Look. September was basically a bullshit month in regards to my blog. My best posts this month were from last year or were guest posts on other blogs. The rest? Bloody boring, mostly photographs, did I really do a how-to and of course we can tie it all up with a bow with Lady Gaga.
Want a posty-post?

Maybe this one will turn out to be non-sucky but since it's another lame post about my garden it is likely to be bad. Sorry in advance. Stop reading it. Seriously. Check out the archives. There's some good stuff in there. Just not here.


Now it's September and the garden is totally out of control. The vines were taking over and pulling the four foot tall flowers in one direction or another. My garden was INTENSE. Jacob said that our flowerbed had mushrooms. That's a sign of too much moisture. #whatev.

I haven't blogged much this month (and I'm not about to start now).

Ave's eighteen month check-up is this afternoon so I suppose I'll blog about that. Maybe I'll take photos. Kids love having their picture taken while being poked at by a doctor, right?

I will be sure to list off all of the words Avery not only says but understands. Except for her newest phrase.....

"Oh shit."

Yeah. Her pediatrician has a sense of humor but I think we'll just keep that one in the family.

Wish us luck.

Fuck you, conservative politicians.

What I don't understand is why a person can't be openly gay in the military. It isn't like a gay person can marry (which is totally unfair) so how is a single gay enlistee different than a single straight or unidentified enlistee? Do they (they = THE MAN) think that a gay soldier is going to sneak around in the barracks and tickle the anuses of his battle buddies?

Is he or she somehow less capable of protecting our freedom because he or she is gay?

And really, why should he protect you when you won't protect him?

So the following is a video where Lady Gaga pretty much says what I want to say but since she said it I don't have to. So thanks, Gaga.

Over the weekend we went to a festival that had a free petting zoo for children (and I guess that an adult could go in there without a kid too but that might be weird. Weirdos). It wasn't the greatest petting zoo since the only animals you could really touch were the goats (but very cute goats!). Anyway, I haven't done a photo post in awhile so here you go:





Avery was so good around the animals. She moved slowly around them and when she wanted to get close she did it gradually because that's what you're supposed to do. Watching her interact with the goats made me feel kind of bad that we will NEVER get a pet. No, not even a dog. Definitely not a cat either. I know it's unusual for a vegan to not have a pet (let alone four of five) but I HATE having a pet. It isn't fun. Cleaning up after an animal is gross and the hair! Nasty. I hate pet hair. If I go to your house and politely decline when you invite me to sit on your dog-hair-covered sofa now you know why. I have allergies. I also wear a lot of black.

Jacob, Avery and I were on vacation with his family; his parents, extended family (people I had never seen before) and us were staying in a small town in Canada in a really old house that had been cosmetically updated. Basically? It was a maze and a piece of shit. The plumbing? Fucked up. I somehow stopped up the shower in our bathroom. Jacob was annoyed with me for this. I can't help it. I'm a hairball.

After a few days of miserable family bonding (I was really fucking uncomfortable) I had had enough. Everyone was sitting around as per usual and I was BORED. It was nighttime and I needed to get out of there as fast as possible.

No one was in our bedroom so I opened up the window and gracelessly crawled out. Freedom!

I ran down to the community "pool" that was closed for the night. It was more like a pond because you couldn't see the bottom and it wasn't a cement hole. It was dirt. So yeah. Totally not a pool. Canada, you kill me with your backwardness.

I took off my clothes and dove into the pond. Exhilarating! It was so freeing and the cold water didn't bother me. I was alone and the only sound was my giggling. After doggy paddling for a bit I got out and dove in again; I wanted to touch the bottom of the pond! I angled myself so that I would dive down instead of forward and off I went. It felt like I was under water for hours. Had time stopped? Was I going to drown? I held my breath but I couldn't hold it forever. Could I? This started to feel like a dream. Was I actually behaving this way?

Then my hands touched something hard and kind of round. It had a hole in it so I picked it up by the hole (that's what she said) and swam to the surface with it. There was a dim streetlight nearby so I held the object up to the light. It was a skull. Like, a human skull. Fuck. Had I just found some remains from a murder? I started to panic and wanted to cry but then I saw a tag on it. The skull wasn't even real. THANKFULLY. Just some rogue Halloween decoration. I dropped it back into the water for someone else to find and went back to swimming.

After a few more minutes of uninhibited bliss I looked up with a panicked racing heartbeat toward a car door slam. Fuck. Just a resident of a nearby house.

I decided to look around me and mad sure that no one was watching me and at the end of the street I saw a police car pulled up next to another police car. The officers in either car were talking with one another and didn't see me. I assumed. Their presence made me nervous and I certainly didn't want to get arrested for being naked in public in Canada. I slowly and quietly climbed out of this fabulous hole in the ground and opted to not crawl because I knew there was no way they could see me.

Where did I put my clothes? Oh yeah, on this bench under a fucking street light. Smooth, Lauren. I am not a ninja (and even if I were I wouldn't tell you) so without bothering to hide in the shadows in order to grab my clothes I just swiftly snatched them up and ran back toward the house. Then I saw the lights. Fucking cop saw my white ass and now I was going to jail for streaking through a neighborhood. Awesome.

I went back to the window that I came out of but I couldn't crawl back through so I ran to the back porch. It was enclosed and I prayed that the room that was seldom occupied would be empty so that I could get dressed.

Nope. Jacob's eighteen year old cousin with the dimples and muscles was sitting in a papasan chair reading. Shit. He looked up from his book and smiled while saying, "Are you okay? Do you need help?" I wanted to punch him in his cute face. I also kind of wanted to lick him. The fresh air had made me high and I wasn't thinking straight. I simply said, "Shhhhh" to him and got dressed. After locating my husband in our bedroom I told him that I went swimming in the pond and that it might have been against the law but I didn't think that anyone saw me. Yeah, I left out skinny dipping part. My clothes weren't wet and my husband's not stupid.

Jacob rolled his eyes at me. He was already frustrated with me for messing up the shower and for complaining about being bored. He was DONE. We went into the kitchen where his family had congregated and told them we would be leaving very early in the morning.

When very early rolled around we got in the car and headed home. Jacob was worried that the cops who saw me from the night before would recognize me (doubtful) so he told me to keep my head down. I laughed at this suggestion. It was night time! There is no way some dumb ol' cop is going to recognize daylight me from shadow me.

We sat at a stop light on the corner of whatever and who cares? streets and a police car pulls up next to us. I looked over and Jacob with panic in my face and then started to slide down in my seat but it was too late. The cop flipped on his lights and waved a flag for us to pull over once the light changed. I could tell that Jacob was pissed; we didn't have a lot of money and now we would have to pay a ticket for my being on private property blah blah blah. I wasn't worried about the money. I was certain that I was going to get arrested.

The cop made us all get out of the car and gathered us on the corner. He stood on a step ladder and said something in French as loud as he could so that the pedestrians could hear his speech. Seriously? Am I being sent to the gallows? The cop went for his handcuffs and I began to cry. I pleaded with him. "Don't send me to jail! My daughter needs me! Don't take me away!" The cop looked at my daughter who was in Jacob's arms and then back at me. He shrugged and put his cuffs away. The cop made me promise that I would never return to Canada ever again and let me go.


Y'all, that was the dream I had last night and I'm glad that I remembered it. I have never been to Canada and Jacob doesn't even have any male cousins (and if he did they would probably not be attractive). Weird. Oh, but I have been arrested.

I have a post up over at Room 704. Check it out.


The education of Lauren. Sort of.

You should also read the posts by the other party crashers. We're all kind of rad writers (it's okay to compliment yourself).

Speaking of collaborative blogs (oh shit, didn't you see this one coming? If you follow me on Twitter you did) I want to start one. I am looking for all types of bloggers (except for reviewers, because, well, that isn't real writing. It's just NOT) who can contribute at least one post per month. I don't plan on assigning a monthly topic unless we all agree that having one is better than not. I am thinking that ten regulars and whoever wants to guest post whenever they feel like will give us enough posts to remain relevant and not look like slackasses.

The collaborative blog will be YOUR place to write about shit that you can't blog about on your own blogs for whatever reason. Also, having another home for your writing is kind of nice. Especially if I run it because well, I'm fucking rad.

I just used the word rad AGAIN. Twice in one post. Keep it up, Lauren. You moron.

What do you think? If you are interested leave me a comment with your email address. Ya know, make it all spaced out so you don't get spammed by the turds who spam people's email.

This is going to rock! And if it doesn't I totally blame YOU.

I wrote this post last year and since the story is the same but my audience has changed I figured I would re-post it.


I try to add some humor to my posts (and fail 94% of the time) but since the following is about September 11, 2001 it will be joke-free. Unless I'm a classless individual and let one slip.

First of all, I usually write with the TV on and the baby babbling either in my lap or on the floor but I have eliminated these distractions for this post. Okay, the TV is paused and the baby is swinging. I didn't eliminate the baby permanently for fuck's sake.

Okay, I couldn't even get into the meat of the post without crackin' wise. IntegrityFAIL.

I was eighteen years old in 2001. It was one of the roughest years of my life. My depression was warping me into a monster. I'd already had a crisis (or what my mother labeled as a crisis at the time but as a much wiser adult now I realize just how bad I got) and even after I got on medication I still couldn't get out of bed in the morning. Since I was not home schooled this obviously was a hindrance to me graduating from high school. So I didn't. What a shining moment in my parents' lives that must have been. Anyway, I was spiraling out of control and was eventually kicked out of my mother's house. I stayed with my dad but that was awful too so I did whatever I could to avoid being there. I wanted to escape. I hated my life.

In August I met Scott. He came along at the perfect time because I was drowning and he pulled me out of the water and wrapped me up in a fluffy warm towel. Yep, that was Scott. He himself was not fluffy. The Navy and his rigid upbringing left him devoid of showing emotions but I always knew that he cared about me. We were dating for a very short time before I moved in with him. He quit his job before I met him and was living on his savings. I don't know why he quit. It's irrelevant. So both of us were unemployed and therefore spent all of our time together. My parents liked him. He took me off their hands. They no longer had to be responsible for me.

Scott and I were still sleeping that morning when my mom called around 10:30am. We always stayed up late watching movies or having sex and there was no reason to wake up early so we didn't. I answered my phone and without saying hello first she said "I just want you guys to know that we're okay. We decided to stay in this morning and not go sight-seeing." My mom and her husband were visiting his family in Virginia and had planned on touring Washington DC that morning. I had no idea what she was talking about. Of course they'd be okay. Was she losing her mind? Then she told me to get my ass out of bed and turn on the television.

Rock. Bottom.

I sat in front of the television in my pajamas all day. Scott and I didn't really talk much that day. We didn't know what to say. And whatever we said - would it even matter?

That evening we went for a walk and saw a police car patroling the apartment complex. At that moment I felt safer than I had felt in a long time. The world was quiet. I knew that tomorrow was going to rip open the wound again but tonight was calm.

Surprisingly I didn't have any nightmares about it but I remember praying so hard that I would get hot and flushed and start to cry. I didn't know anyone that had been injured or killed in the crashes nor did I know anyone that knew anyone that was there. I was lucky. I was far away in my Texas town sitting on my sofa. I wasn't breathing in ashes trying to get as far away from Ground Zero as possible. I wasn't buried under rubble. I wasn't frantically calling loved ones making sure that everyone was okay.

I was on my sofa. Like I am now. Far from being face to face with what happened. I think that for me that's probably a good thing. I'm so sensitive that something like that would make my head explode from anxiety.

So..... that's my 9/11 post. I almost said 'obligatory 9/11 post' but I didn't feel obligated to write it. I felt compelled. Everyone has a story about what happened that day. There are a billion different points of view for a single series of events that changed our lives forever.

Since I stopped nursing it is inevitable that my period will be returning any day now and while I don't look forward to it I must admit that its appearance every month is reassuring. I haven't had a period since May 2008; for those of you who suck at math that's over two years free from tampons, pads and the occasional accident. In fact, dear readers, I don't even OWN a box of tampons. I must have tossed them out when we moved into the house in December. I have some giant super-duper-could-have-soaked-up-the-oil-spill pads from the hospital (you still bleed even if you have a c-section! Fun fact!) but I wouldn't wear those unless it was a crazy heavy flow day and I didn't plan on going anywhere because obviously I'd be rocking granny panties and sweatpants that day.

I am fearful of the return of the period. This means that I will have resumed ovulating so hubby and I will have to be more careful to avoid getting pregnant before we're ready to start trying for baby number two. Will it come back heavier than before? I didn't have cramps before but will I start getting them?

The reason that I am thinking about my period is because I was a total bitch to Jacob today. My shitty attitude and moodiness resembled PMS and has me thinking that my period must be about to start. I would rather it wait until I get back from vacation on the 11th but I realize that I don't have control over it. I should. I mean, it's MY body, right?

I digress.

There are many rad things about being a chick (I can immediately think of at least one: boobs!) but this? Fucking sucks. I got my period when I was thirteen years old and my two best friends had already had theirs for awhile. I was a late bloomer but not by much. I guess my parents were feeding me more organic food than theirs (sarcasm, but not really). ANYWAY I wore tampons from the get-go. Pads were for prudes and I knew I was still a virgin even if I used a tampon. Oh, the myths that some girls have about periods. Teenage girls are fucking stupid.

Wanna hear a story? Yeah ya do!

My junior year of high school was a banner year for me (what a fucking lame cliche). I finally found my niche: I was the WEIRD ONE but everyone liked me. I tried getting away with having pink hair at school and I dressed in a style that could be described as vintage rocker chick. I wasn't cool but I wasn't a fucking loser either. I stood out in a good way and didn't draw negative attention to myself.

You see where this is going, yes?

One day during literature class I felt it. I had a heavier flow that I anticipated and my tampon couldn't hold all of it. I didn't have a liner on because I hate those things and that day I chose to wear a skirt. It was heather grey and well, yeah. BLOOD. I didn't know how badly I had leaked so I asked to go to the restroom to assess the mess and clean myself up.

Holy shit. There was a dark red spot on the back of my skirt four inches in diameter. I was mortified. I knew that everyone in my class had seen me get up and leave the room and it was obvious that this was blood and not piss or ink from a busted pen or mud. Blood. Hey, world, I'm menstrating! Check me out! I had a jacket on so after I cleaned myself up (it felt like I had been in the bathroom for an hour) I tied the jacket around my waist and returned to class. No one said anything to me about it (thankfully) and when I went to sit down I noticed that there was a little blood on my seat. Fuck. Just sit down, Lauren. Everyone knows you're on your period.

After class was over I ran to the locker room and changed into my dance clothes. Sure, they were a little musty but you know what? They didn't look like I had swiped them from a crime scene.

So yeah. Menstral cycle? BRING IT ON. I'm not ready for you but you don't give a fuck anyway.

Good morning! Sorry for the delay in getting this post up. I got a life, yo. No. That's a lie. I actually have been incredibly lazy and have piles of laundry on the sofa to prove it (no, I'm not going to show you a photo of my inability to stay on top of house work).


I feel like I need to give you some type of disclaimer in regards to coloring your hair a non-mainstream color. Basically kids will point at your hair and their parents will wait til you're out of earshot to tell their children how stupid it looks. HOWEVER, those people are assholes because you will look awesome. Remember: you are doing this for you and not them.

So let's get started!! The most important steps in the preparation. You do NOT want that shit staining your bathroom countertop. And look, a bulleted list!

• Cellophane
• Gloves
• Disposable bowl (or whatever bowl you want to use, the shit DOES wash off)
• coloring brush
• Lotion
• Crappy tee shirt (preferably black)
• Baby wipes
• All-purpose cleaner (Bleach works the best but I don't use bleach and you shouldn't either)
• And of course your bottle or bottles of hair color

Clean off your workspace. Clutter is bad and you don't want to get hair dye on your soap dispenser or blow dryer, do you? Once your counter is clean cover it in cellophane. Seriously. Even if you are really careful you will still splatter. Put on your crappy tee shirt (duh). Apply lotion to your ears, forehead and the back of your neck. Some people use Vaseline but that shit is hard to wash off so I use lotion.

Put on your gloves and put the color mixture into the bowl.

Step two: No turning back!!

This is the fun part! Use your coloring brush and apply the color all over. Try to keep it off of your scalp because the color will temporarily stain your scalp. I usually don't both with avoiding my scalp. I'm hardcore like that.

Make sure you evenly distribute the dye. Once you get it all over your head you can ditch the brush and massage the rest of it into your hair. Pull your hair back and secure it with a clip. If you get any of it on your skin just use a baby wipe. It should come right off.

1. Special Effects is the BEST. Hot Topic used to sell it in their stores but now I think it's only available online. They offer twenty-four colors including three different shades of pink.
2. Paul Mitchell Inkworks is what I rocked at BlogHer. It smelled really good too. This is only available online and in Paul Mitchell salons. It's the most expensive on the list at $20 per bottle but it comes with a lot.
3. Manic Panic is the most commonly used hair dye for bright colors. It's easy to find and use. It's vegan and it doesn't cost much. However, it also doesn't last as long.
4. RAW is the Hot Topic brand of hair dye and it's decent but the price isn't worth the product.

If you dye your hair a bright color I want to see it! Leave a comment with the link to the photo. Enjoy!