if you like me, check this box.

so back in december when i became all single and jazz, i had a little bit of a dating related meltdown. perhaps you remember it? no?

reader’s digest version: 10 years off the market and i found myself completely  clueless about virtually everything dating related or if i would even be attractive to anyone at 34, when the last time i was open for business i was a nubile 24 year old with a temp job and questionable decision making skills.

but at the time, my breakup wounds were fresh, and the actual dating conundrum could wait. i avoided thinking about it. i shopped my way through the move into the bachelor hole. i focused my attentions on the happiness and well being of my true life partner, kazuki.

but here we are 5 months later, and things are all kinds of unexpectedly different (except for kazuki being my soul mate. that’s forever).

i’ll start by telling you a little story about something that happened a few weeks ago:

weekend pickthrough- burlesque blowout edition.

i’m tired. so tired. i have a hard time saying no to experience, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but it tends to deprive me of things like sleep and money and sanity in a way that can make my life a little complicated. oh, and my ability to use and spell words declines steeply on less than 3 hours of sleep.  but, it’s been a pretty incredible couple of weeks.

for those of you who remember the chronicles of my first STRUT performance , and then my follow-up win, and have any interest in finding out how the story ended… i am pleased to announce that I WON THAT SHIT! the whole thing. pretty amazing really, but a longer story than i am conscious enough to tell right now. the cliff’s notes version is that i brought home the final round with a nancy drew inspired number with a hilariously oversized cardboard magnifying glass and some bloody hand print covered lingerie. huge props to my totally excellent and equally deserving competition (holly danger your sexy light-up UFO number rocked my universe), especially twisted cookies who actually tied for first (can you say COOKIE MONSTER SNUGGIE?). i really only won because i conned a lot of friends into coming to see me, and the tie was decided by audience enthusiasm. anyway, it was pretty much one of the coolest things that ever happened to me (thanks again atomic trash!), and yielded some pretty excellent side effects:

1. part of my prize is that i get to perform in the atomic trash 2nd anniversary show in january, so my burlesque career is not yet over!

2. a really awesome local graphic designer (and exceptionally nice chap) read my first article and designed a poster about candy sprinkles for a new font exhibition.

3. i got to bring the nancy drew piece to the burlesque-a-thon in boston this weekend, where i performed it on this terrifyingly giant stage (with 99 other acts, one of which involved A GIANT PLUSH VAGINA).

this third cool thing was rendered slightly less cool by the fact that we didn’t get out until 3:30, and still had 2 hours to drive home, and then had to get up for nutcracker rehearsal at 8:30. ouch. anyway, i’m delirious. and grumpy. and very very stupid right now. so before i make any more ludicrous typos or generally poor word choices…

**UPDATE**

4. candy sprinkles got a really fantastic name check/compliment in this bu online magazine article about the burlesque-a-thon. (read lauren 1-2 am)

researchers race to recover radioactive rabbits (no seriously, that’s actually the title of the article).

for my graphic design peeps, some hilariously infuriating quotes from bad clients. (sort of like overheard in the office with more requests for lens flares).

i adopted jobler! who will you pick?

puppies trump old people any day.

wow. i can’t believe that this is a college student. (the horrors of functional illiteracy)

go kurt vonnegut.

there is literally nothing better than hearing draco malfoy say “justin bieber, he is the man. boo-ya!” in a fake american accent. NOTHING!

is there anything lazier and more wasteful than washing potatoes in the dishwasher?

domestic bliss, stormtrooper style.