Friday, March 20, 2009

Turning 25, the audasity of it all

Twenty five years ago today I was one week old. I assume in the 2 o'clock hour of March 20th, 1984, I was being held or laying in a crib of some sort, basically just feeling new and stuff. I also presume my presence probably really pissed my older brother off a bit, who at the time, was rounding out his second year. Oh Charles R., how I once held you in the hypothetical palm of my tiny little newborn hand.

25 years later, I've done some schooling, learned to read and write and count. I've saved a life here and there, quoted some movies, made some friends, told some truths and some lies, had a few laughs and a few cries - basically, I became an adult. And what better way to celebrate becoming an adult than with a party.

Okay, this is what I'm getting at, I had a freaking themed party - Sparkly Glasses & Fancy Mustaches; Lauren Christine is 25! - and the theme, well, it was sort of re-re.

But, I did want to thank my friends for being such good sports.

Rachel, you came super prepared, bringing glasses for everyone. That was awesome.
Dan, Mr. Gertrude, you grew a real stachey stache. What a man you are. A tip of my hat to you, sir.
Mandy, my ment, your face may have had a slight affliction against mustache glue, but you looked great.
Ms. Randle, way to be prepared. Way to look awesome in 17 laminated staches of different shapes and sizes.
Strawberry Tree, you play your guitar like a demon.
Lady Monahan, you rushed over after your show opener and lost your glasses in a cab and got drunk really fast, but you still looked great. Thanks for buying me that drink when I said, 'hey, it's my birthday. Go buy me a drink.'
Everyone else, you rock.

Love you all. In the future, I will try to think of better themes.

lcs

Friday, February 6, 2009

February = Summer (thoughts)

Well, hello there! It has been such a long while. Have you been waiting long? No? Good. Anywho, I have been spending a lot of time lately thinking about how much I despise cold weather, making my decision to stay and live in Chicago seem a bit...idiotic. But the witchcraft this lady (Chicago) possesses, called summer, makes you forget all the pain she has inflicted. You get so taken back by the beaches and riding of bikes and beer gardens, we all seem to forget about the other 9 months of the year the entire population of Chicago wants to die due to dry, itchy skin and the clanking of radiators. 

But my summers don't just consist of Chicago fun. I try to head back to my hometown, Kansas City, Mo., at least once. I was talking to one of my KC friends this morning and just got so excited. I started thinking about my favorite day of last summer - everyone has at least one perfect summer day each year - and I'm going to do my best to take you there after the break...

I awoke around 11:30 am with the soothing sound of central air kicking in above my ears. As I stretched out, feeling each of my toes move one at a time and reaching my arms above my head, I looked over at my best friend sleeping next to me. I had stayed the night at her parents house after the BBQ my father hosted for my friends and me. As I nudged her and requested water, I may have had one too many Boulevards the night before, a sudden thrill went through my body. As this was one of my last days in KC, I had been looking forward to the happenings of it the entire trip!

Lindsay and I jumped out of bed, drank some water and headed out to grab lunch at Chipotle - where else when you're on vacation in your hometown! Now this is an important part of the story - as we walked out of her parents beautiful new house and got into her car, the sun hit me in a way that gives you goose bumps. It is a feeling that doesn't happen very often, especially in the mild Chicago summers, but one that I wish I could get regularly - it's my drug of choice. We climbed into her awesome Honda Civic, rolled down the windows, cranked up the toons and headed to lunch feeling slightly less 24 and slightly more 16. It was nice. 

After lunch, Lindsay and I literally spent hours shopping for a t-shirt to match that evenings outing with the girls - that outing being A ROYALS GAME!!!!! Now, I'm from KC, not Boston or New York or even Chicago. I know Sox fans (Red & Black), and Yankee fans and Cubs fans - and I'm really not trying to compare Royals fans to them. The history of those century old teams is just simply incomparable to the 40-year-old history of mine. But I still Love them. What you need to understand about Royals fans is they don't really go to the ball park to watch their team win. There aren't legends of curses or goats or tales of musicals that have impeded our winning streak. We know why we don't have the record of the other teams - we frankly don't have the capital to support it in our city. But no one ever doubts we one day will. Which is probably the best way to describe a Royals fan - forever and unmistakeably hopeful. We go to games to watch some ball, drink some beer and converse with our friends. It is, by far, one of my favorite things to do on this planet with some of my favorite people on this planet. Mmmmm.

So, sorry about that rant, the point is that Lindsay and I spent quite some time going from store to store looking for Royals T-Shirts that were both cute and in our price range. We finally found them, along with a 36 pk of Miller Light, in the little boys section of Wal-Mart. Of course, Missouri.

My friends and I spent the first 7 innings of the game in the parking lot of The K talking, sharing stories and laughs over a few cold ones before we even made it in. After the game ended - and we won! woo hoo - we went to Quinn's little batcherolette pad in South KC for some fun. And it was fun. And silly. And amazing. And I think hot sauce was involved.



That was my favorite day of summer 2008. And now with Quinn and Adam engaged (Congrats!) I will be heading back to my hometown in mid July for what is sure to be another wonderful reunion with Royals games, BBQs, Wal-Marts and Weddings. I just can't wait.
 


Tuesday, January 6, 2009

New Years Resolution - Poo Pears and Pollution

I knew it couldn't last forever - 'it' being the 2-month bender I've been on since the 'LO.' Having fun, spending money, acting like I'm a college kid on perpetual Spring Break. But, with the addition of 14 inches to my waist and the depletion down to $14 in my wallet, I realized it was time to get real - real grown-up that is if I ever want to accomplish my life goals and not die of liver cirrhosis.

I was out to dinner with a dear friend of mine on Saturday. She shared her New Year's resolutions of getting into shape, being confident, finding a boyfriend, etc., and I realized I didn't set one, a resolution, for myself this year. While everyone has been talking as of lates, sharing their New Year's resolutions, I realized just how fucking stupid it all seems. It makes sense to want a fresh start, a cleansing, an annual baptism of sorts on the first day of each year - but none of my 'life goals' (MBA, Lotto Winner, Accomplished Writer) are easily accomplished within a calendar year.

So effing Eff you New Year's Resolutions. My life goals and waistline don't need you and I don't either. I hope you die while I give you this stink eye.




Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Shared emails the morning after being an idiot

This post is not profound or really even interesting. It is simply the emails which display the accounts of a Tuesday night in Chicago.

Subject: hi


Lauren XXX to Catherine XX
10:49 AM (1 hour ago)

what the fuck happened last night? why do i feel like i'm going to die? who paid? did you? what the fuck is going on? I obviously spent the night with my head in the toilet.



Reply
Catherine XX to Lauren XX
11:50 AM (12 minutes ago)


Oh man, are you ok? Basically, you didn't eat dinner and then drank a shitload of vodka. Then we did shots, and you did an extra one (whiskey?) while i was in the bathroom. These shots included a car bomb, which is awesome and smart and I'm glad we did that one especially.

Then we walked home and you fell. I tried to make you spend the night on our couch but you went home. And then I puked, so I imagine you puked like a mofo.

Oh, and we split the bill, so it was $33 each. Blarg. Awesome.

Go eat some Gino's or take a nap in the supply room or something.

Love you!! I know you feel like ass, but thanks for hanging out with me.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Annie Edson Taylor and the Feminine Mystique

It all started when I found myself sitting at the plastic covered kitchen table of a severely racist 80-year-old Indian psychic last Saturday. She was reading my taros and every other card kept telling her I was a “sad and lonely girl” because of the current state I am living in. That state is called single. The even cards were telling her that I have an ‘attitude’ problem and snubbed my nose at most men, never thinking they were good enough. She was very confused about this one, even getting angry at me because the cards told her I was stuck-up! She got so angry she pointed at my lady places and was like, ‘hey, what you think? Those are made of gold!?’ I’m not quite sure how she read I was sad or lonely or ill mannered or had gelded reproductive areas out of a picture on a card that, to me, looked like an ice skating joker juggling gold plates while trees grew out of his rear.

She kept repeating, in her heavy Indian accent, “You are a sad and lonely girl. Come on. Tell the truth.” As I shook my head back and forth so frequently I looked like I was auditioning for a shampoo commercial, I thought, “No, I’m really not unhappy or lonely. Almost never. Almost never ever!”

She didn’t believe me.

Sure, there are times that I want to hold hands with someone while walking down the street. There are nights I wakeup and wish I had someone to cuddle with. Sometimes I get drunk and want to make-out. But that does not make me lonely or unhappy, does it?

I have friends. I have loads of friends and a very active social calendar. I love running and reading to children and going to cocktail parties that benefit cancer/aids/etc. research. I like reading about obscure topics just so I can bring it up at dinner parties. I like to laugh and dance and sing while wandering the neighborhoods with friends. I am not an unhappy person. So, then why, at 24, does single = unhappy/lonely/sad?

And what is so great about being in a serious relationship at my age anyway? I have two friends that are in very serious relationships with their respective male partners, one is married and the other live together. They just may be the two unhappiest friends I have. And, like I said before, I have a lot of friends. (whoop, whoop!)

The married lady has two focuses - work and, well, being married. That would be wonderful if that was all she needed, longed for, etc., marriage and work, but all she really does is complain. She has no hobbies or interest outside of these two universes. And, I worry about her for this reason. While she has had a fairly successful career in her early twenties and her husband is very kind and sweet, what else is there for her? What gets her excited? What makes her laugh so hard she feels like she is going to barf? What makes her sing and smile and dance? Did she know before the marriage?

My other friend lives with her boyfriend in a new city. New for her, not for him. She is miserable. They fight. They scream. They drink. They Makeup. Rinse. Repeat. She also, like the married one, has no hobbies outside of the relationship and work. None. I also worry about her. And she has such a wonderful opportunity to explore and pickup new hobbies in her new city.

At 24, do people forget how to acquire new interest and passions? When in a relationship, do you forget? How does this happen?

And also, because one of these two girls may potentially read this post, they are not unhappy in their relationships. They are not even horribly unhappy at their jobs. They are just sort of unhappy with the vanilla.

When I was in college, I came across this quote while reading The Feminine Mystique, and I thought it was so beautiful and wise and meaningful, but most of all, I thought it just encompassed an incredible truth.

“The fact remains that the girl who wastes—as waste she does—her college years without acquiring serious interests, and wastes her early job years marking time until she finds a man, gambles with the possibilities for an identity of her own, as well as the possibilities for sexual fulfillment and wholly affirmed motherhood.
-Betty Friedan

Now, I’m not saying that my friends will always be unhappy, God, I pray they are not, but why are we always labeled as the ‘sad single girl’ no matter how happy we are?

Just like Gloria Steinem, Annie Edson Taylor, Murphy Brown and all the other great feminists before me, I will stay strong, acquiring interest, continuing to learn and laugh and play. I refuse to let the worlds’ ‘single stigma’ hurt me. And, if love does come along for me, that just means one more person to dance with, and that is how my story will end.

Friday, December 5, 2008

Secret Song


This is for all the 13-year-old girls out there who grew up.

Will she ever find love?

Forgive Me Love

I, went to your house
Walked up the stairs
Opened the door without ringing the bell
Walked down the hall
Into your room
Where I could smell you

And I, I shouldn't be here
Without permission
I shouldn't be here?

Would you forgive me love?
If I dance in your shower
Would you forgive me love?
If I laid in your bed
Would you forgive me love?
If I stayed all afternoon oh

I took off my clothes
Put on your robe
Went through your drawers
And I found your cologne
Went down to the den
Found your cd?s
And I played your Joni
And I shouldn?t stay long
You might be home soon
I shouldn?t stay long

Would you forgive me love?
If I dance in your shower
Would you forgive me love?
If I laid in your bed
Would you forgive me love?
If I stayed all afternoon

I burned your incense
I ran a bath
I notice a letter that sat on your desk
It said ?hello love?
I love you so love?
Meet me at midnight?
And no, it wasn?t my writing,
I better go soon

It wasn't my writing
So forgive me love
If I cry in your shower
So forgive me love
For the salt in your bed
So forgive me love
If I cry all afternoon oh?

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Why Do I Keep Running into Brody Jenner - An Ode to Mandy Meszaros

I have a friend, who is really more of my mentor of life, and her name is Mandy Meszaros. She is currently experiencing a phenomenon of sorts that not many others, well at least none that I know, have experienced before. It is going to sound weird, and even unbelievable, but Brody Jenner keeps showing up every place she goes. Now, I don't think he is actually 'stalking' her, but it's quite bizarre. She will be running on the lakeshore jogging path, and there he is, riding a tandem bike with his new Playgirl, play girl. There was also that time she went to sing karaoke in Boystown with her friend Ellen, and there he was, his fro blocking the monitor, with his buddy Spencer Pratt. Mandy, of course, was humiliated as she fumbled over lines to Chaka Khan's "Slow Dancin," until Ellen saved the day by slow dancing herself - which really got the crowd roaring. Lastly, on the Friday after Thanksgiving, Mandy had been on the hunt for a blue cheese olive stuffer for weeks after her mother accidentally put the family's down the garbage disposal. Well, as you can imagine, at this time of year they are in short supply. She finally found one in Macy's on State street, and who do you think grabbed it right before she did? That's right, Brody Jenner! That bastard. The Meszaro's family will be without blue cheese stuffed olives for a bit longer.

As a tribute to Mandy's hard "jenner" times, I have compiled a few quotes of hers from emails past that will hopefully warm her heart during this cold and frigged season:

"I don't really care too much about what people think...but I would feel retarded running as baby Carry."

"Drinking a giant sugar free Red bull. Becoming happier by the minute. I swear there's drugs in that drink. What are you doing, spaz?"

"I miss you as well. If you didn't have the sh*ts we could have seen each other Tuesday. Let's definitely try to meet up with each other next week. OK??"

"I'm not the cleanest but that could be fun! yeah, C and I talked about you the entire time. I told her how you were anxious about losing your job and were looking elsewhere for in the treasonist detective industry."