Lorraine Says: It's Raining Ponies

So, I feel like I should be in a fantastic mood and have lots to say. Since I was last being one-upped by EMT's and queens, I went on another interview, went camping with Jesus, ate mold (or bleu cheese crumbles?) slept for 12 hours straight, and drank out of a fish bowl.

I know! That's like a lot of things going on, especially for old lady me.

So, what's keeping my otherwise bright and sunshiny mood from being bright and sunshiny?

Mother fudgin' rain.

Lorraine Says: Pay No Attention To The Recession Behind The Curtain

Roxanne and I once planned on becoming flight attendants because OMG-how amazing would it be to get out of south Florida, and we could travel and be awesome. Yeah, except I'm terrified of heights. After that didn't pan out and we figured out that NO ONE is making money off this blog deal (I promise I won't start begging you to make me famous) I'm pretty sure the 9-1-1 dispatcher thing started.

Rox had gone through the process of applying and with her connections through DaddyCop was quite encouraged to do so. I'm not sure why, but the idea of trying this out really intrigued me.

I stopped being a lazy bum who talks a lot and does nothing and drove my happy-pancake-butt down to the city's Human Resources department and turned in my application. The lady immediately handed me a paper that said I was to call the number listed and schedule an appointment for an orientation.

Er... really?

Lorraine Says: A Reasonable Rant

Have I ever told you about my gangster immune system? I'm sure I have, seeing as how I love to laugh at Roxanne for having a sucky immune system. I also like to point out that I'm rarely sick and that when I am, I have the awesome-magical-ability to cure my ailments in 24 hours. Usually.

Last week when we took a 3-hour road trip with a feverish-coughy-sneezy Penny, I thought nothing of it. I mean, Penny HAD to be at my birthday. I practically pulled her by the arms out of bed and made her drive to Orlando. Because I love her. I giggled everytime she looked at me all pouty-like and told me she had "sick eyes."


You want to be friend right about now too, right?



Lorraine Says: See Lorraine Run

I had this sort-of-kind-of good idea a couple of months ago, to start a 25 Before 25 list. Oh real unique Lorraine. Did you think of that all by yourself? YEAH, YEAH, whatever. Bucket lists are a blog thing like awards that no matter how much you beg do not come with a cash (or chocolate!) prize. Like giveaways and vlogs. I wasn't re-inventing the wheel but I did get all excited, as I tend to, and I bouncily told Rox that she also had to participate also. HAD TO.

Her version of "participating" was going through my slapped together list and talking shizz about it. Yeah, take a look:

Lor: Seriously learn another language. I've gotten the farthest with Hebrew and by that I mean, "Shalom."

Rox: VOUZ COMPRENES L'ANGLAIS?! Hey, we were good with French for about 5 minutes. I totally missed the Hebrew phase but srsly, Hebrew? You can't even pick up a guy with that, stupid - wrong religion! GOSH.

Lor: Visit another country.

Rox: A lot of these should have been combined. I think you cheated, ma'am. I mean, what good is having the passport if you're not going to visit another country? Likewise, what good is writing a song if you're not going to sing it in a public venue? Hmmm. Let's make #26: Not make lazy time bound goals! BWAHAHA.

Sigh.

Lorraine Says: Awkward Birthday

Sooo, I've been talking a lot about my birthday. I know. I just wanted to let you guys know that I am totally not one of those people who talks a lot about their birthday in hopes of getting super special attention.

No. Nope. Not me. Honest. I talk a lot about my birthday before it happens, internalizing the previous year, analyzing lessons learned, making goals for the new one - very Lorraine type things. Things I'm good at. I like new beginnings, and birthdays definitely falls under that category.

However, actual birthday attention is nothing but awkward. "What to do during Happy Birthday" is up there with "what to do with your hands" and "how much noise is appropriate" on my list of big girl questions I need answered.

I mean, you're the center of attention, everyone is singing at you, loudly and off key. There's isn't really much you can do. Singing along is douchey. So you just smile and try not to make direct eye contact with anyone. But the song keeps going on and on. Your smile is tired. The cakes is calling you all delicious looking. AHH STOP LOOKING AT ME. Sometimes uncomfortable itching is involved. Maybe that's just me.

Birthdays were a big damn deal in my house until about the point where I turned 5. From there it's all a blur of birthday cards signed by the members of the household and a Sunday cake.

The awkward was never far behind. For the first time ever in the history of this blog, I give you:

PICTURES OF ME

Roxanne Says: Observations and Other Things.

I've been meaning to blog for quite some time now, kids. I REALLY, really have. It's like when you call someone that you really don't want to talk to, so when you call you let it ring once and then hang up. And then later, when they say "YOU NEVER CALLED", you can show them your call log and say "Oh yes I did!" It's something like that, blog. It's not that I don't want to write, but...oh fuck, I don't even know.

Anyway, I'm here now! Carpe diem, si se puede, HEY MACARENA - alright! *clap*

So, I've been working on my "25 Before 25" ever since Lor posted hers up. I'm always a fan of bucket lists and lists in general. You guys should see me at work - I'm a compulsive list maker. In truth, I'm so scatterbrained and I multi-task more than I can mentally handle. I don't want to jump on the ADD train, because I don't really think that's my issue...I think I'm lacking a few important life chromosomes. As a result, I'm left spending at least a half an hour of my day in list mode. Lists for today, reformulating the list at lunch (because the scribbles and crossing-out distracts me from the items actually left), making a "tomorrow" list at the end of the day...seriously guys, lists. I'm all about it.

//end list tangent. So yes, "25 Before 25." I've been working on it. I'm about half way finished! Want to know where my hang up is? This guy right here:

-le sigh. Get engaged. This is always a hard goal to set when you're in a relationship, and an even HARDER goal to set when your significant other reads your blog. But it's always been my goal, simply because I want to start having kids before 27, because my parents had me at 25/27 and the age range just seems perfect to me.

Once I got to that point, I stopped. I've never realized how scary being in a relationship is until now. I mean, I've been in relationships before - hell, I was even "engaged" - but there's something about being in a relationship where things are very APPARENTLY different from anything else you've ever known that is juuuust enough to scare the bejeezus out of you. Seriously.

Here's the deal: I'm not really a creep for thinking about marriage and then thinking about RiSK and somehow getting the two to cross over. He and I have talked about this, and even though he was (more or less) drunk the few times we did, I think he's serious. I mean, I think he's serious? I'm not sure. There's something about a man promising to have "obnoxiously beautiful babies" with me that makes my heart melt.

Anyway, there's nothing about marriage and babies that scare me when thought of in conjunction with RiSK. Yes, it's a lot and they're big steps, but once I get him roofied up to the point where he doesn't realize what kind of life-ending fuckery he's entering into, I'm sure we'll both be ready for it. The problem arises, blog, with the idea of building my life around this person. This person and all of their whims and emotions and individual feelings that are completely independent of mine. This takes a larger amount of trust than I've ever given and than I think I even know how to muster. It's not just about trusting that someone is where they say they are, or that they haven't talked to their ex, or that the glitter on their face isn't from the strip club - oh no, it's much deeper than that. This is about trusting and taking someone at their emotional face value. About believing what this person says that they want and feel.

The bottom line is that this man can go out with a group of people 20 women deep, he could drink until his face falls off, not come home and I'd trust him implicitly. He's the best man that I know and he'd never do anything to intentionally hurt anyone. AND, to rub salt in the wound, he'd never even put me in a situation where I'd need to feel that way. But how can this amazing man love ME? Inconsistent, disorganized, undirected, floundering me. How can this man babble about marrying me and whatever? I just can't believe it. I can't trust him, in that regard. I can't believe that he loves me.

He's been saying for a long time that he's scared shitless, and I had no idea what he was talking about...until now. I'm not sure, even still, why he's scared...nor do I really know what he's feeling. But this is SCARY. I feel like I'm back at square one of my relationship with him where I had no idea what he was truly feeling or thinking...except now, I DO know what he's thinking/feeling. It's just too good to be true. What if he changes his mind? What if he doesn't really feel the way he says he does? What if he's unsure?

I'll tell you what, son...being single is scary, because you're never sure that the right person will ever come along. "Oh, what if I end up with 300 cats?" "What if I eat myself into double occupancy to ease my emotions?" "Oh, maybe I can cuddle with a Hot Pocket and I won't be so lonely". As troublesome as that is, you know that at the end of the day, you can still rely on and plan around yourself. You're not going to change your mind! You're always going to be around!

For me, the control freak, it's a zillion percent scarier to have found the right person. To hope that everyday, you can be enough, say enough, and do enough to get this person to buy into the beautiful dreams you have. It's just...absolutely horrible in the best way possible, lol.

*sigh* Now that I got that out, maybe I can finish my "25 Before 25"! It'd be nice to find some semblance of pursuable goals at my disposal. Whoop for short term goals!

I'm still alive, blog...I promise.

&rox

P.S - I know that I should do my whopping Day 2 of 30 Days of Truth, but I think I'll save that one for tomorrow. My fingers are all typed out for the day ;)

Lorraine Says: Awesome, Amazing And Great

For little Lorraine, 23 was probably the year of the crisis. I don't think I was early on the mid-mid-life one, I think I was late on the adolescent one. Figures, eh?

Last year, I rang in my 23rd birthday in a hotel room with my 4 best gal pals. There was no Roxanne or Penny yet. There was a lot of unemployment and restlessness and misdirected affections and a general wanting to step outside of everything I'd known my entire life.

I was tired of being the BBF: best behaved friend (a term I kindly scooped from The Non-Student.) Or at least that's what I thought. I'm pretty sure that I didn't know what I wanted. I'm pretty sure because I resented how I became who I am, I started doubting who I was.

Well, if you ever feel bad about yourself, my dear readers, there really is nothing like surrounding yourself by a sea of emo kids. Apparently Paramore has 2 fans: every emo adolescent this side of ever and me.

That's a tad exaggeration, but honest, that's what it felt like. You can only leave that setting happy for the following things: 1.) Puberty is over 2.) High school is over 3.) It might have taken a while, it might've happened a little "late to the party" style, it might have involved having your heart broken, and it might've involved giving things away to people who shouldn't have them, but at least at the end of the concert, you know who you are.

At the end of the concert, you're with the most amazing group of girls ever invented.

At the end of the concert, maybe you are well-behaved..

At the end of the concert, you aren't going home with high-wasted shorts, a navel shirt and boots. HONESTLY, is that a thing now? Shorts and boots? I can't tell you how much of that I saw.

Anyhow, I jumped a little ahead of myself. Let's rewind:

Lorraine Says: My ESOL Salvavidas

Today's post is brought to you by a hobo, or as this post at Living Shallow, Living Well lovingly calls them, a vagabond.

You see, I decided the last thing I wanted for lunch today was fast food. Before you get all jealous of me for self-control and superior eating habits, I decided that the first thing I wanted was a "Tear 'n Share" sized pack of M&M's. (Doesn't that make you feel better about yourself than just saying you had a really big assed pack of candy? Oh, what? Who did I share with? MYSELF.)

So anyways, as I stood in line at CVS with a bottle of water, a bag of chocolate Chex Mix and a Tear 'n Share M&M pack (don't hate) it hit me like a ton of bricks: it smelled like Mag.

The message to my brain was immediate: Abort, abort! Do not pass go! Do not collect $200! Maybe steal the candy!

Just kidding, y'all. I'm not into thievery. So I calmed myself down and quickly assessed the situation. Customer A was a Hispanic lady yelling obscenities at her one year old daughter who was touching the disposable cameras. Nope. Customer B was too far away from me to be the culprit. There were no signs of him and so that left me with one conclusion. Now, this might seem a little meaner than I want it to buuuut... oh well!

The homeless guy standing in front of me buying a Cherry Coke smelled exactly like him. It was uncanny. Okay, maybe less uncanny and more the pack of cigarettes sticking out of his back pocket. And that's when I realized that I'm now traumatized by that smell.

In celebration of never being able to look at a hobo the same way again, I bring you

7 Things or Events That Left Me Scarred For Life

Lorraine Says: Meet This Guy

My mom loves telling the story of the time I forgot about her. In my defense, I was 8 months old. See, she traveled from New Jersey to Florida with Pink for reasons she can't really remember and left me with my Nana. (Sounds suspiciously like a VACATION to me...) A week later when she returned, she came to greet me, and I looked at her blankly and turned away. It broke her heart, she says. I'd forgotten her. She made it a point then and there not to leave her kids, er, ever.

As I typed that out, I realized how amazingly significant it is in the grand scheme of things but that's not really what I came here to say. What I want to say is, 1.) I hope you haven't forgotten me kids. I know, I know, it's been a week since you've seen my ugly (cartoon) mug, but I swear, I still love you all the same and b.) my memory has always been crap. Mom, who? High school, what? Blogging, how? 

A week later and all my blogging muscles have atrophied. I stared at this blank, mocking square, not knowing where to start or what to say, but wanting to yell everything at it all at once.  

So really, I did the only logical things to get my creative bloggery juices flowing.

1. Watched YouTube videos. I fully intend on posting my findings on the music blog, but I just thought I'd let you know that this is what I need to be doing with my life. RIGHT?!

2.) I ate a bowl of cereal.

3.) I took Blackberry pictures (which I'll share in a second.)

I think I'm ready now.

Friday Roxanne had the day off of work. I'm not entirely sure why, other than when she started working at Daddytown she told them she had a crap-ton of days already booked and they were all, okay! Anyhow, she didn't actually have any plans and it didn't take much to convince me to call out of work and spend the day riding around town the way we used to when I was unemployed.

I think God, in all his awesome uh... God-likeness brought Pen, Rox and I together for many reasons. Pen and I talked about it a little, about how we met at a point of life transition. Also, though, we need to be friends because I don't know who else would shop with us. Basically, it goes a little something like this:

1.) Oooh and aaaahh over everything.

Rox: Look at that guy over there! He's cute. Imagine him with leggings, a sweater and strappy sandals.

Lor: Dude, look at that guy. He's nommy.

Rox: Yeah, you need him.

2.) Pile everything we like into our arms/shopping cart/bag/etc. If it's clothes, we'll try them on. We dress up in different outfits and come out and show each other, being as honest as we can be.

Lor: I can't wear this. I don't have enough torso.

Rox: *giggle* But I love this guy, with leggings and some noise makers!

3.) After traveling around the store for hours, freak out because you obviously don't have enough money for everything you've picked up.

4.) Play the "What Do We Need" game. Let me just apologize in advanced to all retail workers, because we suck and we're probably your worst nightmare. To play the what do we need game, you pick an empty, lonely aisle. Then, each participant takes a turn going through their stash of stuff asking, "Do I need this?"

Rox: Cotton balls yes, mascara yes, do I need this shirt?

Lor: Nah.

Rox: But it's so pretty! With leggings and heels...

Lor: Well, okay so get it.

Rox: But do I need it?

Lor... yes.

Rox: Right?!

All rejected items get stashed in the random aisle.

Lor: Here put this necklace next to the adult diapers. I don't need that.

And so after hours in one store, we may leave with 2-3 items.

See? Only Rox and Penny would put up with that ish.
From the above guide to shopping with us, and the accompanying sample dialogue you might have noticed two things: a.) Rox wants to wear everything with leggings. Honest. Ask her. and b.) We call everything "this guy." Every item for sale becomes a guy when we're shopping. It set up some rather interesting soundbytes Friday, that we kept catching, but we just can't seem to filter "this guy" out. Here were some of our favorites:

Rox: Hey, come feel this black guy.

(She wasn't sexually molesting a man of color, she was asking me to feel a soft, black make-up brush.)

Lor: I have this guy in my shower.

(I don't keep a man in there for personal reasons. I was referring to a shower organizer.)

Rox: Mmmm, this guy is creamy!

(I'm not going there. It was smoothie, okay, A SMOOTHIE.)

Lor: Hey, this guy comes in that guy!

(An eye shadow that I was innocently pointing out came in a larger pallete.)

Meet this guy, everyone. I think he's here to stay.

Saturday the best thing ever happened- Velveeta Crap Watches gave me my money. OH YES! Good job Crap Watches!
So, what's a girl to do when she's got a boatload of money she has little to no use for even though she took a whole day off to dedicate to the purpose of shopping?

SHOP. 

Us and the expensive shoes we fell in love with. Rox, Lor and Pen from left to right.

A closer look at the shoes Rox really, really loved. I have no comment.

We're sort of sad, huh? In the most adorable, best dressed and amazingly make-uped way.

As I was thinking about this entry, and what I spent a pretty sizable chunk of money on, I decided to see what items I could gather to show you.

Because apparently I needed FOUR brassy necklaces and a $20 eyeliner. 

There was a lot of food too. Including a 3 course menu thing at NOON. Who gave me money? No, seriously.

Other than that, dears, I've been buried under paper work. I'll be glad when things settle down at work so I can get back to a regular posting schedule.

Thirty Days of Truth

Day Eight

Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.

Ugh. Another iffy question. I can honestly say that no one's ever made my life hell. I'm so selective with people. I'm surrounded by a tight group of people who love and support me. I really don't tolerate anyone I don't like. I make that decision quickly and definitely. That has it's pros and cons, I'm sure, but for purposes of this question, it has ensured that no one has ever made my life hell.

Who's treated me like ish? I don't know why this is so hard for me. Maybe because it's sort of a severe level. People have certainly been mean to me in the past, but treated like crap? I can't even think. I've always been good at cutting out anyone who's threatened to give me ish, or I gave them equal if not more amounts of ish. Sigh. I don't know. Plus, crap memory and all.

I'm happy. I don't want to think about anyone who's been mean to me. :)

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Things are on the up and up. Having my car back has been magical. I finally paid off the deductible and I'm quite settled money wise. Things at home are calm. My heart has no owies.
And quite excited for September. My 24th birthday is in 11 days, and we're headed to Orlando. This weekend Pen, Ting Ting, Cali Tax, Vyelit and I will be heading to a Paramore concert. ♥!

Lots of catch up today. Less catch up tomorrow, I promise.

Hope your weekends and beginning of the week are as great as that guy.

♥
Lorraine

These Thirty Days are taking forever. See for yourself after the jump.