A Little and the Lot

I started a second blog page a few days ago. I'm not sure exactly what I am going to do with it yet, but I wanted to make a blog that was a bit more focused. I find that I have trouble writing if I don't know what I'm going to write about. So I made "A Little and the Lot". I want it to focus on little stories about humans, in an effort for us to have more understanding of each other. Little stories that make up the whole lot of us. I find that I learn new things about people all the time, and it gives me a new perspective for why they act a certain way. Instead of us all blindly judging each other and making assumptions, why not take some time to actually understand. Even a little. Like I said, my game plan isn't really in motion quite yet, but I have one post so far. If you'd like to read it, go to alittleandthelot.blogspot.com

"Walk On"

Please download this song - all proceeds will go to Run For Her, a 5K for Ovarian Cancer Research and Awareness.

Things I Try to Avoid While Walking in or Around my Office Building

1. Old Man Polyester’s Cologne.
2. My Gawky, Weird, Blonde Stalker.

Old Man Polyester:
He’s pretty classy. I’d say he’s about 70-75 years old, and he walks with a bit of a strut. Every time I see him, he’s wearing really nice slacks – very 1970s. The guy rarely smiles, but I just think of him as all business, all the time. But he wears more cologne than anyone I’ve ever been around. He must take a bath in it every day. I know when he’s been in the hallway and in the stairs, or in front of the mailboxes. His cologne lingers like a house guest who has overstayed their welcome. It lingers, and then it punches me in the face. Every. Day.

My Gawky, Weird, Blond Stalker:
I’m not sure how long ago it was that I started seeing this guy around my office building. But I slowly starting noticing his intense staring. Now, I’m not one of those girls that thinks every guy is after her, or everyone’s always staring at her. But I’m pretty sure this guy has a giant crush on me, and he is very awkward. And his skin is very pale and his hair is very blond. This sounds like I’m being mean, but I feel the need to say that there is a slight creep factor to this awkward fellow. If he sees me coming down the hall, he suddenly gets really nervous and says, “OH…” I give a “Hey”, and walk on by. Or he just stares at me while I’m in my car in the parking lot. Last week, he actually broke the ice. As I was getting the mail, I saw him coming. “Uh oh,” I thought, “Is he going to speak to me?” Ugh. He did. His line? “Jeans on a Wednesday?” I couldn’t understand what the hell he was talking about for a second. OH. I’m wearing jeans at work and he thinks that’s weird/funny/interesting. “Yep. Pretty casual at my office,” I said. He replied, “I’d get skewered for wearing something like that.” Skewered. After a few minutes of talk about casual wear at work, I was finally back to my office door. See ya! Guess what he talked about the next time I saw him? My casual outfit. “Wow, so casual again today…jeans, a tank top, flip flops…” Hey, remember that Wednesday a week ago when I said that my office was casual? It still applies. He wears a white collared button-up shirt and blue slacks every day. Like Ronald McDonald, he wears the same thing every day, and I think he may have 100 pairs of blue slacks and 100 white collared shirts in his closet.

These are things that I attempt to avoid every afternoon. I’d rather not suffocate on Old Man Polyester’s cologne. I also rather not suffocate in the trunk of my gawky, weird, blond stalker’s car. I’m sure I’m over-reacting, but I like to be cautious when I can.

Lauren’s Random Thought of the Day

The contraction “let’s” means “let us”.
Let us work together on this.
Let us go to dinner.
Let us walk across the street.

But sometimes if you actually want to use the words “Let us”, the contraction does not work.

What if you and a friend were kidnapped? You’d say, “Let us go!”
You couldn’t say “LET’S GO!!” That just sounds crazy.

It's early, and I'm tired and at work and I don't want to be, so this might just be a complainy blog. The coffee hasn't kicked in yet, even though I have been kind of guzzling it.

I came back from the Strawberry Music Festival on Monday, and now I feel inspired and frustrated. Inspired because I heard a lot of music, played a lot of music, and heard a lot of stories about people playing music. Frustrated because I returned to a messy, hectic desk, in a quiet, busy office where they make tax software, and I talk about the IRS all day long. I'm inspired because a place like a music festival brings out the best in people - you walk into a stranger's campsite, and they happily welcome you in. Frustrated because I'm back in LA, having to drive in a car next to strangers - you want to merge into their lane, and they do everything possible to keep you out.

I don't think I'm a cynical person. I'm just having a moment. I feel tired and cranky, and I just don't want to be sitting at this desk. If the people playing at music festivals can make money doing what they love, can't I too? I think so. Let me clarify though - I really cannot complain all too much about my job. I have a job. And it pays me well, and that is an amazing thing these days. Do I want it to be my career? No. But it is allowing me to start paying down my debt. And to feel the feeling of having no debt will one day be a very exciting thing. And it will also allow me to one day go to Greece. And it did allow me to go to the Strawberry Music Festival. Ok, so maybe I won't pack up and disappear into the woods just yet.

Alright. I got all that off my chest, so I feel better now. The coffee is doing its job, and my tired head doesn't feel so heavy. I think I maybe need to wake up a little earlier and have coffee at home. This would make for a less miserable first hour at work. I have rambled and half-complained enough. I am going to make the choice to have a good day, and continue the feeling of being inspired, and try not to be frustrated. Because that does me no good. Frustration just leaves me with complaints, while motivation and inspiration leaves me with goals. My goal for right now: wake up and stop complaining.

August and Ian

Well here it all comes again. Every year, as Ian's birthday approaches, he's in my mind even more than usual. I think back to all his other birthdays in his lifetime, and each one since he died, but I also reflect on my life now, and how he would fit into it. With every new friend I make, and important person that comes into my life, I get a stinging feeling knowing that they won't get to meet Ian. But a good friend recently told me that he feels like he knows him, because of all the stories I tell, and the picture I've painted about who he was. I find comfort in that somehow. Knowing that I am still doing a good job of keeping his memory alive is very important to me. But I can't help imagining what life would be like these days with him around. Now that I live in LA again, I know that I would see him a lot, like I see my other brother Josh. Ian would be so supportive of my band, and he'd be friends with my friends. He would probably try everything he could to get our songs into the movies or tv shows he was working on. He would recruit friends to our shows and brag to anyone he could. He'd still make fun of me and tease me whenever possible, and tell me to stop being the "fashion police" when I'd make a comment about his wrinkled pants or mismatched outfit. He'd be goofy Uncle Ian to baby Stella, Ben and Elliott, Josh and Emily's kids, my kids. In some way, he still is. Because we don't let go of all these memories. We don't stop talking about him. So on August 6th, what would have been his 32nd birthday, we'll celebrate him and his life, and have a drink in his honor. And live it up, like he did. He'd be happy to know we're all happy and having fun. So that is what we will do.

Little Bits

I have recently had some days of real sadness and loneliness. Sometimes a part of my heart has felt an aching that I don't know what to do with. So I've been dealing with it, sitting in it, and allowing myself to try to not just escape it easily. Because I know it could find its way back to me eventually if I don't face it now. In the last month, I've been more quiet and more introverted than usual. Some days, not as interested in being social or talking to people; even friends and family.

But last weekend, I spent several nights alone at my apartment. I felt like I was fighting off a cold, so I stayed in and stayed to myself and went to sleep early each night. By Sunday morning, I felt an energy that I hadn't felt in awhile, and it's stayed with me since then. I'm finally feeling little bits of myself coming back. I feel my silliness returning, along with my sense of adventure and fun.

I know I'll still have those other days, and I will let them come, but I'm glad to have the other little bits of me back.