it was a slow summer

I know it’s been fall for like a week now, but I’ve been wanting to do this post for awhile and (ironically?) haven’t had much time to write it! It’s ironic because it’s about having way too much time.

It Was a Slow Summer. Specifically at my job, which has really picked up, but during those few summer months I existed in a ten-to-six, over air-conditioned vacuum of free time. I’m not complaining! Most of the time it was awesome.

Towards the end of the summer, I had cause, for one reason or another, to examine my google search history. LOOK at your google search history, you’re guaranteed to find something hilarious.

Without further ado, I present to you Summer 2011: A Snapshot of My Life.

Wanderlust (I actually really hate that word, a lot)

best hikes in new york
cheap getaways nyc
cruises
bear mountain ny
bear mountain ny lodging
bear mountain ny hiking
map of united states
hiking pants
machu picchu
machu picchu total cost [too much L]

Celebrities and the Macabre, and Both

princess diana crash photos
beyonce haiku
menendez shootings
iman fgm
most famous steely dan song
mark wahlberg favorite food
kathy griffin plastic surgery
michael douglas facelift
flight 447 black boxes
justine bateman born again
cycling vomiting syndrome

The Culinary Arts
how to use a charcoal grill
how long can I refrigerate tuna
best pesto recipe
low-fat pasta recipes
what is my favorite wine [all of them]
sichuan peppercorn
lentil hummus recipe
how to care for herbs
charcoal grill dessert recipe

Apartment Hunting/Gathering
what is a loft
gross bathroom tiles
fold-out counter space
the container store
how to cook in a tiny kitchen

Personal Probs

beginner weight training for women
easyfeet [I own one now!]
metabolic strength training [yeah right]
baby names
face shape
haircuts for oval faces
long bob
UTIs fertility
UTI preventative diet
lung irritation

Curiosity?
dragon
the prettiest dress
cowboy words
neutral color wheel
what did the purple shovel say to the pink hoe
baby tuxedo
qream
new york new jersey train conference [?]
gucci mane ice cream tattoo

The End of an Era

nyu wagner academic calendar

I feel like the list above kind of eerily/depressingly sums me up entirely.

Leave your google search gems in the comments! (I always type that with a twinkle in my eye because three people read my blog.)

strange strawberry snacks

There has been a recent upsurge in puzzling strawberry-related paraphernalia poppin’ all up in my life this week!

Exhibit A: This convenience store gem:

I tried to buy a package but realized all of them were open already (“because it’s hot,” according to the cashier. No thanks!) Now I may never know if Strawberried Peanut Butter M&Ms are delicious or gross, because they are SPECIAL EDITION. By the way, is “strawberried” even a word? Nope. What does it mean? Has the peanut butter been exposed to some kind of strawberry treatment? Or is a cool new thing I don’t know about, like “you got STRAWBERRY’D!”

Exhibit B: Someone painted this on the sidewalk outside my apartment:

No, sir, I am NOT hungry for a drippy grayscale strawberry snack! I like this, though.

What will strawberries think of next?!

the title of this post is not "come on, irene"

Oh hi, y'all! This morning, I had grand plans to liveblog the hurricane, but two naps and half a jar of peanut butter later, I've lost my motivation. Especially considering that, for so much build-up, nothing is happening yet! I have a feeling I'll be whistling a different tune in a few hours, though...

So, I'm all hunkered down with my man in his apartment (for once grateful he lives in a fifth-floor walkup!). Luckily, we are more than prepared for whatever emergency Irene may bring our way:

STORM STATION. I wonder why he owns this?

Of course, given the possibility of power outages and a days-long exile in this paradise, we stocked up on some non-perishables and ready-to-eat snacks:

Not sure how this is what two intelligent adults came up with for hurricane rations. No comment on who bought Spam in a non-ironic way.

So, to all three and a half of my readers out there, don't worry for my safety! We're obviously well-equipped to weather the storm. We've got candy bars, peanut butter, and each other. Here's hoping that's all we'll really need!

foods all up in my grill

For his recent birthday, I got my love a wee charcoal grill and two lawn chairs, for use on his apartment building’s rooftop. I want to shout my newfound love for all things flame-grilled from said rooftop.

A few musings on the joys of cooking outdoors:

It makes me feel patriotic! Or at least, as patriotic as I get. I can list on one hand the several things that make me feel Proud To Be An American: the Olympics; fireworks; the ending of Apollo 13 (every time! every time I think they’re not going to make it)…and that’s about it. Engaging in this most American of traditions (right? Isn’t there something “USA! USA!” about cookin’ on the ol’ grill?) makes me feel red, white and blue all over. Freedom! Or something.

It gets me back to my roots! As you may know, cave people invented fire. As a formerly inexperienced grill-user, I’ve really gotten in touch with my mammoth-roasting ancestors; taken my hunted and gathered to the flame, if you will. There really is something primal and timeless about the simple act of casting your food into the fire and smelling that smoky char.

Most importantly, it is delicious! Anyone reading this has probably already been subjected to my rave reviews of my own inaugural grill dessert, but I think it’s worth mentioning again. Yumb.

My man's veggie and tuna steak skewers ain't too shabby neither.

If this were a real blog, I’d say something like, “What about you! Leave your favorite summertime grill recipes in the comments.”

ask lauren (but only if you like the look of my freckles)

A strange phenomenon has been occurring in my life, involving friendly drunk girls seeking relationship advice from me in bathrooms. Well, it's happened twice in two weeks. Is twice a pattern? The girls are strangers, the romantic situations they've gotten themselves into are kind of Sex and the City-esque (or even a little Lauren-circa-2008).

My first client, we'll call her "Maria" (I was at a Cuban restaurant) Was loudly lamenting her romantic dilemma on her cell phone in the stall next to mine. "I just wish you were still heeerrreee," she slurred. "I know I shouldn't do it, but like, I feel like I'm gonna do it." After a urination's-worth stretch of her friend trying to convince her NOT to do this thing, Maria hung up and we exited our respective stalls together. I gave her kind of a friendly, knowing look ("hey girlfriend, we do like, sisterhood! or something!"), which she took to mean, tell me what you were talking about with your friend.

Long story short, this woman (this WOMAN!!) was trying not to sleep with her married coworker whose wife just had a baby? I was all, girl. And she grasped my arms and begged me to stay and help her (decide?). I had half a mind to roll up my sleeves and tell this woman a thing or two about life as I know it (not that she wasn't a capable, intelligent individual; "I have a PhDEEEEEE!" she lamented), but then, thankfully, the waitress who had been serving her table (and seemed to be remarkably familiar with the circumstances) came in and took over. I had to go, I told them, and said she should probably call her friend back. She'd know what to say.

"Oh, that wasn't my friend," she said. "I met her in the bathroom half an hour ago." True story!

Last night at happy hour with Tiffany, I was in the bathroom, you know, reapplying my glosses or something similarly dainty, and a woman came out of a stall, put one hand on her hip, and asked "Say, where are you from?" "Milwaukee, Wisconsin!" I replied happily, because who doesn't get a little happy when they think of America's Heartland? I'm not sure why she wanted to know where I was from, because the next thing she said was that she was visiting a friend, but not the friend she meant to visit.

This girl, this poor damn girl (oh, her name is....Matilda, I don't know), had flown to New York City from California to see A Dude. He knew she was coming, he agreed to pick her up at the airport, and he didn't fucking come. Just didn't show up. Didn't call, didn't email. She took a cab to a friend's apartment and told him she had come to New York to surprise him.

I'm not going to turn this into a feminist rant or anything, nor will I relate it to any of my own dating mishaps, none of which were as cruel to the heart as this one. I just hope for this dude's sake that he fell into a coma, or...is dead. Those are the only acceptable excuses. Poor Matilda.

Regardless, something about me (my midwestern charm? my approachable good looks? do I look extra smart, or nice?) is causing strangers to seek my relationship advice in NYC public restrooms. What do you guys think? Should I start an advice column? For tipsy gals with horrible dating luck?

beyonce is my religion

Oh, hey, guys. Sorry I've been MIA! The past two years have just been soooooo busy. Just kidding. I was still doing things! I just wasn't recording them on Things Lauren Did.

So I've been thinking about getting back to blogging, and then this most perfect of events came to be and I knew it was THE moment for my e-identity to resurface. Think about it. What two things make me happier than anything in the world? Yes, that's right; Beyonce and goofy poetry.

NY Magazine held a contest for best Beyonce haiku. what. The winner gets two VIP tickets to Bey's Good Morning America performance. WHAT (Good Morning, indeed!) The contest closed this morning, and surprisingly I haven't heard anything yet. I mean, I'm pretty sure I'll win, but it would be nice to know for sure.

These are the haiku(s?) I submitted:

B, of honeyed hues!

What are you like in real life?

Exquisite, I'm sure.

hair of gilded strands

the body of a goddess

a voice like church bells

B, we'd be fast friends.

Say! After your performance,

let's go to breakfast.

LOL, right?? I found it hilarious how inclined I was to use religious imagery while I was brainstorming these. Mostly lines about her being an angel and a goddess, and being sent from heaven.

By the way, VIP means I get to meet Beyonce, right? OH GOD, what will I wear?

As we await the announcement of the winner with bated breath, I would like to share a few of the super crazy things my fellow contestants said about Beyonce:

she is "a lamb in the dark (hm?)," "quick like a cheetah" a "Renaissance woman" and "a hero of science!" Also, a "boof poof." Seriously.

"she will always guard your soul."

her music is "Nectar for parched ears."

AND. somebody refers to her as "Beysus."

I'll keep you posted/let you know when I win.

i've been in jail

Or, just, like, lazy. I just told Katie (roommate from college! ring out ahoya!) about my blog, though, and suddenly realized it was time to update. I think I've been waiting for something to happen that was so dramatic, so noteworthy as to stand out in the context of my entire life, that I would have to update. But, if a trip to the Middle East, the beginning and end of a short-but-sweet relationship, a crosstown move and deciding to go back to grad school don't cut it, I fear I will remain unimpressed with my life forever.

Unless I get Spirograph. This edition of thingslaurendid is actually sillythingslaurenwantsreallybad. Do you remember playing with spirographs when you were little? Maybe this will jog your memory: Look how much fun they're having!.

Ebay has them, but I don't own one yet because a) apparently they are in very high demand, at least among ebay-ers, and b) I just recently jumped on the ten-to-fifteen-year-old ebay bandwagon and have trouble keeping up with it. But, mark my workds: a 1969 vintage Hasbro Spirograph (the 1967 ones have, like, half the wheels and no Y piece. gross) will be mine. Even if I have to Buy Now (you can do that on ebay, you know) or increase my maximum bid to god knows how high. I will own one.

And then I'll post pictures of the cool drawings I make. If somebody can show me how to put pictures on my blog.