humans are funny

Author: laurenne

  • Phone for thought.


    When I first took this photo in a Laos village, I didn’t want to post it online. I felt like a pedophile, or I at least felt like I might be assisting pedophiles in doing whatever they do that makes them pedophiley. But I love this picture. It’s really what kids in Laos look like, and if that means that they don’t worry about covering their genitals, then the world should know that Laos is a place where genitals roam free and parents are more concerned with making sure their kids have their blessings tied on their wrists than the holes in their pants sewn shut (Or this could be a diaper alternative that I just don’t know about.). They live in huts of straw. They eat sticky rice for dinner. They wear shoes on occasion. They’ve never heard of computers. They grow their own food. They nap with water buffalo. Life is so easy.

    —————————

    This week I’ve been faced with a lot of technology. Not only do I have this whole iPhone thing to figure out, I’ve been tweeting. Fuck. I don’t want to do it, but it’s something “they” say I have to do if I want to get blog traffic and be a famous writer and leave advertising for good. So I’m doing it. I’m telling all my ‘followers’ how many times I sneeze per day, and then I’m turning to my phone to tell me when to menstruate, what Martha’s been cooking recently, and how I can get to a macrobiotic restaurant in the valley where my friends await me with a bottle of sulfite-free wine. I wear heels. I have a green-friendly car. I own stock. I shop organic. I just ordered curtains from UrbanOutfitters.com. Life is so easy.

    My question is… What if I’d been born in Laos?

    I’m so lucky.

    Or am I?

  • Oh, the talents I have.


    Yeah I made this chair. And I whipped up a few recipes too. All for a guest blog entry I wrote on {Love Stitched}. Even I can be crafty sometimes. Just don’t ask me to pop out any kids or anything.

  • My phone said I should buy tampons.


    I plan on being the coolest old lady. The kind who says ‘phooey’ and pinches boys’ butts and reads books. That’s right, I am going to read books made of paper until my life ends no matter how much technology tries to oust them from our lives. I hate and fear the hi-tech future of video chatting and emailing and Kindling. That’s why I’ve been using a small Nokia phone from 1998. But yesterday, on a whim, I fell to the dark side. I bought an iPhone. I couldn’t help myself. I swear. And now I have this thing that I’m scared of losing, and my fingers have so much more to do each day. I don’t want to be constantly tied to technology. I don’t want to be that girl who has to ‘check my phone’ every two minutes. BUT… them apps is mad cool. I downloaded four already, my favorite being the menstrual calendar. My phone is going to tell me when I’m menstruating. This makes my world seem wrong, but I don’t want to be right. For 19 years, I’ve been feeling cranky and randomly crying and wondering ‘why oh why.’ And every time it’s a surprise when the day arrives. But now MY PHONE is going to tell me that I’m feeling cranky and crying at Hallmark commercials because the day is about to arrive! And HOLY SHIT did I just say that I’ve been menstruating for 19 years? I am so fucking old. Wait, I’m not old. I’m just a woman. I am a woman with ovaries that are now in cahoots with a phone. Let freedom ring. When it’s that time.

  • biKRAM IT.

    Uh oh. There must have been some hot towels flying yesterday. It’s a day for wearing green, you see. And that is outlawed in Bikram’s yoga studio in LA. Why, you ask? Because Bikram doesn’t like that color. And he owns the place. So you’re not allowed to wear it.

    And if you decide you want to try Bikram yoga in Manhattan Beach, you must place your water bottle to the left of your mat. Or else. You’ll get a talkin’ to. Water on the right– THE HORROR! It’s odd, especially for a hobby that’s supposed to be accepting and calming.

    I’m on my 7th year of this stuff, and I’ve always felt something was a little off, especially with the instructors. They’re Stepford Instructors and their scripts are too familiar. “Extend your right foot to make a standing ‘L’. An L like Linda.” I’ve taken classes in Spain, London, San Francisco, LA, and NY, and everyone seems to know this Linda lady. Who the hell is Linda? And what the hell is a Japanese ham sandwich? I had no idea the Japanese even ate ham sandwiches. But for seven years, every single instructor has told me to bend my body into a Japanese ham sandwich. Maybe they mean a bowl of rice.

    I have decided not to go to Bikram yoga. I don’t want to be a ham sandwich anymore. Not a Japanese one or an American one. But mainly, I don’t want to give any more money to this guy. The thought that a portion of my 10-class package went into this outfit, that car, or that hairstyle makes me want to hurl ham at every Linda I meet.

    pleather shirt AND white pants?

  • A day for beer. Not a day for chocolate desserts or presents.


    Over 1500 years ago, St. Patrick left Ireland to learn Christianity. He came back and taught about the holy trinity using a shamrock. He died on March 17th, and since that was during lent, the Irish decided that they would use that as an excuse to forget about that whole giving up meat and alcohol thing. So, it’s always been a day for getting wasted. I thought Americans had bastardized it like we do Martin Luther King Day (I just ate a chocolate dessert that day.) or Christmas (with all those presents and such). But no. St. Patrick’s Day really is for throwing some back (even the History channels says so here). I’m staying in. Far away from green beer and people like this guy who want me to kiss them because they’re 1/8th Irish.

    I always knew Chicago plumbers were the smartest. Even though they waste tons of weird dye each year, that shit looks cool.

    Speaking of wasting, these people are serious. I get that you want to make a statement against the government. And that your signature color is red. But really you’re going to hold a blood drive so you can collect enough plasma to dump onto a government building? Oh, yes, that completely changes our minds. Hey Government! Let’s change it up and put these completely sane people back in power. They’ve got beautiful blood.
    I missed so many things while traveling. I came back to find out that a really nice guy landed a plane in the Hudson, that John Edwards admitted to being a vagina enthusiast, and that everybody started talking shit on my man, Obama. But, what’s even worse is that we let this person be famous. Why? I don’t get it. She wears clothes that look like they were sewn by blind aliens? Is that why? She has a nubby penis? Is that why? Somebody please explain it. Because I know it’s not due to acting, singing, or dancing.

    Fuck Shit Stack. Now this is some acting, singing, dancing, and songwriting.

    As if people don’t have bad enough self esteem. CanDoBetter.com has arrived to make teens feel worse about themselves. Can he do better? Maybe. Can she do better? Yes. Can they both stop smoking weed and submitting their pictures to horrifying websites that are embarrassments to humankind? Definitely.


    And back to the day at hand. I hate shamrock shakes. They taste like something from McDonald’s. If I were an alien and had just been on Earth for one week and someone gave me a shamrock shake, I would say, “Is this from McDonald’s?” Or it might not sound exactly like that if I had just started to learn English. Even if it were in a normal glass and not in a cup with a McDonald’s logo on it, I would say it. Still, people seem to love them and search them out on March 17th. And to make it worse, McDonald’s has capitalized on a Chicago tradition and placed a Shamrock ad for all to see. Oh, advertising– get out of my personal space! You’re like that guy who gets so close right after I’ve had a coffee and don’t want anyone near my mouth. I apologize to all Chicagoans for being affiliated with you.



    * Special thanks to Joe Sgro for providing me with ‘Vagina Enthusiast.’ I know you are but what am I?