i am an avid retainer wearer. in fact i have been known to inspire people all over the world to wear their retainers. it has been like seven years since i have had my braces off, but i still like clockwork wear my retainer to bed every night. (well at least my bottom one, because that's the only one i have. long story). call me crazy but i swear my teeth move if i miss a night. despite the years of practice i still have a hint of a speech impediment while wearing it. i like to call it a hint, but i am pretty sure it's fairly obvious. not only does it sound like i have something in my mouth, but i also cannot properly say my s's. instead they come out with a hiss in front of them. so basically every time i say a word with a S, i end up sounding like a five year old doing a snake sound impression.
recently my teeth have been bugging me a bit, so i'm trying to wear as much as i feel socially acceptable. i am sure it's completely all in my head, but it makes me feel better anyway. so this morning i decided to wear it to work, because i was just going to be talking to children, it won't matter, right?
WRONG!
somehow in the heat of the decisive moment i overlooked the fact that i teach sssSwim le-ssSSss-on-ssS. and surprisingly enough, i never noticed it before, the letter S is frequently prevalent in words used to teach swimming. i'll just give you a quick rundown.
Me (calling the next kid into the water) ssssS-u-sssS-an!
Me: Hi, I'm Lauren, come on in. Okay, hold your goggle-ssssS to your eyeball-sssS
Me: How are you? oh goood, How old are you?
Me: Oh, sssssS-even (of course) that would put you in ssssS-econd grade? (yep, this is my life.)
Me: alright well let-ssssS ssssS-tart with ssssS-ome free-ssssS-tyle. 2 lap-ssssS
Me: make sssS-ure you start with a sssssS-treamlime. and keep your head to your ssssS-houlder.
Me: ready sssssS-et GO!
Me: awe-sssS-ome job. let-ssssS do a few lap-ssssS of brea-sssS-t sssS-troke now.
I think you can get the picture. I will have you know that this didn't end. I proceeded to hiss my S's for an entire four hours, while all my coworkers looked at me like i was crazy. i sympathize for those with lisps, because there is really no escaping the letter S. couldn't X be the letter lispers have trouble with. it would be a lot less cruel.
well i hope you enjoyed a piece of my embarassssssing life. have a sssssS-pectacular day!
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
i uh like clothes
i am an apparel design major. or for those of you who don't feel like getting technical i pretty much major in fashion. but fashion design, not merchandising like Lauren Conrad of the hills. i actually draw, and make patterns, and drape and sew. not to bash my fellow apparel majors, but sometimes it seems that any jack and jane who wear clothes feel like they should be able to major in fashion. and that frustrates me. i have wanted to do this ever since i was a little kid. i took sewing lessons in middle school, i have made countless halloween costumes, i made my parents by me fashion drawing books, and i even kept a very sad little portfolio in my awesome fivestar canvas covered three ring binder. sewing and creating has been a passion of mine for a long time, and i'm happy that i am finally pursuing it as a some what grown up. other than the fact that i know i enjoy my major, i know nothing else. i have no idea what i want to do, where i want to go, and how i plan to get there.
i respect a lot of the people who share my major, and it's awesome to be around so many people who think creatively and are so talented. but sometimes us fashion majors just crack me up, and here is a little anecdote that hopefully will bring a smile to your faces as well.
so this semester i am taking a textiles lab. it's a legit one unit lab class, with counters, white coats, gloves, goggles, and crazy contraptions. but don't be fooled, this is totally a fashion class and here is why. the other day we were doing burn tests on different fibers, man made and manufactured, to see what happens when they come in contact with flame. this is very important because linen for example goes up in flames very rapidly, and therefore if you spend a lot of time near fires, linen probably is not the fabric for you. the teacher asked us to please put on protective goggles as a safety precaution. she passed them out, and i, being the person i am put them on no questions asked. i heard some grumbling from people around me, and some girls asked if they could just wear their sunglasses. i was too preoccupied with watching my swatches engulf in flames that i tuned it all out. about fifteen minutes later i look up to see almost half the class sitting their burning their swatches in their over sized dior and chanel sunglasses. and right then i had to sit back, enjoy the moment, and accept the fact that we officially are the laughing stock of all lab classes.
take it from those fashion students, you can learn while still being trendy too!
i respect a lot of the people who share my major, and it's awesome to be around so many people who think creatively and are so talented. but sometimes us fashion majors just crack me up, and here is a little anecdote that hopefully will bring a smile to your faces as well.
so this semester i am taking a textiles lab. it's a legit one unit lab class, with counters, white coats, gloves, goggles, and crazy contraptions. but don't be fooled, this is totally a fashion class and here is why. the other day we were doing burn tests on different fibers, man made and manufactured, to see what happens when they come in contact with flame. this is very important because linen for example goes up in flames very rapidly, and therefore if you spend a lot of time near fires, linen probably is not the fabric for you. the teacher asked us to please put on protective goggles as a safety precaution. she passed them out, and i, being the person i am put them on no questions asked. i heard some grumbling from people around me, and some girls asked if they could just wear their sunglasses. i was too preoccupied with watching my swatches engulf in flames that i tuned it all out. about fifteen minutes later i look up to see almost half the class sitting their burning their swatches in their over sized dior and chanel sunglasses. and right then i had to sit back, enjoy the moment, and accept the fact that we officially are the laughing stock of all lab classes.
take it from those fashion students, you can learn while still being trendy too!
Saturday, September 12, 2009
she could be a sailor....with that mouth
i love to curse. i really do. i don't know if it stems from some psychological thrill to do something i was forbidden to do as a child, but there is really something so satisfying about the way "fuck" just rolls out of your mouth.
i also think that sometimes it's absolutely necessary. there just isn't another word in the english vocabulary that carries that weighty meaning. when you slam your knee into the table, and there is no way that "ow" will suffice in explaining just how much that hurt, "fuck" would be the appropriate exclamation there. or when you meet someone and they are dumb. like beyond dumb, why dance around with wimpy words like "really" or "very," when we could just jump straight to the point and say "they were fucking dumb."
i have also heard every once in a while that a lady should not use such horrible words. one time i had a woman tell me and a group of my friends that we made her ashamed to be a woman. what i say to that is first off, times are a changing. i think it's finally a time where we are beginning to accept people for who they are, and therefore i don't think i should have to conform, just because i'm female. second, i am not now, nor will i ever be a classy lady. it was a nice dream once, when i was a child, but it's a harsh harsh world, and pumps, white gloves, and pearls just isn't ever going to work for me. i'm too into being tacky with bright colors, chipped nail polish, and "tousled" waves. it's a tough break, but i think i'll settle for this kitsch life. as long as i still get to keep "fuck" as part of my vocabulary.
of course there will still be people in the world who don't approve of my love of such provocative words, but here is a little tid bit i read today and found very interesting. according to cosmo magazine, people who curse more, have less aggression and anger in their lives. apparently fighting that urge to shout the f word, allows said aggression to build up in your system. well that's all the persuasion i need. since this is practically a doctor written perscription, i won't be able to resist, saying "fuck" every once in a while is actually good for my health. and or course i want to be healthy.
i do however believe there is a time and a place for using such language. for example i am very good about turning it off around children, and other such inappropriate situations. but for those of you out there on the fence about it, just say "fuck it' and let the satisfaction flow threw your body. beware though, it's a thrill you might not be able to give up.
i also think that sometimes it's absolutely necessary. there just isn't another word in the english vocabulary that carries that weighty meaning. when you slam your knee into the table, and there is no way that "ow" will suffice in explaining just how much that hurt, "fuck" would be the appropriate exclamation there. or when you meet someone and they are dumb. like beyond dumb, why dance around with wimpy words like "really" or "very," when we could just jump straight to the point and say "they were fucking dumb."
i have also heard every once in a while that a lady should not use such horrible words. one time i had a woman tell me and a group of my friends that we made her ashamed to be a woman. what i say to that is first off, times are a changing. i think it's finally a time where we are beginning to accept people for who they are, and therefore i don't think i should have to conform, just because i'm female. second, i am not now, nor will i ever be a classy lady. it was a nice dream once, when i was a child, but it's a harsh harsh world, and pumps, white gloves, and pearls just isn't ever going to work for me. i'm too into being tacky with bright colors, chipped nail polish, and "tousled" waves. it's a tough break, but i think i'll settle for this kitsch life. as long as i still get to keep "fuck" as part of my vocabulary.
of course there will still be people in the world who don't approve of my love of such provocative words, but here is a little tid bit i read today and found very interesting. according to cosmo magazine, people who curse more, have less aggression and anger in their lives. apparently fighting that urge to shout the f word, allows said aggression to build up in your system. well that's all the persuasion i need. since this is practically a doctor written perscription, i won't be able to resist, saying "fuck" every once in a while is actually good for my health. and or course i want to be healthy.
i do however believe there is a time and a place for using such language. for example i am very good about turning it off around children, and other such inappropriate situations. but for those of you out there on the fence about it, just say "fuck it' and let the satisfaction flow threw your body. beware though, it's a thrill you might not be able to give up.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
this stuff i can't make up.
so i decided it was time to dye my hair again. i'm naturally a very dark brunette, but since i have taken to working in a swimming pool that possibly contains acid, instead of water, it tends to lighten up over time. i figured this would be the best time to do it, because it's going to need a week or so to fade from the black it always turns out to be, and then it will be a perfect dark brown, just in time.
i open the box, mix the two bottles together and spread it all over my hair, in what i like to think is a well thought out process. it's not though. it never works out. i always end up with hair dye EVERYWHERE. and this time it's bad. i mean my arms are turning black, my neck is developing cheetah spots, and it seems i thought my hairline was about two inches lower than it really is. but i keep powering through. no time to stop now, i'll deal with the splotch removal when i'm in the shower. i scoop all my freshly dye covered hair together and put it in a bun on the top of my head, and sit to patiently wait my twenty five minutes.
a couple minutes before i'm due for a rinse, i head into my bathroom to check out my shower head, because the pressure has been pretty lame the past few days. i assume there is some cloggage so i unscrew the contraption, shake it all out, and put it back together. then i turn the water on, and all the sudden nothing is coming out of the shower head now. which goes to show, i am not always such a "Fiona fix-it," because no water is definitely considerably worse than low pressure water. i can feel the panic rise in my stomach, what do i do, i don't have time for this problem, i need to get the dye out.
i futz around for a few more minutes, screwing, unscrewing, and not the good kind. eventually i am able to conjure a trickle from the shower head. i decide i cannot wait any longer, so i kneel down beside the shower, hold my head upside down and let the light stream of water begin to wash the purple color from my hair. so let's recap the situation in a little more detail. i live in a three bathroom house. i need to rinse out my hair dye. and in my moment of doubt, i decide the best solution will be to just deal with it, in my own practically nonexistent shower. it probably wasn't until thirty seconds into the rinsing, that i realized this was the wrong choice. in this case the path not taken (going upstairs to a fully functioning bathroom) would have been the correct answer.
i can feel the purple water running down my face, getting into my eyes, dripping off my lips. i'm having difficulties keeping myself in this kneeling, head over the bathtub position, and not the mention the lack of all water pressure is making this process a lot longer than necessary. then i realize, hey, i can use the bathtub faucet, the water comes out a lot stronger from there. oh yeah Lauren, genius idea! to make a longer story short, i end up crouching in the bathtub in two inches of purple water (because of course my old old shower cannot drain faster than i can get water in it) trying desperately to rinse as much dye out of my hair as possible. and since a full shower was not available, it seems i am going to have to parade around tomorrow with possibly more hair dye on my body, than in my hair. but the signature "this would only happen to you moment" comes with the black stains on my face, that are from the dyed water dripping from my forehead to my chin. it appears as if i mascara'd my hair, and then it hysterically cried, causing black tear marks down my entire face.
thank you life. at least i can get a kick out of you every once and a while.
i open the box, mix the two bottles together and spread it all over my hair, in what i like to think is a well thought out process. it's not though. it never works out. i always end up with hair dye EVERYWHERE. and this time it's bad. i mean my arms are turning black, my neck is developing cheetah spots, and it seems i thought my hairline was about two inches lower than it really is. but i keep powering through. no time to stop now, i'll deal with the splotch removal when i'm in the shower. i scoop all my freshly dye covered hair together and put it in a bun on the top of my head, and sit to patiently wait my twenty five minutes.
a couple minutes before i'm due for a rinse, i head into my bathroom to check out my shower head, because the pressure has been pretty lame the past few days. i assume there is some cloggage so i unscrew the contraption, shake it all out, and put it back together. then i turn the water on, and all the sudden nothing is coming out of the shower head now. which goes to show, i am not always such a "Fiona fix-it," because no water is definitely considerably worse than low pressure water. i can feel the panic rise in my stomach, what do i do, i don't have time for this problem, i need to get the dye out.
i futz around for a few more minutes, screwing, unscrewing, and not the good kind. eventually i am able to conjure a trickle from the shower head. i decide i cannot wait any longer, so i kneel down beside the shower, hold my head upside down and let the light stream of water begin to wash the purple color from my hair. so let's recap the situation in a little more detail. i live in a three bathroom house. i need to rinse out my hair dye. and in my moment of doubt, i decide the best solution will be to just deal with it, in my own practically nonexistent shower. it probably wasn't until thirty seconds into the rinsing, that i realized this was the wrong choice. in this case the path not taken (going upstairs to a fully functioning bathroom) would have been the correct answer.
i can feel the purple water running down my face, getting into my eyes, dripping off my lips. i'm having difficulties keeping myself in this kneeling, head over the bathtub position, and not the mention the lack of all water pressure is making this process a lot longer than necessary. then i realize, hey, i can use the bathtub faucet, the water comes out a lot stronger from there. oh yeah Lauren, genius idea! to make a longer story short, i end up crouching in the bathtub in two inches of purple water (because of course my old old shower cannot drain faster than i can get water in it) trying desperately to rinse as much dye out of my hair as possible. and since a full shower was not available, it seems i am going to have to parade around tomorrow with possibly more hair dye on my body, than in my hair. but the signature "this would only happen to you moment" comes with the black stains on my face, that are from the dyed water dripping from my forehead to my chin. it appears as if i mascara'd my hair, and then it hysterically cried, causing black tear marks down my entire face.
thank you life. at least i can get a kick out of you every once and a while.
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