really?

I knew that the marketing people in our country were working to drain any and every holiday of its meaning and importance, but I still found this shocking:
CVS is promoting hair relaxer for black history month.

wine and frito pie

Friday night was the annual wine and cheese party. This is pretty much THE EVENT of the year for us. It consists of eating a plateful of cheese while pretending to be civilized.
Me and JW in our fancy clothes
When the cheese of gone, then the party turns more to drinking heartily from a large table covered in random bottles of wine.

After that, those with endurance hang around for an awesome dance party:
I believe that I'm singing "Livin' on a Prayer" in the above picture. After all that dancing we went to Taco Cabana, which is the best place to go for late-night in Texas (and I will fight anyone who disagrees with me).

Sunday morning was the annual all-church Chili cookoff at FUMC. I made cornbread and ate as many samples as I could get my greedy little hands on. One of the rules in the $1 per meal or less eating plan says that whenever I can get food for free, I eat as much of it as possible. Here are the shiny, happy young Methodists with our Chili:
Today began the dreaded renal (kidney) block in school. Three weeks of studying the different ions in the body and how they can get pushed out of whack... wish me luck!

strange things happen in the silence

Yesterday as I was laying awake at night due to overzealous coffee drinking at Panera (turns out that drinking 4 cups between 7-8 pm doesn't help you with falling asleep at midnight) I started thinking about all of the odd things that I've seen or heard about in the library. And I began to wonder if constant silence isn't almost as effective at turning someone crazy as constant solitude.
Case in point: Dallas Public Library. The downtown branch has more homeless people in it than any other category of person. It could be argued that they are at the library because they have no home, but maybe it's the other way around... maybe the silence of the library turns people crazy so that they are no longer able to function in society and thus become homeless.
There is one man whose home is the third floor of our school library. I know this because every day he sits down and sleeps for six hours. He snores like a chainsaw. One of my friends once looked at the stack of papers that he brings with him to make it look like he's doing work, and there was nothing on them but nonsensical doodles. The times of day when he's not sleeping, he's looking up sports scores online. He's actually pretty smart to have chosen our library because the DPL does not allow sleeping inside, or even partially reclining. My friend Mark has been kicked out for breaking this rule.
Another time, some guy who was diabetic was focusing so intently on studying that he forgot to check his blood sugar. He became hypoglycemic and fainted, and they had to start an IV glucose drip right there in front of everyone. I don't blame him; the silence makes time stand still.
On Wednesday, I saw another weirdo. Someone came in, and before sitting or putting his books down to begin studying, he took a Clorox bleach wipe and disinfected his study table...But then he started to cough all over his disinfected surface, so he must have already been sick.
Wine and cheese party tonight. Much fun will be had by all.

look to this day

Look to this day!
For it is life, the very life of life.
In its brief course lie all the
Verities and realities of your existence.
The bliss of growth,
The glory of action,
The splendor of beauty;
For yesterday is but a dream,
And tomorrow is only a vision;
But today well lived makes
Every yesterday a dream of happiness
And every tomorrow a vision of hope.
Look well, therefore, to this day.
-Kalidasa

self-enforced poverty

I'm doing a little experiment right now to see if it's possible to every meal for under $1 each. When I mention this plan to my friends, they tend to scoff. I'm told that my dream is impossible. Clearly they don't fully appreciate my obsessions with being a cheapo. Last night I went grocery shopping, and for around $65 I got enough food to last me for about a month and a half. How do I do it, you ask?


Beans and rice are my home boy and girl , respectively. Dry beans cost 88 cents for two pounds, and rice is $2.00 for a five-pound bag that lasts forever. Add in some seasonings, garlic, salt and hot sauce and I'm good to go for 4-5 dinners. Peanut butter is $2.00 a jar, jam is $1.50, and bread is $1.09 for a loaf. Delicious. My diet is a little monotonous, but I was able to buy some beautiful and heavenly comfortable Tony Lama boots.
Ok, so maybe I'm just eating this way because I spent too much money during the month of December, then had to pay $480 to register for my board exam. It's easier to cut myself off completely from luxurious restaurants (like souper salad) than to go halfway with it.

so THAT'S what goes down in Vermont.

last night as I was searching for handkerchiefs online, I accidentally stumbled upon the most marvelous store in the land. It's called The Vermont Country Store, and they market themselves as "Purveyors of the Practical and Hard-To-Find"; I am not sure which category this fits into:But I'm pretty sure that I would have killed for a rabbit fur capelet with matching headband and muff at the age of eight. Also available: flannel footie pajamas for adults, sleeve garters (I have no idea what those are), and an ice grip cane attachment, which would not ever come in handy in TX but I'm sure has real value in Vermont. The women's warm weather clothing consists entirely of jumpers, muumuus, and patio dresses. They sell women's turbans for when you don't have time to fuss with your hair-do, and multiple products that have been resurrected for exclusive sale in their store; "Gee, your hair smells terrific!" brand shampoo, Lux Soap (very popular with movie stars from 1930-1950), and Tangee lipstick, which is supposed to change to automatically fit your complexion, but which ends up as a garish hot pink on nearly everyone.
But what really set this store apart from the other old-time general stores was the Health Step, a little foot rest to put in front of the potty when you're having a BM. This is supposed to approximate the natural squatting position of our ancestors and thus prevent IBS, urinary incontinence, and diverticulitis. and if the footrest doesn't do the trick, they also sell these:
it's one-stop shopping, folks.

resolutions

I love new year's resolutions. last year boasted such highlights as "run 3 miles in 24 minutes" (did not happen), "cut down on soda" (I am now too poor to buy soda, so this one was accomplished), "go to church" (yes; First United Methodist) and "drink less booze" (I don't often have any time to go out, so I am nearly a teetotaler) I finally got around to making mine for this year:

• treat med school like an 8-6 job and go to class.
• read more real news and less celebrity gossip news
  
• become a ridiculously awesome triathlete
• stop wearing athletic clothes to look like I am about to go work out but really I was too lazy to put together a normal outfit
• stop allowing starbucks to suck away half of my food budget
• read the entire Bible in a year

Last night was Karla's birthday bash. We did reverse happy hour at Kona Grill, which is a restaurant attached to a mall, which is kind of weird but they have pretty good food and nice drink specials. It was packed and some guy almost hit me trying to hold me back from tripping over these giant Barney's bags he had on the ground. I think rather than assaulting ladies, the better idea is to put giant things in your car instead of on the ground in a crowded bar. There were also two cougars there who got into a cat fight. It was broken up by THREE of Dallas's finest (and you wonder why we have one of the ten highest crime rates in the country?).

After Kona, we went to the Knox Street Pub to boogie. I saw people who I haven't seen in MONTHS. BuAbbud promised to take me skeet shooting in the near future. Maybe even today.

cell phones

I'm beginning to think of customized ring tones the same way I do of vanity license plates. I think the cell phone industry has created a real monster here. I admit, it is convenient to be able to identify whomever is calling before you look at the phone. I also admit to having Wyclef's "Perfect Gentleman" as my ringtone for two solid years, in part because there are few things as wonderful as hearing "Just cause she dances go-go, it don't make her a ho, no!" and then picking up to speak with my mother. But when I got my new phone, the old song sounded like crap on its speakers so I was forced to retire it and move to a standard telephone ring. An encounter I had today made me think that maybe I was just in the nick of time.
In the waiting room at my allergist's office, A woman's cell phone rang four times and loudly. I thought it was great that someone loves Beyonce so much that she kept "Irreplaceable" as her ringer even after it had been sickeningly overplayed for six months a year ago. It was actually kind of fun to hear it played over and over as she got phone calls--like a spontaneous 9 AM dance party! But then there was such a let-down when it only got to "You must not know bout" and then stopped! I just wanted to turn to her and say "Let it ring, baby! let it ring!"
In other troubling news, sometimes when I put my phone on vibrate and then stick it in my back pocket, I don't feel it ringing. I think the fat on my butt is dampening the vibration to such an extent that it never reaches my vibratory sensory receptors. I guess the fat is supposed to do that, so that you don't feel every pebble on the ground when you sit down, but it's still disturbing. Also disturbing: the fact that med school is so terrible that I'm contemplating re-starting my antidepressants.

i have the most recognizable face on earth*.

*That is if you went to elementary school with me. Over the past year or so, I have been recognized by three different people with whom I attended first grade (Las Colinas Elementary, Mrs. Miller's class 1990-91). I was not particularly close friends with any of them, and only one of them was in my actual first grade class. Two of the people were also named "Lauren". None of them recognized me in the same city where we went to school. Why is my 6 year old self so freakishly recognizable in my 23 year old self? Because I look almost exactly the same as I did when I was born. True, there have been slight changes (eg I no longer have bangs) but all in all I look exactly the same:
The next picture was taken when I was 4 or 5. I was a hipster before hipsters knew what it was to be hip. Now all the coolest people in Austin are wearing vintage t-shirts, high waisted jeans and suspenders with pageboy haircuts. All I need is some non-perscription oversized glasses and I'd be ready to start an indie rock band that did intensely-felt covers of pop songs (not because we couldn't come up with our own, but because we wanted to comment on the factory-production of pop stars and break down overproduced Britney songs to their core meaning, a stark and emotive crying-out for the overmanaged artists' needs: gimme gimme MORE, gimme MORE, gimme gimme MORE! More of what? you would begin to wonder... because that, my friends, is the real underlying question.This shot was taken at the age of 5: I know I look like I'm nearer to 10, but I know that this was taken in San Antonio so I was 5, tops. This is the only picture I have of myself with well-defined abs. I started swim team at age 4 because my sister Shannon was doing it and I wanted to tag along. That's why as a 5-year-old I had such great definition in my delts, biceps and abs. I think this picture may go in my gym locker to remind me that if I had a 6-pack once, I can get one again.
happy new year from lauren losefast.