Fiction Friday-WOOOOO!

News: I  have an official boyfriend, he met the family, they love him, Bailee quit PMS, I cried and now I'm PMS'ing.

Now on to Fiction Friday.

I had a friend comment on a status update with "Mmmm, brains." So. That's gonna inspire today's Fiction Friday.  I hope you like it.

Brains

by This Girl

I've been sitting here, in this jar, for what seems like ages. Floating around in formaldehyde, with no stimulus other than the occasional mad scientist's assistant coming in to steal one of my neighbors for some crazy, misguided experiment. They never pick me.  They barely even glance in my direction.  I'm going to be honest and say that it's beginning to effect what was once a brilliant and somewhat egocentric mind.  I was never the last one picked. Always the first, always the best.  And now there is a film of dust covering the label on my jar that screams to the world two names that during my life were connected with the word genius.  I honestly couldn't tell you at this point of my death what those two names were, but I hope you'll forgive me as it's been years since this brain was actually inside a skull.

I can remember how I died. An argument with the wife distracted me whilst I was combining elements that required precision in measurements, and boom! My hands were blown to smithereens and I bled out on my laboratory floor while she screamed like a banshee for help that never came. Why I ever married that woman is a question I have pondered on countless occasions while on this shelf. I should have stayed in the lab when my dear mother told me to come upstairs for that ridiculous party.  I should have never bowed to societal pressures and began courting that ridiculous creature, and should definitely not have placed a carbon allotrope ring on her finger.  She was always nagging about how I loved my work more than I loved her, and she was right. That night she had gotten upset about my missing a dinner party. She claimed my absence caused her embarrassment.  Usually, her complaints fell on deaf ears, but the addition of flying missiles being hurled at me from the staircase caused my attention to wander.  I'm sure she has since remarried, or has died of consumption. I don't know and I don't care.

I long for the day when a hunchbacked Igor will grab my jar from the shelf.  When a Dr. Frankenstein will take my gray matter into his hands and plunge me into the cavernous skull of some patchwork cadaver, then animate me with the electricity of the gods.  The day will come when I will be able to walk and talk and create again.  My research was on the verge of completion when that harpy ended my life with her absolute idiocy.  An irony to die while researching immortality, but no one can say that I don't have a sense of humor.  Didn't have a sense of humor, as I can hardly laugh in my current state.

The day will come. I'll be plunked from the death I could not avoid and live again. My hands may be larger and rougher than my delicate, white hands with which I was born.  My gait may be lumbering.  My speech may be impaired, but the ideas and the genius behind them will be immediately recognizable.  I will outreach even my new master in regards to fighting and beating death.  I will conquer death and with it, the world.

If I had a mouth, I would maniacally laugh right now.

   

Meh.

Life's complicated. Love is worse. Something that was once two people meeting and having a connection has turned into a series of auditions that make me more nervous than any play in which I have ever tried to get a part. As an improviser, I have the utmost faith in my ability to get on a stage and make stuff up in order to entertain people. But get me in front of a strange audience of one male or on the phone for more than 5 minutes with a male I have yet to meet and I turn into a mush-mouthed mental 12 year old.

You know you've been single too long when your best friend's mom is trying to set you up with guys. My very best friend, Jen, knew a guy when she was 12 years old who still lives around town and works at a restaurant where her mom, Corinne, frequently dines. She loves this man. So much so that when he complained that he was just looking for a nice girl to settle down with, a light bulb went off over her head and she thought, "Lauren!" A slightly convoluted meet cute occurred. Corinne got Jen to send her a photo of me, he saw it, liked it, gave his number to Corinne, who gave it to Jen, who texted him my number after asking me permission to do so. See? Convoluted.

He called me last night while I was in my writer's meeting, and left a nervous sounding voicemail. I called back, and in the midst of leaving a message actually said, "I'm sorry I missed your call. I was presenting at a writer's meeting at the library...yeah, fun stuff. Anyway!!" Doh. I received another vm today, while at work, telling me he had to be at work at 5, which is when I get out of work. Not looking too good on the communication side, but Jen vouches for the guy and one date won't hurt. We keep missing each other on the old phone, but I'll keep trying. You never know who you're going to meet and why. This guy may be my new best friend. Who knows? Not me.

I do know I'm starting to get tired of this area. Not only because the available men have the mental acuity of a pre-teen. There is just too much history here and too many connections with people whom I would rather never see again. I've been seriously thinking about moving to L.A. in November, riding the waves of the Comic Convention season out there and just seeing where Bailee and I can go with our web comic and our general comedy shenanigans. I feel as if she and I are destined to do something bigger together...maybe I'm just re-directing the general need for a soul mate to one of a creative partner and kindred spirit. All I know is that she makes me feel like I am funny and it's been a long time since I felt that. I have things that I need to do before then, like produce another Jiggles and Giggles. But it's about time to actually start that "living like there's no tomorrow" thing that all the country singers like to sing about.

It's time for a change. I've already changed myself enough...now I just need to change the world.

PMS Adventures

My friend Bailee and I have been working on this project for two years, and when she connected with an all female comedy website called Comediva, she pitched our baby to the editor, Linda, an amazing lady who saw the potential for our collective work.

Thus, the New Adventures of PMS was launched on March 28th, running for 5 days at the end of the month (just like your period, folks!)

Read it, comment, and hopefully, enjoy it. Also, follow Bailee in her escapades out in LaLa land at her blog, Nerdventure.