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Archive for August, 2013|Monthly archive page

The Rough Road of the Memoir

In memoir, Uncategorized, writing on August 27, 2013 at 2:53 am

I just wrote 3 additional pages to my memoir tonight. I am close to finally finishing my baby, and I have been working on this for a long time.

People wonder why it takes so long, yet this isn’t fiction. I am not dealing with characters from my mind or imagination. If I were, I could treat them with a different perspective and emotional stance, but since I am writing my own story, it is a whole different ball game.

Tonight I was working on a section that covered a sad and dark time in my life, and after three pages, I just couldn’t keep going for the night. It is not always fun to write about these things so honestly, yet I feel in order for the book to be authentic and worthwhile in a literary fashion, I have to be distant enough to provide a perspective that I didn’t have while in the actual situation. And even though I am more than distant from the scenario I wrote about, since I am having a bad day, I find it hard to face the page for extended periods of time.

One of the things I love about doing comedy is that I can take dark moments and make light (er) of them. It is a refreshing break for me, and provides me with a different medium in which to be artistic. It also makes me happy, usually, although I sometimes find the atmosphere of comedy to not be so awesome.

Writing a book however, is such a mentally and emotionally fulfilling project, but it is one that takes time.

You need to have space from yourself in order to craft a memoir that can really bring depth, humor, and honesty, in my opinion.  From the first day I started until now, I can tell you that I have finally learned what the real heart of the book is, and where the meat of my story is. If someone asked me years ago to write a book jacket for my upcoming memoir, I would have panicked. Now that I have spent  a great deal of time writing this book along with more time and perspective, that book jacket doesn’t seem so daunting.

I know the story so intimately not only because it is my own, but because I have spent so much time crafting it, that I know what is it that needs to be told, and for the most part, what doesn’t.

But on days when I am feeling sad or doubtful, it is hard to face the page with the same expertise and skill that I normally have.

This project has been such a big deal to me, and I cannot wait to have it published, and it will be.

There is no try, only do.

How to Treat a Woman: Women 101 for Dummies, aka, everyone without a vagina

In love, Uncategorized on August 27, 2013 at 1:48 am

Okay, so I don’t mean to offend my lovely male readers, of whom I have quite a lot, so just know that you are all the exception to the dummy rule. Clearly, there are bright and brilliant men in this world as much as there are ones who are not. However with that said, I have devised an amazing set of strategies, tips, and other goodies for the XY individual who is interested in keeping a woman around, while also managing to be sane. We can be a handful, but we deserve to be loved properly. Read my tips and find fulfillment, love, and/ or reasons to jump off a cliff.

Trust in me, as I wouldn’t steer you wrong.

That would cost me way too much in legal fees.

I can pretty much guarantee that somewhere in these amazing gems of mine heh heh, you will find pearls of wisdom that you will find unfathomable to live without.

#1- But She Loves the Assholes

Ever met a woman who really likes jerks? You know, the kind that would like to be shaken rather than held? The woman who pines away after the man who stole her pocketbook, slept with her sister, and told her she was ugly?

These women are not convert-able. She will never love a nice man until she gains self-esteem. You are best left holding her hand, rather than sharing her bed. She will dump you if you are an inch nice, and if you are a douchebag, you are simply propagating her self-esteem issues, which is messed up.

#2 The Aloof Woman

She will feign interest in you at times, and others she will bite her nails greedily while thinking of some other conversation in her head, ignoring your deep passionate diatribe on group sports.

This fickle lady is really not worth a lot of your time.

Just ignore her. She’s just not that into you.

#3 The Dropped Hints

We women like to drop hints. We tell you things we like…things we are interested in doing or seeing…in the hopes that somewhere in the verbal comprehension sections in your brain, smushed next to the dominant sphere of visual sightings, that you will pick up that we want you to take us or give us, or do these things with us together. We want to ask you, but we are afraid of rejection. We hope that like us, you are detail-oriented enough ( a real stretch) to realize that it would mean so much to us if you would simply pay attention and notice the little things we like.

It means more to us than you having a big paycheck.

So if she mentions that she loves chocolate, the MOMA, or hiking, try integrating these into dates. It shows you are paying attention and young man, we like to give A’s for those sorts of things.

Fact is, men remember stuff they care about. If a guy never picks up on these hints or remembers things about you, he doesn’t give a shit or has had severe brain trauma, in which case, he should be forgiven.

#4 And she looks good

A woman may dress up for her female friends, but if she is around you and looks very presentable/sexy/cleaned up, she wants you to tell her she looks nice.

Is it really that hard?

Readers say,”Yes, Laura. Men make ineffective or minimal to no comments despite our long efforts to look good.”

Have you ever smushed two pieces of flesh between wire all day?

Have you clamped your eyelashes down in an attempt to make them longer?

Have you ever done wishful lip-glossing, a method first noted in the film Pretty In Pink in which a girl reapplies lipstick as she fretfully waits for her date’s arrival?

No. You are men. You shave. Maybe. You dress yourself.

Your balls are not sore from underwire.

You have never gone home with blisters from high heels, unless of course you are a cross-dresser, which is cool by me.

So damnit, say something! Tell her she looks good. She’s not binding her feet for you, but she went to a whole lot of trouble for your sorry butt.

Notice her.

#5 Go Somewhere

It is unfair but often true, that dudes pay for dates. In long-term relationships or marriages, not as much, but men bear the brunt of financial responsibility when it comes to dates.

That said, not every dude is rolling in the dough.

Before you go and tie yourself to a train track, realize that women are okay with this as long as you aren’t living with your mother—unless in a special circumstance of course. Money cannot buy love.

But before you ask her to just watch the cars whizz by, take her out somewhere. For a walk…to the beach…movies. Coffee Shop. The Corner. Wherever.

Just make a damn effort. Men can be so lazy and while it can be attractive laying around with you, we women want men to make some effort.

We are not expecting miracles. We don’t even mind a homecooked meal of Ramen Pride. It’s the effort and not the product that counts.

Take some time, and we are easily pleased beyond what you think.

Bonus Tip: If you wait too long to ask her out, or amble on for a long time between seeing her, she is probably going to move on.

#6 One in a Million

If you are going out with a bunch of chicks, tell her. Don’t be a douche and play around. She may never know, but chances are one day, some girl will find out, and you will end up very sorry, potentially with your balls in a vice grip.

If you are committed and doing this, the possibilities of torture are endless.

I think being honest gives a woman a chance to leave if she doesn’t want to be one in your pack of cards.

Most people want to feel special… and not like the soup of the day, so be honest that you’ve got a lot of flavors please. For all you know she may be totally okay with that, and even seeing a bunch of guys herself. It’s just good to be honest.

#7  Short brief phrases

When a person with breasts and ovaries starts to break into brief snippets of language…when she gets terse and quiet, you are basically in deep, deep shit.

You are in such deep shit.

You are probably on the verge of being potentially poisoned.

Okay, no seriously though when a woman is upset she may be afraid to tell you so instead, she starts to shut down and respond briefly in order to contain her real feelings.

Your best method is to either give her time to cool down, or in my opinion, ask her what you have done wrong to hurt her, because there’s a good chance you have hurt her feelings pretty terribly.

As direct as I am, sometimes I am afraid to admit I am upset because it makes me feel vulnerable, and I hate that.

Go easy solider.

#8 Wishy Washy

You may like a woman, but you might be unsure about her. Part of you may want her…and the other part may be reluctant. This can happen if you’ve been hurt a lot or if you’re just a flaky person, but here are some techniques to deal with this and expectations.

–try spending some more time with the woman in order to determine why you are wishy washy. Are you fearful of being burned? Are you unsure if you like her?

Spending more time will help you get to the answer.

–you can try backing away also but recognize that you run the risk of losing out totally.

Wishy Washy dudes: women may like you at first, but eventually we leave you. Eventually we are sick of waiting for you to get on board. When we leave you, you all seem to regret it, yet some dudes never learn their lessons.

If you’re not sure if she’s the one for you, expect she will find someone else, and not look back.

This is the risk of being indecisive.

#9 Oh So Quiet

If a woman is very quiet, you may need to be patient when getting to know her. You might need to ease up and not be too pushy. Ask her out, but give her some time. She has plenty to say, she’s just deciding if you are worth the risk.

#10 The Bitchy Friends

If a girl has a lot of bitchy friends, just steer clear. Underneath that sweet exterior is an animal in the making. There’s nothing wrong with being assertive, but this woman might just eat you for breakfast simply because she can!

#11 The Body Talk

When you see her naked for the first time, rejoice! Rejoice not only because you are about to get some, but also because this woman decided to reveal her body to you. She chose you, you lucky thing. Body issues run rampant in women. I have heard 12-year old girls saying they feel fat. The world is fucked up. Women are suffering as a whole, so no matter how hot, fat, thin, curvy, or unique her body is, praise it!

Tell her how beautiful she is, and name the things you like. Let her know that you value the fact that she is letting you see her naked. This is not to be taken lightly.

It doesn’t matter if you are married or dating, don’t take advantage and assume she already knows because if you do, she may leave you for someone more attentive, and guess what? I wouldn’t blame her.

#12 Invest in Us. Tell us Your Secrets

I think the worst thing a partner had ever told me in my romantic life was that he really didn’t need me for anything.

People want to be needed. Sure, there are the few heartless soul suckers who don’t care, but most people want to be needed. Tell her things about yourself and your passions if you want to be close to her. Let her help you if she wants to help with something. Put your faith in her. Make her feel as if she is needed by you.

#13 The Anxious Girl, Written by the Original Anxious Girl

We talk a lot when we are nervous. We stumble over what we say. We second-guess ourselves at times. We are wondering if you care, and when you say nothing, we pull away for fear of being hurt.

Be nice to the Anxious Girl. She puts her heart out, yet as she does this, she is afraid, and aren’t we all? Aren’t we all afraid to be hurt? It is the most painful thing in the world, this thing called love.

Let her chat away, and eventually she will slow down and feel at ease. If you’re a good listener and a decent guy, she will feel at home right away.

Well kids, this may have been the least sarcastic and most helpful list to date.

I have been through a lot and really hope that some poor sucker can learn about the complicated dealings of females from me.

If I keep one of you from being dumped or left, I have done my job as a citizen.

If a couple bangs happily in the night tonight, at least I can know I have done my part and someone is getting off properly.

Cheers!

Men are Simple.

In Uncategorized on August 24, 2013 at 3:27 am

Lately I see a lot of women in my life questioning the men in their lives, and often with good cause. Men say women are complicated, and dare I say it, I agree, although we must be careful to not pigeonhole people by gender. Some women are simple and some men are complicated dudes We women are socialized to be so nice and polite, yet when our feelings conflict with these socialized norms, we experience conflict, and don’t often say what we think.

Consider the common phrases like “Whatever,” or ” It doesn’t matter,” when you can damn well tell that it sure as hell does matter. I know many women who are sometimes afraid to say what they think, so there is a disconnect between action and emotion that men then have to interpret. They tell you, “whatever,” when what they really mean is, “I am so upset right now!” There are a billion Facebook memes about this female communication strategy that rarely works, if you ask me, but then again, I am a direct woman. Ask and you shall receive the blatant truth.

Men–in my experience and of course, not all men will fall into this category as we are all individuals with varied characteristics,–are simple folk.

I see friends and family–and myself at times, questioning male behavior, but to me, the basic primitive communication skills of the average male is pretty cut and dry.

So instead of paying the big bucks to read some book about men, here are my general tips. You can thank me later or send me money…or a cleaning guy who also strips. That would certainly be handy.

1- If he likes you, he will call you. Or text you.

Men hunt for what they want. If they want you, they will contact you. They want to secure their desired object.

Moral of story? If he doesn’t contact you, he doesn’t like you.

Exception: if he only contacts you late at night when he is drunk, he only likes your vagina.

2- He is not being coy. He isn’t into you.

If a guy says it is over or he doesn’t want a relationship than there is no way you will convince him otherwise. It doesn’t matter if you have five vaginas, or twenty hands. It’s done or it wasn’t about to begin in the first place.  He isn’t struggling to express himself woman, he told you exactly what he means.

The caveman was simple and direct. If he says it, he probably means it.

Exception: if he is mentally ill, he may want a relationship with you still, but be wary of a dude on heavy meds.

3-Guys solve problems.

Guys like to solve problems. Listening to you ramble about a fight with your girlfriend is not exactly a fun time for an XY. He likes to solve problems rather than commiserate over them. Accept this and you will learn to appreciate the various solutions a gentleman will offer you. It’s a sign of care that he wants to help, even if you want him to shut up and listen.

4- Men are visual–mostly.

When a man is confused, draw a picture. If he is mad at you, wear something x-rated. Plead your case well, but do it in a visual manner.

Exception: if he is color blind, watch the color choices in your “attire.” If he is blind, don’t draw him a picture. Scream in his ear.

5- I have no freaking clue about men. I wrote this list up to prove how little I know about men. Men of the world are all laughing at me and my diatribes. I have now led women to destruction, and no one will ever date or love or marry again.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyway.

Heart on Sleeve, Foot In Mouth

In Uncategorized on August 24, 2013 at 3:04 am

I am in my thirties. I am capable of change, but not capable of transforming myself into some other person. No one probably really is. A quiet person is not going to become loud most likely, although I’ve never ran any stats on the matter.

I know who I am, but sometimes I wish I were a little different, although then I would probably be dull and boring, or possibly easily satisfied. I will never know.

I am heart on the sleeve, and foot in the mouth. I say what I feel, I show all my cards, and rarely will I play a hand in some crafty way when dealing with people. I wish I had the ability to play it cool, or just be a distant bitch sometimes, but guess what, apparently I am the sensitive romantic type and so that means I am all poetry and passion, rather than strategy and logic.

I recognize that thanks to my lust for life and people, I am a fun person to be around and very loving, but sometimes, when I am feeling particularly vulnerable or afraid, I curse this gift I have.  I wish I could stealthily hide my thoughts and heart, because so many people take advantage of this whether they be female or male, friend or stranger.

It’s a weakness to be nice. It’s a weakness to be passionate or emotional. It must be related to being crazy or female, oh yeah…that whole stereotype that drives me nuts. Don’t even get me on that rant.

I wish it were more valued to be a warm and passionate person. Without people like me, there would be no poetry, no tasteful erotic movies, no music, no art, and pulse.

Yes, I am not a bitch. I remember passing by a book at Barnes and Nobles when I was in my twenties called, “Men love Bitches,” and instead of picking up the book I thought to myself, “I am doomed.”

Sure, I can ream someone out when need be, but I am not a bitch. I am not cold. I am not the one planning your death while shaking your hand. I am the one who wants to be your friend. Who smiles at strangers and offers to help. Who puts her heart out and hopes that it indeed, won’t get smushed, yet so often it is.

I wish sometimes to be that bitchy woman that apparently exists in the universe, but I never will be.

My identity through the eyes of men: Female Otherness

In Uncategorized on August 10, 2013 at 2:25 am

As a woman who grew up in a predominately female household, I didn’t learn that we were inferior or incapable of doing things that society indicated was otherwise.

But as I left my home and became integrated into society–school,  work, college, etc, I learned differently.

To admit this is maybe weak but, for a long majority of my life I have defined myself by Men. By their standards, judgments, and beliefs about me. Or about my otherness in relation to them. My wanting access to the circle that only men belong to. Forget about the glass ceiling. I didn’t want to be the most successful female. I wanted to be the most successful person, period. I wanted the men to lay in their tears while I threw tissues to them on the ground, walking away in triumph.

One thing I have hated since I was as  young as seven years old, was the feeling that the male circle was impenetrable. I hated when boys gathered to talk and gossip or dominated classroom conversations. I wasn’t considering that these little men might just want to be around other little men, but that because I was female I couldn’t join in. It didn’t matter that I was smarter than most of them or as equal to them, or that the same jokes they liked, I did too. I just had to merely squeak by the circle, and lean in to hear what these XY’s were saying.

Then I got older, and then the circle got even tighter. When I was younger, an occasional boy would let me in, and even let me play sports with the kids on the block. As I got older though, the message was clear: If you don’t have a cock,  keep out. Having good looks occasionally meant entering into the circle, but usually then for other reasons such as, one man or a few men’s sexual needs. Maybe one or two might have found me clever and smart. Most were not considering me beyond what my appearance had to offer.

I imagine my experience is no different than many other women, however the thoughts, rejections, and acceptances from men really whittled me down. For the majority of my  early twenties, I found male attention and approval intoxicating on the level of addicting, and their rejection, painful and harsh.

When I entered stand-up, I found men to be either wonderful and helpful, or absolute toxic creatures who liked to shut me out of conversations with not just looks, but with words. Telling me I wasn’t smart  and wasn’t funny. These were the same men of course, who wanted to sleep with me.

Let’s not let the cute one succeed. Instead, let’s take her for all of her good parts, and throw the rest of her to the wolves.

The one moment of fresh air came when I entered college. While my former educational experiences taught me that the boys are more cherished and nurtured intellectually, college was a bit more fair and egalitarian. I felt like my intellect and potential mattered.

There have been many times in my life pre-30’s in which I let men decide where I would be allowed to go both personally, and professionally. I cowed to their toxic comments. I backed away at times when I wanted to be treated as an intellectual and artistic equal, yet I always had a bit of a fight in me, like a scrappy dog who refuses to get beaten down by a shinier, larger full-breed.  The same girl who wanted to beat every boy competitively, not physically, in elementary school has always been alive and well.

After spending a long time–years–working on my memoir, I realize that claiming my identity and refusing to let it be defined by anyone, especially men was my big hurdle to cross.

After six years departing from comedy, I went back last night. I went back because I will not let men tell me what I can do or who I can be. I am not 25 anymore. I am not someone’s plaything or some stupid blonde.

I am me, and after taking the time to do other important things–reproduce, finish college, get my head together–I decided I wanted to share my story in more than just the printed word again, and I won’t shut up until someone enjoys me. Until someone figures out that my story is much like many other women and people.

And if anyone doesn’t like it, F-off.

I am woman. Hear me roar.

Now? The 30’s have told me

Signs You Were a Messed Up Teenager

In mental health, trauma recovery, Uncategorized on August 3, 2013 at 1:29 am

Parents. People of the general Public. Strangers who don’t know me and might give a F%$k.

If you want to know if your teenager is messed up or if you may have been messed up, read my blog detailing signs that indicate true issues and indicators of neuroses, et. al.

Note: I do not have a psychology degree. Just 60 credits of psychology, and 60 years of therapy.

If you are still not sure, seek mental help or ask your parents to remind you of how badly they screwed you up. If you still need more clarity and happen to be married, I can assure you.

You were messed up.

Sign #1: Hanging out with Total Dirtbags

I had quite a few jerks I hung out with. Most of these individuals were overage, and had no business hanging out with someone my age. One dude looked like a washed-up, receding hairline version of Meatloaf. His friend was worse. ZZ Top with a pit-stained wifebeater, handlebar mustache, and dirty acid washed Wrangler Jeans.

Need I say more?

If your kid or you are hanging out with total degenerates, chances are you’ve got low-self-esteem.

Thank me later when you’re knee-deep in psychoanalysis.

#2 Dropping Acid Alone

If you were taking drugs by yourself or your kid is, chances are there are some major issues. Drugs are more fun when taken with others I imagine, but I guess I was so depressed taking acid alone became a good idea.

Add ten bonus points and at least an extra three years in therapy if your kid or you took drugs alone while listening to morbid music.

#3 Sign you are Messed up: Low Standards

If your idea of true love was some guy not kicking, hitting, or berating you and calling you a whore, your standards were pretty low. If a guy gave you a simple hug and you fell in love with him on the spot, you had or have, issues.

If You have a complicated relationship with your dad, you earn one antidepressant and at least three family therapy sessions along with your twelve plus years of psychoanalysis.

#4 Signs you were messed up: If You Dressed ugly, but thought it was cute

If you wore some dark depressing clothes or gave yourself some retarded haircut because you felt it would “relate” your true inner self, you were probably a depressed and messed up teenager.

Add one trip to the dreaded psychiatrist if you cut yourself.

#5 Signs You were a Messed Up Teenager

If your sexual partners were over the age of 18 and you were under the age of 15, sign yourself into a mental hospital or “day spa.”

Do Not Pass Go.

I hope these signs help you or help someone you love.

Actually, if you are reading this blog and can say you have all five signs, we should just get together and start group therapy.

Actually, if you are reading this blog and have all five signs, and are still alive and kicking, damnit, you deserve a beer and a hug.

Teenagers: It gets better. It does. It does if you want it to. No individual can decide your fate. Only you can. People tried to bring me down, and damn did I live in the muck for awhile, but look at me now.

I special.

I smart.

I purty.

Well, I’m not uber-purty, but I clean up well.

xox

With Chocolate,

L

Thanks to the Age of the Pinterest and DIY Mom, we average wives are in danger..

In marriage, parenthood, Uncategorized on August 1, 2013 at 5:44 pm

I check out numerous pages, blogs, and social media sites to see mommies and wives who cook everything from scratch. Every toy is hand-built. Nothing is made in China.

While I strive to avoid unhealthy food and junk ( I’m insane about avoiding processed stuff and juice –only for a treat), I am not a DIY mommy truly. I try to DIY and love/insist on keeping the television off and expanding on pretend play, but I am not a Pinterest Mommy. I am not  DIY mommy.

Some of the most mouth-watering foods and recipes are posted by the best mom cooks and chefs.

I’m starting to feel envious.

I would love one of these moms to be my wife.

All I need is for you to cook and never complain. Be sure to clean up after your cooking projects. Don’t leave any dirty dishes in the sink. When you’re done doing the cooking, might you make a bunch of toys and play objects for my kid to play with? Because you’re my Pinterest Wife, and that’s what wives do.

I will sit here and do what I do best. Educate, Enact a billion character voices. Teach my kid how to sing. Read to her. Teach her how to count in French and what the words cavort, cajole, and charm mean.

The Pinterest Wives of the World are making the regular wives and moms look bad. It’s like the PTA mother of the year on steroids:

The PTA mom brought cupcakes, stayed home, and never yelled.

The Pinterest DIY mom caters full events, makes all toys, keeps a clean house, never yells, never picks her nose when anyone is looking or flirts with younger men, and always darns her husband’s socks.

The Pinterest DIY mom can afford to stay home and buy everything organic, including organic band-aids. Hell, the DIY mom makes her own damn band-aids. Her husband goes to work daily with a homemade meal, and for every holiday event at work, he brings a full-spread, courtesy of DIY mom.

When I make dinner every night, I clap for myself.

When I have taught my daughter how to draw Charlie Brown, I cheer.

These moms and wives are making the regular folks like me, an endangered species. Pretty soon, no one is going to want to befriend us on the playground, and our husbands will leave us for more crafty types who make their own clothes, paint their nails with homemade nailpolish, and even furnish and decorate the house like a professional.

The average woman will be home in fear that she will be ridiculed for her store-bought polish, average home, and half-assed crock pot dishes.

Instead of being alone on the swings and divorced because I can’t make homemade pie crust, I’ve decided to enlist one of you DIY moms for my very own.

I promise to water you, but I will never feed you.

You can make your own damn food.

Signed,

A mom who likes to make brownies from the package, and flirt with the young guys at the pizza place, in no particular order.