My head is now public property.

"Hey, Baldy!" yelled the overweight man as he passed by my office door, light gleaming off of his completely shaven, bulbous noggin.  He had the back of the neck ripple. It's weird.

'He didn't even donate. How DARE Mr. Clean call me that,' I simmered, already angst filled from a frustrating day at the day job of doom.  I realized then that I gave up rights to my head of hair as soon as I posted my first notification for the St. Baldrick's event. People now have OVERT opinions on my choice to shave, on my appearance now that I have shaved, and the growing out process. And I want to punch them.

A kind gentleman today told me I was stupid for cutting all my hair off.  Another gentleman said that I was beautiful, and that I should keep it short. They feel like the own a piece of me now, and it's frustrating that I can't express to them that while I invited them into my life for the shave, I don't really need them now. It's hard enough dealing with my short haired self worth issues without adding on the opinions of strangers.  Do I like my hair this close cropped? Not really. I look like a q-tip stuck into a basketball with legs. It's ok. It'll grow out. Am I glad that I did what I did? Fuck yeah. But the commentary is wearing on my nerves.

I am not a person who feels a need to chime in on the physical appearance of others, unless I am complimenting them.  Hopefully, once the hair gets a little longer on top and stops looking so weird, the commentary will stop.

I may be a little sensitive right now. Especially since a member of the club just came in, pet my head, and told me it feels like his pussy cat.

LAUREN SMASH!

Mother's Day 2014

In honor of the day for Mother's and my own mother, here is a list of awesome things about my mom. I give you 16 Reasons My Mom is Awesome Sauce. 16 is my current age divided by 2. I was going to do 32, but my internet was down at home and this should have been posted yesterday.  So, I'm basically writing it at work the day AFTER Mother's Day.

1. She taught me that reading was an escape and a joy. 
2. She allowed me to choose what I wanted to read which lead me to a love of sci fi, horror, and fantasy novels more than anything in this world. 
3. She instilled in me a passion for the written word and to express myself in any way I could. This lead to newspaper articles in middle school and really bad poetry during my teen years.  Also, a cool web comic that I love and a blog that is only sometimes angry.
4. She encourages any endeavor I have ever explored. When I chose to pursue environmental science, she got me into a magnet program. When I ditched that and got into acting at age 15, she took me to auditions. She saw every show, and jumped in to help make costumes, sets, and even took over the drama department in high school when there was no one to teach. She bought tickets for my first show with the Puppies on Friday and encouraged me to drink wine afterwards. That's LOVE, people!
5. She encouraged any and all travel. She planned so many awesome vacations (obviously with my awesome dad, who I'll do 33 awesome things for on my birthday/Father's Day), drove most of the United States in a conversion van, and created a desire in me to see the world.  She suggested I travel with Up With People. She suggested I move to KY to start an acting career with Shadowbox. Come to think of it, maybe she just wanted me out of state.
6. Any time I have ever moved, she and my dad have been there. Even when we drove to KY. Mom and I drove my Chevy Cavalier, and made puns all day and night. "99 doctors walk into a bar...
7. Whenever I'm having a tough time, she's there. Just there. Maybe with a little guilt, but she's still there.
8. She has a cheesy sense of humor.  THE CHEESIEST.  And I got that from her.
9. Hanging with her is like hanging with a really good friend who has lots of advice. Sometimes I forget that she is my mom and not just some sassy gal pal.
10. My mom instilled in me a desire to try new things. Food...activities. Nowadays she pretty much just shakes her head when I tell her the next thing I'll be doing, but she was at my trapeze lesson with video camera in hand, laughing along with me.
11. She is fiercely independent and taught me that love sometimes needs a breather. When I was 5, she moved three kids back to Ohio to be near her dad, who was diagnosed with cancer.  My dad stayed in Florida because of work and visited when he could. I'll always know that my mom made a decision for herself and her kids, knowing that Dad would be there for us. 
12. She has a very distinctive laugh. It's "HA!" at an almost dog pitched level. I also have that laugh. I love it.
13. "Oh, Lauren" is a phrase I have gotten used to. I heard it the one time I showed up for a job I found in the paper in Cincinnati that ended up being a door to door art sales job.  I ended up an hour and a half away from home, broke and abandoned by some weirdo with garbage in her car and friends had to come and rescue me.  Told my mom about the debacle...and it was, "Oh, Lauren."
14.  She's helped me through some pretty awful times. Depression, anorexia, and a ton of other awful things and right there, always, was mom with a hug, a late night chat or a shopping day.
15. She made me want to learn new things always. Show an interest in the stars?  She got a telescope and had us out in the back yard on blankets. Then scheduled a drive up to Cape Canaveral to see a lift off. Then a visit to Kennedy Space Center. She wanted to learn more so she went back to school and took classes. She was and is what inspired my curiosity about this world.
16. She's my mom. As my little sister, Brooke, said so delicately yesterday, "Thanks for shooting me out of your vagina."

LOVE YOU, MARMEE (even though you hate that nickname!)

Chugga, chugga, chugga, chugga...

During a conversation with my mom on the facepage today, she called me the Little Engine That Could in response to me saying "I think I can."

I am the Little Engine That Could. We all are.  We're all dragging a load over the mountain, and perhaps this load was meant for larger engines.  Maybe no one thinks we can do it.  But we can.

I think I can...get out of bed today.

I think I can...forgive someone today.

I think I can...breathe. One breath at a time.  One step at a time.

I think I can...perform again.  As much as it causes me doubt, it also brings me so much joy.

I think  I can...be happy. Really happy.  Not just, "I'm pretending to be happy so you leave me alone" happy. But happy. 100 days, 500 days, all my days.

I think I can...do this.

I think I can...get motivated to love myself again. Care for myself again. Stop being afraid of anorexia and stop overeating.  I say this after emotionally gorging on Taco Bell last night and feeling like death today.

I think I can...stop blaming overeating on emotions.

I think I can...think of more things to say 'I think I can' about.

Maybe not the last one.

I'm tired right now. But I think I can get through this day, through the next and start believing in myself.

CHOO CHOO!!