two things i never thought i'd do in a car...

1) Take a nap, while the car is running and sitting on a very well-populated freeway.

2)...
Let me preface by saying that 7 hours trapped inside of a vehicle can do funny things to a girl. Horrible things. Four inches of snow fell on Seattle, and the town went ape shit. Semis and buses were strewn across the freeways, cars slid out of control, lanes were blocked, cars abandoned on the side of the road, babies cried for their mothers, chaos, catastrophe, etc, etc.

Shitty things: this was the day I had a rental car, so I could not enjoy the ridiculously frivolous amenities my yuppie ass has grown accustomed to, like heated seats and satellite radio. And I'd left my phone charger in my car (which was getting serviced (sounds like my Jetta was off getting a BJ)), so my only form of entertainment (besides FM radio) was slowly being drained of battery-powered life. And. Most importantly. No snacks were to be had! The one day I didn't bring any turned out to be the one day I looked around me, approximately 3 hours into my 25 mile commute, ravenous, and thinking horrifying thoughts like, "Should I start rationing my water? How much longer could this possibly take? I might die here..."

Benificial things: the rental car had a full tank of gas, whereas my car was probably down to less than 1/3 of that. So it was actually fortuitous. If I'd had my car, I may have had to leave her on the side of the road after the gas ran dry. Let's hear it for silver lining!

Gross things: it's incredibly uncomfortable to sit for hours on end, with no dinner, and with a full bladder which is (at best) the size of a walnut. What's a girl to do in a situation like that? I seriously - seriously - considered hopping out and popping a squat in the middle of I-5 to make some yellow snow. Couldn't bring myself to do it. What I could finally convince myself to do? Grab my tupperware from lunch, stick it under my girl parts, and urinate while in the driver's seat. It was the only option. And I would totally do it again.

Sweet relief. You can't put a price on it.

holy flying time, batman

Sometimes, days crawl like slugs across a steaming Texas road. And other times, months pass in a flash, like a wink from an ok cutie, and then suddenly, the pacific northwest summer you'd been so looking forward to is gone and you're all, holy shit it's fall already and I remember when it was last October and I was impatiently awaiting the arrival of a certain quebecois and omg omg I'm so in lurrrv and I dunno what I'm doing with my life, where should I go next?? And then you reassess your life, and realize that while you're much more comfortable and settled, you still have no fucking clue what's going on, you still feel like you're 10 years younger than you are, and while most days are happy and amazing, there's an overall somewhat disturbing tone to your perception of the world, and it's unnerving that time has been flying like so.

Is it because you're turning 30 in a couple of months?

Is it because of yet another existential dilemma that's been hanging out on the back burner that you just can't shake?

Is it because everywhere you visit (Vancouver, Chicago) you want to live, and everyone you meet (Jude Law look-alike, adorable Asian girlfriend) you want to marry and everything you do (tai chi in the park, biking through Chicago at night) you want to be doing forever and ever, though you know you can't and won't and it just kills you that you can't have it all?

So, question for you, internets: how do you slow it all down and figure out how the fuck to calm down about it all?

big girl panties

Some developments in the world of Vernaculauri:

1. It appears that I'm nesting. Making my place a bit cozier and homey-er. Like a grown up, maybe? Painting some walls, planting some plants, and contemplating wall art and curtain-hanging.
2. I'm having a meeting with a realtor this week about the possibility of maybe finding a condo, one of these days, in like a year, when I can afford that kind of thing.
3. I finally set up a wireless router. Now I can poop while on the internets, if I was so inclined. And that is true freedom.

operation: lauri gets her act together

1. Sober up. The Summer of Binging has ended. Knocking a few back on the weekends or the occasional weekday happy hour is cool. But no more boozing on a regular basis. Liver says, "stop it now, lemme breathe!"
2. Get those hips to moving and shaking again. Girl gettin laaaazy.
3. Painted walls + hanging some curtains + cooking more at home = coziness, homey-ness, and happiness.
4. Return to that mantra that starts with a "re" and ends with a "lax." Neuroticism looks tacky on you. Homegirl needs to just breathe and let it flow.
5. Get the hell outta town (Chicago, I'm comin to see you real soon).

old/new (nothing borrowed, no longer blue)

Items found while cleaning out the contents of my '96 Camry, a car I have driven for a whole decade:
- A parking permit for the Texas Legislative Council, from a job I held in 2005.
- Gas receipts from Kansas City, 2005 (from a road trip), when gas was closer to $2/gallon.
- A receipt from a collision repair place in Austin, totalling more than 5k, from that nasty wreck in '01.
- Written directions from Davenport->Chicago, circa 2007.
- Mapquest directions (Mapquest! hah!) from Austin, TX->Davenport, IA, when I first went to check out the grad school at which I ended up spending 3.5 years of my life.
- Mix cassette tapes with music like: Rainer Maria, The Sea and Cake, The Gloria Record, Built to Spill, Very Secretary, Braid, and Komeda. All made prior to the year 2000.

She was a mighty fine auto, that Celia. Took me from Austin to Iowa (rested while I went to Quebec), to Houston, to Atlanta, to Washington. Never had nothin but Texas plates. It's fitting that she'd be buried with those. I drove her more than 100,000 miles.



And now. I have started with a clean slate. Bought the nicest thing I've ever owned (and totally fallen in love in the process). Meet Sexy Sadie.



It'll be fun to go through the memories I'll have collected with her, ten years from now. I plan on enjoying every mile.

gratitude

I love that I live in a city with amazing mountain sunsets, and that views seen from my walk home from the grocery store can make me sigh and get all giddy and feel pretty alright, even after a totally exhausting day at work.
I love that I'm not tied down to any one place or person, and that I'm free to do whatever suits my fancy and go wherever I'd like.
I love that I have patients who value me so much they give me hugs and cry because they are grateful for what chiropractic has done for them.
And that I have friends who are always available - any day of the week - to trade secrets with or sing karaoke with or listen to me bitch or help me through a car purchase or loan me money when I have locked myself out of my apartment.
And that I have a dad who I can tell about my crazy single life, and who laughs with me about it.
I love that rooftop barbecues exist in my life, and photo-boothing and soul nighting and Tuesday morning brunching.

My life is pretty great, and really funny sometimes. (Even when it's not.)

clarity

Amazing things can happen when the day starts with a full-body massage, ends with a hot bath, and there's a prozac-like cup of coffee in the middle.

Hello again, Big Picture. Long time, no see.

what happened here

how to recover from getting the fucking carpet pulled out from under you

Step 1.
Be in Seattle in the summertime.

Step 2.
Have amazing friends.

Step 3.
Buy something way cute to wear.

Step 4.
Go on a week-long social bender that includes boozing on multiple bar patios, attending a burlesque show, hanging out on the grass in city parks under sunny blue skies, playing leap frog in the streets, singing I'm On a Boat in the streets (while dancing), playing bingo (while dancing), singing karaoke while eating cake (while dancing), getting drunk on a Sunday evening and playing Jenga at a bar (...while dancing). So pretty much, boozing and dancing and chilling with wonderful lady friends who you are in love with and would totally bone if only you were a lesbian.

Step 5.
Resolve to be done with "crazy", and move onto "stable".

Step 6.
Buy a car.

Step 7.
Throw a fucking party.

quotable(/motorboatable)

"If I had big boobs, I would shake them."

"A fart is a turd honking for the right-of-way."

"I stun them with my personality gun (pew! pew-pew!)."

"Have the balls to have the boundaries."

"Don't you mix your crazy with my crazy."

"I put the F-U in 'fun'."

champion

Two Bingo nights in a row at The Chapel, and I've walked away with:
- two free drink cards,
- a 32-oz beer stein that was once filled with margarita, and
- a trophy of a woman with my name on it, kicking a soccer/very large bingo ball.

I don't like to brag, but it would appear that I am very good at this game.

i take it back

Despite drizzles and an eerie 4th of July chilliness (which I've never before experienced), I would have to revise my previously announced perfect weekend and say that this one beat it by a long shot. There was a candle-lit, seriously delicious evening of Serious Pie with a favorite couple, and there was brunching and coffeeing, bocce ball in the sun and happy hour with friends old and new. There was karaoke in a bar made for such an activity, and subsequently, singing in the streets, creating an experience I've always wanted to witness, if not be apart of: a real-life scene that could have been taken straight out of a musical. Or filmed and put into one.

I was walking with some friends just after last call, singing with one of them songs from the Grease soundtrack. Said friend set the stage with all the necessary showtunes theatrics (jumping onto the trunk of a car, dancing through the crowded corners of Pine street in Capitol Hill, all while singing "You're the One That I Want" and "Summer Lovin'" along with me). Hoards of drunken people were gathered outside of a pizza place, hanging out in that time of night between the last drink and your (or someone else's) bed, when the excitement from the night is mellowing, and the effects of alcohol bring strangers together in a friendly, noisy atmosphere filled with potential energy. Many were humming along with the tune as we passed by singing. But the scene was complete when a chubby, grubby, long-haired, grunged-out sausage vendor sang every word along with us as we passed, pointing to us and rocking out with the gusto of a chorus member from a Broadway play.

It was, in a word, fabulous.

Then top it off with two delicious barbecues, a glorious fireworks display seen from a crowded rooftop, and the feeling of loving life, and being loved in return. Even though I had to work today, and am feeling sluggish from the emotionally taxing/satisfying weekend, I say hell yes. What a weekend.

hi there, summer. i've been waiting for you.

I love Texas, don't get me wrong. The hospitality, the thunderstorms, the national beer. But it's hard to miss Austin and not adore the great state of Washington at times like these. Sure, summer took a while to get here, and I'm still getting used to wearing cardigans on cool June evenings (sweaters!! in the summertime! that shit's crazy!!!). But while my Texan friends and folks are sweating their tails off in 90-degree weather over the next couple of weeks, I'm enjoying some partly-cloudy, partly-sunny, temperate 60-to-70-something degree loveliness. And, along with it...

a gay pride parade

a block party

some rooftop BBQ's (wherein crowds can enjoy the sun instead of melting under it)

many hikes both in and out of the city

movies in parks

...and, I expect, so much more. And, what's this? It's JULY already! Oh, my. I must have been having fun lately.