of my friends was discussing that she wants to write children’s books that go against these concepts that discuss the reality of relationships, hair… and forest creatures. And I am all for this concept. I’m not a feminist , but I believe in the conviction to be able to take care of yourself to an extent that dreams can come true and that those dreams are full of passion and compassion. 

There needs to be more reality in a world where most things are not perfect…EVER. Providing girls with the tools to support themselves, be independent, and think in a sincere and firm fashion is what I would want for my daughters. (As well as knowing two languages and have the skills to cook things that don’t come from a box.)

A man is not a necessity, a good head of hair is pure luck, and talking critters is… something the scientists had better be working on.

Quack, Quack and Say Cheese.

13 Sep

WTF?!?!? is up with the constant duck faces that are taking over photographs, poses, and general facial demeanor.

It is a travesty.

AND Facebook is conveniently providing the DREAM channel for 24/7 duck face possibilities. Some people have EVERY picture dedicated to the quest for the perfect duck face, all the while generally looking like a slut, looking stupid, and looking really, really… ugly. It’s like the Blue Steel of the 21st century… but waaaaaaay worse.

I’ve never looked at a duck and thought “Oh man! I wish I could look like THAT! Yes pleeeaassseee.” But apparently I’m not in sync with a majority of the female population who utilize this face (I guess?) as a mating call to attract their male counterparts online. The duck face epidemic is spreading faster than STD’s… and I have a strong suspicion that the two are most likely intertwined.

I wonder who started this trend?? I want to slap them across their duck face. Call me old fashion but smiling (or even just looking pissed off) seems a lot more normal and EASIER than the lip pout, nostril flare that is involved in duck face production. Add some caked on make-up… and gentlemen watch out! The ‘quacks’ are comin’ for ya! 😉

You know how if you keep your eyes crossed for too long they might stick? Same rules apply to the duck face.

Just say no!

Guiltless Fur Frenzy

16 Aug

So fur is definitely coming back in and I dunno how PETA feels about it personally, but I’m sure they are HEATED! However, I am also heated in my very warm fur vest. But fear not animal lovers, no adorable little critters that make appearances in Bambi or Cinderella were involved nor had to die… AND it is real fur.

How is this possible you may ask?

Well, thanks for asking. I have a fur vest made out of… drumroll please… opossum.

SCORE!

Who’s gonna get in an uproar and make you feel bad about an opossum? People purposefully hit them on roads due to the overwhelming collective disdain for opossum’s amongst the masses.

Poor opossum’s… I think they are seriously misunderstood… But they are also very warm and quite fashionable. 😉 New Zealand has a major opossum fur industry… so you can be both stylish and internationally exotic.

The Times They Are A-Changin’

25 Jul

I dunno if it’s the older I get and the more my eyes are opened or whether the world is taking a nosedive to Armageddon… but the more shootings, and natural disasters, and Osama Bin Laden’s, and debt crisis’, and the constant flow of rejection letters from jobs, I can’t help but have the sudden and fierce urge to just walk away from it all. Like go live in a tree and become the female version of Bear Grills with a guitar and a harmonica.

Aren’t all these things in this world that have been created to build society sort of rediculous to an exent? Why do we need Ipods and mansions and flat screen tv’s and Mercedes?? What is it doing for us? Just look what success did to Amy Winehouse. How eerie is it that we all just sat back and watched her demise?

We aren’t going to die with these material things… we will just be judged by our peers leading up to our death… but it won’t matter. 

My mom and I have been gardening (basically her though… my green thumb is more yellowish) and she has (psycho) chickens (I swear everytime I come home they are lined up, ready to stare me down), but these things are basic and they are really good. Fresh tomatoes and eggs just give the emotion that perhaps you are helping out the world in your own small way. That perhaps NOT supporting all those big buinesses that are trying to kill us with their 99% corn based fast food products is really a way to make a difference in some small way. (Maybe I’ve been watching Food Inc. too much)

But it just seems all so sad as the polar bears and penguins in the Arctic suffer and people feel compelled to go on shooting sprees in Norway, and terrorism abounds. What happened to the love and support of people and even strangers that can bring about a change big enough to MAKE a change stick? The creating a new way of thought.

The tornadoes in Joplin and the banding together of heaps of people that weren’t even directly affected by such a scary thing really were a testimony to the positive character of people that still exists and gives hope for the future. But we need more of that to outweigh the devastation that is all around us. It seems so exhausting as time goes on.

Hopefully for humanity and the planet, soon the “The times they are a-changin” for the better, or I’m going to be in the market for my first treehouse and hippie skirt.

Slithering Style

14 Jun

Look alive peeps… or dead if you are a reptile… this spring has kicked off a continuing trend of snakeskin all over from the runways to driveways. Meaning you don’t have to be able to afford the real deal but as long as you have something scaling in your wardrobe you are set for the upcoming year.

Move over kitty cats of the jungle, leopard is still in, but there’s a new trend slithering up to be the leader of the pack. There is no discrimination on color, style or product that has you hissing for more. From bags, to watches, to shoes, to belts, pick a staple and get to wearing it in. I would stick to an accessory that can be worn over and over and can transition across seasons. The skinny on snakes is here to stay for a while.  And I’m not up on my PEETA rules and beliefs , however I feel (slightly) comfortable noone is going to throw a fit or throw paint over a dead snake. bleh. And thank goodness snakes just go ahead and shed their skin for us so not alot of blood has to be involved. Has anyone ever cried over a python? NOT me. I’ll lead the battle against anything in that category… in case you are a lover of them you can find a really polished and realistic print. Zara has a great option in a pant.  

It’s time to discover your second skin of style this season and next.

ZARA

Karaoke Crap

10 Jun

I'm with Fred.

So there is something in this world that I absolutely do NOT understand at all… and would love for someone to explain it to me…

What is the fascination with Karaoke?

WHY is it popular to take a good song sung by a good singer and complete destroy it… usually by drunken and terrible singers who don’t always necessarily know the words.

And I’m sure at this point you are thinking well she’s just never tried it she doesn’t know what she is missing. But I HAVE tried it! Additionally, I have tried it at the highest most drastic and death-defying level. What are the details may you ask? Yes, I sang karaoke in NYC, on Time Square, with it being videotaped, and played on the jumbotron ON Times Square. Not nearly as awesome as it sounds… and I wasn’t nearly drunk enough. And needless to say it was completely brutal and permanently scarring. Perhaps this is why I hold onto complete disdain for the act, but I just don’t understand.

There are Beyonce’s and Christina Aguilera’s for a reason. The reason is that not your average person is that talented… isn’t that why they make the big bucks?? So I personally don’t think there is any need to attempt that type of talent and share the less than stellar average gifts that many of us possess.

Just keep it to the shower or not at all and let the rest of us drink in peace and go home to listen to Itunes.

Tori Spelling: New Baby AND New Pet?

11 Apr

SO Tori Spelling announced that she is having another baby to go along with another bad reality TV series, sTORIbook weddings (clever… wish I would have thought of it… but not really). Let’s Recap Tori’s career changes: First she was daddy’s girl, then she was an actress (if that’s what we want to call it…)… then she ran bed and breakfasts (that came out of left field)… then she wrote books… now she is a wedding planner. Sort of confusing.

But the photo that E! News online posted of her from the GLAAD Media Awards last night had me way more puzzled than about why she is procreating and the reasons why we should care.

It made me wonder what the hell is she holding?!?  NOW she is an exotic animal drag stylist?

I can’t decide if it is cute or frightening.

I have come up with 5 clues to help solve the riddle of what she is holding.

1) I think it is alive…

2) I think it may belong to the bird family…

3) I think it is wearing pearls…

4) I think it is possibly a new take on a purse….

5) I think it could be a descendant of Jim Carey’s new mohawk…


Anyone have any idea?

Chickens= Hitlers of the Barnyard

11 Apr

I saw a news report on the Today Show this morning (hardest hitting news around I know) about how chickens are fast becoming a contender against dogs and cats as a popular pet.

No no no no no. I am here to make a rebuttal.

Chickens are the scariest animals on the planet!

Have you ever looked at a chicken. I mean REALLY looked at it. They are terrifying with their beady eyes, there is no way that they should be able to keep balance with their large breast (singular) stuck out so far, they have serious attitude, and don’t get me started on their running habits. My mom has had a roost of chickens for a few years now and lucky me I get to baby sit them when everyone is out of town… which is often.

Fortuitously, on my birthday weekend everyone was gone. I had just moved back from Seattle and re-adjusting to ‘country life.’ I was suited up in sequins and ready to meet some friends for a night on the town… I didn’t understand that chickens don’t like to be put to bed before the sun goes down… and have no problem making their opinion known.

Shockingly, my attempt  (more like nightmare) at corralling 13 chickens into the damn coop was full of terrible language, neighbors snickering (I should have sold tickets), tree in what once was perfectly coiffed hair, and more chickens chasing moi than the other way around.

Thirty minutes in I was left wishing I had made the decision to declare war with the herd BEFORE I put on my party outfit.

Amidst the chicken uprising I realize…WE ARE MISSING A CHICKEN!!!! And on my watch. Great. And did you know you can’t call 911 for a missing chicken?!?!

Turns out, apparently there was just one STUPID chicken with bad timing (although I argue they are all unanimously stupid). Einstein had fallen in between the wall and the outside metal of his house, leaving himself wedged in between…his life at my mercy. Decisions. Decisions.

I look down to see what I am dealing with and this chicken is feet-up, seriously stuck, and seriously vocal about his predicament. And I am supposed to reach in and yank him out? I think not! I need serious moral (or medical) support and copious amounts of alcohol before this deed gets done. But time is running out!  And people are waiting!

Let the screaming commence.

Chickens take to beautiful (I put that in for me ;)) girls screaming at them while simultaneously searching for an appendage to make contact with, about as well as Courtney Love takes to sobriety. Talk about claws out.

One sure-fire way to turn ANYONE off chickens is to have to pull one out of a cranny (by one leg mind you) flapping and flying and pissed off!… Let’s just say I survived… but barely.

Chickens are not nice. Chickens are not sweet. And chickens are not pets. They are messengers from hell sent here to make eggs, provide their scientifically erroneous breast meat (I do feel for them that they only got one, but that’s as far as it goes on the compassion) and attack innocent bystanders such as myself.

Current Score: Chickens-1 Lauren-0

Don't look them in the eye!!

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