A Compliment and a Cuteness

Compliment

I was chatting with a friend last night, and in saying our goodbyes she said "Thanks for being so ... so... green and yogurty." Well, you're welcome. I work very hard at being both green AND yogurty. And, as you know, it's not easy being green.

Cuteness

My friend's not-quite-three-year-old answered the phone last night when I called their house. I'm sure if this happened every time I called there, or every time I called anyone, it wouldn't seem so cute. But it doesn't, so it is.

Coming Soon

It's not quite writer's block, but the thoughts aren't transferring from my head to here the way I mean for them to, so I haven't been writing as much as I want.

For now, some random info:

1. LEL threatened me at work. I find this outrageously funny - the idea of being threatened by a grandma - and did not and do not plan to tell HR or anything of the like. My plan of killing her with kindness is slowly working. The Cowboy keeps encouraging me to give LEL filing and generally ask her to help me. I finally asked her for help yesterday, she fucked up, got VERY upset about her mistake, and ultimately fixed it.

2. I just purchased airline tickets to go to LA for my brother's heart surgery in February. Start praying now; I'll let you know when to stop.

3. My brother and CG are in town (along with their dog), and I actually had chest pains yesterday afternoon at the thought of meeting up with them (her, really) for dinner. Though she did not get drunk at dinner, which was my worst nightmare, she did employ the ask questions, judge, then say how she's somehow better, method. She then lied to my brother in front of his friends and me.

4. I got invited to a concert in Berkeley by the artist performing in it, and I want to go. I think.

5. There is some massive drama out there (here?) in the blog-world. Fascinating reads, but ultimately sad when you keep in mind there are real people with real feelings behind the blogs.

Thank You

I know I do a lot of bitching about how people ignore me, look through me, drop doors on me, and how it hurts my feelings. So I thought it might be nice to do the opposite.

In the supermarket the other day, I was struggling to reach something. Right as I was about to explore the Short People Method of stepping up on the lowest shelf, I felt a guy walking behind me. My fingers closed around the box just as the guy asked if I needed help.

That's right, some nice, tall, Asian guy wearing a suit had just asked if I needed help. That's the first time in my life that ever happened.

And Beth One? Yes, I was wearing one of my new bras. I admit, maybe you WERE a little bit right.

I Love To Vote!

But I hate those stupid stickers they try to give you that say you voted. I just like voting for things; I feel no need to tell everyone I've done it.

Since I've been awake since 4:25 a.m., I finally decided to be productive and surf the web (yeah whatever, we all have our own definitions).

Look what I found: http://www.2006.bloggies.com/

All these new blogs to check out! I'm so excited! This will take up TONS of time at work! And when I'm finished looking at all these new blogs, I get to VOTE ON THEM! It's like I've died and gone to blogging heaven...

Nuthin' Cuter

Than seeing 80 year-old red-headed twins all dressed up in matching old lady clothes, complete with the same exact hair styles, strolling through the Financial District in SF holding hands.

They made my day today. I used to see them in a specific coffee shop weekday mornings, over a year ago. Totally forgot about them until today, when I saw them clutching each other's hands as they walked towards the escalators. You just know their names are Georgina and Josephine or something cute like that.

I wonder what they talk about. I wonder if they were both married and their husbands died, or if they never got married. I wonder if when they were little girls they wanted to marry twin red-headed boys and live next door to each other. I wonder if they have a nice group of old lady twin friends that they get together with once a week.

Nuthin' cuter, indeed.

A Baby Attorney Outting!

If you've looked at the side of my blog, you know I like this one: http://opinionistas.com/

What you may not know, is that she just went public. http://www.observer.com/20060123/20060123_Anna_Schneider-Mayerson_pageone_newsstory4.asp

If I'd been socking away a six figure salary, had an education that might afford me other opportunities at other six figure salaries, had a bigger and better vocabulary than I do, and could write better than I can, I might try what Melissa just did. Though I'd push for a sit-com instead of a book deal, because that's how my blog could best be spun.

Despite my tendency to hate anyone I become jealous of, I wish Melissa all the best of luck. Now that she's escaped from law firm life, I hope she takes some well deserved time to sleep in, wake up to Z100 and actually listen for a while, stroll over to CVS at times other than rush-hour, and all the other little things you can't do when you're working as a baby attorney. And if she happens to find the time to send me some real NY bagels *cough*hint*cough*, that would be great (for me), too.

When leaving work tonight after 7PM, I saw one of the baby attorneys just settling herself in for a long night in the law library. Hope she's got opinions ... and a blog.

100 Things I Hate

1. When people are slaves to fashion.
2. When people are judgmental and won't admit it.
3. People who stand too close.
4. People who talk too loudly.
5. When people call me "sweetie" to create a false sense of closeness.
6. People who are phony.
7. The capri/knicker dress pants paired with knee high boots style that so many people are rocking now.
8. Patchouli.
9. When all of the milks at the supermarket are expired and nobody who works in the dairy department is anywhere to be found.
10. People in the grocery stores who don't know how to bag properly.
11. When I have to enter my account number in order to reach a live person and then the first thing the live person asks for is my account number.
12. When people in stores have proven they're not capable of helping me but then get angry that I ask to speak to their managers.
13. When people flake or are late.
14. When I forget my watch.
15. When I get dirty.
16. When I expect I'm meeting specific people and they show up with other people.
17. Sudden change.
18. When my cell phone doesn't tell me I have voicemail.
19. When a store is closed but the store hours in the window say they should be open.
20. When people don't listen to me. Really listen.
21. Liars.
22. Being used.
23. When people speak in response to a question I've asked them but they don't answer my question.
24. Tuna fish.
25. Bugs (even though they're good for the ecosystem or whatever).
26. That my brother's girlfriend will scream at him that he needs to be a calmer person.
27. That I can't slam people over the head with a frying pan when they frustrate me.
28. My mother (right now).
29. My frizzy hair.
30. My (lack of) memory.
31. My learning disabilities.
32. When people make snide comments about my lack of drinking. Let it go already.
33. When people say "Oh, you'll LOVE ________!" when what they mean is that they love it. 34. My thumbs.
35. The fact that I don't have a dog.
36. Worrying about keeping my job.
37. Dreams when family members die.
38. Feeling like a failure.
39. People who are superfluous.
40. When people don't walk on the right.
41. When people drop doors on people (me) behind them.
42. When people don't say "thank you" after I've held the door for them.
43. When my roommate makes a mess and doesn't clean it up.
44. When I stick my foot in my mouth (often).
45. The fact that I have so many things I hate.
46. Having to do my own filing at work (I got spoiled from having past filing clerks).
47. Getting lost when I'm by myself.
48. My ineptitude in using computers.
49. When people don't respond to e-mails I send them.
50. Feeling like it's an obligation to call family members.
51. Being unable to express myself.
52. That some people see my refusal to engage in arguments with them as an admittance of some sort that I think they're right, when in reality I've just decided preserving the relationship is more important to me than being right is.
53. Onions.
54. When people act shocked at all the foods I dislike.
55. When people step on my feet or bump into me and don't apologize.
56. Having arthritis. Sure, it's cool that my body tells me when it's going to rain, but I'd give up that magic in a heartbeat and be content with weather.com.
57. My horrible eyesight.
58. Not understanding answers to questions I ask.
59. That I can't learn other languages.
60. Feeling like I'm coming from so much further away then everyone else is.
61. Being interrupted for having said "shit" while telling my mother something important.
62. When I get (electric) shocked.
63. When people act like I'm an idiot for not understanding things they talk about.
64. Carbonated drinks.
65. Forgetting to put a bottle of water in the fridge to get cold.
66. Forgetting to defrost dinner.
67. Not having air conditioning in my apartment.
68. When people say something they're doing to me doesn't hurt (waxing or blood tests, for example).
69. That my face turns red when I'm embarrassed.
70. That I have to spell-check so many words.
71. Not knowing more of San Francisco.
72. How my shower curtains billow INTO the shower while I'm showering. It takes all my self-control to not wash my body all over again each time they touch me, for I'm convince that they're disgustingly dirty despite the fact that I spray them with Tilex Shower after each shower.
73. That I live as far away from Target as I do.
74. When my coworker screams into the phone, but then complains that I listen in on her calls. 75. That I haven't been out of the country.
76. That I'm scared to travel to countries where English is not the predominant language.
77. That I'm not perfect.
78. That I'm not independently wealthy.
79. That I don't have a name that shortens to a cuter nickname.
80. Being scared that if I had kids I might pass on all (or even any) of my learning disabilities and all the many things I hate about myself.
81. That I probably won't ever have kids.
82. My addictive personality.
83. Being uncomfortable with people.
84. That there are two hours and ten minutes left until I can leave work.
85. People who talk too much, and never shut up. :)
86. When I lose respect for people.
87. When I feel myself putting people on unreasonably high pedestals but can't stop.
88. When people act in such ways that it makes me not want to do things for them anymore. 89. Stupid questions.
90. That at Bath & Body Works the sales people accost you multiple times telling you the exact same things the four trillion signs say all over the store.
91. Poor table manners.
92. When people shield themselves from anything less than rosy, but then act shocked that someone did something less than honorable.
93. That despite the fact that my mother knows I read (and embraced) Fast Food Nation, and saw and liked Supersize Me, she still felt compelled to send me $35 worth of coupons to Burger King.
94. Seeing people pick their noses.
95. Seeing kids exhibit bad manners and seeing the parents ignore it.
96. When people know me better than I know myself.
97. When I don’t listen to good advice.
98. Iceless water with lemon in it.
99. Servers who don’t believe me when I say “No really, I like it PLAIN.”
100. I hate the looks people give me when they hear that I don’t own a DVD player or any DVDs, or an IPod. Fuck you – I’m not rich and don’t have rich friends. If you want to be my rich friend and give me an IPod as a gift, I’m open to that.

The Playas

As people have bigger and bigger influences on my life - whether good or bad - I often give them nicknames. Not everyone I love gets one, nor does everyone I hate. Here is a breakdown of some of the people I frequently mention on here:

Green Bro / Golden Boy - my brother, older than me by 22 months, lives in SF with CG, can do no wrong in my mother's eyes, hence GB.
CG/Crazy Girl - my brother's fiancee, a public pretender (defender), lives with my brother, makes the best turkey I have ever tasted in my entire life, they have an adorable dog which they allow me to dogsit
The Mother Load/The Load - my mom, who lives in FL, married to my dad for over 35 years. We have had a communication breakdown as a result of her denial of truth. I want little to do with my parents, but want to want more to do with them than I do. My mother seems to think we just need to spend time together and things will magically go back to the way they were. You know, back when I hated myself and could do nothing right in my parent's eyes.

9am - my current roommate, named for the time our initial meeting was. A guy (my first boy roommate), baby lawyer, misogynist, homophobe, has one girlfriend in Europe and another in Russia. He was a chemistry major and thus is a germaphobe. 9am's shining moment was bringing me flowers on Valentine's Day. Most amusing moment with 9am: when I caught him in front of the kitchen sink washing eggs. Yes, that's right, the eggs were still in the shell, and he was washing them.

Loose Earlobe Lady/LEL - a former coworker, sat next to me, seemed to be going deaf based on how poorly she hears and loudly she talks, one of the grandmas, we didn't get along, her earlobes are very swing-y and often when I was bored by whatever she's saying to me, I quietly amuse myself by watching the earlobes swing wildly. Ultimately she was not offered a position when our department moved to a new office.
The Grandmas - the row of older women who sat near me at my old job, they do cute grandma things like reminding me to wear a sweater when it's cold out, offering me prunes, letting me know when they've brought baked goods to work, and always having tissues shoved up their sleeves.
Cat Lady - another coworker, sat on the other side of LEL, had gastric bypass surgery and likes to flash the scar on her pale flabby belly, belch, talk about her many frequent digestive problems, her cat, and thinks she knows everything.
The Cowboy - one of the two partners in my former department at the law firm I work for, very much the extrovert, often out of the office but a whirlwind of energy when he arrives, disliked intensely by the Cat Lady, I like him.
The Nice Partner - one of my two former bosses, also a partner, quiet, almost always in the office, he's got a wicked sense of humor in him though it rarely comes out, which somehow makes it funnier when it does. His claim to fame was having two sets of twins.
Tunafish - an associate that I worked for, often shat upon by the partners (they have him fetch lunch, etc.), has often quietly helped me out.

The Steamroller - my former roommate, born and raised in China, we barely ever spoke, she often lost her keys and called me to let her in, orders dinner in every single night, works long hours. She invited her parents for a month without telling me. It didn't go well.
Mr. Steamroller - Steamroller's boyfriend, he doesn't live here, but when she's home, he's here too
Cagney - my former roommate, sweet little girl who never cleaned up, naive enough to ask me to lower her rent after she got her first paycheck and realized how much of it was going to rent, parking, car payments, car insurance, health insurance, and school loans, young enough to cry when she asked that.

Divorce?

This morning I overheard the Steamroller screaming into her cellphone. Then I heard crying. Not just regular crying, but tortured, heart-breaking crying. I haven't seen Mr. Steamroller around much lately, and I wonder if they were breaking up today.

Poor Steamroller. Maybe. If only I understood other languages...

)

There's a New Lauren

My name is .... we'll say it's Lauren. In high school I was best friends with a girl named Lauryn. Every time we called each other, we'd say "Hey Lauren, it's Lauryn" or the other way around. She was wild and got in lots of trouble and it was a lot of fun for me, the Girl Who Wasn't Allowed To Do Anything. Naturally, my mother hated Lauryn, and that we were friends. When I was a college freshman, we lost touch. And by "lost touch" I mean that when I called my mother saying I was miserable at my college and wanted to come home, she said I only could if I promised to have nothing to do with Lauryn ever again.

Long story slightly less long: several years passed, and it turned out that Lauryn lived in N. FL when I was living in S. FL. We got together a couple of times, and I learned something important about life. Even if you grow up, and do grownup things, it doesn't mean you've Grown Up. You can become a stripper, your husband can be one of your former customers, he can marry you, buy you a house, you can get pregnant three times (smoke through all three pregnancies), and become a stay-at-home-mom, but you can still be just as immature as you were in high school.

When I moved to SF, I didn't tell Lauryn. As far as she's concerned, I dropped off the face of the earth, and I'm okay with her thinking that. Since moving here, I've met a new Lauren. She's also from the East Coast, and Jewish like me. The New Lauren has had some hard times creating a good relationship with her mother, and yesterday I asked her if we could talk about my Mother Load problems. She said yes, and last night I found myself saying something I haven't said in a long time. "Hey Lauren, it's Lauren."

It brought me back, and felt kind of weird at first. But the more we talked the clearer it was that she is her own Lauren, and that this is a good Lauren for me to know and be friends with. The New Lauren listened, asked clarifying questions, commiserated with me, and made some excellent observations and insights that I couldn't see due to being too close to the situation.

It wasn't my intention, but I'm glad I've promoted myself to a better Lauren.

P.S. Now the sound "Lauren" sounds funny to me because I've said it so many times in my head writing this entry.

So Jealous

I get jealous quite often. Sometimes the things I get jealous about are petty. I was reading this blog tonight and Opinionista's most recent post answers questions readers of her blog have asked her.

NOBODY'S ASKED ME ANY QUESTIONS!! WHERE ARE MY QUESTIONS??

I would love to have a FAQ, but there ARE no frequently asked questions. So bummed. These are the kinds of realizations that make me want to start investing obscure shit about my life and posting it.

Incidentally, I was also jealous today of everyone who was able to wake up and get to work on time. For the first time in my life, I slept through my alarm. I have to be at work at 9 AM. Waking at 8:50 AM does not make getting to work on time easy. To my credit, I was out the door at 8:57 AM and only 11 minutes late for work. But still. What the fuck?! So I'm going to sleep early tonight, in the hopes that tomorrow I can wake up at LEAST at 8:30 AM. If not when my alarm goes off an hour before then.

Happy New Year. Yeah, Whatever.

I'm not exactly what you'd call a partier. I was perfectly happy getting home last night a little after 9pm. The train, which is usually nearly empty, had almost every seat filled with people dressed up fancily, complete with too much cologne. The homeless people who "live" half a block from me were replaced with a couple wearing lit-up dragonflies. The bodies of the dragonflies were red and the wings manically flashed blue.

The view of the Bay and the Bay Bridge from my apartment are pretty spectacular. The street in front of my apartment was filled with cars and limos. At midnight all those cars were blowing their horns. People had gotten out of their cars and stood on the roofs screaming. People were standing in the middle of the street, a busy street in a major city, to watch the fireworks. It blew my mind that it was okay to do that. And it really was. People just walked around in the street, taking pictures and running around. For a solid half hour, all the traffic was at a dead stop with everyone watching the firework display. People on the street were yelling up to the people in my building who were out on their balconies.

As exciting as it was for me to watch the celebration from the distance of my bedroom window, I couldn't really understand it. As fun as it was to see people happy and celebrating, I was happy to be far enough from it to be uninvolved. I sort of understand why it all seems like fun for the other people, but it's not something that seems like fun for me. It's as if traditional fun isn't fun for me. So, happy new year. Or, whatever.