My hands smell like rubber because I've been wearing elbow-length yellow gloves for the past couple of hours. A serious cleaning binge was due and I ventured to Wal-Mart at 11:00 pm for supplies. I was disturbed by several things I encountered while standing in line:

-Two boys, roughly 20 years of age, purchasing Nair for Men and L'Oreal coverup.
-A man, roughly 311 lbs., wearing a white t-shirt about to give, with a Star of David on the back with the words "Jesus Loves You" inscribed inside.
-A diminutive women purchasing at least $150 worth of cleaning supplies of varying strengths, purposes and fragrances. I realize the irony as I was also at Wal-Mart, late at night, purchasing cleaning supplies of varying strengths, purposes and fragrances, but really!

I suppose one should not judge a book by its cover - I paid for my entire order in singles.

I also think I saw a tranny and a drug deal - not related. I'll have a real update soon...have a lot to report. Clearly still battling insomnia - I take these Eckerd-brand sleep pills from time to time but they make me feel weird the next day and impair my depth perception.

Clearly the reason I obliterated an orange safety barrel two weekends ago and just had to lay down $250 for a new left mirror. :) :) :)

So, I was taking my evening stroll earlier when I started down the very steep path that adjoins the shady part of the apartment complex (my side) with the slightly less shady part.

Suddenly, a teenage boy on a bike with a basket that appeared to be carrying his fabric lunchbox flies by me. Miffed and alarmed that this little bastard on a Duffy almost hit me, I look up and see the best non-injurious bike crash ever!

The boy hits a crack in the pavement and gets thrown into the grass next to the path, literally right in front of my feet. For a moment I am concerned and glance over to see if he’s hurt, even consider helping him up before I opt to step over the bike and run away laughing.

No worries! Bike, boy and lunchbox were unharmed and yes, I am completely evil for laughing.

In other news, I will be in Denver, CO this weekend for my sister's wedding! This is my preemptive warning that I will get totally sauced and based on previous events try to convince you I am 1.) lost, 2.) actually named "princess," 3.) lost, all through slurred voicemails and incomprehensible text messages.

XOXO

So I was sitting here in my holiday snowman boxers, squandering my immense fortune on iTunes downloads when I made a pact with myself--I was not allowed to pay for any more music until I had finished the painstaking process of transferring all my CDs onto my home PC (and later onto my iPod).

I was rifling through my modest CD collection, when I found myself yet again grappling with the difficult question of whether or not to trash my burned version of Room for Squares, John Mayer's freshmen attempt at music.

Sure, listening to one of this pretentious, saccharin sweet melodies about past love affairs make me a little nauseous, but there's sentimental value I just can't deny. Plus, he has great hair. And if that's not a reason to love an artist, then I'm going to have to toss my entire N'Sync collection. I was just about to partake in an iconic snapping of the CD when I was momentarily diverted by something even worse than a burned copy of a John Mayer album....

A love mix!

There before me was a white Memorex CD, 80 minutes in length, with the inscription "Forever Beautyful (yes spelled like that) Mix" in blue sharpie. Well nothing gets my heart racing like misspellings and crappy music. Let the fun begin!

I prepared myself for the usual suspects. Frank Sinatra, Righteous Brothers, Elton John, Chicago, Celine Dion, Peabo Bryson, Eric Clapton, maybe even a touch of John Mayer if our paramour in question isn't too old school. Suddenly, I found myself in a cold sweat with Wind Beneath My Wings resonating in my head. I popped the CD and hoped for the best:

1.) Back that Ass up by Juvenile
2.) Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus
3.) Machinehead by Bush
4.) Hot in Herre by Nelly
5.) Move Bitch by Ludacris (somehow I think the title might be spelled differently and with many more consonants)
6.) Stay (? I think that's the title) by some generic sounding Lilith Fair hopeful
7.) Don't Forget About Me by Simple Minds
8.) Forever Young by Alphaville
9.) Tenderness by General Public
10.) Take On Me by Reel Big Fish (the ska version that I thought was "so cool" at the time. Yeah, I KNOW.)

Anyways, the point to this foray into the past was despite the odd mixture of songs, the love mix brought me back to the moment like nothing but an awkward, drunk run-in with the alleged ex, can do.

So, what is the ultimate love mix song?

I was going to write a long, melancholy entry about how I haven't visited Athens in over 3 months and that I'm longing for a stroll on north campus, a night downtown, crab rangoons from my favorite china buffet, a jog in the Botanical Gardens.... However, rather than bore the already dwindling LJ audience, I thought I'd refrain. That, and I'm trying to reinforce that Athens is just a dirty little city in the middle of nowhere that I don't want to visit anyways. Right. That's coming along nicely.

Anyways, I saw Titanic for the first time this weekend. I cannot reveal my whereabouts or who I was in the company of during the viewing, but I admit with regret that I did not hate it as much as I wanted to. Don't get me wrong, the dialog was expectedly atrocious and the perfectly timed interludes of whimsical celtic flute music kind of made me nauseous, but I was still interested enough to watch the whole 37 hours of it. I suppose there is something appealing about a very damp Leo clinging to things for dear life. That's my boy. However, me and an unnamed party were wondering why that fat bitch Rose wouldn't let Leo have a splinter of wood while they were floating around in the Atlantic. For God's sakes!

I also had a personal training session this Saturday. Robert the trainer sort of looked like his real name was Lars and he could carry a refrigerator like a backpack. I had to do a cornucopia of leg exercises that have rendered me motionless today. Overall, it was a very enjoyable experience and I'm thinking about going back for some more.

I leave you tonight with a question: what makes someone "right" for you? The answer to this might seem obvious (similar interests, common beliefs, shared desperation), however so many times I've seen a person's status change at the drop of a hat.

When someone gets dumped, his/her friends will rally around them tossing around, while good-intentioned, completely cliche pieces of advice. "There are a lot of fish in the sea." "You just have to put yourself out there." "Get over it, she was a slut." However, it all boils down to one phrase: "He/she just wasn't right the one."

However, logically, it's hard to believe that the dumper in the situation has suddenly altered their interests, beliefs and overall personality. Last week, he/she was perfect because they liked indie rock and thai food. Now, they're on par with beelzebub because they don't like the dumpee anymore. Does someone go from wrong to right based on how they feel about you?

Not sure where I was going with this...just curious I guess. Night night!

I don't have the energy to complain tonight. Here are some old pictures I found on this broken down Compaq I'm being forced to use. Love the quintessential posed graduation shot with cap in hand...! And please notice, I'm even smiling.

I am moving to Atlanta this weekend. Way past due. Under duress a few of my co-workers have agreed to help but any additional manpower would be appreciated because as previously mentioned, I detest physical labor. I also got a sassy new 'do.

I think this could be my iconic photo (sassy new hair not pictured):


So I was very pissed off in traffic this morning...I am an avid listener of Q100's the Bert Show mainly because they show little to no hesitation in ridiculing each other and their callers. However, a bit that the ladies on the show did this morning throttled me. They were having callers relate anecdotes about sex/cheating/hookups and deeming the callers' behavior either "skanky" or "not skanky."

Now I know I'm going to be automatically labeled as one of those people who can't take a joke, but let me assure you that I laugh at one jew joke a day without so much as a grimace. That being said, I thought the whole segment was a little malicious.

One caller was sleeping with her boyfriend and his cousin. Naturally, her behavior fell under "skanky." Another caller described how her sorority sister slept with two guys from one frat and then two guys from another frat and had the whole sorority banished from both indefinitely (gasp!). This behavior: "skanky." In fact, they referred to the sorority girl at question as the "bedwarmer."

Fine, so sleeping around with Tom, Dick, Jerry and Jerry's cousin may not be nice. It may not be conducive to staying rash-free, but should a group of modern-day women really call other women's behavior skanky?

Most of us in our 20s have sex. Sometimes with one person, sometimes with many. Who really has the moral superiority to decide how many is too many? And yes, sleeping with your boyfriend's cousin may not be nice or responsible, but I heard no one on the Bert Show condemning the cousin. If we are presumptious enough to judge this overtly and intently, shouldn't the playing field be even? Of course it's not. There's no word comparable to "skank" or "slut" for a guy that anyone would use with a straight face.

I agree that it was simply a radio segment that was supposed to be funny. However, women calling other women sluts just further perpetuates the notion that sexual freedom and flexibility is something to be condemned unless you're a man. It irritated me that women were actually calling in to be judged and to have their friends deemed morally bankrupt as well.

lovecrtoon has diagnosed me with a "failure to eliminate." Options, that is.

This could explain why I felt obliged to commit financial and professional suicide in the past 3 weeks. Quit a job, moved, started another job, quit that job, reclaimed old job. Toss in some ill-mannered see-sawing on a few personal issues and you have the disaster that is my life right now.

During my short stint in Augusta, I was standing outside the locked "laundry facility" in my red heels, sobbing over a bottle of Tide and dirty clothes, when a gentlemen resembling an aged Tupac Shakur approached me.

He provided quarters as well as some dime store wisdom. "If it's not life or death, you'll get over it."

Seems obvious, but it actually helped. Then he told he'd pray for me and I had to discount the incident entirely.

$3,000--buh bye.

So I went to Athens this weekend and got drunk with Lindsey and crew, and I don't mean the giggley, fun "let's take pictures and hug each other" drunk. I mean the "I almost fell in that pothole and I can't find my other shoe" drunk. Mauricio had to come rescue me. Apparently, I demanded french toast from IHOP and when he brought it for me, I fell asleep.

However, the weekend was not a complete disaster. While vegging out at Mauricio's, I had the good fortune to see this commercial. Work problem solved.

http://aaalpacas.com/ilovealpacas.html

dryden_lives_on took me to see Brokeback Mountain last weekend.

Many of the male viewers felt it necessary to partake in the obligatory heterosexual male reaction to gay men being intimate. Cover eyes and assert your heterosexuality by very loudly grunting and proclaiming "That just ain't right!"

You're watching a movie about gay cowboys! What do you expect? They are going to show two men kissing and simulating sex! No, they're not going to cut to a scene of deer frollicking in a field.

That actually reminds me of this dreadful 8th grade sex ed video where rather than show us the part about masturbation they rolled footage of some awkward kid walking on the beach. Newsflash, 8th grade boys are fully aware of their penises and their respective capabilities. Then again, I have to remember this is Cobb county....God forbid someone gets offended!

My point is guys, for those of you who say you have no problem with homosexuality but simply find it disgusting, that is having a problem with it!

It would be really refreshing to meet a heterosexual man who doesn't shutter when two men hold hands.

Dear Hanukkah Harry:
Next year, instead of a gilded menorah and thermal socks, can I just have a boyfriend who lasts through December?

Shalom, Lauren.

The holidays are always a curse for my relationships. Next year I'm trying Kwanzaa. Well it was great while it lasted....

No offense to the festival of lights, but Jews get totally gipped. We have all the crappy songs; we're always the only house on the block with no decorations, and we only get 8 nights to celebrate. Christmas starts in November!

So....there will be no decking of halls, nor ringing of bells in my house....we light candles damnit.

My self-censorship has prevented me from posting in recent weeks, but I need a purge of sorts, so I'm deferring to my favorite conduit, Livejournal.

Let me begin by saying I have revised one of my many theories on love. I used to believe the monnikers "soul mate" or "the one" were completely absurd, and that at any one time, there are hundreds, maybe thousands of people, who you could, if you choose, have a satisfying, fulfilling relationship with. I amend that statement. I still think the concept of destined partners is completely illogical....but now I acknowledge that instead of scores of people who match your criteria, there actually is no one who perfectly matches your criteria. Your best bet is to find someone who is close enough, and settle, for however long you so choose.

It's illogical to believe that just one person is your ONLY possible match. You meet people everyday, without rhyme or reason. Out of those people you filter out those who you find completely repugnant, and are left with possible candidates for co-habitation, sex, and possibly kids if you are a glutton for punishment. Then, out of that pool, you choose the very best candidate. The best possible match. However, this doesn't mean that there isn't someone in another state, maybe even another country, who couldn't match your criteria just as well. Relationships, love, warm fuzzies....they are all just a result of geography and circumstance.

Now, it's logical to believe that if you're a complete freak, or really picky, that maybe your odds are narrowed quite a bit. Even so, based on my personal experiences during rush hour traffic and in shopping malls, the wacko pool is large enough to accommodate a few candidates for each seeker.

I don't know what it is today....but I'm sad. Could be the gloomy weather....or my neurotic mother.

Apparently, you are ready to be an Atlanta driver when....
-Lane markers are just a suggestion to you
-You get in the left lane and do 45
-You make sure to align yourself with your neighboring vehicles so no one from behind can pass you
-You cut through 6 lanes of traffic to get to your exit
-You put your signal on when there's clearly not enough room to get over
-You get over when there's no room to get over
-You are an absolute prick who shouldn't have a driver's license

This commute is KILLING me.

This has to be a short update because I'm about to collapse in bed.

Firstly, we had to put my cat Polo to sleep Tuesday at 3 a.m. I know some of you might think it's silly, but I'm crushed. Polo was about 14, and had spent the majority of his cat life following me around, sleeping (in my room), and shitting on sweaters and bedspreads. The thing is, he had this incredibly grouchy, onorary personality which fit me perfectly. Once when we went on vacay, he made a "deposit" on my mom's bed every day we were gone forming what we affectionately deemed "Shithenge." Anyways, I'm not trying to be dramatic, I'm just bummed out about it. I feel a little pathetic for continuing to burst into tears about this, but I adored that little cat.

Second, I started my job Monday. So far, so good. More details to come.

Third, on my way to work this week, some fossil in a Nissan rolled down her window, flicked me off, and screamed, "You fucking bitch," after I wouldn't let her into my lane. My comments for this charming geriatric are as follows: 1-I hope you break a hip you old coot. 2-Do not try to nudge in front of me without gesturing first because I will not let you in, so you can just sit there and rot. 3-Should you really drop the f-bomb if you are older than say....100?

Over a year ago, I was making posts in my LJ about a "hot Peruvian" I was trying to seduce. We have been dating for nine months now and I wanted to make an entry about it. Now I know I have a bad reputation for being cynical, negative, and just generally grouchy towards things that make other people go AWWW, but upon getting to know me better, you will discover that I too love cheezy things.

Yes, I sat through 437 commercial breaks just to tape "I Swear" by All 4 One on a Maxell cassette. Yes, I still tear up during any romantic comedy containing Hugh Grant, flashbacks, unrequited love, or any combination thereof, AND....yes, I have reduced myself to taking couples photos and smiling occasionally.

So, what I'm about to post here may make some of you go AWWW. Others of you may roll your eyes and become nauseated. But for once, I'm going to be unapologetically cheezy because I love this guy and he deserves more than just a few measley lines in a journal entry.

This is my wonderul and shirtless boyfriend, Mauricio.




I couldn't have asked for anyone better. :)

You can rest easy tonight knowing that my LJ will no longer be fraught with complaints of my unemployment because....I am now gainfully employeed. Hoorah!

I know, can you believe it? Someone finally decided to overlook that pesky University of Georgia bachelor's degree and give me a job anyways. I'm really excited to start working, but I still have this lingering fear that at any moment, the man who hired me will renege on his offer, and I will be banished to unemployment HELL again. I won't be satiated until I have that formal request for employment in my hot little hands.

Now, you didn't think that you could escape the bitchery quite yet, did you? In honor of the past 4 months I've spent in unemployment hell, I would like to extend a THANKS to all the companies that said NO THANKS to me.

So here it is. Thank you other companies. Thank you for giving me a chance. I thoroughly enjoyed filling out that 20 page application where you requested that I list every shitty ass part-time job I've had since I started puberty. And thank you for making me drive to timbuktu, during rush hour, and then ending the interview after 10 minutes. Oh, and that arithmetic test you made me take, well it was quite challenging, but why would I know how to add and subtract after 4 years at a highly ranked public university? And most of all, thank you for having the courtesy to send me a rejection letter after all the trouble I went to. Thank you, really. I will always remember fondly the 15 minutes we spent together in your lovely office, nothing but a potted ficus between us. You asked me boring questions. I gave you scripted answers. It was beautiful.

Seriously, despite appearances, I'm really happy. Getting a job has really cheered me up. Oh, and the fact that I might be going to a Depeche Mode concert this weekend! If all goes as planned, and Tony comes through with tickets, I will be in 80s electronica heaven. It could only get better if Morten Harket showed up and we ran around in storyboards.

Anyways, what else, what else....well I took Mauricio to Bones in Atlanta for his birthday dunch (dinner+lunch) or lunner, as he claimed we should call it. Everything was tasty and we OOHed and AHHed at the fancy decor and fine glassware that is lacking at our favorite eatery, the Happy China Buffet. Of course, I felt Bones was missing that certain je ne sais quoi. I simply cannot enjoy dining somewhere without sneeze guards and a sign that warns: PLEASE TAKE YOUR TURN AT THE SEAFOOD DELIGHT. EVERYONE WOULD LIKE SOME CRAB LEGS.

Anyways, the company was great and my lovely boyfriend is now 22, or dos dos as I so incorrectly kept saying. Well, that's it for now. Next time, my update will be shorter. I swear. Really.

Playboy bunny or Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs? Off to A-town for the weekend. Have a good one kids.

To save you some heavy reading (not to be be confused with heavy breathing, which you can do), I will recap my past week as briefly as possible: coffee w/ Marcia, dinner w/ Tony, booooring interviews, sleeping, sleeping, sleeping, got to see Heather [yea!], more boooring interviews, and last but CERTAINLY not least, a wonderful weekend with Mauricio involving mass consumption of buffet style Chinese food.

Yum.

Of the many reasons I love this man, topping the list is that he never comments on my second helping of General Tso's chicken. Or the entire plate I devote to Crab Rangoons and Chinese Donuts.

I highly recommend the Happy China Buffet off Barrett Parkway. Everything was delish, except for maybe the wonton soup which tasted like socks.

Ok, so here comes the part of my usual latenight post where I start bitching about something or another because really isn't that what LJs are for?

I think too much. At any given moment I fear that some jumbled mess of ideas, concerns, theories, and thoughts will spew from my mouth. I feel like everything is on repeat until resolved, and lately, not much is going on in that department. Some of the time I get so overwhelmed that I can't say anything.

I don't even really know where I'm heading with this livejournal purge gone horribly awry, but I suppose I could sum it up with something I told Marcia:

I was at some boooring interview, patiently waiting in a white, rectangular prison cell/conference room, when I caught a glimpse of I-75 through the window. It was literally packed with cars, bumper to bumper, one horribly crazed driver after another. Rather than inspire the usual mental diatribe about rush hour traffic being the modern day equivalent of medieval water torture, the packed interstate made me think:

Look at all those cars. All those people. People I'll never meet.

And that made me think of all the songs I've never heard, movies I've never seen, places I've never been, books I've never read, words I've never committed to the page....

Why do I always want to do everything, but end up doing nothing?

Yes, this wouldn't be an an appropriately angsty journal entry without the obligatory, captialized-for-added-emphasis SIGH.

What was that about no heavy reading? I'm such a liar.

10 Firsts
First Best Friend: Courtney Little
First Screen Name: lgoldst256
First Piercing: ears
First Crush: Blake, this chubby blond kid in plaid
First Music: Take On Me (now, then, forever!)
First Car: 2002 Mazda Protege
First love: John Caroll
First concert: Dave Matthews
First DVD you bought: Love Actually

9 Lasts:
Last Cigarette: Freshman year in Uptown Lounge
Last alcoholic beverage: A month ago
Last Car Ride: Went to the postal service this morning
Last Movie: Bridget Jones, the Edge of Reason
Last Phone Call: About 10 minutes ago
Last CD Played: The Cars
Last time you cried: Earlier today, but just a little

8 Have You Evers:
Have You Ever Dated One Of Your Best Friends: No
Have You Ever Been Arrested: No
Have You Ever Skinny Dipped: Ew, no, I don't trust Chlorine.
Have You Ever Been on TV: No
Have You Ever Kissed Someone and Then Regretted It: No
Have You Ever had a Suggestive Dream About Someone You Knew: Yes
Have you ever had sex: Hahaha
Have you ever cheated: Yes

7 Things You're Wearing:
1. A high school student govt. tee
2. Cheerleading shorts
3. Black bra
4. Black panties
5. Pink toe nail polish
6. Bed head
7. A grimace

6 Things You've Done Today:
1. Mailed a resume
2. Deposited a check
3. Watched MTV for an inordinate amount of time
4. Talked to Mauricio
5. Looked for a job
6. Ate quesadillas

5 Things You Ate Today:
1. Quesadillas
2. Bananas
3. Butterfingers (fun size, so it's ok, or so I tell myself....)
4. Special K
5. Sugar cookie

4 People You Can Tell [ALMOST] Anything to:
1. Heather
2. Cameron
3. Marcia
4. Mauricio


3 Choices:
1. Black or White: Black
2. Hot or Cold: Cold
3. Sun or Rain: Sunny, but without the heat


2 Things You Want to Do Before you die:
1. Be rich
2. Be a writer, and not just on LJ

1 Thing you regret:
1. You only get to put one? But there are so many.... Ok, not ever realising what I want until it's gone.