America pulls through for my entertainment!

FINALLY, Brooke is kicked off American Idol. When they said Jason was safe, I must admit I was worried for a minute that one of my Davids was going home by some horrible fluke vote. It's always at that moment each week that I think, "Why didn't I vote?" [On a side note, my sister was appalled to learn that I don't vote. To quote her: "What's the point if you aren't giving back?"]

I'm not into Brooke. I know people love her, but she's annoying and fake. She has a great smile but uses it incorrectly. And that's my take.

Meanwhile, as I type I'm watching The Real World, which is once again hilarious. The girl with all the issues is about to hook up with a taller, thinner version of Ron Jeremy, who is wearing a zip-up hoodie unzipped halfway with no shirt underneath. As Beachlover would say, "Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiice."

Talking Heads

You know what's funny? Bobbleheads (especially of Dwight K. Schrutte). You know what's not funny? Life-size head cut-outs pasted on tongue depressors. Yes, my friends here in The Big Island have created a life-size photo cut-out of our fearless leader, one of the men who started this organization in 1979. Today is his last day; he is retiring. Apparently the best send-off people could think of here in my absence was that we have to hold up these popsicle stick heads while singing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow" when he arrived at work today. Just when you thought they couldn't get weirder...

Aunt x 2

TWB has once again done a stellar job at making my life easier and more fun. She gave birth to a perfect little baby girl yesterday, Emily Grace Eckel... 6 lbs. 8 oz. and 19.5 inches long. She has a little bit of hair but not nearly as much as Libby did! Meredith looked great and said it was incredibly easy. Maybe I won't chicken out of having babies, after all. They'll probably come home from the hospital tomorrow, but I have to go back to the Burg today to be back at work tomorrow. Gotta solve the Arkansas/Mississippi HOH crisis this week!

The hospital experience was a little bizarre. There was definitely a man (a respiratory therapist, to be exact) singing Barry White songs on a microphone in the cafeteria. My poor brother was hungover and I think it scarred him for life. I, not hungover, might be scarred as well. Don't worry, I took a video. If he's not embarrassed to be karaoke-ing on his lunch break, why should I be embarrassed to tape it?

Getting ready to head to brunch and then the hospital. I could live like this every day!

The fabulous art of relaxation

I'm in my pajamas, and it's 9:40 on Saturday night. It's quite blissful really. Last night I was a little too supportive of the "let's take a shot!" moments, and all day I've felt a little crappy. This afternoon, my sister called and convinced me that I may as well come on to Richmond, since Baby E is due any day (any minute, really).

So here I am at TWB's house. Libby has been a little angel tonight, cuddling with me and wanting to read everything in sight (that's my girl!). She's so smart for a 2 year old... and we all know she's a looker, since she takes after me. Being an aunt is just so fun! I did have to endure some pretty loud songs of the "wee sing" genre, but other than that, it has been fabulous. My mom's coming up tomorrow, and who knows... maybe it will be baby day!

Best line ever

I was absolutely thrilled when I turned on my tv this morning. By sheer luck, I turned it on at the exact moment the Real World marathon started (and by marathon, I mean two episodes, since this season just started). I haven't watched it at all, and I have been hoping to catch it. Not only that, but I am hungover, hot, and hungry, and there's nothing I'd rather be doing than laying on my couch watching this show and eating leftovers. Well, nothing else except going on a boat ride, as I discussed with Jordan* earlier. But I digress. The point is, this season of Real World is proving itself to be perfect for fulfilling my tv trash quotient. Best line ever, brought to you courtesy of The Alcoholic Jock: "You guys are just like my sisters... that I want to have sex with."

*Are you reading my blog yet, fool?

My own 'weekend update'

I'm pretty much out of fresh blog ideas today (arguably a condition I've been in all week). This evidence supports Erin and Katie's theory that going to Northern VA fuels my brain, so I better plan another trip soon!

Last night started the weekend off with a... fizzle. We enjoyed some beers on the deck at Neighbors, and I also discovered a delightful concoction called a bikinitini. You know we enjoy our friends' company when D'Lynn and I opt to go out with them instead of watching "Grey's Anatomy" AND "Lost" (gasp)! Tonight we're heading out on the dance floor (that's right, the singular dance floor in the Burg). Hopefully it will result in some good blog fodder, but it will be nothing compared to Ned D's!

The weekend will culminate in a trip to Richmond Sunday for the birth of my sister's baby, which will be Monday at the latest due to modern medical technology. Woohoo! I cannot WAIT to be an aunt again!

There's my diary. Sorry I had nothing better to blog about. As Megan just said, "I can't believe you have no good stories today. We're at work in our pajamas." But, alas, none of the related stories we've heard today (mostly involving the term "tighty whities") are pleasant enough to re-tell. [Shudder.] Peace out.

Girl, I want to make you sweat (a la la la la long...)

Remember that horrible song, circa 8th grade? In fact, I know it was 8th grade, because we did a class project for which my group invented a radio remote control for the back seat of cars, and that was the song we kept changing it to against our parents' wishes. Who would have ever thought of such a device? Oh wait, every car manufacturer on the planet. The real question is, who would want to listen to that song?

I digress. This blog is actually not about the retardedness of that song but about my desire to sweat. You know I hate sweating, so this is probably a surprise. In the last 24 hours, I decided I want to take a fun trip... something involving sun, sand, and bars within walking distance to sleeping places. My roommate suggested a cruise, but I am open to many options. I want to go in June, since I might not have a job by then, and I can go anytime except June 19-22. Any length of time from 3-7 nights depending on who is going. Anyone else up for it? I'm thinking anywhere from plain old Myrtle Beach to exotic Cozumel, as long as it is somewhat low-cost and full of pina coladas, dancing, and water (submerging in it, not drinking it). Maybe a girls' trip? I am SO ready for this... it's been too long! Also looking for suggestions of places/cruise lines/resorts/etc. Email me.

Quick, somebody get me pregnant!

(Sometimes I just like to make people spew their coffee when they check my blog. I am, of course, just kidding.)

I have the best baby naming idea ever. I'm going to start a new trend in which all traditional family names and consideration for the child's future feelings and personality are thrown out the window.

Why do we name our kids after long lost relatives who we have never even met? Why not name them after someone much more influential in our daily lives, such as, say, "Tina Fey Holcomb" or "David Archuleta Holcomb." Our elderly relatives (the ones who get tickled pink to have their great-grandchildren be their "juniors" or "thirds") will have no idea who these modern day heroes are, so they will think they're random names and will not be offended. Of course, it would suck if the trend didn't catch on and you were the only one in your 3rd grade class named "Flo Rida Holcomb." Hmm.

What do we think... suggest this to my 9 months prego sister, or might she hurt me?

I am not friends with these people!

Ok, I have realized recently that I am gradually sliding over to the Facebook camp from MySpace. I used to hate FB and love MS. (*Note that whenever I abbreviate it is because I am lazy, not using geeky slang. Note that I also realize the irony of typing two sentences to explain being too lazy to type out two words.)

Anyway, now I can't stop checking FB. The thing is, with MySpace you never really miss anything. You can sign in after a week and see everything the whole world has posted on your bulletin board, and unless you are a total stalker and need to know every comment that is exchanged between your friends, there is no recon necessary. With Facebook, the newsfeed - which I originally hated and in some ways still do - is undeniably addicting, and this is because it disappears as new items are posted. So if you don't sign on one day, you can miss the fact that your roommate signed up for the "My roommate's an emotional mess" group and thus not know you need to put pretzel crumbs all over her bed (hypothetical example, people).

But FB has GOT to get rid of this "people you might know" sidebar. At first glance, I thought that was awesome. Hell yeah, I know Tracy Roski! But then I was like, what the hell, I know who Felicia Fleming is and have no problem with her, but I don't really know her and do not need to be FB friends with her; yet every time I sign on now it tells me I am supposed to be. And who is this Meara Swathminakaralatchahada person? Ask me once. I can handle even handle twice. Ask me 23525807 times, and I'm starting to actually have an aversion to Miss Swathimathi, even though I have no idea who she is. FB stop being so greedy and be satisfied with me becoming friends with a girl I haven't hung out with since preschool. For real!!

P.S. I am adding to this blog a horrific follow-up: it is now suggesting a frat-party maker-outer. haha! yeah right I'm adding him, it was bad enough seeing him in the dining hall for the next 3 years!

R U Kidding?

My mom and stepdad added text messaging to their cell phone plan this weekend. Both of them texted me yesterday afternoon. I'm not sure I can handle this. As Carol B. would say, "There are no words." (you're welcome, D'Lynn)

Spirit Week @ Work

Tomorrow marks the beginning of me-declared Spirit Week at the Society of St. Andrew. The reason for this is simple: our spirits are about to roam happy and free, as all 5 of the boss figures here are heading to a big conference in Texas for the rest of the week. So the rest of us are home-free, and I'm determined to have some Spirit Week activities. However, the only one I can think of that would be fun is Pajama Day. Do you remember any other ones? I'm not really thinking a three-legged race with our 72 year old gleaning lady would be appropriate.

I have been extremely well behaved (for the last 24 hours).

I go from one extreme to another. Friday night I was perhaps just a little bit out of control again. However, I was ultimately topped by the disgusting antics of my roommate's not-so-secret admirer, culminating in him literally running away from the bar as we tried to call him a cab. (You know it's bad when the next day you get a text message saying, "Did you take me home last night?") Even I'm not that bad... nor will I ever be!

I did, however, get a little feisty, pick a fight with my roommate (thankfully after we were at a friend's house, not still in public), and turn on the waterworks again. I do not know what is up with me and drunk crying these days! But everything has since been resolved, and forgiveness has been granted on all sides.

One thing that seemed to surprise our Lynchburger friends as we headed out from the shenanigans in the wee hours of Saturday morning was that I was heading to Richmond later that day since I was the guest preacher at a church this morning. Now, I'm of the theory that leading a sermon while intoxicated is a horrible idea. I'd even go so far as to say leading one while hungover is not very inspired. But what I don't think is that preachers have to be perfect, and i don't think it's so bad for me to have been out Friday night, fully recovered Saturday, and ready to roll this morning. Of course my sermon wasn't about abstaining from alcohol... that would just be wrong (on so many levels).

But before you decide I'm a hypocrite for working for a Christian nonprofit - even standing in a pulpit all morning - ask yourself if perhaps this is not the crux of Christianity at its best: a person having a hard week, having a wee bit too much 'poison,' causing a bit of trouble on the homefront, playing a few rounds of Kings, sinnin' it up, and then praising God's redemptive spirit and grace on Sunday morning. I'm not saying I'm faultless; I'm saying the exact opposite. I'm not saying I behaved well this week; again, I'm saying the exact opposite. Tell yourself you need Grace, and you're on your way to a wonderful Sunday.

Last night was *poppin'*... apparently

Last night was ridiculous. Most of you dear readers have been around me when I was intoxicated and thus know that I go one of two ways: super super happy and fun or reclusive and teary. Well, last night someone must have ordered the combo platter.

Overall, the night was a lot of fun, despite some awkwardness with the dater-of-yore (yore being last week). Having to be around him reminded me why I like to hook up with people I will never see again. :) I had 4 glasses of wine before 8:00, before we even ended up at the party we were actually going to. I also called one friend and left her a message about her dog attacking me, which was blatantly made up; I have not even seen said dog in months, and he has never attacked me. Who knows what was going on in my happy little mind. I also definitely asked a lot of people inappropriate questions, told inappropriate stories, and laughed at other people's inappropriate jokes (because of course my jokes are always appropriate... in my head). I humored everyone from Megan's 50 year old hippie friend from Taos to the random guy whose butt I kept slapping and pretending it was the guy next to me who did it (one of my favorite things to do at bars the last few months). Hell, I even won a door prize. I'd call that a good night.

All of this culminated in me waking up around 4 a.m. with popcorn all up in my bed. Gotta say, that's a first.

The Good Ol' Days... er, Song

Yesterday I had a job interview in Richmond, and on my way home it was just too beautiful of a day to pass up stopping in Charlottesville. It was around 12:30, so first I stopped at Zazu's to get a fajita wrap (YUM). That place is so freaking good!

My original plan was to hang around for a bit, walk around the Corner and the Lawn and maybe even satiate my geeky desire to spend some time in one of my favorite libraries. However, once the time came, I was still in my suit, my heels were hurting, and I really just wanted to take a nap. My two options were obviously 1) curl up in my suit on the Rotunda steps to take a nap, chancing potential YouTube fame as a psycho, or 2) drive through Grounds instead and head on back to my actual bed. I chose the latter option.

Still, just driving around Cville made me nostalgic. It was perfect weather outside, and I envied the students and professors walking back and forth to class, reading by Brooks Hall, and eating outside at Corner restaurants. I looped around behind Old Cabell Hall and was amazed at all the construction going on back there on both sides of the road. So much changed... so much the same!

As I drove through, I realized (not for the first time that day, but for the most poignant of times) that it was the one year anniversary of the shootings at Virginia Tech. My time at UVa was in no way sheltered from tragedy or crime; I can think of many instances where "the real world" came bolting through with no respect at all for our attempt at living in a separate world. But it is still hard to imagine something as horrible as the April 16th shootings happening on a college campus, no doubt in one of those buildings that proves itself a second home to students - good for studying in the corners while waiting for a friend to finish class and walk home with you, eating lunch on a bench between classes, or even running in to use the bathroom on the way home from a frat party. I simply can't imagine having those "safe places" destroyed so quickly and violently. I was proud of my Wahoos walking around going to class yesterday... prouder even than usual, and nostalgic for the days when my bed was within walking distance and a friend's face was on every path.

Addiction

Pardon me while I sing some Kelly Clarkson to you.

It's like you're a drug

It's like you're a demon I can't face down

It's like I'm stuck

It's like I'm running from you all the time...

It's like I can't breathe

Without you inside of me

And I know I let you have all the power

And I realize I'm never gonna quit you over time

It's like I can't breathe

It's like I can't see anything

Nothing but you

I'm addicted to you

'Damn,' you're thinking. 'She really had it bad for this guy and now she's embarrassing herself about it on the www.'

Come on, my friends, come on. The addiction to which I am referring is strictly platonic - for now. I will now generously share it with you, because I like for you to experience wonderfulness along with me...

I tried my Lipton Green Tea "to go" packets today - the kind you pour into a water bottle and shake up for zesty goodness. They've been in my desk drawer for quite some time. Holy crapola! Despite its having zero calories and numerous antioxidants, this stuff is seriously lethal. I swear there is no physical way it had entered my bloodstream when I became 100% wired. And I can't stop drinking it! I'd say I'm all set for my trek to Richmond tonight!

BullFloppy!

I'm sorry, but what the hell is this FitFlop business? If you haven't seen it yet, there's a new flip flop designed by Victoria's Secret that is advertised as a great toner for your thighs, butt, calves, etc. The ad slogan for it is: *drum roll* "Burn calories just by walking around!"

First of all, you burn calories by walking around no matter what shoes you are wearing or not wearing.

Second of all, don't design a product with "Flop" in the name. Subliminal message for sales predictions, maybe?

Kiss my ass, Monday!

Saturday totally beat Monday out as The Suckiest Day of the Week, so today through Friday I figure I'm home free... even though I set my alarm for "pm" instead of "am" this morning. Nice try, but Saturday still wins!

The guy I've been dating apparently had his interest in me removed along with his appendix last week (true story). It's been a long time since I've been on this end of a break-up - if the way it worked out can even be called that - and I was not pleased with the feelings it evoked in me. However, Chrissy did manage to make me have some fun this weekend, which is, as I said in my last post, "what friends are for." It was my favorite temperature this weekend, making for some good outdoor meals and porch-sitting. I also decided to make a surprise present basket for my sister, brother-in-law, niece, and niece-on-the-way, and buying stuff for other people always makes me very happy. So there you go, government... I fell into the trap of spending the absurd "incentive" money before receiving it. Hope you're happy.

That's what friends are for

I'm having a bad day. Actually, I'm going to go ahead and say I'm having a bad weekend, even though it's only noon on Saturday. Suffice it to say that I'm not a big fan of men right now.

However, when shitty shit happens, you realize how great your friends are. Example #325234098:

Me: I'd love for you to come hang out, but I can't promise I'm going to be any fun.
Chrissy: I don't give a shit if you're going to be fun, dumbass.

Haha - my friends are great! Now if I could just stop falling for charming men. I actually thought this one was smart enough to appreciate me. (Wrong.) It might be an old fashioned UVa "straight tequila night."

Exsqueeze me?

I survived my babysitting job. Last night, I drove to Richmond and stayed with my stepsister so as to keep her two kids, ages 5 and 9, while she and her husband headed to Hawaii. Aside from huge travel issues resulting in us staying up way too late and me thinking for a minute I was going to be in the car with the kids 7 hours instead of the planned 3, everything went well. Everything, that is, except the 5 year old deciding to nickname me "The Old Lady." WTF? I even bought her a McFlurry, to no avail. What happened to good old fashioned bribery? I guess this passe idea just contributes to her theory that I am ancient. D'oh!

But who will be my aging mentors now?

You better sit down for this one.

Lifetime is getting rid of our beloved Golden Girls. The show is moving to either the Hallmark channel or WE, or maybe that's the same thing - I don't know. Do I even get that channel? I do not know. Sigh.

http://www.broadcastingcable.com/article/CA6544795.html

Anyone got some duct tape?

I'm in crisis mode regarding my sister's pregnancy. Have no fear; The Wise Blonde is doing fine. It's me you should be worried about. The baby is due May 1st, a mere 20 days from now. This is all well and good, and I'm especially excited since I was in Boston when Libby was born, so this will be my first time in the waiting room waiting for hours to hear the good news and meet my new niece.

Here is the problem: next Saturday, I'm scheduled to go stay with TWB in Richmond for the night while my brother-in-law goes to a college reunion. I have to preach in Powhatan for work the next day, which is the reason behind my trip... the timing just happens to work out nicely so that he can go to the reunion without leaving my sister alone, 9 months pregnant, and with a 2 year old.

Still don't see the problem? That is April 20th - baby countdown cut down to 10 days. Furthermore, TWB called me last night to say that SHE is freaking out because (to put it politely) the doc says her body is quite... um... "physically prepared" to have the baby, so it will likely come prior to May 1st.

Sigh. I'm never having children if I have to go into the delivery room!

My last blog ever (possibly)

I'm not quitting again. However, this might be my last blog ever, as I am writing it from great heights and I'm really not sure I'm going to survive the downclimb. 'Oh cool!' you're thinking. 'Lauren's jetted off to somewhere cool and has hiked a huge mountain and stopped to blog while surveying the wondrous creation of valleys surrounding her. Or maybe she's in a hot air balloon right now checking out the top of Jerry Falwell's buildings. Or, who knows, maybe she's still in flight but headed somewhere awesome, like London with her selfish friend Amanda who accidentally went there without her (ahem).'

Alas, I'm in the Burg. I'm in a coffee shop in my apartment community using their wireless, because the nimrods from whom I usually "borrow" my wireless connections on the rare occasions I turn on my home computer have apparently disbanded. Anyhow, I thought I would be tres cool and climb the narrow, winding stairs to the top level of this place. It's all fun and games until I head back down. I literally do not know how I'm going to do it. I'm torn between trying to finish my coffee before I leave so as to have one less variable in my juggling act, or not drinking it all to prohibit the possibility that I may need to go down there to the bathroom. Why do I get myself into these predicaments?

Je ne hablar pas nada poco Russian!

What? <-- Exactly. I do not speak Russian. Why do I keep getting spam in Russian languages? It's not like, "Ooh, maybe this is someone I know who now only speaks Russian!" or "I bet if I open this, it will explain the message in English, which I am just dying to know." I'm talking tens of Russian spam messages a day. Should I take up 101?

Sorry I didn't fall... maybe next time

Well, folks, I tried. I did many possibly retarded things this weekend, but none of them resulted in any amusing blog fodder. Finally, yesterday, I took an extreme step and went ice-skating. Nope, still nothing! I didn't fall even once. This was probably because it is pretty difficult to fall when you're holding on to the wall for half the time, but still. Sorry to let you down! I know a few of you especially appreciate the humor in a good fall. As do I. :) I had honestly expected at least one medical emergency by the end of the public skating session - which, by the way, was complete with Christian rock music, only once supplanted by Aladdin theme songs. Gotta love Liberty-land!

The only thing you would find humor in these days is my attempt at dating... but since that would be laughing AT me, not WITH me, I'll pass on posting about that until the smoke clears.

Great Ideas

So the other day someone said to me, "I really think you should try to have a job lined up before you move to Richmond." Gee, thanks for the idea! Never thought of that!

Seriously, though, I am not really stressing about finding a new job. It does make me a little nervous when The Today Show rants about how thousands of people are getting laid off during this possible recession, as they did today, but my security rests in two things: 1) I am pretty good at trusting God's will and believing that everything happens for a reason, and 2) I am pretty much willing to do anything for a paycheck, at least temporarily... at least, anything that does not involve feces removal, school buses, or taking off my clothes. Although now that I'm reading Chelsea Handler's book of smut, that last one might become a possibility.

I'll find a job I love. It may not be the first job I get when I move, or even the next one or two or ten after that, but I have loved my current job and my previous job and have faith that I will once again find meritable employment. That said, know any rich men on the woman hunt? Just kidding. My mind is currently occupied in that regard, too. :)

Gotta go... time to go out for an extended lunch hour since the bosses are out of town! Don't tell my future boss... unless you are him/her, in which case, can I take a long lunch?

Solving it all with one fell swoop

I've come up with the solution to the current fuel crisis, Americans' obesity, global warming, and traffic jams all with one idea. We need to revert to Flintstones'-style cars: powered by our own little feet. Think of the carpooling! No one could text while driving! We'd all have kick-ass legs! Well, except for me. I'd pay someone to pedal me.

I'm incredibly bored. I think I might do a myspace survey... I apologize in advance.

More than my blog is polka-dotted - gasp!

A month or two ago, I started getting these dry spots on my arms, and now they're appearing on my legs, too. I thought it was probably related to it being winter and thus dry skin weather, but today it was suggested to me that it might be due to a slight milk allergy. This is an interesting idea since I hate milk (always have) but have been forcing myself to drink it for the past 2 months since I am notoriously bad at taking my calcium-vitamin D pills and I don't want all my bones to break at the ripe old age of 35 or something. Has anyone else heard of this correlation? I tried to google around, but our internet at work is just so slow that by the time I get a conclusive answer, I will have full-blown osteoporosis.

No matter what the connection, it's definitely the glass of cereal-less milk I made myself drink this morning that is making my tummy hurt. :(

Friday, I see you coming but you are still too far away!

Getting out the red pen

Each year, my organization comes out with an Annual Report that sums up the year's work, finances, staff changes, etc. It's especially important for us as a nonprofit, because major donors use it to gauge how much they want to continue to give and if they think we're spending their money wisely.

My coworker who writes the AR freaks out around this time every year. Normally a very high-strung person, she is seriously off her rocker from February to April each year... and that is putting it nicely. She has GOT to be in control of every aspect of this production. I honestly bet that she can't sleep for thinking about this flippin report.

How does this relate to me? Well, she hates asking me for editing help, even though it is possibly the only thing I am actually qualified to do in this joint. However, when I happened to notice she had Jesus lying in a "manager" instead of a "manger" in our annual 10,000 print run fundraising Christmas card, she didn't complain... nor did she complain when, yesterday, I noticed on another big production invitation she spelled our state "Virignia." They're simple mistakes, not indicative of her not knowing how to spell something - just an example of why it's always important to get another set of eyes on documents.

Some higher-up just made her ask me to edit the AR, and I'm pretty sure it's the worst day of her life. I gave her a little bit of control back by not freaking out when she told me which pen to use (no, I'm not kidding). What can I say... I do what I can.

Hot Dentists = Not Cool

Certain professions should be restricted to unattractive people. I had a dentist appointment this morning, and my dentist was totally cute. The problem? No one looks attractive while saying "aah" and having water, plaque, and saliva spraying around in their mouth; not to mention that coming at me with a mini-ice pick is scarring for our future dates. New petition: ban hot dentists.

On a side note, I did no April Fool's jokes yesterday - nor was I the brunt of any - so '08 might just be a total waste. Maybe I'll move my April Fool's Day to May 1st.