Baby, You Can Drive My Car

If you like pop-up books, you will like this video. If you like sweet songs, you will like this video. If you like both... well, then you'll be over the moon.

Lille, by Lisa Hannigan

This evening I treated Diego to a thorough vacuuming and cleaning. Complete with new floor mats and air freshener. Diego is my gold 1995 Toyota Camry and we have been together for 7 years. He has been very well-behaved lately, which is pretty impressive if you know my history with this car. We passed inspection and emissions a few weeks ago and when we went in for our latest oil change he was given a clean bill of health. Well, he was a little backed up with some pretty nasty sludge, but who isn't from time to time? They gave him a nice flush, replaced the coagulated oil, and cleaned up his insides a bit. We did have a little scare yesterday when I drove him home from the mechanic... I saw some smoke streaming out from under my hood - not a lot, but enough to concern me. Yikes. So I checked under the hood and I could smell something was burning, though I couldn't see what it was. Not exactly the blazing inferno I was expecting, but it was still hot hot hot! 


When we took him back down to Big-O to check it out they explained that some of the muddy oil that was in the car dripped down onto my muffler as they were cleaning it out. The smoke was caused by the oil burning off. It's normal, I guess. But they cleaned Diego up a little bit more at no charge and apologized for the panic-inducing smoke caused by the residual oil. Whew! My Diego will ride once more! Go Diego, Go!

Triple D!

Okay, Drop Dead Diva had their Season 3 finale last night and my mom (who was upstairs) said if she hadn't known my sister and I were in the basement watching DDD, she'd have thought there was an axe murderer in the house...

(Side note: My mom is reading a book about Lizzie Borden... you know...

Lizzie Borden took an axe,

Gave her mother 40 whacks,

When she saw what she had done

She gave her father 41.

So every thing's been axe murderers with her lately.)

But yes, we did scream and wail and carry on like a couple of crazies. Words cannot adequately describe the sounds that emitted from our mouths as we watched the final minutes of the show. We were embarrassing. But the show really is quite good. 

The premise: Deb is an aspiring model. She crashes her car on the way to an audition and dies. She presses "return" before she can be admitted into Heaven and her spirit gets sent back to earth. However, she is no longer occupying her own body but the body of a brilliant attorney named Jane. Jane,the polar opposite of Deb in every way imaginable, has recently been shot and rushed to the hospital. However, when she finally comes to she isn't Jane... She's Jane/Deb... Deb's spirit in Jane's body. 

So based on that premise alone, I remember thinking "Oh great, a show where a beautiful model is punished by being put into a heavy a girl's body. Perfect." And of course, I was wrong. 

As the show progresses Deb/Jane discovers that while she has all of Deb's personality and memories, she also has all of Jane's intellect. She's smart - super smart. One major twist in the story is that the day before real Jane was shot she hired a new lawyer at her law firm. That lawyer was Grayson. Grayson was Deb's fiance. Before she died. GASP! So not only does Deb have to pursue this new life as Jane, but she has to do it while working alongside the love of her life who can never know her true identity. It's a rule apparently. If she ever tells him who she really is, there are consequences... It's like this: if Grayson loved Deb for more than just her good looks then it makes sense that eventually he could connect with Deb/Jane as well. That maybe one day he could "see" her. And that is Deb/Jane's torment.

Never fear, Deb/Jane is not completely alone. She has a guardian angel by the name of Fred who is sent to help her along and in a fit of desperation she reveals her identity to her best friend, Stacey. Before she knew what the "rules" were, apparently. They are the only two who know that Jane is Deb and Deb is Jane. Take all that, throw in the occasional musical dream sequence, lots of guest stars (Liza Minelli,  Paula Abdul, Rosie O'Donnell, LeeAnn Rimes, etc.), and a bunch of court cases and you have the show... You follow?

*     *     *

With a formula like that there are bound to be some very entertaining and squeal worthy moments. Last night's finale was no exception. And let's be honest, considering the average American woman is a size 12-14, it's kind of refreshing to see a female lead who may be a little huskier than your standard barely-there TV starlett. Though I may be a little bias... cough, cough... I guess that means the show's like Ally McBeal... if Ally McBeal looked like someone who might exist in real life. 

After all, happy endings on TV aren't always just for the
skinny chicks, right? RIGHT??

I haven't had anything yet... How can I have 'some more' of nothing?

Monday night was spent leisurely lounging around a fire pit in my backyard with my family. We had a couple of my cousins over for a little bonfire cookout - nothing too fancy. The evenings have grown a bit cooler and summer is officially winding down so we thought we'd have one last hurrah. That meant roasting weenies and 'mallows and munching on some corn on the cob. There were lots of  food and an abundance of soda... Soda I did not partake even a single drop of due to my 30-day soda fast. I can't even begin to describe the Diet Coke withdrawals I've had... Not to mention the serious lack-of-caffeine headaches... But that just confirms the fact I was drinking way too much of the stuff - I had become too accustomed to having Coke (delicious, cool, refreshing Coke!) in my system, consuming it practically on a daily basis! So on Monday night I ate my dinner (and ate and ate), sipped my water, and pouted at the bottles of Sunkist and Fresca and Diet Coke. I could not be tempted. So yay for self-control. 

NO. 

Boooooooo...

My cousin's little girl (we'll call her Dora, as she somewhat resembles Dora the Explorah) was in rare form that night. Dancing, spinning, jumping, spazzing, running, and speaking in tongues. She's approaching her third birthday so that kind of thing is still ridiculously cute and socially acceptable. If I try to pull that routine at parties, things get awkward and unpleasant real fast. We discussed many topics with her such as Halloween costumes ("No, I wanna be a BUNNY!!"), how scary Uncle Danny was, how high she could jump, and Krabby Patties (a la SpongeBob Squarepants). She even gave me a clever nick-name... Granny Panny... Uhhhhh... because it rhymes with Krabby Patty? Or maybe she was saying Granny Panties... 

Eventually someone came outside and asked who was ready for S'Mores. We asked Dora, who was in mid-spazz, if she would like a S'More. She  stopped what she was doing and peered at us with a blank, confused stare. I thought I'd help her out so I told her to say "I haven't had anything yet... How can I have 'some more' of nothing?" The blank stare continued. She was considering how best to respond, the wheels slowly turning in her little brain. We waited. Finally, she held up her hand and proudly declared "HAND." Then resumed the practice of spinning like a top and babbling incoherently. Hand, huh? Well, I guess that settles the matter. End of discussion.

When in doubt, say "HAND." 

On a completely unrelated topic, I love this...

Dame Julie Andrews "schlumping."  Bahaha! 

Here Comes the Monday...

It may be Monday... but here is how I am going to approach this week. I'm approaching it with blah-lessness. I'm approaching it with swagger. I may even do a little dance or two. I'm gonna incite flash mob craziness wherever I go, just because I can. Won't you join me?

...After watching these videos, you'll be off to a good start. So take that, Manic Monday! With your 24 hours of harsh weekend-robbing reality and monotonous 9 to 5 drudgery. You are only one day out of seven! And Tuesday isn't so far away, after all!  

Lately Lauren Likes...

THIS podcast from WNYC. It's a nice tribute. 


The new Coldplay album, Mylo Xyloto (out October 24th)... I may or may not have just listened to this song 10,000 times. Of those songs I've heard thus far, we're 3 for 3! I've found if you like Coldplay then you REALLY like them and if you dislike them... you get the idea. They're my cup of tea.

The following song from Ryan Adams' new album Ashes and Fire (out October 11th)... Apparently October is going to be a very good month for music by Lauren's standards.


It is my favorite month.

Maxwell's East Coast Eatery... It's a new Italian restaurant near my place of employment. Last week I ate a slice of pepperoni pizza that was bigger than my face. It was delicious.


Cooler temperatures.


Dancing like a fool. But NOT being recorded dancing like a fool.


Watching fireworks at the State Fair from my Grandma's backyard.


Megamind... Pleasantly surprised! In fact, I think I liked it more than Despicable Me. "Metrocity"... hahahaha.


Maybelline's Falsies mascara. BAM! GLAM!


Having to shout at a woman over the phone today at work. She was so old and so deaf, but so sweet. How do I spell my name? "L-A-U... No, L-A... NO! L-A-U-R... Yes, R... E-N... E as in elephant... ELEPHANT!... NO! L-A-U-R-E-N... E! N!... N as in Nancy!... YES... No?... Okay... Let's start over... My name is Lauren... LAUREN!...L-A-U..." This went on for days.


SAVERS. I will never buy new jeans again! Or books!


Halloween costume planning. Hopefully (crosses fingers) it works. I have high hopes! As in, high Apple Pie in the sky... Here is a clue as to what I'm working on:

And NO, it's not PeeWee Herman or Hello Kitty or the Cat in the Hat...


Hiking in my new hiking duds. My feet have never been happier. 


Fructis conditioner for color treated hair. I don't usually like Fructis. 


Chris Evans.... CHRIS. EVANS. Observe...

GAAAHHH!! I melt.

The color teal.


And... Ellipses...


...Obviously.

Just A Thought

As toilsome I wander'd Virginia's woods

As toilsome I wander'd Virginia's woods, 

To the music of rustling leaves kick'd by my feet, (for 'twas autumn,) I mark'd at the foot of a tree the grave of a soldier; 

Mortally wounded he and buried on the retreat, (easily all I could understand,) 

The halt of a midday hour, when up! no time to lose--yet this sign left, 

On a tablet scrawl'd and nail'd on the tree by the grave, 

Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade. 

Long, long I muse, then on my way go wandering, 

Many a changeful season to follow, and many a scene of life, 

Yet at times through changeful season and scene, abrupt, alone, or in the crowded street, 

Comes before me the unknown soldier's grave, come the inscription rude in Virginia's woods. 

Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade.

-Walt Whitman-

Vehicular Deerslaughter

"Did you know that Emma Thompson and Kenneth Branaugh used to be married...?" Little did I know, those words would be my last. Less than a moment later they were answered with a high-pitch cry of terror. I had barely enough time to glance up from my "searching for signal" cell phone to see what prompted the strange squeal. The realization of what I beheld was simultaneous with the collision of two bodies in motion - the first, a mini-van moving at 50 mph, homeward bound after a holiday weekend in the mountains. The other, a beautiful doe with black eyes, moving swiftly to avoid those dangerous and speedily approaching headlights. Not swift enough. There was no moment to react, to swerve, to brake... Just screams, a great thud, the sound of crunching metal and plastic, the clatter of bones as they hit the pavement... 

"What do we do?!" I ask frantically between shaky breaths. I'm somewhere between laughing and crying, so jarred by the last 7 1/2  seconds that I don't know quite how to react. This time I'm answered with an equally frantic "I don't know! Nothing, I guess?" A question. We don't know what to do. No longer feeling quite so hysterical, a new emotion sets in. Frustration. That stupid deer! That stupid, galumphing beast! Did it think it was any match for a speeding hunk of metal? Was it already going so fast that it didn't have time to slow down or stop? I mean, we were right out in the open, fields on either side of our narrow stretch of road. What goes through an animal's mind when it sees a vehicle moving along the highway like that? Apparently it's "Psh, I'm a lot faster than that piece of junk. Those foolish humans and their fuel-propelled modes of transportation!" Well, we got the last laugh... or horrified scream, as it were. 

After my frustration fades, I begin to feel very sad. That poor deer! That poor, beautiful creature! It's body rests on the pavement in the distance, broken and bloodied. Meanwhile, I have visions of Bambi waiting in the thicket for his mother. "We made it, Mother! We made it!" I stand in the middle of the road as friends approach the animal to inspect the carnage, wanting to be sure it is indeed dead and not suffering. (Though what in the heck would we do if it were still alive? Run over it a few more times to finish the job? Hit it over the head with a frying pan? Strangle it?) Fortunately, we needn't trouble ourselves. The deer was still. No breath. No life. I plead quietly to myself, praying that it did not suffer too terribly, that the impact of the collision was sufficient enough to avoid a prolonged and painful death. 

*      *       *

55 minutes, two highway patrolmen, and one written statement later, we settle back into our vehicles and make our way home, moving cautiously through the moonless night with only a headlight and a prayer to guide us. We drove in sleepy silence. We did not take our eyes from the road, driver and passenger alike. We did not murder anymore jay-walking beasts.

And, regrettably, we did not resume our conversation on Emma Thompson and Kenneth Branaugh.