5. Warning.

Why is it that when I'm in a good mood, but just feel like being quiet, I get fifty people asking me what's wrong or if I'm okay, but when I'm in a terrible mood, nobody seems to notice? This is incredibly annoying, and starting to greatly piss me off.

If I have an issue with something, I am more than willing to share what's going on, if it's any of your business. For once though, if I say "I'm fine. Nothing's wrong." I want to be taken at face value. Obviously if I want to talk about what's bothering me, I'll talk about it. After suffering a very long and daunting trip yesterday, full of constantly hearing, "Are you okay? What's wrong?" I want one day where I don't have to hear it. Jesus Christ, I'm not in the mood. And no, this isn't directed at any one person. It's multiple people. That's why I'm giving the general overview instead of naming names. I don't need everyone coming to me complaining because they got offended. Generalizations rock like that.

I was in a great mood, but a combination of a migraine, severe annoyance, and stress has made me a very cranky person. Here's where it would be prudent to ask what's wrong....not when I'm trying to read something on the net or work on a project and choose to be quiet while doing so.

Pretty soon I'll be busting out the shanking stick and going to proverbial town. I would prefer not to shank people, but fuck, sometimes it's necessary.

In other news, it's late and I can't sleep. The fun times just keep on a'rollin'. I'll type more about my ridiculous trip when I don't feel so cranky. That story's bound to put me in a bad mood as is.

4. The point that I lost my mind...

The point that I lost my mind was probably when I agreed to do a children's play. Let's do a little math here, shall we? AJ (who has a pretty extreme dislike of children)+screaming, kicking, squabbling, sniveling children=A migraine and a very pissed off AJ. I end up watching the director reach near-meltdown every night, because kids can't hold still and remember their lines. Now, I must admit. Watching poor Bob run at these kids while screaming at the top of his lungs, or seeing him grab one of them and shake them a bit is quite entertaining, having to pretend that I remotely understand kids for two and a half hours is just WAY too trying.

If you know me, you understand. Kids and I don't mix. If there's a screaming child around, that's a sign for me that it's time to leave. I never want to have any kids, and I'm okay with that. So what part of my brain decided to misfire the day that I agreed to do a CHILDREN'S PLAY. Apparently that's the day I lost my mind.

Now granted, it's tough for a kid to pay attention, so I can't really get too mad at them for not holding still on stage...but they seem old enough to know better. I'm never doing a children's play again. Sometimes the urge is great to go help Bob shake them, but then we'd both go to jail. I prefer to take my pleasure from recording his rantings on my cell phone and showing them to him, so he won't get arrested for shaking children either.

So, in this twisting heap, the moral of the story is.... If nothing else, Children's Theater is a great form of birth control.

3. Drama: My anti-dating

When we last left our protagonist, AJ, she was crawling into bed after an emotionally exhausting day of dealing with school troubles, friendship issues, a dying grandma, and the fact that her evil twin brother Stefan was also her father...

Okay, so the last part isn't true. But the rest is, and when I crawled in bed, I wanted to sink into oblivion for a while. So amid the chicken squabbles of my creepy neighbors fighting over who wants to cap whom and other such nonsense, I dozed off.

Nine minutes later, I awake to shouts of, "Lauren, STOP!" "No! You stop!" "I'm sorry, just hang on a second!" Now... normally, I'd just put in ear plugs and let them kill each other. I don't really have the time to fill out police reports after all, so why be a witness? But alas, no ear plugs were to be found. So I'm forced to listen to this rendition of Drunken Apartment Dwellers 90210.

Lauren-"If you're so sorry, why did you do it?"
Man-"Just shut up and leave it alone. Go home, get some rest."
Lauren-"Don't tell me to shut up! I knew I never should have dated you!"

Aha! I just realized it. They were filming an episode of the Hills outside my apartment window. I knew I'd heard that crappy writing somewhere before. So I laid there among my comfy blankets and fluffy pillows, listening to their anonymous drama being shouted at two in the morning, wondering how I could explain away ignoring a gun shot...should I hear one, when finally, there is silence. Huzzahs all around. I can finally get some sleep............. I can't fall asleep.

Crap.

I contemplate hopping in my car and driving the hour back to my parent's house for the night. This kind of retarded drama never happens there. They live in the country. Worst noise there is a deer farting in the woods. But sadly, I didn't want to drive, so I laid there in wait for the elusive sleep monster to swallow me whole.

Finally, it attacked. I was content.....nine minutes later, they returned.

Man-"LAUREN! CHILL THE FUCK OUT!!"
Lauren-"NO! YOU CHILL OUT! I'M ALLOWED TO BE MAD!"

*twitches* Not at three in the morning you aren't. Not when I'm trying to sleep, and there's currently none of that happening in here. I felt like I was being cock blocked from sleep. Sleep blocked, perhaps? So with Vietnam flashbacks of fights in my own past relationships, I army crawled to my window to ID the perpetrators so I could go in for an embarrassing daylight confrontation to let them know that they need to keep the drama inside like any normal fighting couple would. Sadly, I couldn't spot them. It was dark, rainy, and my contacts were soaking away in acid... Screw it.

So I army crawled back in bed, their fighting came to a close, and I fell back to sleep after another two hours of praying the sleep monster made it a quick death. And people wonder why I'm wary to date these days.

2. Being female, and other extreme sports.

Let me start off by saying, I'm not really a girly-girl, much to my mother's constant horror. Growing up, barbies were forced on me, when I just wanted to play with GI Joes and Power Rangers and throw mud. I was dressed up like every Disney princess for Halloween, when I really wanted to dress like Batman or Superman. Only a matter of time, my mother must have thought, and then all that freakin' pink would just soak into my brain and I'd giggle and flutter like any decent little girl should. My poor mother. I've always been a disappointment in the glitz and glam department. She cringes at my ripped jeans, grungy chucks and fascination with blood and gore. I'm pretty sure she's still constantly shocked, though relieved, that I didn't end up a lesbian.

Well I've found out over the last few days that a few of those frilly female thoughts and reactions actually did sink in. And I don't like them. Now, to make this easier for my mortified brain, I'll break it up into a couple of instances.

First, I was reading scary articles on wikipedia. No, I do not currently possess an active social life. Welcome to my hell. So anyway, sitting in the quiet living room of my creepy apartment, reading about the skunk ape, melon heads (yes, it's creepy. shut up), and crybaby bridge, something touches my shoulder. Now, normally, I'm not that jumpy. I can keep my calm when someone grabs me, or taps me. Not this night. I screamed like a girl, yes, le gasp, a girl, and fell out of my chair. I never used to do this. If something scared me, I'd jump, but I've never screamed like a girl. Ridiculous. Turns out, a damn bug had flown in the last time the door had opened, and decided to land on me. Apparently he thought I was cute. I told my mom about it today, and she was so proud. Strange reasoning skills, my mother has.

Second, while clearing stuff out of an old suitcase to take to my parent's house today, I stumbled upon a spider. Normally, I'd get kind of heeby jeebied, but not enough to really matter. Usually the heeby jeebies are solved with a swift kick to the multi-eyed face of the eight-legged creepster. Well, apparently today, the new and improved frilly AJ felt it only appropriate to squeal...you guessed it...like a girl, do an "ew-ick-creepy-icky-buggy-gross" jig, and hop clumsily up on the bed. I'm absolutely certain this move saved my life. That spider was sure to eat me. He looked vicious. I'm pretty sure he even barked at me as I hopped across the room. So yeah... my mother would be so proud to know that I now hop and squeal and tremble at the sight of creepy crawlers and scary happenings.

Thank the heavens, I finally grew a vagina.

1. Where to start?

This is a very exciting day for me. I mean, come on, my first post on this shiny new blog? Yep, a monumental day. Give me a moment to bask in the glory of it. *basks*

Okay, enough basking. So you may be wondering, what the heck is this blog about? Well, as you may have noticed from the title, it's about my views on life, love.....and you guessed it, the size of my ass. Well, not really MY ass, but just asses in general. Wait, okay, maybe that didn't come out correctly. Well, anywho. I can see you scratching your heads in just a bit of confusion, so let's break this down into the three basic categories so things make a little more sense.

I will be talking about...

1. Life- For instance, today while driving to campus, two girls walked right out in front of my car. Now while my first reaction on a good day would normally be "Ooo... 20 points!" When I'm in a rush, this isn't the same. No, my reaction is to slam on my brakes, shout profanity at them through my open window, and then gun the car for the nearest intersection filled with small children and fluffy animals. After all, even on my bad days, I am an equal opportunity un-safe driver. (insert improper female driver joke here) Now, here's where I'll insert other anecdotes and probably offensive jokes. Sorry in advance. Now class, let's move on...

2. Love- A friend and I decided today that the reason we don't date is because we don't want to be one half of a boring couple. Yes, you know these people. They sit around and do nothing together. Or rather, all they do is watch movies together, or play video games. No one else is included, and they never emerge from their happy couple lair. Not that anyone wants to invite them places. Now I'll pause here because I'll be going into more detail about this particular topic later. And finally....

3. The size of my ass- Yes. A strange topic indeed. my ever elusive ass. No, I'm not actually going to be talking about the state of my ass, so all you internet creepers can just go away now. I will probably write about my trials and tribulations trying to lose weight. No, this will not be an inspirational blog with a weight tracker and all the calories I've eaten for a year and such. I'm not that dedicated. Mostly, you'll just see me bitch about it a lot.

All right, and now that this has gotten unbearably long, have a lovely night, and stop thinking about my ass.