Today, I said what may very well be the nerdiest thing I've ever said.
I was conversing with the gent from downstairs, and he was watching me play KOTOR, because, well, that's what I do.
At some point, some Sith asshole turned on me, as Sith are wont to do, and the lad goes "That guy just betrayed you!"
"Yeah, well: Never trust a Sith as far as you can Force Push him."
Soy un perdedor, baby.
I had a long entry written yesterday about how much my fucking ankle hurts, but it was too pitiful, so I deleted it.
Also, I wanted to complain about all you assholes who have peanut allergies and lactose intolerances, and ask how we suddenly became a race of wussies.
Then, I had some ideas about how in the same breath that the public praises Cameron Mannheim for being an Out-And-Proud fattie, and chastizes that Ally McForgotten About Five Years Or So Ago chick and the rest of Hollywood for having eating disorders, how it's so damn HIP to eat all healthy and exercise.
Then I discovered that kittiesandbunnies.com is an actual site, and I laughed so hard, I cried.
Speaking of crying -- Ralphie May?
Am I a heartless bitch to think that it was inappropriate to sob out stock jokes on live television? Who put a gun to your head and made you go on TV? If you want to grieve, grieve.
Ah, whatever.
Well, it took a whole lot of time, but I'm finally able to launch the super-secret website I've been working on since approximately July.
It's a website for the Performing Arts Camp that I work for every summer, so you may not find it incredibly interesting, but if you look hard, you can find the little hints of Lauren shining through that seem to say "Yes, it's a website for a camp Lauren no longer attends, but somehow she was able to make it all about her."
I have the uncanny ability of upstaging everything I'm involved with, and this website is no exception.
You also may have noticed (psycho stalkers, I'm talking to you) that I re-added the "Stand-Up Comedy" button over there
El Pueblo de Nuestra Senora la Reina de los Angeles de Porciuncula.
Los Angeles is the only city in the world whose abbreviation (L.A.) is 3.63% of its full name.
3.63% ironically being the exact same percentage of me that wishes to stay in Pittsburgh a minute longer.
I don't have many wondorous tales to tell. I didn't get discovered while driving down the street. I didn't lunch with Spielberg. I didn't get liposuction.
I did roll my eyes a whole lot at a few choice ladies who will remain nameless because I may need something from them someday, but who, during the duration of my stay, I silently tried to kill with my mind.
Fucking girls. I swear to God.
I saw the sights, I ate the food, and I generally felt the need to drop everything and move there immediately, but I guess I should, you know, continue "going to my job" and "paying rent" like a chump.
I have a few pictures, although my camera is en route to Pittsburgh through the wonders of the US Mail, because apparently, I'm retarded.
But, yes, as soon as my lease is up next year (and Theater Camp is over, of course), I'm off to the lovely city of angels.
But now, I'm off to bed, dreaming of a updating my website with a better entry than this.
Well, folks, I'm here.
I'm in L.A.
I flew out for Melissa's 24th Birthday, and what a lucky girl she is.
I remember my 24th birthday like it was a month and two days ago.
*sigh* I was so young then, and full of hope.
She's taken me around the city, and already I don't want to go home.
No offense to Felicia or...well, Felicia's the only one. Maybe my parents.
When they're not screaming at me.
Anyway, this place feels so right.
The girls are hot and the boys are gay, and the ones who aren't make it all worth it when they check you out.
I swear, when guys check me out here, I look around and see all the gorgeous women they could also be looking at, and I just want to run up to them and thank them and hand them a questionairre about their time spent checking me out.
Was I hospitable in returning your smile?
Did you enjoy your stay locked in my glance?
Would you recommend me to a friend?
The plane ride out was even not so bad, even though I had to endure the Stand-By hell that is stopping off in Charlotte, North Carolina, "Motto: Welcome to our airport. We hope you enjoy your layover."
When I got on the flight to L.A., though, I got to watch Shrek 2, which I had never seen because I hated Shrek 1 so much and it had been built up so much by people mooing about it, by the time I saw it, it was like "Oh, adult jokes in a kids movie. Aren't we wacky and original?"
But believe me now when I say that Shrek 2 was the best movie ever, and I need to see it 17 more times.
You see, it was "edited for content" and "some people may be offended by the left-in content" said the slate before the movie, which I can only assume means that there was a hard-core Orge Sex scene between Shrek and Fiona that I missed out on, and I just have to rent it to see, because do you know how hard it is to get Ogre Porn on the internet?!
I can tell you right now that it's difficult, and to those people who got to this page by typing "Ogre Porn" into Google, I apologize for leading you on this cruel ruse.
Well, I'm off to Melissa's party at some trendy L.A. restaurant, which will likely stare at me when I ask them for a Big Mac with extra secret sauce.
These damn Californians are so judgmental!
First, I have to get a few things out of the way.
1. The next fuckshit who says "Get 'er done" anywhere in my immediate vicinity is getting straight clocked in their red-fucking-neck.
I swear to God.
If I thought "'er" weren't referring to your sisters, maybe it wouldn't piss me off so much.
And STAY AWAY FROM MY CART AT WAL*MART!
- Side note: They sell Jeff Foxworthy greeting cards at Wal*Mart.
Abandon hope. The apocalypse is nigh.
2. Does ANYONE think the comic Zippy is funny?
I mean, does it even contain jokes?
Seriously, I need answers.
I mean, okay, Doonesbury is for liberals, Family Circus is for religious types, Far Side is for people who have a sense of humor, who exactly is the Zippy crowd?
Bald men who wear bows and don't pronounce the "E" in "the"?
Somebody, please help me out! < /Seinfeld >
Okay, now that I'm done with THAT.
Knights of the Old Republic has eaten my life.
I played for nearly two days straight, taking minimal breaks for eating and going to the bathroom.
If anyone is playing, or played 17 years ago when it came out, I am a Scoundrel and a Jedi Sentinel, and Carth Onasi will be mine, oh, yes, he will be mine.
Also, I spent a good portion of Saturday night organizing my fonts.
I wish I could say that I was joking.
It's funny, but from playing KOTOR, I walk around and wonder if the things I do in real life would get me light side points.
Then I laughed, when I decided that I was living by W.W.J.D.
What Would Jedi Do?
Then I cried, because I will die a virgin.
Well, I'm gonna go make some tacos, and then wander around Tatooine for a while.
Here are the points I wish to make.
-- Well...KOTOR wants to go on a break.
Or so he SAID! The minute I turned my back, he was making out with my GameCube! Little does he know he's too big for her. He'll never fit inside.
I apparently don't have enough hertzes in my ROM, nor is my Video Card OpenGL enough.
Oh, YEAH, so THAT'S why I stopped buying computer games 15 years ago!
I am working on accumulating said products without having to reformat for the THIRD time in six fucking months.
-- Going to a dance club when you think your sprained ankle has healed is not a good idea. It's not healed.
Then it will swell up all big and won't let you sit indian-style.
-- When will I learn that if I want to give myself a break on the weekend, "sleeping until I'm not tired anymore" is a time that will never come, and I'm just wasting time I could be...well, I guess I don't have anything better to do. I'm going to go take a nap!
-- I hate, I HATE, I HATE Peter Pan!
I mean, blogs wherein the user thinks that she needs to omit subjects from every sentence.
"Came home today. Abused the English Language. Think Bridget Jones' Diary is a good book. Will piss off Lauren shortly."
-- If you think popcorn and Reece's Pieces is not breakfast, you are wrong, good sir.
-- I forgot to say about a month ago that some delightful user sent me Casablanca off my wishlist. I kept his address as a way to thank him, but it is now lost.
Please email me, so I can thank you personally.
-- I was also supposed to inform you during camp that this year's underaged crush was Calvin Moneypenny.
I have a crush on one of the young lads at my camp every year -- I like 'em young! -- and since Joey is of age this year, it was a tough decision with the likes of hottie italian AJ and sexy Polish (have those words ever been used together?) Addam.
But it came down to the $¢, so there you go.
Please don't send the police to my house.
-- To everyone ever: If the person you're IMing doesn't respond back within one millisecond of your query, it doesn't mean that person hates you forever.
However, the next time I get a --
SadLoser: (9:25:01 PM) Hey! How's it going?
SadLoser: (9:25:02 PM) WHY DO YOU HATE ME? Is it because I smell? It's because I smell, isn't it? WHY ARE YOU SO SHALLOW?! Wah-ah-ah! Fine then, be mad at me, see if I care.
-- message, I WILL hate you forever.
-- I sometimes have boring updates.
If I haven't made you read this yet, do it now, and pretend it was my update.
Well, guys, I don't like to get too personal on this web-site of mine, but I have to just come out and say it...I'm in love.
Now, I know it sounds cheesy, but the last time I was up with something until 7:00 AM...well, it was two days ago at work, but still.
And I know, I'm a little late to notice how great he is, since he's been around for a year or so, but I'm often late to jump on things, but boy, am I glad I did.
Folks, the name of my new boyfriend is Knights of the Old Republic, or KOTOR, if you're a hipster.
Or some space robot.
My beloved brother is home for what will probably be the last summer ever before he's shipped off to Force the Air in some backwoods town.
He just had to get his wisdom teeth out, and ever a fan of hanging out with people on OxyContin and Percoset as 40% of my previous boyfriends will tell you, I decided to entertain him.
Since his surgery was early in the morning, I was able to come over after work and we both slept a good 9 or so hours, and then were up all night.
He'd been talking about KOTOR, as had just about any person who knows anything, but I didn't believe the hype, and knowing my penchant for loathing all games including the word "Star" followed by "Wars," I didn't have the highest hopes.
Well, hear me now and believe me a year ago, this is the best fucking game I've ever played.
It's as if God mashed up Final Fantasy, rolled it around in some Kings Quest and added a dash of The Longest Journey, and let it simmer until golden-awesome.
The cruelty of life is, however, that my precious saved game is on his dirty, dirty Xbox, and in a week or so, it's going to commence being thrown up upon by his retarded frat brothers.
Well, I am about to run right out to WalMart and invest much more money than I should in the PC version of this game, and maybe even one of those computer controller deals.
It only took me fucking 17 hours to figure out the buttons on that godforsaken Xbox controller. I'm not about to try and decipher that series of secret codes on my keyboard will make my hot, little Scoundrel draw her Vibro Blade or use her feminine wiles to hit on that delightful Carth Onasi.
I chose to walk the path of the light side, despite urgings from my brother that the Dark have more fun, even though he himself is such an angellic jedi, I have reason to believe his character and Carth Onasi could probably consummate their love only in states like Massachusetts, if you get my drift.
Well, an alternate "Massachusetts" called "Tatooine."
In "real life" news, I have cut my hair, in a seeming attempt to make myself even more repellant to the opposite sex.
I call this new haircut "No, I don't have a boyfriend, and it appears as if I don't plan to have one for another year or so until this grows out." Or also "I SWEAR I don't like girls."
I like it, but the general consensus of people who have to look at me seems to be, "Oh...you...cut your hair. Yeah, it looks...um, I think I left the wood-burning oven on." And then they run off, and you know what, I don't think they even HAVE wood-burning ovens.
Wait, a second, you can't leave wood-burning ovens ON!
No, no, this doesn't add up at ALL.
Well, back to defending the galaxy.
Hail the Republic!
If crying while watching a show about a puppy who saves his whole family from a house fire makes me a pussy, then I say to you, good sir, you may now address me as Pussy.
He...he was just so brave!
He led them around back because there were live electrical wires out front!
Then I started thinking about Li'l Brudder, and, oh, God, here come the waterworks again.
He has the heart of a champion...*sniff*
I don't cry.
Okay?
I've told you this before.
I haven't?
I've told someone before.
I don't.
Because crying is for pussies.
I can't even REMEMBER the last time I cried.
In fact, out of the thousands of boyfriends I've had (five) I only cried over ONE of them, and that was because I misunderSTOOD him, you see.
I thought that instead of saying "I don't love you anymore," he had acutally said, "I once heard tale of a homeless kitten named Buttons who died because no one would love her enough."
Guess what.
In the past 24 hours, I've almost crashed three times while turning a corner, then losing grip of the steering wheel because my hands are so sweaty.
How do you like me NOW?
Damn you summer humidity.
Damn you to hell.
And while I'm on the topic of being beligerent, exactly WHEN did being a nerd become so popular?
I walked into HotTopic the other day, and it was like I'd reached the Holy Land.
Zelda shirts, esoteric NES references, a fucking RAVENCLAW t-shirt?
As I handed my paycheck directly to Gothy McPiercerson behind the counter, I realized that I was actually IN a place of business purchasing these wares.
I wasn't on some backwoods website, purchasing an All Your Base shirt from some guy named goku32455.
This was a place of BUSINESS.
I walked around the mall and saw TONS of kids -- some with Anime t-shirts on, some with their GBA SPs flapping about, some with Trogdor t-shirts on, and I thought WHAT IN THE FUCK?
These -- these kids have NO idea what it's like to be a nerd anymore, because being a nerd is COOL.
This geekery revolution...I thought it was just coming about in the minds of geeks themselves.
But NO, you kids have livejournals and forums to whine about your problems, do you know what *I* had when I was your age?
I had my cat.
I had my cat and my imaginary friends.
You fucking kids probably have imaginary friends who own blogs.
You KNOW who MY imaginary friends were?
The Ninja Turtles. Yeah, and let me tell you one thing, you don't get to be the cool kid in school when Raphael is whispering sass in your ear to dish out to the other kids who piss you off.
What MAKES you a nerd these days?
There are so many subcultures now with whiny little support groups and kindred freaks, what exactly makes you outcast anymore?
I swear, I feel like a 40-year-old in the 1970s who used to be chastised in the '50s for her crazy feminist ideals, and is like, "Oh, SURE, NOW it's cool to burn your bra and get a job. Thanks a LOT Women's Lib. Couldn't have picked up the pace 20 years earlier, ya sluts?"
I'll tell you one thing, though.
Those years of mockery and alienation made me into the fine upstanding citizen you see before you.
If I went back Butterfly-Effect stylee, I guess I wouldn't have changed anything.
Maybe made Zelda shirts more readily available.
And I would never have outgrown the Ninja Turtles.
Raph, if you're out there reading this, I miss you.
If I find out that you've been shacking up with that April O'Neil whore, I swear to God...