Life Updates: Slightly Less Depressed Edition

You guys were like, "What is Lauren up to?" I will tell you.

1. I wrote myself a note on the back of my left hand, which is where I put all the important stuff, but it is messy and I can't read it. Oh wait, I figured it out! It says "revise." I thought it said "pevse" or something. I need to do revisions on an article. I'll let you know when that shit gets published in an academic journal. Because that is actually happening. But I have to do some final revisions. Thanks for reminding me, left hand! (This is also on my to-do list, but I'm more likely to look at my hand since it's, like, on me and stuff.)

2. I've been un poquito busy preparing for an audition this weekend because apparently I do that sort of thing now. I have been filled with disappointment that I cannot perform my "Love Song for Prozac" as part of this audition because I can't find the one notebook from five years ago that I'm pretty sure the lyrics and chords are written in and I never put that one at YouTube. Curses, past self! Now I don't remember how it goes!

3. I just made a Google Drive document titled "rape jokes," so I should probably try stand-up again and I will fit right in! Don't worry, they're very classy.

4. I started an improv class.* It is fun.

5. I have actually been doing dissertation research. If this keeps up, maybe I won't have to go back to therapy to talk about how much I hate myself for not working on my dissertation and then sing my anxieties out loud to the tune of "Happy Birthday."

Source.

6. ^This is increasingly how I feel about my job.^ It may be beginning to show. I am the best receptionist ever.

*Taking a class, not teaching one. I should make that clear that I am not (yet) an improv expert.

More narcissistic youtubery

In honor of my WIG* Anne's birthday today, I have finally uploaded her song, the first I ever wrote. It is very good and true. *Were I Gay, obvs.

Slightly drunk ramblings: Can you be both a narcissist and have tragically low self-esteem?

I have chosen to discuss this with myself on my blog. I realize that a lot of shit I have posted, especially since coming to grad school, happens during drunkenness. That isn't so much because I drink that much more. I've always been a lush. Since I stopped being Mormon, like 4 years ago (when did I get so old?), anyway. It's just when I can justify not reading for class or nuzzling with that adorably bearded man I call my boyfriend, I'm usually drunk. Sometimes I'm drunk and do all these things at once. I am the best student ever, by the way. BTWs. It is interesting, if you actually sacrificed your soul and listened to the BYU podcast where I extemporated to the little sister about blogging, that one of the things I desire as a (somewhat negligent) blogger is a community. I like the idea of people rallying around things they like a lot. I also really believe in the idea of a cult of personality. Here, I will list people whose cult I have pretty much joined (sorry, Mormon Jesus, your cult didn't allow booze): 1. Conan O'Brien. BTW, congrats on the promotion. Jay Leno = not real funny. But what I love about Conan (in the 12:30 slot, anyway) is the fact that he is obviously really, really smart. He went to fucking Harvard and was the editor of the Lampoon his, like .2nd year. He is nerdy (loves Abe Lincoln), gangly, adorable, self-depricating, and amazing. His wife and kids are super-lucky. I have said since I was about 14, when I got really obsessed with Late Night, that if ever I were to be famous, that the first show I would go on would be Conan's. One day. When I write my widely popular-but-also-academic text that reveals revolutionary layers of meaning in American culture. Totes going to happen. 2. Amy Sedaris for pretty obvious comedic and lady-related reasons. Also, her bro David. What a crazy family to have grown up in. 3. Stephen Colbert. Duh. 4. Sarah Vowell. Smart. Nerdy. Awesome. Hilarious. Into history and friends with Conan. We should probs be best friends. What I'm saying is, that one of my amorphous goals for this blog and what I ultimately hope to achieve when I become a nerdy professor is to build a cult of personality. I may not give you the best impression right off the bat (I'm either shy or drunk), but I like to think that the people who like me for me are worth keeping around. And as much as I denigrate myself in my own mind and hold up the art of self-deprecation as one of the most important pieces of postmodern likability, I want people to like me. But because they think I'm awesome in the same way that I think I might maybe possibly be awesome and the same ways I think other people are awesome and try to hang out with them. And that is all. Personality. Cult. Doesn't sound so bad, eh?

A Tune of Romantic Whimsy

In lieu of finishing a history post tonight, I'm re-posting my music video with the lyrics (as requested). Apparently my crappy technology is "crappy" and no one can understand the words. Demanding assholes. Happy Heteronormativity Valentine's Day! I decided it was the perfect day to finally record one of my self-written songs for posterity. It is the second of the three I wrote last spring when I was feeling creative (and single, and not in school). So, captured with my high quality tech equipment, here it is: The Breakup Song (Fuck You) Copyright forever and ever Lauren J. Chesnut When we said goodbye, I broke in two Didn't think I could find my way without you But I came to see that you were no good for me and I'd known all along that you would do me wrong Then out of the blue, I got a message from you You'd found some old clothes of mine in the extra room So I came to you, still in our old place and in that moment I knew I had to say it to your face I said, "Fuck you," and I meant it, too There is nothing in my life that isn't better without you You didn't know what to say, you just slowly backed away You didn't recognize that new look in my eyes As I thought of my nights of tears, after all those wasted years So I picked up my pack and left and knew I'd never take it back I said, "Fuck you," and I meant it, too There is nothing in my life that isn't better without you And what were you feeling every time you said, "I love you"? 'Cause it's sure as hell not what I meant when I said, "Babe, I love you too." I said, "Fuck you," and I meant it, too There is nothing in my life that isn't better without you When I said, "Fuck you," we were finally through And there is nothing now that I'm not free to do When we said goodbye, I broke in two Didn't think I could find my way without you

I am on the interwebs with my semi-intelligent voice

Last summer, the lil' sis interviewed me for a podcast on blogging for the BYU Writing Center, where she works ('cause she is smart--take note, grad schools). Turns out I am awesome and our phone convo was used a bunch and the show is finally online. Have a listen.

Mavericks, all of 'em

(Background: discussing online teaching training)

Thrift Store Champion: I just had to watch a four minute video about it as part of this training.

Ones on blogs and Google docs are up next.

Sent at 2:52 PM on Monday

me: what are those? are they on the interwebs?

Thrift Store Champion: Wait, interwebs?

There's no video on that.

Maybe you can explain the blog thing to me.

Sent at 2:55 PM on Monday

me: One of my fave blogs lets "John McCain" guest-blog occasionally-- here is a prime magical example:

http://patriotboy.blogspot.com/2008/09/mccain-in-spain.html

Sent at 2:57 PM on Monday

Thrift Store Champion: AWESOME.

The video wasn't lying when it said that blogs democratize the media.

Sent at 2:59 PM on Monday

me: if somebody made a video about it, it must be true

it's like tv that way

Thrift Store Champion: Plus, it was a YouTube video.

Oddly enough, though, there's no video about YouTube in this tutorial.

Suspicious.

Sent at 3:02 PM on Monday

me: well, I think John mccain would remind you that if you're going to go tubing, you should always wear a life jacket

Thrift Store Champion: Sage advice.

Mavericky, even.

It's that kind of thinking that's going to shake up Washington.

me: with a team of mavericks

Thrift Store Champion: Mavericks always travel in packs.

Like wolves, except it's much harder to shoot them from helicopters.

And/or planes.

me: moving in packs is pretty much part of the definition of "maverick"

very team-oriented

Thrift Store Champion: I really, really hope that they have matching embroidered jackets.

I want one that says "Hose Hotrod"* on the chest.

Sent at 3:07 PM on Monday

me: I'm totally putting part of our chat on my blog

names have been changed to protect the innocent

Thrift Store Champion: That's perfectly fine with me.

I can't believe I'm going from watching a video about blogs to being part of one!

What a wonderful age we live in! I think John McCain would agree if he could figure out what the hell we were talking about.

*See Sarah Palin Baby Name Generator. Mine is "Duct Idaho Palin."

Yeah, I'm TOTALLY reading my Lukacs right now

Young Georg tries on the mustache for size. And is all slouch-y. So for my (admittedly awesome) communications class on cultural Marxism, we're reading a big ol' chunk of History and Class Consciousness. Large swaths of this work are completely incomprehensible, despite appearing to have been translated into English from the German or the Hungarian or whatever it was originally written in. But I can feel my smarts growing. You too can watch them growing by reading all my really good sentences. Anyway, a few tidbits to share: -The train just went by (it's maybe a half-mile away) and it is serious about constant whistle-blowing. Apparently drunk college kids wander onto the tracks sometimes and get hit. -I saw a nurse practitioner at the student health center last week, and I'm not going to lie, she was a little bit judge-y. I mean, she works at a university, I don't see where she gets off. Just because she happened to have encountered me at the tail end of Lauren's Ridiculous/Awesome Summer of Promiscuity™ and I didn't feel like counting up an exact number in front of her right then and there doesn't mean she can give me shit about "taking risks." This is why the Sexy Gay Jesus invented condoms. We've been over it.* I think it was a little over the line for her to tell me when I left that she was glad I was in a relationship now instead of "trying to get in one." Trying to get in one? How about, "enjoying being single"? or "I knew I was moving"? or "mind your own goddamn business"? Fuck you, judgmental health center lady. I bet she was disappointed to find out that I didn't have chlamydia OR gonorrhea.** -Only a couple people came to my CSI: Miami season premiere/birthday bash the other night, but Caruso did not let me down. Unlike everyone I know here in town who apparently had "homework" or "a family," an "illness" or "somewhere to be on Tuesday morning." Whatevs. Thrift Store Champion and a couple other diehards made it awesome. Although, take note: do not ever make a "Miami Punch" that involves three bottles of Cold Duck (Annn-dre) per batch. It is gross and will make everyone feel ill. Especially when they eat 2958798 lbs. of Doritos/cookies/pretzels/cake because only four people are at the party and they might as well go at it. Ah, birthdays. *Although she did tell me that condoms with spermicide on them don't do much besides irritate vaginas. So guys, quit buying that shit, it doesn't help; it only hinders. **She also kept asking me if I wanted to take a pregnancy test.

Short birthday message

On this, the 25th anniversary of my birth, I realize that I have much to be grateful for. Pretty much #1 on that list would be joy that I've never had to spend a birthday in Family Circle land.

I can has podcast?

Shortly before the big move and my subsequent (hopefully temporary) absence from the tubernets, the sister called and interviewed me for a podcast they're doing on blogging at the BYU Writing Center.* She asked me some questions about blogs in general and then about my experience writing Blonder and Thinnerrrr and I rambled about much of the crap I have rambled about on this here blog and hopefully didn't turn out too dumb-sounding.** Anyway, the promo is up and features some of my awesome awesomeness regarding blogging. I'll let y'all fans know when the actual p-cast is up. *'Cause I'm totally, like, an expert, and not just conveniently related to her. **I mean, I know I sound like a genius in writing, but Lauren = has never been particularly articulate in real life talking. "So... yeah."

Oslo: crappy weather, expensive, new friends!

Fah-JORD.

After an overnight train ride in which the Perpetual Roommate and I had trouble figuring out where to sit (Don't ask, okay? The tickets were in Danish.), and a pit stop in my great-grandparents' hometown of Frederikshavn, Denmark, we got a ferry to Oslo. Once we figured out where to sit on the ferry, I had a Burn energy drink* and promptly took a glorious nap on a leather couch in the restaurant in front of a big flat screen TV playing the Olympics. Then we got up in time to admire the fjord before we docked in Oslo. Once we figured out where the hell we were going in the city, the PR immediately had her ATM card eaten by the machine. In Norway. It was awesome. Also, it was like intermittent torrential rainstorms the first 36 hours we were there. But we were able to turn things around and enjoy ourselves. Although after being spoiled by Copenhagen, Oslo seemed really dirty, crowded, full of cars, and just generally more urban. But it is also hilly and green, and the outlying areas are particularly beautiful. Kind of reminded me of my home state of Washington (*tear*). Anyway, some highlights: 1. After dealing with ATM card-loss business (hooray for large immigrant populations and abundant internet cafes!), we ended up at a restaurant very, very close to our semi-sketchy hostel. We ordered the cheapest things on the menu, which were tacos (me) and a hot dog without a bun** which we accompanied with some Carlsbergs, since they were the cheapest beer listed that we recognized on the Norwegian menu. Anyway, while we bitched about how much everything cost, a lively group of younger people speaking mostly English sat down at the next table. We ended up asking them what something on the menu was and why it was so cheap, and were quickly informed that it was an alcohol-free beer. WTF? Why bother? But we got to chatting with them and they invited us over to their table. There was one local college student, a Finn (who was disappointed his country didn't warrant a stop on our "Scandinavian tour"), and several transplanted Spanish architects and engineers. The told us all the good sights to see, took us to another bar, and introduced us to Ringnes on tap. (Which they kindly bought for us after we had spent the last hour and a half complaining about how expensive Norway was and how the American dollar is worthless.) And it turns out one of our new friends is a blogger! ¡En español! And while José assured me that if I didn't understand it, I could just look at the pictures, I went there and could at least get the gist of his posts without having to use a translator. But I'm just good at reading like that. Anyway, check out The Nordic Connection for the latest on being a Spanish architect in Oslo. And thank god we met some cool people (who seemed to mostly catch my massive amounts of sarcasm), because the city and us really had got off on the wrong foot. Also, I got decently buzzed on beer (I had three!) for pretty much the first time ever.

View from in front of the palace.

2. Between rainstorms, we saw some sights and did laundry at our hostel. We took many, many pictures atop the Opera House, saw the royal palace and the like, and saw The Scream at the national gallery (for free!). We also had crazy cocktails at some random bar. I ordered mine because it was called a mango something-or-rather and I like mango, but then it was super peppery! Weird.

"That's gymnasts, Murray." (Opera House)

Random circus theater equipment near which we were called whores.

3. We were accosted by a Norwegian punk who yelled at us first very drunkenly in Norwegian, and then after he figured out we only spoke English, proceeded to tell us how he and his punk friends were drinking and he needed 20 kroner. And we were like, "No." That's like $4! Kind of steep to ask of someone random on the street. But then he got mad. "You blonde.... whores!" Blonde whores. Wow. His quiet female friend who had not said a word the whole time then led him away from us while he kept yelling, "Whores! Whores!" At which point I felt as if I needed to say something, so I yelled, "If we were whores, we might have some money!" Fucking Norwegian punk. Probably makes more money than Bill Gates just panhandling in Oslo.

It's a little-known fact that Norway was once populated exclusively by elves.

4. The Norwegian folk museum. Old, old farmhouses from all over the country. Definitely a place my parents would have insisted on taking us as kids. 5. Battery energy drink! Not bad.

At least this part of the gravel path didn't have lampposts along it.

6. Then we went hiking AKA "walking around in the forest," as our local friends kept calling it. We took the train outside the city and hiked between T-Bane stations, encountering gravel paths, pretty forests, and a lake completely surrounded by Norwegians running and biking and whatnot. I couldn't believe people were swimming, because it wasn't really that warm, though at least not raining. We had been informed, though, by the locals that summer was already over. Apparently that happens in July. Also on the lake shore was a group of suckers obviously being forced to participate in ridiculous team building/"trust" exercises. Some more pics:

Church.

Look at the workman's little cap!

Shipyard.

*Website features ridiculous dancing woman. **I don't eat hot dogs. I've sworn off them for life. Because they are gross. I haven't had one in five years.

Highlights: Copenhagen (with pictures!)

Of course we saw the Little Mermaid. Duh.

I'm back! Totally not spending as much time packing for my move as I should be! But I packed a large suitcase and one box and reserved a U-Haul today, so that's better than nothing, eh? One big trip wrap-up post was a bit overwhelming, especially after fighting with Facebook to load a bunch of pictures all day. So I'll do one for each city we visited. First: Copenhagen. The Perpetual Roommate and I loved it. We spent our first few nights and our last night there, all good ones. It is a beautiful, very walkable city full of many, many, many bikes with tricky locks that don't require you to hook them up to anything. A very clean city. Pretty much everybody speaks English. I had a 99 kroner/$20 salad on our first night there and that's when it really hit home that this was going to be an expensive trip. After that, PR and I kept comparing everything in price to that salad. (She got a hot chocolate that was $10 at the same place, but it was fucking magnificent and almost worth that much money. Almost.) 1. Awesome first picture of the trip. How I wish I could shop at the Lady Boutique every day. (From the Copenhagen airport.) 2. You can buy liquor at the 7-11 and drink it anywhere you want. This is magical. Good for Denmark. And it's a hell of a lot cheaper than going out. Also, there is a 7-11 on every block. 3. Does this make anyone else uncomfortable, or am I needlessly problematizing a cultural situation that I can never fully comprehend? Can someone exploit themselves? Feminists often ask the same question, and I guess we all make compromises. It seems we can allow ourselves to be exploited, but it doesn't really seem like it can be a reflexive verb. It's a tricky situation. Anyway, I hope they make a lot of money, what with Indians always being fucked over and whatnot. We saw some more of these guys in Oslo. 4. We got kind of obsessed with Hans (Christian Andersen-- we're totes on first-name basis, kids). We followed the many confusing signs to his grave, saw Niels Bohrs' giant headstone, and also witnessed Kierkegaard in the kirkegard (god I am so funny). We also went on a sweet HCA "magic story chest" ride for kids at Tivoli. I love how they are making money off of his legacy. 5. I tried a Cult energy drink (fruit flavor), and it was pretty good. Then we discovered the Cult Shaker- The Party Maker. Pretty much a European Sparks. It came in these aluminum bottles and cost 22 kroner. This super-sleazy ad seemed to multiply in the week between our arrival in Copenhagen and when we returned for one more night before we flew home. I may have ignored the social implications and purchased a few of these drinks anyway. Also, this woman's right nipple had totally been airbrushed away. FYI. 6. We saw many historical sights, Christiania, and went on the rides at Tivoli (which we could see out our hostel window) until we made ourselves sick. A few more pretties:

This mostly just cracked me up. It's not BBQ, it's AMERICAN.

Between energy drinks, I sleep

I had a dream recently in which I met Ed Begley, Jr. through a mutual friend, and I surprised myself at how un-shy I was around him. Of course, all I wanted to talk about was Bill Nye. He kindly obliged me. I had another dream where I was going running with the Perpetual Roommate* on a gravel path. There was a steep hill that we kept going up and down. For some reason, I was barefoot and the rocks did not hurt my feet at all. Later that day, after I had woken up and forgotten about the dream, the thought popped into my mind that running barefoot was something I just did. Like, regularly. *This is funny in and of itself because she would ask me to go running with her maybe twice a year during the time we lived together, and I would always laugh. Because I am lazy and didn't used to exercise. But then later I actually started running, but we still never went together.

BICENTENNIAL POST

You may say, "Lauren, your blog has not been around for 200 years. But after reading post after post about energy drinks, it kind of feels like it."

"Don't be silly!" I would reply. "I just mean it's my 200th post! Hooray!"

We recently wrote a trivia question asking why there are no quarters dated 1975. It's 'cause of the bicentennial, bitchez! Special edition coins! Coin collectors of the universe unite! I don't know why I keep writing exclamations! I think I'll stop now!

So I've been seriously at this shit for about six months, and I'm totally hooked. Though my overpaid desk job will be ending next week, I hope to continue to blog regularly as a grad student/general layabout. Though I will not be making mad cash to fuck around on the internet, my love for all things online has saved my soul from completely crumbling inside my seafoam green cubicle. This is something I will not soon forget. But so even though I didn't quite know what I was going to write about when I really started getting into blogging, I am pretty pleased with what has evolved.

So, my dear, kind readers! What say you? How's it going on your end? What do you like? What do you hate? How many more energy drink reviews or presidential posts do you need to be truly satisfied by my blog content? Comments, suggestions, rave reviews, general congratulations, etc. welcome. Seriously though, could at least one person comment? (Sister, this responsibility may fall to you.) Because I kind of feel like a douchebag when I'm like, "Talk about it in the comments!" And then the comments say, "..... (crickets chirping) ....." Google Analytics tells me that on weekdays around twenty people generally read my blog, so I know you exist. Help me drown out the crickets, and keep reading! More magic to come.