Nutbag.

I realize that there is a reason that I am single. I was contemplating this last night as I sat in my level 2 stand up class and began crafting a joke about a ring I recently purchased. It's a plain silver band with a round pink stone gently nestled under four metal prongs. It's a rose quartz, and I'll explain why this has anything to do with matters of the heart in a moment. But first, the events that occurred prior to and after my purchasing this ring.

I was home alone as my parents were visiting my grandmother in Ohio prior to the Christmas holidays. I was working a lot, and was spending my off time in my pajamas, laying on a couch and watching BBC television shows on Netflix. I was low. Lower than I'd been in a while. I was basically eating(too much) and drinking (too much), and was wallowing in self pity from being so overwhelmingly alone. No one called. No one cared. So, there I was. Miserable.

A friend called on a Sunday morning and asked me to join her and her husband for breakfast at my favorite restaurant. I decided to snap myself out of this self imposed exile and go. I dressed for the day in a cute sundress with ballet flats, blew out my shoulder length hair, and applied lip gloss to my somewhat overworked (from chewing) mouth. I felt good for the first time in weeks.

Something happened at that lunch. I decided that while I was out, I would go to the local green market and get some healthy foods to stop the constant intake of cheese, crackers, and alcohol. I still felt lonely, and the evidence of families shopping for dinner ingredients, couples canoodling of cannoli's, and old sad looking ladies with their dogs made me want to do more for myself. I deserved it. I'd been through depression, people! A jewelry vendor caught my eye. I walked over, and the lady behind the table told me that they could customize pieces while I waited.

Looking over their massive array of natural, polished stones, I noted that they had several rose quartz pieces. As a teenager, I became fascinated with the idea that certain stones represent certain things, and can create a certain energy if you wear them upon your person. Thirteen year old me started collecting rose quartz, which was supposed to draw love to the owner. During this period of my life, I also wrote intolerable sappy poetry. Here's a sample.

As I look into the sunken eyes
Of the one I hold so dear
I suddenly find sweet release
From unrelinquished tears
His sweet smile, but a shadow
On his work and haggard face
He looks at me with love so strong
And lets out a sigh
And with a weak squeeze of my hand
My love, he says goodbye.

Yeah. Melodramatic, much? Granted I had just lost both of my grandfathers to cancer, but still. A little odd.

So, back to adult Lauren, who is standing at this booth. Single. Still dramatic. Still wanting romance and love to come into her life. Waiting for an epic something to come around.

So, adult Lauren bought a ring. With a stone intended to attract love to her. And she's wearing it, now, as she types this blog. It's on the middle finger of her left hand, the side that is closest to the heart.

Shortly after her purchase, she also got her shoulder length hair caught in her lip gloss. And immediately went to the salon to chop it all off.

Adult Lauren has problems. And I guess admitting it, on a blog, for all the world to see, is a step towards dealing with those problems.

Til next time. I'm off to go and get some lavender and sage to smudge myself. Get rid of the bad juju to open myself up for a new start. And maybe I'll start working on this personality (which may be the real reason I am single to this day.)

Waka waka.

Love is a funny word.

I say it to my family. I say it to some friends. I say it to my dog. I say it about my favorite restaurant. I don't say it to myself.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who has this problem.

As a single lady with a lot of interests, I find myself more and more spread thin in terms of time. I say yes to everything whether it be a part in a play, or an errand for work.

This morning I put on a pretty dress, did my hair and make-up, and slipped on some rocking purple high heels. I looked down at myself and felt happy that I had so lovingly chosen an ensemble that made me feel pretty. Then my eyeballs locked onto my toes. With little time for pedicures, the red polish was chipped on both exposed toes, and I decided to remove it and go fresh footed into my work day. But as I removed the layers of lacquer, I noticed that my nails looked like my dad's. Cracked, bruised, damaged, and gnarly, my tootsies looked a little like how I have felt lately. There's no specific reason except that it's the holidays and the single jokes increase in frequency and dig just a little bit deeper at this time of year. Friends and family are moving onward and upward and though I'm ecstatic for them I am bogged down by the fact that I am standing still.

PMS is on hold. My improv career is on hold. My stand up career has yet to begin. My singing career is non-existent, barring a performance scheduled for January. The highlight of my acting career this month is playing a talking sheep in a nativity scene at a church. I feel lost, and I don't like it.

This morning I googled "Nicest Small Towns in America." I started looking for jobs in Black Mountain, NC and Hanover, NH. I'm desperate for a change. A change in job, a change in locale, a change in anything that will take this nagging feeling of panic and pending doom away for just a little bit. I know it's probably a change in me that needs to happen. I've had it pointed out to me ad nauseum.

For now, I'll cover it up with a smile like I covered up my nasty toes with a quick layer of purple potion nail polish. It's a temporary fix, and I know there's more work to be done on both myself and my cuticles. After this weekend, I'll put the effort in and maybe see a change before the birthday of some guy who did something to save some people. Here's hoping.

Bucket of chicken...I mean, bucket list.

A friend of mine recently posted a blog listing all of the items on her bucket list. I was blessed to be with her when she almost died on a flying trapeze (Item #46 on her list.) And it got me to thinking about my own personal bucket list, which is currently non-existent. The lack of a list is strange, as I have always been acutely aware of the fragility of life, having lost several dear family members while at a young age. I've never thought about what I want to do before I die, but have focused mainly on what I have done already should I kick it tomorrow. Here's that list. Let me note that I am in no way trying to brag and make everyone jealous that I am super awesome and cool. BUT I am trying to brag and make everyone jealous that I am super awesome and cool.

I was born.

In three separate instances, broke my nose, arm and paper cut my eyeball.

Have visited almost all 50 states. Still on the list-Wisconsin, Idaho, Hawaii and Alaska. Have traveled to Europe and British Columbia, and Canada, visiting these European countries: Denmark, Germany, Belgium, Austria, The Netherlands, Norway, Sweden, Finland, Czech Republic.

Seen and done these things: The Little Mermaid Statue, Berlin Wall, St. Charles Bridge, Bergen Belsen, Mozart's Birthplace, Anne Frank House, Praha Opera House (saw Rigoletto), British Columbian Rain Forests, Bungee Jumping, Flew a Cessna, White water rafting on 6 different rivers, hiking in 12 states and 3 countries, parasailing, rollerblading at a Vans Skate Park, went camping at the Red River Gorge, Rock Climbed in North Carolina, did a back country trip for 5 days in the woods, flew on a trapeze and performed a catch.

Performed in:
Deadlock (ha)

Oklahoma!

Fools

Guys and Dolls

Steel Magnolias

Roads (175 shows) Baby with the Bathwater

Naomi in the Living Room

StoryBox

Standprov

Page to Stage

3 years of Shadowbox Shows

A Christmas Carol (2 years)

2 years in a row Rock and Roll Karaoke Semi-finals

Vanities

3 years of Jove Shows

Beauty and the Beast, Really

I'm with Stupid

Performed with-Michael Winslow and Garrett Morris, met Bruce Campbell.
Duffy’s commercial
Labor Finders Video

Wrote a Comic book

Lost 35 pounds

Gained 35 pounds :)

Been on Burn Notice 3 times.

Went to ComicCon

Was interviewed on a podcast.

Met Christopher Moore. Sent him my web comic. Met Jim Butcher.

Published an online comic.

Met Jenna Busch.

Spoke on a panel at a comic book convention.

Took 2 Stand up Classes. Performed my first routine.

Wrote and Produced 4 shows on my own and donated over $3,000 to Gilda’s Club.

So. This is my "have done" list. The bucket list is pending, as I explore further in life what I want to do, be, do, be, do. I'll put the first thing on my list, which will actually be happening in February.

1. Visit New York.

I booked my flight today. JetBlue was having a sale. So, I'll be going in February to see my lovely friend, Tiffany, and to sight see. I may even get up the nerve to move there. We'll see. I only said, "visit" on the list. That may change.

What's on your list?

Tryp(tophan) to the dark side.

My mind is fried as I sit at my desk at work and type this after one hour of sleep. I'm feeling achy muscles in places I haven't for a long time. My eyes are red, with dark black smudges underneath them. Not mascara, but plain ole exhaustion. It was my first Black Friday experience, and it might very well be my last.

Due to excessive brain drain from waking at 8:30AM on Thursday, cooking Thanksgiving dinner for the family, visiting with friends and eating cheese, and Scattergories prior to the main event which lasted from midnight til 6:30 this morning, I will make a list highlighting the best parts of the entire Thanksgiving Day.

1. Waking up in anticipation of the Thanksgiving feast I was about to prepare and learning the turkey was frozen. Solid. A long bath in cool water whilst I watched the Thanksgiving parade remedied this problem, and the meal was a success...if garlic-tastic.

2. Watching the Thanksgiving Parade and mocking the lip syncing, then laughing out loud when poor Scotty Mc-whatever from American Idol missed his cue to start singing for a good minute.

3. Pie for lunch.

4. Phone call between mom, grandma and me to discuss pre-basting or roasting for an hour prior to a baste. Mom bastes. Grandma uses a bag. I wanted to baste per Betty Crocker's directions, but conceded to Mom.

5. Missed my brother and Amanda, but had a great meal with Mom, Pop, Brooke, and Nick who were super lame and "mistakenly" wore matching shirts.

6. Attempting a nap after two glasses of champagne.

7. Driving to Emily and Stephen P's house for cheese, potatoes and nerd talk. Meeting a new friend and hanging with Jess and her pups.

8. Getting to Tiffany's house, eating a strawberry rhubarb parfait, giggling like idiots in her room as if we were teenagers, and the most ridiculous game of Scattergories I've ever played.

9. Blaring Adele as we drove to Target where there was a LINE AROUND THE BUILDING. Subsequently, sitting in car listening to Jessie J. and having a dance party.

10. Entering the melee that was Target and NOT BUYING ANYTHING as the lines went from the back of the store, around to the front, and in between all the makeup aisles. Instead, we picked out movies we would buy for each other (I wanted to get her Big Trouble in Little China as she has NEVER SEEN IT. I honestly don't remember what she wanted to get me as that part of my brain has died.) We ask each other board game questions from the back of boxes as people dash to grab Apples to Apples for $10. We then grabbed a mop and broom and danced in the aisles to the amusement of the shoppers in line. Headed for the accessory area and played characters with different pairs of sunglasses, hats, and scarves.

11. STARBUCKS IS OPEN at 1:30am. We majorly goof off and sing our orders. They laugh. Attempt a faux hawk while sipping a latte.

12. Walk to Kohl's in high spirits. Spend 2 hours there and I learned how to accessorize from the master.

13. Mess with the cashier at Kohl's, and create a theme song for her name.

14. Walk back to Target, at this point completely exhausted and paranoid that we're gonna get mugged.

11. Just checking to see if you're paying attention. That's the WRONG NUMBER.

15. This is the right number. Drop purchases at car, move it closer and GO BACK IN TARGET. We try on clothes. We pick out makeup. We buy things.

16. It's 5am now. Decide to skip Urban Outfitters and go to IHOP. Enter the restaurant, and there is a line. No one will seat us. I noticed lights on at a hole in the wall restaurant on the way to IHOP. Tiff calls them on her 4G iPhone. They're open. We loudly announce to the other waiting parties that Debra's is open and that we're going there. They follow us out.

17. We park our butts on somewhat twirly stools at the chipped counter in Debra's. There is no Debra. But there is a Donna, who is the owner and slings breakfast food with an efficiency and culinary attention that borders on terrifying. Myra, our waitress, has a deep smokers cough that throws me off for a moment. Two cups of weak coffee, eggs perfectly over medium, grits, bacon and toast do it for me. Tiff gets an omelet and hot tea. We contemplate a somewhat famous Peach Cobbler, but Myra is quick with the bill and we head out.

18. Get gas and head for Tiff's house. The morning sun is starting to peek from behind dark clouds. We are zombies, but we hug and gush about the fun we had being ridiculous people during the most ridiculous day of the year.

19. I head home, meet Dad heading out to the links, stumble upstairs and hear the Muppet Theme song an hour later.

20. Brains......

It was fun, but I don't believe I will ever, ever do it again. I'm too old for this crap. My legs hurt. My feet hurt. But, in the end, I guess it's good that my pocketbook doesn't hurt. And I got to spend time with a dear friend who I don't get to see often as she is fabulous and lives in NYC.

I'm thankful for the fact that I am free to make the decision to go and do something that completely silly. I am thankful for friends who see the real me and love me regardless. I'm thankful for a family of jerks who love razzing each other. I'm thankful, for the most part, that I am alive today and able to laugh with all of these nuts. It's precious, this thing called life. Embrace it.

A Bad Mood Spoiled.

Tonight, I was stuck in traffic after a pretty stressful day at work, dressed like a nerd, and running late for an event that I had been asked to attend. I was supposed to get there early, and with bumper to bumper I was panicking and wishing I had left work even earlier that day to make it in time.  I was directed to park down the street from the facility, as the event had already started.  I felt conspicuous in the costume, with large glasses perched on my face, a wool sweater in the balmy Florida air, a bright yellow shirt dress(2 sizes too big, but purchased at Goodwill and worked for the role) and brown Mary Janes with white socks.The ladies passing me were all beautifully dressed for an evening of support and cocktails as we all headed towards the Raising the Roof on Breast Cancer in Women of Color at Gilda's Club, where my mind was blown and my heart was moved.

I entered the large red double doors with cartoon Gilda's on the windows and froze, unsure of what to do.  A kind lady with a name tag directed me to sign in. "I'm supposed to meet Elizabeth...I'm Lauren...I'm playing Emily Litella. I'm doing...something...tonight." The receptionist spotted Elizabeth's arm down the hallway, and I made my way through a gorgeous living room towards her. Elizabeth is a force. She's bubbly and beautiful and immediately grabbed my hand, introduced me to Tamara G., radio host extraordinaire and the evenings emcee, then took us on a whirlwind tour of Gilda's Club. There's a yoga room where patients can relax and also take watercolor classes.  The basement houses toys, books, games, and amazing works of art on the walls where children coping with loss or younger cancer patients come and play. This led to a teen room, with inspirational art work, a giant television, and Guitar Hero set in a hip, lounge type room.

Tamara and I started asking questions about what they do at Gilda's. Elizabeth was quick with an anecdote about a man who fell in a hole. He asked a doctor walking by to help him out.  The doctor wrote some prescriptions, tossed them in the hole and went on his way.  A spiritual adviser walked by, and the man asked him for help in getting out of the hole.  The adviser tossed in a book of prayers and was on his way.  Then the man's friend walked by, and before he could even ask, the friend jumped into the hole with him. "Why did you do that?  We'll never get out!" the man said, furious. The friend looked at him and grabbed his hand.  "I did it because I've been down here before, and I know the way out."  This is the philosophy of Gilda's Club.

After sharing some personal stories about how cancer has effected us all, I was taken back to the front reception area to prepare a short script (about Raising the POOP) for the Emily bit. At 6:45, Elizabeth started the speeches off with an intro...of me. Honestly, I have no idea if my portrayal of Emily was good at all, but it was over in about 20 seconds, and Elizabeth was there with the whole," Ms. Litella, it's Raising the Roof." "Oh...that's different.  Never Mind."

The next woman to speak was the Director of Gilda's, thanking everyone for being there. One woman was introduced (I forget her name at this moment, but I was in a state of overwhelm as she spoke), who had been through treatment for breast cancer and encouraged every woman there to get checked, and to make themselves and their health a priority.  Then another woman prodded everyone to dig in their goody bags and bring out a little hand mirror. Everyone made a pledge to themselves to schedule a mammogram tomorrow. They then took it a step further, and told each of us to reach out to someone we did not know.  A beautiful woman with glasses and close cropped hair pointed at me and said, "You!"  We hooked pinkies and pledged to get ourselves checked. Tears came to my eyes as this stranger grabbed me into the biggest and best hug I've had in a long time. I'm crying now, to be honest. She told another woman about us pinky swearing, and she came up and hooked pinkies and just looked into my eyes with a bright smile on her face.

The rest of the evening was amazing. Music started and everyone was mingling.  I started awkwardly dancing to the music, and a group of ladies just started belly laughing at me and telling me I needed to stop.  I met Julia Bagg, a reporter from NBC Miami who was covering the event, and we had a really fun conversation about being young professional women. I walked into a room and my pinky pals were there, sitting alone on a couch, looking at photos on a camera. "It's my pinky pals!" I yelled, grabbing them. They laughed at me, and then I awkwardly posed for a photo in an Emily Litella manner.

The whole night was amazing, inspiring, and made me want to do anything to help fund this amazing non-profit. The support of the entire staff and the amazing women who attended this event made it a magical evening that opened my eyes to a lot of things.  If you have money, or skills, or time, or anything, you should give it to this worthy organization.

SO. Who's ready for another Jiggles and Giggles?  HMMM?  Anyone?!?!?

What the heck were you doing in Los Angeles? And why are you so weird?

To those who don't follow the many exploits of  Lauren, here is an update on the weirdness that is my life and the reason for my recent trip to Los Angeles. 

In October of 2009, I decided to write a web comic about periods. I was blessed to partner with the amazingly talented and magnificently coiffed Bailee DesRocher, who met a lady named Regina Carpinelli.  Regina was starting her own convention in Los Angeles, that she called Comikaze Expo. We started e-mailing her and she became a fan of PMS Adventures, and asked us to be at her show. We sent her bio goodness and geeky headshots and were added to her list. I then met Regina when I visited LA in July, when she told Bailee and I that there was a viewing of Evil Dead II at the Hollywood Forever cemetery.  It was fate.

The last couple of months since that epic meeting, Regina and I have become friends.  We have our own little nerd chats on facebook into the wee hours of the morning.  She asked if I wanted to help her sell tables for her show.  I did.  She asked if I could edit some text.  I did.  She asked for help designing a schedule. I did. She offered us a table.  We accepted.

And then the day came for me to fly to LA for this convention.  Stan Lee, Elvira, Mark Hamill, Ernest Borgnine-they were all going to be there and I WAS GOING TO MEET THEM ALL. Huzzah!!

I didn't. But what I did do was set up a table in Artist's Alley with my dear friend and work partner, Bailee, where we chatted with person after person about our comic. Young and old, male and female, pre-menstrual and pre-menopause, and realized that the work we are doing spreads across a wider demographic than we anticipated. We saw families of nerds wandering around, huge bags bulging with geek gear and goofy grins on their faces.  We sold gag chocolate bars, gave away business cards, and were basically drained by the end of day one. We went to bed at 9pm that night, to prepare for day two of selling, and of panels!

Comikaze was set up in a way that you could be wandering around, shopping and pass little curtained off areas where the panels were taking place.  At 1 pm in Room Four, we were to join 4 other funny nerd ladies in a panel about being girls and being geeks.  I had renamed our panel (as I was putting together the schedule) to "Ta-Ta's and Trivia", as Bailee and Katie Willert of Cracked.com thought it would be fun to ask the audience silly questions at the end of the panel and give them PMS swag as prizes.  None of  us were prepared for the panel...or the shenanigans that were about to ensue.

We entered Room 4, and all began chatting with the moderator, a lady named Lydia Popovich, writer of the blog Hater Tuesday.  There was some confusion, as Lady Deadpool had been slated to moderate, but she was invited to sit in on the panel. This would prove to make this, my first ever panel at a Comic Book convention, very weird.

The ladies of the panel all took seats to begin the panel. Bailee and I were separated, which ended up being fine.  I was in between Lisa Foiles of All That and Kotaku.com and Emily Gordon of Indoor Kids and Nerdist.  And it was nuts. I've already status updated about the period comment (thanks, Regina!!) But it was so much fun to actually NERD OUT with a bunch of ladies...once we took the mic away from Lady Deadpool. She was way overexcited. And that was fine. Lisa had to run early in the panel to go and meet Elvira (harrumph), but the other 3 ladies, myself, and our moderator ended up having a great time.  We talked about nerdy sexy time experiences, what it was like growing up as nerdy girls, and all the things we love that are geeky. I couldn't think of a better group of ladies to chat with in front of 60+people.  And NO ONE WALKED OUT!  Beautiful.  We asked silly questions and handed out PMS Chocolate Bars.  One gentleman was passing Bailee and I later in the day, and I thanked him for an insightful question he asked to get us on a track that wasn't about our boobs. He and I then ended up talking about our mutual love of Bruce Campbell for 15 minutes.

Bailee and I will probably never have another table at a convention again (unless we make a zillion dollars and have peons to work for us.) But I had a blast.  I met Gonzo, the Muppet. I got 3 autographed books from Christopher Hastings, the author of my favorite web comic, Dr. McNinja.  I met the artist for Deadpool Corps and got a special present for every geek in my family (except Dad. But he doesn't actually like things. I'll just watch a couple of Doctor Who episodes with him and let him do his Dalek impression.  Makes him giggle every time!)

I can't wait for the next convention when I can just wander around, spend too much money, and not have to be tied to a table all day!  UNTIL NEXT TIME!

Everybody hurts...

After my show on Saturday, I was sore for 4 days.  I had dark, black bruises on both knees, and a skinned left foot from getting too into the moment and not protecting my body from prat falls. I'm used to this. I put everything I have into these shows, as I know that in the end it's my baby, and I'll be responsible should the show fail to entertain.   I was joking about this with a friend of mine, and she said something that made me stop and think about myself and who I am (which is never something I want to do.)

That's just gross.

She said, "I worry about you. You're too willing to hurt yourself...not just for comedy...for men, for friends, for strangers...you put your well-being and happiness second to too many things."

Mind officially blown.  I had never thought about that.  And yet, with that short facebook statement (yes, we were on facebook and having this in-depth conversation) she opened my eyes to what really makes me tick.  I've been through some weird times and done things I probably shouldn't have for the benefit of other people or to prove something about myself that didn't need to be proven.  And that needs to stop.

The last few days I've worn my war wounds with pride and shown them off to anyone who has asked me how the show went. "Look," I'm saying. "Look at how COMMITTED I am.  I'm so crazy when I get on stage I can barely walk. Funny, right?"

I guess not. There's something in what my friend said.  Maybe I am too willing to extend myself.  Maybe I do need to protect myself more, and value an unskinned knee and the ability to wear skirts over showing everyone that I am willing to do anything to make people laugh.  And maybe that will happen.

Or maybe I'm gonna face plant to make a drunken bachelorette party giggle.  We'll see how Saturday goes.