Will you stay and read my blog and continue to rock my world?

My long overdue and promised blog entry…

What a summer! I don’t think there was a weekend where I didn’t have some running around to do. Just a general update on me and then we will move right into the topic at hand (which is Rock of Love in case you didn’t pick that up from the title of today’s blog).

Dave and I went on a fun filled long weekend to Williamsburg, Virginia to visit good ol' Busch Gardens a couple of weeks ago. For those of you who are unfamiliar, it’s Anheuser-Busch’s (aka Budweiser) authentic theme park modeled after some of the countries of “Europe”. These quotes aren’t just my regular use of literary skepticism. If you happened to catch the update on Busch Gardens from me verbally, you no doubt witnesses my liberal use of “air quotes” when talking about yet another “Fake Europe”. Dave and I are now proud to announce that we believe we have frequented the maximum amount of Fake Europes that any “non-content to stay in Maryland all our lives and never visit anywhere further than 100 miles away” couple can actually visit. This is of course counting Epcot Center in Disneyworld last summer where we partook quite heavily in many of the amenities that a genuine Fake Europe can offer (and Asia, and Africa and Australia…and Mexico). For those of you who watch The Simpson’s you’ll know that Dave and I could not visit Busch Gardens without:

1) Getting loaded (it’s a beer theme park, come on.)
2) Singing the Duff-Gardens song:

“Duff beer for me, Duff beer for you! You’ll have a Duff, I’ll have one too!”

It was a fun trip really. Busch Gardens now offers a private beer tasting where you make a reservation and you walk into this nice bar setting with multiple stations with a presenter sitting in the middle of a semi-circle bar of tasters (that’s us). So they proceed to celebrate Anheuser-Busch’s entire catalog of brewskies and other selected beverages and you get to pick 4 of them to taste (along with cheese, crackers and chocolate – win, win, win). I will say, they have quite an array of beverages ranging from some neon green energy drink with 9% alcohol to a low-cal stout! A malt beverage I believe they called that green stuff. And here we are considering running our vehicles off of CORN?! Try some of that stuff in your engine I say. I steered away from the “colored beer” and stuck with some of the surprisingly good beers. I think I can safely sum up the samples by saying that they tasted like an exact combination of the description given by the presenter for each drink, and a Budweiser. You could always taste the Bud.

Ahh well, it is what it is. So kudos to Busch Gardens for adding a little class to its already snazzy Fake Europe! I felt especially classy when we went to the tasting for the SECOND time, completely soaked from the log flume with my hair in quite a state of frizz, already three-sheets to the wind from the enormous beers we bought in Fake Germany. That’s class. I will try and post some pictures on here in a bit if I can figure out how to.

Next…hmmm…oh! I got a new car. Long story that’s none of your business, but I got a new car and it’s perty. :) It’s a 4 door, 2008 Honda Civic, dark cherry red. Actually TANGO red is what they called it, so anyone who rides in my car has to tango with me first…sorry, Honda rules. Get this…it’s an automatic transmission! My first ever. Of course I did drive with both feet for the first day and a half, desperately searching for the clutch, but I got the hang of it in no time. I would equate it with riding in someone else’s car, but I’m steering. You don’t have to do anything but press on the gas (and break). Here all these years I’ve been missing the luxury of having THREE available limbs to do other things besides drive! Someone should have told me. Don’t worry – I’ve made up for lost time by listening to CDs, finding out what all the new buttons do, eating my breakfast, putting on makeup, talking on my cell phone…you know, the same stuff all the rest of the automatic drivers do on the road. I really fit in now. :)

Onto the very serious commentary regarding the main topic of this blog: Rock of Love. Now I know some of you watched it. I’ve found that I spent most of the season trying to HIDE the fact that I watch it (and force Dave to also), only to find that I’ve heard people talking about it everywhere – undercover. Just last week I was on a conference call with a coworker (around my age) in Des Moines, Iowa, working out some program details and low and behold, Bret Michaels comes up. Don’t ask. Anyway, off we go discussing who he should pick – because naturally, we know.

For those of you who are lost, Rock of Love is a “reality show”, if you want to call it that, on VH1 wherein the one-time-desired, now-not-so-sexy, pretty-sure-that-bandana-is-holding-a-wig-on-his-bald-44-year-old-head, fallen-rock-idol– is searching for his Rock of Love. And WOW what a cesspool he has to choose from. Kind of like the show Flavor of Love with rapper Flava Flav, but built for white trash skanks and a washed up hair-god rather than an insane rapper troll and a house full of black fighting tramps. Same concept really. Now I usually turn my nose up at reality TV but this caught my eye and right off the bat it was like a car crash – impossible not to look at. Like I said, a house full of skanks really makes Bret Michaels look like a winner. And his personality is very entertaining! Everything turns him on. No kidding – he says everything turns him on whether it be the fact that one of the girls in the house is an insane devil harpy from hell (which she was – Lacey) or whether they were not interested in him and were standoffish from day 1 (Jes – ironic huh?).

Anyway – I’m not here to tell you all about the show. As Bret says, “Yo! I need you to CHECK-ME-OUT on the VSPOT!”. That’s VH1’s Rock of Love website:
http://www.vh1.com/shows/dyn/rock_of_love/series.jhtml.

This blog is to comment on the outcome of the season just ended. FIRST of all, I bet Dave $20 that Heather the stripper would win – so thanks for losing me $20, Bret Micheals, you tw*t. I, like everyone else I’ve interviewed on this breaking story, wanted him to choose Jes, but alas I thought Bret seemed the type to pick the stripper…excuse me “exotic dancer”. Especially since it was such a turn on that she had his name tattooed on the back of her neck before they’d even gotten to the elimination round. Brains and beauty! Why wouldn’t he choose Heather? Well the sensibility of choosing Jes finally hit home for Bret – not after she was the only one who didn’t act like a crazed drunken skuzz bag, barfing at the table, fighting in the house, cussing Lacey and her parents out – No. It was when they were in Cabo San Lucas and he almost went into diabetic shock and he asked Jes to shove a big insulin needle in his ass if he slips into a diabetic coma, and…she cried. Wow – what a turn on! Who wouldn’t cry when confronted with stabbing Bret Michaels in the ass with a needle? With anything really! But that meant the world to him and after one final skank-o-meter test where he asked them BOTH to be his girlfriend and Heather the closet lesbian stripper said, “I’d love to” (by the way – she looked drunk the entire show) and Jes said, “I couldn’t share someone I really cared for.” He made the always wise decision of choosing a girl who would remain dedicated to him while he was off humping other sluts on tour, rather than a woman who would come on tour and hump sluts WITH him.

What’s interesting, besides the fact that Heather predictably WIGGED out in the limo leaving the mansion and cursed Bret three ways to Sunday (and made the realization that she’d had his name tattooed on her neck) was that at the reunion show, Jes didn’t give a Damn Yankee about Bret anymore! Six months of waiting to be together so they wouldn’t ruin the show ending and she gets on stage, says he made the wrong decision and should have chosen Heather and then – the show ended!!!!! WTF?! What the hell is that I ask you? I ask you VH1, on behalf of all of us who invested our time in your series only to have this cheap, worthless ending – cheated! Cheated I tell you! And I have a right mind to write them and ask them what kind of climax is THAT in repayment for all of the time spent agonizing over who Bret should pick? Jerks. Well the answer came to me while perusing the “deleted scenes” on VH1 (yeah so what? I did it – I’ve been sick for 10 days, what do you want from me?). Season 2! Here is their chance to make it up to all of us. I’M SURE this time it will be much better. I’M SURE that this time it will really pay off and the ex-rocker of their choosing will really fall for his rock of love!!! My heart swells just thinking about it. But which fallen hair band icon will be the lucky buckaroo to be consistently turned on by major ho-bags??? I present to you…the article that cleared it all up for me (compliments of VH1):

Last month’s announcement of open calls for Rock of Love 2 kicked off widespread speculation on which rocker would rule the house — names like Tommy Lee, Mark McGrath and Dave Navarro batted around the Internet buzz. Now, the VH1 Blog exclusively can reveal that Rock of Love 2 will star none other than Bret Michaels, who’s ready to give reality TV dating another shot after things fizzled with Rock of Love winner Jes. Expect more girls (20, to be exact), more challenges, more turn-ons and more diabeetus in the second season of Rock of Love, which is coming…well, sooner than you might think!

WOW! Thank you VH1! And here I though that my intelligence level and taste may falter without supplement. I get to be judgmental and sanctimonious about 20 MORE girls and experience the emotional roller coaster that is finding our rock of love.

If you care to join me – we can form a Rock of Love discussion club. Monday nights, the day after the show, preferably during Monday Night Football. That stuff’s rubbish anyway. ;)

Later haters!

She's baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!

Wow – I’m actually going to KEEP my promise and blog again! Hooray for me. :)

So let’s see…where to start. I like bullet points…let’s go with bullet points:

*PAYCHECK*

Job is ok. I like to maintain the image that what I do is SO important and keeps me SO busy, that I can barely talk about it - top secret. ;) Truth is, that what I’m doing doesn’t make any significant contribution to this planet, in fact it’s very boring (securities industry insurance). But, you’ll be happy to at least know that I’m excelling in my work place and although I still wouldn’t consider my coworkers my “friends” and you won’t catch any of us heading out for a “happy hour”, I am respected and liked and appreciated…as of right now. I spent the last 2 years really making my way with a difficult group of colleagues, a demanding client, a home office in DES MOINES, IOWA (boooooring) and to quote Peter from the movie Office Space, 8 bosses, Bob. Actually it’s more like 7 bosses, and to be more specific, it’s 3 direct reports and 4 fringe bosses or top execs. It’s rather ridiculous really. As you can imagine, I have a lot of people telling me when I forget to put the cover on my TPS reports…

*SHELTER*

I moved this past January...back to The Burn and in with my sweetheart. This is Dave of course (or you would have seen another bullet point, first and foremost that was titled: “New Mating Partner (I chucked the old one and went gay)”. Things are better than good. I really like living with him. He is great company and we laugh all the time and I can sheepishly report that a few weeks ago we drank 5 bottles of wine on a Monday night and watched ¾ of the movie “The Hustler”. The good part there is that I’ve found someone who can match my partying skills drink for drink. The bad part is FIVE BOTTLES OF WINE?! Disgusting. Even Nikki and I didn’t drink 5 bottles in a night. When people ask me how “living together” is going, my response is usually that it’s going great and we’re having fun and that living with a boy (again) further reinforces my very strong theory that different people just have different interpretations of the concept of “urgent”. Putting one’s clothes and shoes away is not “urgent” in some people’s, erm…mainly guys…minds. This I can live with. I am sure there are many complaints about my living habits and sense of “urgency” and the overall sense of urgency in the minds of all women (mainly in conjunction with bj’s and sandwiches – not to be combined), but this is MY BLOG, so I get to say what I wanna.

*LOVE LIFE*

I don’t want to shock you here, but you may have already guessed that Dave and I are still together. ;) Everything is going well (see paragraph above) and the whole “Living in Sin” thing gets a bad rap (or is that rep?) I could make up a bad rap about it, but I will spare you my cheesiness. I like living with Dave and I like his family and his friends…oh and him. I like him too. I won’t go too far into this section…not because things aren’t just peachy, but because they are private and when have I EVER been known to disclose private information on my blog? Perish the thought. ;)

*DIETING*

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. We’re skipping this one.

*CHILD-REARING*

Yeah…I got nothin. I haven't "reared "any children, lucky for their little bottoms.

*FAMILLE*

The fam is doing pretty well actually. Erin graduated from the University of Maryland at College Park in December and she is working as an assistant to an oral surgeon. When we were waiting in line to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (ON IMAX!!!) she told me how to make a drug cocktail to put someone under for surgery. Neato. This, combined with my in-depth knowledge of forensics ought to be enough to scare those of you who cross me. Chris is alive and well, and has worked his way up within his company and has done really well for himself. I believe he sells roofing, windows and other energy saving solutions. So if you’re in the market, consider using a Lee. Everyone else does. His love life is always sprinkled with interesting factoids, but I will leave that level of divulgence to him (his My Space is linked on the left). If any of you have been around to visit me and have stayed late night, you’ll know that he is an amazing guitar player and every gathering ends in a hell of a hootenanny. Between him and Dave and my dad, there is always music in my life and I love this.

My dad and his family are doing just fine. He is still old and he still has toddlers. Ha-ha. Thankfully though, only a couple of people in his house wear diapers and he is not one of them (I’m cracking myself up here). The twins are now 3 years old (wow!) and cute as can be. If you’d like to check them out, here is the website: http://www.babyhomepages.net/lee/ Dave and I gave them those cute little princess costumes they are wearing in the first few pictures. They are so adorable and they are growing like weeds and talking up a storm. Never a dull moment there. My mom and Stu-ball (this is what we call her main squeeze, Stuart) are doing just fine. They are always out socializing and doing something interesting. I’m glad she’s happy. They both have taken a great interest in Dave’s improvisational blues band, Indigo Church. I’m going to give them a shameless plug in one of the following paragraphs.

*WHERE THE CLUCK HAVE I BEEN?*

Well, mostly I’m busy with work and staying home being an old homebody fart. I get sleepy way too early in the evening, I get hangovers when I drink too much and I don’t feel like buying a bunch of new clothes all the time to stay stylish. Pathetic really. So I spend a lot of time at home when I can. It feels like we’re traveling every weekend of the summer though. I've been on a few trips...last summer (well Fall really) we went to Disneyworld for a week and it was AWESOME! I promised myself I would get on here and blog and post pictures and then I didn’t because I have a propensity towards procrastination, bordering on the tendencies of an “utter failure”. I will try and get some pics up here though. Blogger has made using its program so difficult anymore I think. Seems as if most people are now using My Space to communicate. I’m of course behind on this initiative because I can’t even keep up the blog. I do have a My Space page though (linked to the left on this page), but I don’t use it for anything. I don’t really GET IT. Can you chat on My Space? Probably and I'm just too dumb to figure it out. I don’t see the purpose in posting something on someone’s My Space so that it can send them a link by email to tell them they have a message (that they can’t read unless they log on to My Space). And I am not a fan of the “being logged on to one site and looking for other people to chat with all day and night” thing. If you are and I have offended you, good. You are too old to be hanging out on My Space. Just joking, I’m so far removed from the scene, I don’t know jack. Maybe one of these days I will figure out how to use it to my advantage and make a new page (without an annoying song blaring on my page). I like being able to blog though. I guess you can do that on there too huh? Yeah, whatever. You sweat My Space so hard.

Ok that was a major tangent. Back to “what I’ve been up to”. So we went to Disneyworld and that was awesome. I recommend it highly. You don’t need to have kids to enjoy it highly (or soberly). We’ve also been to Cleveland, Ohio a few times (Dave has friends there, otherwise I do not recommend this as a vacation spot), Cincinnati (and Kentucky) which was actually quite beautiful, and we’ve hung out with Dave’s friends in DC a few times this summer. I miss my friends though, you hussies. I would really like to have more frequent and perhaps smaller (so we can talk) get togethers. I realize this cuts into breeding time, but at the very least it's sure to be fabulous entertainment for one night with yours truly. Anyway, I’m probably forgetting lots of things we’ve done. I am also sure I’m missing a lot of funny blog-worthy stories that have come up in the last two-years, but I will try and post them as I recall them. I will close this particular blog with a good one.

Please feel free to check out the link (on the left) to Dave's band, Indigo Church. A lot of you have seen them perform and I know I am partial, but they really are quite good. They are an improvisational blues/jazz band and they play regularly at Ze Mean Bean Cafe in Fells Point, Baltimore. Every 2nd and 4th Saturday night from 7-11 pm (and they play the Jazz Brunch on the Sunday after the second Saturday - got all that? haha) The food there is pretty good and the entertainment is stellar. So...check out their web page to hear a little bit. Ok, plug over.

*SUMMER-EYES*

Overall, I spend a lot of my time working, commuting (and avoiding crazy, smelly people on the subway), reading (all hail Harry Potter), sleeping or eating. I like sleeping. And eating. I suppose one major factor I may have omitted is that I turned the big three-oh on May 22nd. Not much to comment on other than I had a really nice birthday with Dave and he surprised me and took me to get my hair done, then to Pazo (one of my favorite restaurants: http://www.pazorestaurant.com/) and then to a wine store to sign up for a wine tasting that week that turned out to be full of stuck up wine sniffers. We ate all their cheese though - so there! He also took me to a concert at Ramshead later in the month. It was a Beatles tribute band called 1964 The Tribute. They are excellent and it’s a fun show. I am sure Lindsay will tease me about seeing my “favorite band”. We had a nice time though.

Are you bored to TEARS yet??? I’m telling you…I’m boring now. I guess I have just been sorting my life out for the past couple of years and now I can at least safely say that things are really good. I’m making good money, getting good grades…my future’s so bright….well you know the rest.

Ok, funny story to close with? Ok, twist my arm. :) Last summer Dave and I went to the ocean for a couple of days just to hang out and get away for a day or so. His family had a couple of condos rented for the week and invited us to join them for an overnight stay. So we did. Well once we got there, Dave and I decided to head down to the Boardwalk for a stroll and to indulge in some of our favorite things (i.e.: watching weird people, playing in arcades, reading ridiculous t-shirts, drinking copious amounts of booze and indulging in more caloric intake that is necessary in one week, let alone 3 hours). So at one point we decided we would go to the arcade and check things out. May I also add that we were completely sober at this point? So Dave plays those “electronic drums” and everyone on the Boardwalk listens and stops and it’s very neat. Then we play a little ski ball…and whatever else. As we are leaving, we see this “Strong Man” game where to play, you take this enormous hammer with a rubber mallet and you smack down on this round silver platform and the machine has little lights that rise to your level of strength (with increasing and insulting settings such as: Pip-squeak, You suck, You’re a Schoolgirl, That’s All You’ve Got?, My Grandmother Hits Harder, Marginally Strong, Freakishly Strong, Are You Sure That’s Just One Person Swinging The Mallet?) You get the idea. So naturally, we decided to mollify our competitive nature and play the game. Dave went first. I don’t recall what his rating was. I don’t recall much of that day before it was my turn, and I think this was a direct result of what you're about to read. I stepped up to swing and this is just a small tangent here, but there was this family of 5 that was hanging around the arcade and the dad was using the ATM and this one little kid (like 4 or 5) was so friggin annoying and was standing so close to us while we were trying to play this game and she would not move and her shitty parents wouldn’t tell her to move her dumb ass and so I had to wait like 5 minutes to even swing until they left. I hate people at the ocean. And eveywhere. Also I blame them for what was about to happen. I feel that for me to shoulder the blame entirely is insult to injury. Which bring us back to MY TURN. So I think this is a funny game and I just KNOW that I can hit it as hard as Dave. I just have to! So I raaaaaaaaaaaaise the hammer above my head and slightly behind my back so I can get my full power swing, and I lower that bad boy with every ounce of strength I have in me - because God knows, it’s important to use your strength for things such as this and not for emergencies or anything. So I feel the mallet connect with the metal and vibrate my hands, and then WHAM!!!!!!!!!!! From my perspective, I hit the machine, and then the MACHINE HIT ME BACK! Right in the nose! I’m imagining a red boxing glove coming out of nowhere and punching me in the face as some sort of sick Boardwalk joke. I MUST be on some kind of hidden camera show. I dunno though because I can’t think. I’m SURE that my nose has come off and that my hands to my face is the only thing holding my entire blood supply near to my body. My eyes are completely teared up and my head ….Oh my head!

So what really happened, you ask??? Dave could tell this story much better – but I will take a “whack” at it. The GD hammer was RUBBER and rubber bounces (as proven by The Nutty Professor). When I swung, I swung straight down from above my heads and not from over my shoulder. Although I am almost completely retarded for not expecting this, apparently my swing was straight and accurate. It hit that metal platform and bounced directly back into my face, straight on. As hard as I hit the platform, I am convinced, is how hard the hammer hit me in the face. But good news! I did not fall over…I remained standing. When I came-round, I went directly from crippling pain right into “Embarrassment Control” mode. Luckily enough, NO ONE saw this but Dave. At the very least, we are hoping that no one caught it on video because according to him, they would surely win $10,000 on America’s Funniest Videos. He handled it like a champ though. He did not laugh (initially) and was very concerned and then once the pain started to subside and the humiliation stopped burning through my every vein, we went for a beer at the Purple Moose and he proceeded to tell me how it was simply UNBELIEVABLE. Not only hilarious but just friggin unbelievable. Only me. You will be so surprised to know (as was Dave) that I didn’t bleed a single drop. I had a small scratch on my nose and a splitting headache. I didn’t even get black eyes or a broken nose or anything. I personally think this was some sort of miracle. He can attest to the fact that I hit my face HARD. Only me though, right? That’s your Laura Lee. Otherwise the trip was pretty low key. I did spill boiling hot butter all down the front of my shirt the next night in front of his whole family, but that’s just expected now, isn’t it?

I will leave you now. That was loooooooong blog. I will be back soon and I promise to keep my stories interesting and shorter. Ok, well I can promise interesting.

Later bloggies! Thanks for returning to me!

End of an Era: A Well-Deserved Tribute

Yoo hoo? Hi everyone!

I’ve been gone for a long time. It’s been almost a full year since my last blog entry. Perhaps I should actually reintroduce myself or have some sort of a showy “coming out” soiree like they do in the Deep South. “I do declayaaa!” I have really missed writing and even more so, I’m responding to the enormous outcry from you all to pleeeeeeeazzze blog again, oh great one! I hear your pleas and I have responded because…if nothing else, I am your most humble servant. Emphasis on the humble part. ;)

So yes…I’ve missed you. And hopefully you’ve missed me too. You deserve an update on the last two years of my life and I will give it to you, but not this time. This entry is dedicated to something very dear to me; it’s brought me out of hiding and cured me of my blogging refugee status. Here’s hoping at least. Today’s bloggsterpiece was inspired by some of the most creative writing and literary genius I might ever see in my entire lifetime. And I think you know me well enough by now to know that I’m not about to talk about some high-brow, granola-crunching, beatnik lit here. I implore you not to simply brush off my editorial today as “another one of her mad ravings” and trust that I’m one hip mama, even in my agedness, and I would never point you in the wrong direction.

If you had a galleon for every time you heard the phrase “Harry Potter”, you’d be a rich witch or wizard. You would of course be no where near as rich as JK Rowling, the author and creator of the Harry Potter series. This woman is larger than life. However, she is most deserving. There are too many millionaires (many times over) that walk this planet today; making more money that even MC Hammer could spend in a lifetime. And they’ve contributed squat to this planet and even less (than squat) to my life. Thankfully, Rowling imagined us a world to which we could retreat any time we desired. A world with magic we’ve all dreamed of making, whether it was while day dreaming, stressing, loving, or learning.

As you may have guessed, I have now finished the 7th and final installment of the Harry Potter series. I actually finished it at about 3:30am this morning. Pathetic, you say. But it has to be said, that there exists very few indulgences that I would stay up for almost three straight days just to finish! It was incredible. If I had it in me, I'd read it again today if it weren’t for an emotional exhaustion that has washed over me in its wake. Worry not! I’m no spoiler. I would never dream of blotting the experience for one who wanted an opportunity to sense the pure unadulterated fun that is indulging in Harry Potter.

JK Rowling is more than a writer, she is a creator and a teller of tales. The way she fashions her characters – all of them – captures some piece of you as an individual and makes you feel that much more real. A word, a sentence, a chapter is never just that. Every person, place, object and spell in her book is rooted with history, mythology, humor and sharp wit. Today I am gloomy that that this thing, this experience, this part of my life has come to a close. But she’s done a masterful job of leading us through 7 years in the life of Harry Potter and brought us to a fitting end. Although I am deeply saddened that it cannot go on forever and ever, I’m not sure if I would want it to. It was, essentially – perfect.

You may be thinking, “What a complete nutter she is!” or if you’re a witty one like Rowling you’d say I was nuttier than squirrel poo. And you’re right. I am a little crazy. I’m a lot of things. I am many versions of myself. And I am creative and compassionate and funny (and again…very humble!). And above all of these things, right now, I am inspired. Inspired to be the imaginative, entertaining woman I know I am for all of you. To put down my stories and ideas and ridiculous banter and hope that I too could one day inspire someone like the writing of JK Rowling has inspired me. The fact that this series is such a huge part of modern pop-culture may be a turn-off to some. Fads come and go….Beanie Babies, Pokemon, Barney, and for those of us who can go back in time a little…Cabbage Patch Kids and GI Joe. But innovations this extraordinary will live on forever. I will share these stories with my children and their children as well. They deserve to be enlightened and inspired as I have been. I can think of no greater gift than narratives.

Throughout the last decade, Rowling has taken us into a dimension of fantasy made entirely in her mind. It wouldn’t be far fetched to compare her to a literary god or creator…she created a world: a governing body, a language, a monetary system, a school, creatures, beasts, families, art and history. People will remember her notions like that of JRR Tolkien’s (add a bit of modern wit and humor). Seven years at Hogwart’s, brought us into the lives of her characters and we were them. They we’re our friends and companions and secret escapes. We experienced from afar their thoughts, their trials and tribulations, their love, devastation and fear. We grew up with them. She left no nook or cranny unexplored. A story was woven with very few things left unanswered. I have never read anything and felt such an incredible spectrum of true emotion as I have when reading these books. To me it is real. Now, before you go admitting me to St. Mungo's, please remember that I can be quite a passionate person who’s been known to partake in hyperbole. But it was real to me, in the sense that it was something that has been a part of my life for nearly a decade and I am an improved version of myself because of it.

People tease me all of the time and say what a huge nerd I am and chide me for loving what they essentially view as children's books, but I just can't imagine never having read them. They were so much more than that to me. I’ve experienced very few things in my life that have touched me so deeply and entertained me for as long as this series has. I’ve known marriages that were shorter than my bond with Harry Potter. ;) My point is that I am lucky to have known this delight and to have had the chance to dive into a great fantasy anytime I wanted. When I felt lonely, scared, tired, bored, broken-hearted and even when I was the happiest I’ve ever been in my life…it fit.

So thank you Jo, for giving me Harry. Thank you from all of us for the gift of your incredible imagination. It’s meant the world to me. That comfort and enchantment was there for me in both the best and worst of times in my life and if I have to be known as the biggest dweeb-muggle that ever walked the face of this planet for loving Harry, then so be it. He and Hermione and Ron (and the lot) were good friends to me, if being a friend means being someone who makes you laugh, comforts you, enthralls you and who is always there. All I have to do is pick up a book. Hands down, Harry Potter is one of my most favorite pastimes – it’s a part of me because it’s what moves me.

Now, I suppose I can give the Potter eulogy a rest since I’ve said it all (and then some). It’s the end of an era. If you haven’t read the series, I urge you to do so. If you “just couldn’t get into it”, I urge you to give it another go. As an intelligent, creative, funny woman I can promise you that you will grow to love the world she has created just for you. Instead of watching, “So you think you can drool” or “Big Brothel” or “American Imbecile” on TV this week, consider cracking open The Sorcerer’s Stone and treating yourself. You will never regret it.

Stay tuned for the “life update” blog that I promise to post. Those of you who’ve stuck with me through this oh-so-serious blog, thank you. Don’t worry, I’ll be back to acting inappropriate and simple in the very next entry. I just wanted to pay homage to something that in today’s world is a bright shining star!

Three cheers for Harry!

Fire in the hole!!!

Guess how many Weight Watchers points is in a (hmm let me consult the menu)...Jumbo half-smoke with mustard, onions and of course, firey chili?

Second question: How many bottles of Extra Strength Pepto Bismal is it going to take me to level out after one of those bad-boys?

Now, refigure your answers to questions 1 and 2, adding a chili cheese fries. :P

Now, add to that a chocolate milkshake, two Angina pills and some sort of upper to bring me out of the chili-induced coma I'll be in, and that's what I have to look forward to tonight! WOO HOO!
So as you might have guessed...I'm going to Ben's Chili Bowl tonight. For those of you are unfamiliar with Ben's (and for those of you who are going to scream in vegetarian horror...JEANNA), it's a long running, heart-attack friendly hot dog shop in Northwest Washington, DC. This establishment, as Dave's friend Reuben likes to say, is legitimate. It's the favorite fast food stop for famous bruthas such as Bill Cosby and Denzel Washington. In fact, one or both of them worked there! Being very near to everything in NW, including the Howard University campus, as you can guess the clientele is quite eclectic. :) It will be even MORE SO tonight when thelauralee goes in and cleans that joint OUT! Ya heard? ;)

Some of you (those closest to me...And some EVEN CLOSER) might recall the last time I had Ben's Chili Bowl...The next day was the 2005 WHFestival in Baltimore. I had to stop three times in random bathrooms on the way to the stadium just to RECTify the situation and sooth the havoc Ben's can wreak on the human digestive system. Yes bloggies, I'm actually talking about poop on my blog. Those of you who know me know how staunchly adverse I am to the mere mention of poops and farts, let alone JOKES about them...so this is no laughing matter. Ben's will graciously burn a hole right in your ass and leave you asking for more. Of course it's been over a year since I've been back, and there is probably some reason for that...oh right...the diet. Oh and my asshole asked me not to go back for 365 days. I obliged.

To be honest, I'm probably going to get something a little less fatal and go for either the turkey burger or the JUMBO turkey hotdog, which they affectionately refer to as 'The Big One!" at Ben's. Mmmm y'all know how badly I'm hurtin for The Big One, dontcha? ;) wink wink. Also, I would like to point out Ben's liberal use of the measurement referred to as a "load". According to Dave, this is an exact measurement (ie: covered with 'loads' of hot delicious chili). I also find it intriguing that Ben's will sell their 'chili' by the GALLON as well! I'm thinking of getting a gallon or so, seeing as how Drano has become so expensive, and my long ratty hair has a tendency to regularly clog drains. $10.00 in chili could save me a $250 security deposit somewhere! That's just smart math! (right Lindsay?)

So wish me luck at Ben's! Hey...aren't you going to ask why we're going to Ben's??? Ok I'll tell ya ;) We're going to a show at the 9:30 Club. The band is called The White Buffalo. You know, the name of this band reminds me of a really disgusting saying that I've heard a particularly perverted and VERBOSE young man say to me before and that is: "I'm so horny I could shampoo a buffalo." I wonder if he meant The White Buffalo? Eww God I hope not. I don't think this guy would like it: The White Buffalo I mean he looks like a scraggly hippy but I doubt he wants THAT. Only I like things like that, because I'm a dirty whore! haha ;) jk Anyway-- back on topic...they are supposedly a folky-funky jam band that I'm going to like (I am assured). I have never seen them, but I am looking forward to broadening my horizons and jammin out. I'm also looking forward to having my purse searched for drugs at the door to the 9:30 Club, and having them see how pathetic I am when all they discover are 5 rolls of unopened chewable Rolaids. Mmmmm I'm getting high on bismuth tonight baby! haha Top off a lil Ben's with a couple Bud drafts and I'll be spewing all over The White Buffalo man myself! Ewww....

Ok-- I'm going to save y'all from a RAGING case of motor-mouth and the inability to avoid a stream of consciousness here and sign off. BUTT, I wanted to give you a chance to wish me (and my hineyhole) a safe and happy trip to Ben's :) Mmmmm delicious!

Check it out! Ben's Chili Bowl

(cue fart noises....)

I knew it!

Dave once asked me which Disney character was my favorite (or who I most resembled). I thought about it for a few weeks actually (yes, I know, productive). I came out of it saying that I was like TWO characters. Donald and Goofy. Mostly Donald, with the temper and being misunderstood and being 'ever so put upon' when all I want to do is have a little fun. :) At the same time...I'm quite the Goofy. So, it has been officially documented and proven today folks...here it is:

Your alter ego is Donald Duck! Try as you might, you have a nasty temper that is hard to control. But you try hard to please, and you arn't one to go down without a fight. Donald Duck 88% Goofy 69% The Beast 56% Peter Pan 38% Snow White 31% Pinocchio 31% Ariel 31% Cinderella 25% Sleeping Beauty 25% Cruella De Ville 0% Which Disney Character is your Alter Ego? created with QuizFarm.com

Now, you tell me what you are!

Vacation, all I ever wanted...

Ok, first things first...is 10:47 too early for lunch? ;)

I'm bored out of my gourd. EVERYONE and I mean everyone I work with including the client is on vacation for 2 weeks. Of course I can't do anything, at least not anything important, so I'm just passing the time and suffering severe ennui (that's "boredom", just in case you're not Eric).

I am so ready to blow this popsicle stand for the day and it's before noon. I don't even have much to say to you except report in that yes, I am in fact still here and yes, I am very idle. Let's see, what's new with thelauralee?

My return flight from Des Moines was very Desmoinesy. First of all I was hungover as hell and the flight was at 6:55AM. The new airport restrictions required me to somehow rise from a drunken stupor, face down in my underwear, in order to catch my 5am cab that I called while trashed off my ass the night before. Apparently, that evening I'd also entered the family club suite where they serve "hot snacks" and drinks until 10pm, stumbled over to the food area and managed to score 4 meatballs with sauce in a bowl, and then escape WITH the bowl past the girl manning the desk (who was all of 18 years old) and to my room. The next morning, next to the bar area in my room was the same bowl of said meatballs, but there were now only 3 meatballs in the bowl. Oh and a lot of sauce slung all over the wall, the lamp shade, the ice bucket, and somehow...the shower curtain. All I can say is...I don't know. I found 1/4 of a meatball on the floor near the door. So I'm left to assume that I consumed 3/4 of a giant saucy meatball (apparently in every square inch of the suite I was staying in) before passing out. How disgusting. And this was a BUSINESS TRIP! Every trip to Des Moines I promise myself I am NOT flying back drunk. Yet I've yet to remember ANY business trip where I've flown back without a hangover. How nice that must be to have a comfortable flight. I wonder if I will be like that on the way back from MY vacation. Probably not. Not on my dollar. haha

I guess you wouldn't believe it but those corn-fed peeps out there in the great state of Iowa can drink your ass under the table. They certainly can drink me under the table. Literally. I'm feeling the fact that I'm nearly 30, more and more every day. To be more specific, every time I get hammered. And it was BUD LIGHT DRAFT too....eww. Anyway, so that's my return flight story. I don't remember much beside trying to keep down the big technicolor yawn and trying to sleep. No one sat next to me (or behind me) though so that was nice. Probably nice for the passengers as well.

So I got home from a very flat but enjoyable Iowa ("Go State!" as they say) on Thursday. Friday morning, David and I left for Ohio. See, I'm on a tour of all states where the night life is really kickin. ;) One of his best friends got married this past weekend and I was a guest. It was a beautiful wedding and very emotional (at least for me). I still find weddings take a lot out of me. I just hope that these people really think about what they are doing and I do wish them the very best in their lives. I don't mean 'these people' as in Dave's friends, I just mean these people who marry one another every day. They have these big beautiful weddings and stand up there and make their promises and then walk down that road, hopefully together. Of course these friends of his were about 30. That's probably the best time to get married...close to 30, since you have a better grasp on who you are by the time you're 30. So yeah, erm, that's my wedding advice for the day. haha You're gonna want to write that one down. ;) Anyway, it was beautiful and had an open bar. To me, that's perfection. Dave's friends are all a lot of fun and every time I see them, there are great laughs to be had. They are so tight knit, it feels like a cool clique I finally got picked to be in (auxiliary as my position my be). Anyway- I like them, they are funny. I hope they like me too. I like Dave the best though...just so you know. ;)

The drive to Ohio was 6.5 hours, and I'm proud to say I MADE IT! Anyone who has been in the car with me during an extended period knows how I get. I have my breaking point where I just revert to a childlike state and get very restless until there is eating. It kicked in on the way home around Frederick, MD, so that's pretty good huh? I did spazz out a little though, but it included a good double fist-pullin horn-honk request from a big rig next to us...but hey man, he honked. :)

I will have you all know that it is exactly 33 days until my trip to DISNEYWORLD! Woo-hoo. That's pretty much one month, jerks! Can you believe it? I haven't been in 20 years! I am so friggin excited. I can't wait to take off. I hope work leaves me alone that week. I can't WAIT! We've been planning this since June and it's going to be super rad. :) Also, I don't know if you are aware of this but it's just about FOOTBALL SEASON again! Whew...the off season wasn't so bad now was it? I can't wait! And we're going to be going to Disney right around the same time. AND, then it's CHRISTMAS! YEY! I guess life isn't so bad. At least I get to go on my vacation once everyone is back and mourning theirs. tee hee. I haven't been on vacation in over 5 years, so I'm about due wouldn't you say? I've never even taken a whole week off from work except once when I got my gall bladder removed and that wasn't the best vacation I've ever had. I'm just being honest.

Ok, this blog sucked. I'm sorry I don't have more to share with you. I'm not funny anymore (sniff). If something comes up though, you'll be first to know.

Miss you losers!

ps: someone needs to have a party. I'm feeling like I need a little get together to hold me over until vacation. So yeah, um, you should get started on that. :)

Why, I oughtta....!

Ok, so I've only blogged 18 times in 2006 (half of which were in January...guess I got a good start and crapped out). I'm sorry. I bet you guys don't even "read me" anymore. I am a washed up art-teest. Alas...and I'm only 29. Which brings me to another point. I'm getting old.

So, I'm in Des Moines, Iowa this week again. You guys may remember the last time I was here (Christmastime) and I kept a log of my boredom. It's not much more exciting this time either, however my job has become much more involved in between visits, leaving me little or no time to blog, except for when I visit the home office in IOWA! haha So that's what brings me to you today bloggies...

Oh yeah, so why I'm old. Well I just can't seem to fit everything in. I can't even imagine what it would be like to have kids. On the flight here, this little brat kicked my seat the WHOLE WAY TO DES MOINES, and I had to keep reminding myself to be patient...he was just a little boy. I try to do little exercises in patience so that by the time I actually do put my crusty old ovaries to work and possibly bring Damien II into this world, I will have the patience of a young mom. :( I worry about that...getting set in my ways and not being able to adapt to a child. I just automatically expect people NOT to kick my seat or yell and throw fits for 2.5 hours straight, no matter what size they are. But you just can't hold kids to the same standards. I tried to imagine my little 2 year old sisters on a 2 and a half hour flight and what they would be like. Then I quickly tried to think of something else because that was a horrifying thought--haha. Yikes.

Anyway, here I am trying to exercise the utmost patience with this rugrat who is traveling with his clueless dad. Dad is absolutely oblivious to the possibility that he might want to mind his child and try to keep him entertained so that he's at least somewhat stationary for the better portion of the flight. No, he was out of his seat and kicking and throwing things and hitting me in the head with one of those weird bat things that stadiums are giving away at baseball games now that you knock together. The dad is happy because one of his 2 kids he is traveling with is not screaming (they all have on the same shirt, by the way, with the family's last name on the back and a number like a team. Gay.) This father has bare minimum standards where traveling with youngins is concerned. I can appreciate that, but come-on man. By the end I would have liked to sit behind the dad for just 30 mins and kick and carry on the whole time and see if he noticed. Just because it was a five year old's foot doesn't mean it wasn't terrible and it also doesn't mean its not a hard enough kick to knock over a Budweiser. MINE. Yes....its true. It happened. So sad. Anyway, moving on.

So I was trying really hard not to do much but kind of wildly look behind me, in only the way a WOMAN who is trying to send a message without SAYING anything, would (ie: the turn around to indicate to the talker in the movie theater that he/she is annoying). It's barely perceptible, but angry indeed. I was trying so hard to exercise control though. My mantra: He's only a little boy. He's only a little boy... So by the end of this flight the woman next to me was FURIOUS. I don't know why, her seat wasn't kicked nearly as much as mine, but nonetheless she turns around and tells the man: "I realize he is only a little child, but I also have realized during this flight that he is not a child with manners. Good day to you." She didn't have an English accent, though that would have been fitting, no? Anyway, the guy is just standing there clueless with this look on his face like, 'Bitch what is your problem?'. He then says, "If something was bothering you mamn, you should have said something politely during the flight." She ignored him and walked on.

SO...the question here is: who is right? I can see both sides. On one hand, she handled it well and kept her cool and didn't yell or scream or try to parent his kids or curse or anything. She just stated her issue. POST HASTE though. That's the thing. Is he right? Should she have just said something to him earlier on and then it would have been taken care of? Later on at the baggage claim she stood next to me and said, "That gentleman shouldn't have to be told that his children are behaving badly. Not if he's a full-time dad." Ahhhhh...so there we have it. She's a scorned single mom. haha No, just kidding. She's probably right. They are both right. (Meanwhile his kids are running wilding around the baggage carousel like animals). But I, naturally, not having anyone in the world to worry over but myself (well, not REALLY), thought only of myself... Should I have said something? I figure I only have a right to say something if I've walked a mile in someone else shoes. Anyone's shoes should do ;) j/k I mean if I've been a parent. What, are they not supposed to travel? Maybe they needed to fly to get where they were going. Maybe the dad was doing all he could to keep the kid under control and that was the best he could do. MAYBE, that WAS 'good' for that child. Maybe he's a terror with a raging case of Turrett's Syndrome. You just never know. Maybe he was just 5 and tired of sitting. I read once that a child will say the words, "Mom, look at me." or "Look at me" an average of a thousand times a day or some crazy # like that. That's pretty needy and antsy combined. I myself was done with that flight about an hour in and wanted to get up and run around in a circle for no apparent reason. It had a little to do with having my chair kicked 8000 times, but in all actuality, I can't handle long drives either. Just too busy. :)

So maybe we have more in common with children than we think. I think I am too busy to get it all done...mind always running...'What do I have to do next? What did I forget?' I suppose I could try for five minutes to imagine what that would be like to feel that way, but without the guilt and pressure of being an adult. That kid had a lot to get done that day and this flight was just impeding his plans (which appeared to be squirming and running around and yelling and hitting things).

So, I held my tongue and didn't say anything. I thought that was the right thing to do. What do you think? Think I should have made a fuss? I don't think it was my place (unless I was hungover then, all bets are off). But apparently, Dad thinks someone should have let a guy know. Hey, I've been on a plane with a screaming baby. I've sat next to a kid with a runny nose and cough on the metro. I've even held a 2 year old while she proceeded to try and get out of my death grip for 30 minutes straight until she just fell asleep (waking up intermittently, only to try and get away before quickly dozing back off). But I've never been a parent on the other end of that. I've never had to endure the eye rolling of people seeing me coming with my kid to sit near them. I've never had to travel with a sick or exhausted or hungry baby. So maybe if I have patience now...God will reward me in parenthood and give me good children. Please oh please oh please.

I think there is VERY little chance of that though...wouldn't you agree? ;) Y'all know me. Hey, check out this lil article. I think I might put this one in the vault for future use. I imagine I'll have a lil "loose talker" when my time comes.

Ok...gotta go squirm ;) I'll update ya later blogsters! Love to you all.

Ridin the cotton pony this week

Will someone get me a pizza and one of those enormous Hershey's kisses already? This kid knows what I'm talking about...