Brushing Up On My Social Niceties

Hola Blogstalkers!

So this past weekend was a busy one for me.  I attended BlogHer '13 on Thursday/Friday and then carred (like jetted but in an automobile) off to Detroit for a good friend's wedding on Saturday.  I was so tired when we got home Sunday that I just collapsed on my bed at Six P.M. and slept for seven hours, at which point I (half)woke up starving, crawled up to the kitchen, sliced up a couple of cucumbers and went back to bed, bowl of raw vegetables in hand.

Which explains why I woke up another eight hours later in a bed littered with pieces of squashed squash and a text from Ryan (who had left for work) that said "I know you thought those zucchinis were cucumbers."

But anyway.

I'm not going to do a full rundown of the BlogHer conference here.  Instead I just thought I would give you a couple of the highlights.


** I accidentally dressed up like a pumpkin.

** Because I was so orange and rotund people kept touching my stomach and asking when I was due. The first couple of times I didn't think twice and was all "Oh January 7th".  But after reactions to that varied from "I would have guessed you were much much further along.", to "How many babies are in there!?" to someone literally pretending to play the drums on my belly, I decided to alter my answer just a bit.  So when another stranger would ask I would respond with one of the following:

"This Winter." 


"After the last leaf falls and the coyotes' howls to the Harvest Moon fade in the crisp air."


"You look like a really good guesser, why don't you guess when I am due."  And then when they would say, "Halloween?"  I would say, "Yes....then."

**At one point my eyes alit on The Pillsbury Doughboy and I said to myself, "Self, he is HUGE.  If you were to take a picture with him then you would look less Pumpkin and more Cinderella Carriage I would bet."

But that was not a true story.

Lauren at Four Months Pregnant With Only One Baby.

**When I finally made it home from BlogHer on Thursday night I was exhausted and so I told Ryan I was going to just, "go slither into bed like a tiny Lauren-Snake", to which he was all, "Yeah like a tiny Lauren-Snake that is currently digesting an antelope."


**I woke up early and made it to the breakfast where they were supposed to be giving us tips on how to network efficiently at BlogHer but instead showed us slides that literally said things like "Smile When You Meet New People" and "Look At The New Person and Offer Your Hand In Welcome."

**At this point everyone was looking around, catching each other's eye rolls and snorting indignantly like, "We know we are socially awkward internet people but REALLY.  What is the next slide going to say? No Hitting?"

**I was still giggling furiously at the end of the presentation when my friend Katie from Words For Worms politely let me know I had a bit of spinach stuck in my teeth.  At which point I so hurriedly got up to rush to the bathroom to correct the wrong that I stuck part of my hand in my bowl of yogurt.

**On the way to the washroom someone stopped me to introduce me to another blogger.  I was unable to smile at them because of the spinach and I was unable to shake their hand because of the yogurt so I did a quick grimace and salute instead.  So...Touché Blogher slides.  Touché.

**The rest of the day passed pretty quickly and soon it was time for the Voices Of The Year banquet thing at which I was being honored in Humor for This Post.  Queen Latifah was hosting and I had made it my evening's goal to meet her.

**After she had completed her hosting duties all of the honorees were invited on stage to take a picture with the Queen.  I was sort of close to her but not nearly close enough to shake her hand or politely tap her on the arm and ask her to OMG please take a Selfie with me.  So getting desperate I found myself doing the only thing I could think of to get her to look my way.  I slid off one of my shoes and started stretching out my untoned leg in the direction of her magnificent legs.  I'm not sure why I thought grazing her calf with my toes and then smiling gently at her when she whipped around all affronted would be appropriate but I very nearly did just that.  Fortunately she was rushed off stage and then I came to my senses.  Then I sent an email to the people that had run the breakfast asking for a copy of their presentation.

**At the very end of the night I made to the room where all of the honoree's posts had been blown up on foam board and scattered around the room.  I quickly took my picture with my board and then said goodbye to BlogHer and headed home to try to get some sleep before my early Saturday morning wake up call.

** Later that night my darling husband ventured back to the BlogHer hotel and convinced the people in charge to give him my sign.  Then he somehow, by utilizing a number of bungee cords and our incredibly large sunroof, loaded it into our car and brought it home and up three flights of stairs for me. He's pretty great sometimes, that husband of mine.

So that's about it.  I must go now.  Ryan and I have an ongoing argument in which he insists that he does not need to wear a helmet while riding his bike to work and I insist OH YES HE DOES.  And then he says, "It's only four blocks away and there are no other cars or people around that early in the morning!" and I say "But that's not all helmets protect against! Remember when someone threw an empty milk carton off their balcony and it smacked me right in the top of the head!" and he says "I remember you shouting THE SKY IS FALLING! and that you weren't even on a bike at the time." and I say "But do you promise me that if something like that happens to you then you will start wearing a helmet?" and he says "Fine Lauren, if something falls out of the sky directly onto the top of my head while I am riding my bike to or from work then I will start wearing a helmet."

That argument is about to be settled once and for all today.

It's not like the neighbors could think any more ridiculous things of me than they do already anyway.

We Came Here To Shop And We Came Here To Flirt. Let's Go To The Mall, Today.

Good Afternoon Blogstalkers.

As you all probably know by now, I have a difficult time going places and then not humiliating myself once I get there.  I've booty danced with a stranger at the grocery store, bared my bare rear end in a doctor's office and even embarrassed myself in a fancy department store by shouting inappropriate things about undergarments.

Looking back, I realize that all of those stories involved my derriere in one way or another.  This one does not.  But seriously you guys, it was a near miss and that is almost as bad.  I was so close to another  keister disaster yesterday that I had this conversation with my dad (who works in insurance) on arriving home from the store.

Dad: This is Ed.

Me: Yes hello Ed I'm calling to get a quote on insurance for my..uhh...*whispers* tush.

Dad: Oh hello Oldest Daughter.  Hold a moment and I'll just go ahead and grab a J-Lo insurance form.  *Hangs up*

Dad: This is Ed.

Me: Hi you accidentally hung up on me again.  You are terrible at using the hold button.  And I don't want J-Lo insurance.  I want like...the opposite of that?

Dad: So...she has insurance on her backside in case something destructive were to happen to it... which means you want insurance for an instance in which your butt causes something destructive to happen to someone or something else?

Me: Yes exactly.  Like malpractice insurance but for butts.  Mal-Ass-Tice Insurance.  I just don't want to be help responsible if like... my skirt comes untied on the ferris wheel again.

Dad: I've got to go.  Stop calling me at work.

Me: FINE then you can't use the jingle I wrote you!  *singing* Call us for the Procurence of Posterior Insurance Doo Doo Deedle Doo.  Moneymakers could be a big moneymaker for you DAD.

Dad: Please hold.  *Hangs Up*

So sadly the insurance thing is a no-go.  For now.  But let me get on to the point of this entry.

Ryan and I have a wedding to attend both this weekend and next weekend.  In preparation we recently went out and purchased Ryan a new suit since the one he's been wearing until now is from approximately ten years ago and requires the use of two safety pins to prevent onlookers from seeing an indecent flash of man leg.

So I thought we were all set for the weddings.  Until yesterday when Ryan called me and let me know that he needed a couple of more things to go with his suit, "Not a lot, just boxers, undershirts, a new collared shirt and a tie to match...but that's it.  Oh also socks."

Thus off to Nordstrom I traipsed.  And there found a nice gentleman to help me in the men's department.

He was all, "What can I help you with miss?"  And I was all, "Well basically my husband is a ragamuffin." And then we whiled away a good couple of hours together.

After which I went to eat lunch alone with my book.  Until a nice older lady told me I had a kind face and asked me if she could share my booth.  Her name was Gertrude and she was full of knowledge about how much panty hose used to cost (a handful of nickels!) and whether or not our waitress was a whipper-snapper (she was!)  And then when we were leaving Trudes was all, "You know, my granddaughter is always telling me, Grandma, you don't make friends with salad, but today I think I've proven her wrong."

So the day had turned out delightfully but I'm pregnant and always tired and so I was ready to head home....after I made just the quickest stop in the women's dress department.  Once there an associate named Barrie basically cornered me and made me wait in the fitting rooms while she brought me armloads of dresses to try on.

It was between said armloads, while I was only wearing underwear and a voluminous silky slip thing that went under one of the other garments so that I could open the door with some semblance of propriety when Barrie returned, when I thought I would sit on the little leather bench in my fitting room and close my eyes for JUST A SECOND.

The next thing I knew I was awoken to a frightful knocking sound and being still half asleep I panicked and sort of lurched forward on the tiny bench. At which point my silken garment stuck to the leather seat (but not to my seat) and my arms were thrown up over my head and I rushed headlong down the slippery dress tube that had been covering my parts and landed with a thump on the floor.  My arms and head were still stuck in the spiteful undergown so I could not see what was happening but I was POSITIVE that one of my newly benuded legs was jutting out from underneath the door.

It turns out my misgivings were not misguided and indeed all of the women in the fitting rooms, including Barrie, who of course had been doing the knocking, were looking down at the palest thigh they had even seen in a common area of a well-appointed shop.

"Ahhh Vanessa help!" I shouted because that is one of the things I shout most often in times of lady terror.  But of course my best friend was of no help whatsoever in this instance, being that she was not there and the next thing I knew Barrie had opened the door and was helping me right all of the grievous wrongs that were taking place in that tiny fitting room.

Once I could properly see and had been able to scramble to my feet and smooth the treacherous piece of silk down around my body I said, "I don't think this piece will do at all.  Have you anything less revealing?"


I did end up finding a dress that is made of pink and sparkles and makes me look like a cake though and alls well that ends well right?  Just say yes ok?

ALAS, Babyland.

Happy Stupid Monday Blogstalkers.

I'd love to post for real today but I am exceedingly busy in the kitchen.

Anyone want to guess what I'm baking?

I'll be sure to let you know how it all turns out in about five more months.

Need another hint?  I tried to make one of my dogs sit very quietly next to the elf but instead of doing that she barked at me and then tried to eat the cookie.  And I was like, "Fine DAISY, I'll let you get back to your snoozing in the sun,  it's clear you don't belong in the Everything Nice bowl anyway."

I Have Been A Fool For Lesser Things

How you doin' Blogstalkers?

Me? Oh I'm excellent.  Feeling pretty great today and yesterday and so for some reason I found it necessary to clean, among other things, all of the walls.

And then Ryan came home and was like "Wow nice, it looks great in here, are you teething?"

And I was like, "Teething? I don't think so... but why don't you come over here and stick your hand in my mouth and check?"

I think he meant nesting.

He's been losing his mind a bit lately.  Take exhibit B into consideration for example:

So as he's clearly headed for the nuthouse if things continue in the same vein, I thought I would try to do something (keyword TRY) to ease his troubled mind, namely, write him a song.  Or change the words of an already written song because writing a song from scratch is hard.

I decided on a masterpiece of a song written by Billy Joel.  And thus it began:

The Longest Time
lyrics by Lauren Gallagher and Billy Joel
(names in no particular order probably)

If you said goodbye to me tonight,
there would still be blog posts left to write.
But first I'd catch you
and whisper softly to you,
You're going nowhere for the longest time.

Well that is creepy Lauren. 

Once I was a nerd-girl sad and wan
waiting for my prince while kissing frogs. 
That's where you found me
and somehow didn't see the gawky
frizzy, nervous, unplucked mess I was at times.

Another excellent stanza.  Good job at trying to uplift your husband and instead making him remember how his wife is awkward and terrible at timely depilation.  Not to mention creepy.

Oh, oh, oh
For the longest time
Oh, oh, oh
For the longest time

Wow really just pounding in the creepy nail there.

Now I'm that voice you're hearing in the hall,**
in your dreams and at work when I call,
to say I need you
to pick up cheese and dog food
bleach and staples, matches don't ask why.

It's NOT because I'm in a teensy fight with the dry cleaner and tried to do at home dry cleaning and did something terrible to the shirt you were planning to wear to a wedding next weekend.  And that if the bleach and staples fix I have planned doesn't work I am going to just burn the evidence.

**(good one Billy, I didn't have to change that at ALL)

Some thought this wouldn't last very long
that we'd start to fight
that we'd stop getting along.
But you've only grown in my regard
you laugh when I'm bizarre
And there's more where that came from.

So much more.

Now who knows where this life of ours will lead
but I'll take a guess at just one thing
we'll take our chances
give each other all our dances
and stay together 'til the end of time.

Oh blech.  Yuck.  And what is this wetness on my face?  Pregnancy has broken my brain.  I shall stop there.  Not while I'm ahead mind you.  Just...there.

So yeah.. let's play a game where you all prove you are better song-writers than I am.  How would you redo the first stanza of the song? (Starting with "If You...) You can write it to anyone.  Like..for example...just off the top of my head: Your husband, your best friend, the waitress at the restaurant last night who was either wearing a skort or a skirt that was entirely too short and you couldn't tell which and it was bothering you so you dropped a fork and tried to check with absolutely no luck.  And sort of fell off your chair instead because you are unwieldy and entirely too pregnant for only being 15 weeks pregnant.

OR if you are a fan of Jesse and The Rippers (and who is not) and are excited about them appearing on Jimmy Fallon this Friday.  (SERIOUSLY THIS IS HAPPENING) then feel free instead to rewrite the first part of their know..

If every word I said,
Could make you laugh
I'd talk Forever.

July Bookkeeping

Happy Friday Blogstalkers! (EDIT: Umm oops, it is not Friday.  Dumb Lauren.)

So as you probably know, when it comes to seasons, I much prefer Winter to the sweaty/sticky months of Summer.  My pale skin lends to sun burn/poisoning very well and I'm allergic to all things that sting. Plus, being pregnant this summer means that I am even more sensitive to the sun and that if a wasp decides to make a pin cushion out of me, I'm really supposed to make every attempt not to use my Epipen.  Because it contains hormones or steroids? And then my baby would be born with tiny baby muscles?  Something like that for sure.  My doctor explained it all to Ryan whilst I was coming-to after passing out during a routine blood draw.

And then Ryan got all annoyed with me on the way home in the car when I could not stop giggling at the mental image of me shouting "And the baby wins again!" He was all "For the last time, no I do not think the thought of a baby beating me in a pushup contest is funny."

But that is neither here nor there.  Today I'm starting a new sort-of-series in which I show you all the books I plan to read in the current month and then make pithy and intelligent comments about said books.

Here's where I am for July. (Links to all books on Amazon in caption, these are not affiliate links and I do not make any cash dollars off of them.)

In Order: The Princes of Ireland - Edward Rutherford, Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore - Robin Sloan, Then Came You  - Jennifer Weiner, Whitethorn Woods - Maeve Binchy, The Weird Sisters - Eleanor Brown, Lord of the Flies - William Golding, Cinder - Marissa Meyer, Tell The Wolves I'm Home - Carol Rifka Brunt, Precious - Sapphire, The Post-Birthday World - Lionel Shriver.
As ten books a month is pretty much my average I'm a little bit behind right now because the Rutherford book took me FOR-E-VER.  The novel spanned a period of hundreds of years and thus the characters kept changing and I felt like I had to become reinvested in the book over and over again.  At one point I just threw the book down, covered my face with a pillow and was like "JUST TELL ME WHEN IT'S OVER" to Ryan.

Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore was at first a welcome relief from that drudgery but much like a milkshake, the beginning and the middle were delightful and the ending was a big let down.  It felt like the author got tired of writing and just summarily tied everything up.  So I was a little like, "Ohhh, that's it then? No more?"  Which is exactly how I feel about the ending of milkshakes.

The Jennifer Weiner book I snatched up at Target because it was about pregnancy and surrogacy and I needed a bit of a break after my first two forays.  I read it in a couple of hours and thoroughly enjoyed it.  I'll never read it again and I'll probably not remember the name of the characters in a week but sometimes I think that's the grand thing about commerical fiction.

Thoughts on any of the ten books pictured?

I'm excited to finally read Lord of the Flies for the first time.  And I've not seen the movie based on the Push/Precious book so I have no idea what is in store for me there.  Maeve Binchy (especially Circle of Friends) is one of my guilty pleasure so I can't wait to dive into her book and I saved the Lionel Shriver book for last because I read We Need To Talk About Kevin and that book blew my freaking mind.

I'll probably do this post the 1st, 15th and last day of each month and they'll be filed under "Bookkeeping" in my header.  I'm trying to post a lot more in general so you should look at these as additional posts and not replacements.

Letters To My Husband

Hey Blogstalkers!

The fact that I'm writing today means that I have, once again, navigated through the choppy and treacherous waters that are the Fourth of July.  This marks the 29th time I have successfully done just that and I don't think it's wrong to be more than a little bit proud of myself for this.  29 times to do anything is quite a lot.  Plus it's more times than any of my younger siblings have survived the Fourth.  So I'll just go ahead and add it to the list of things at which I am better than them.

But anyway.  As I mentioned in the last post, I am currently on a form of modified bed rest called "Pelvic Rest" which basically just means I have to sit on the couch a lot.  At first this sounded sort of OK to me.  Unlimited time to read and write and watch movies unhindered by things like doing laundry and polishing the silver.  But it turns out "I'm on pelvic rest" is just another way to say "Moooom I'm booored."

So I started emailing Ryan a lot.

Dear Ryan,

The doorbell just rang so I ventured off the couch to answer it.  It was a strange woman saying she locked her keys in her car asking if she could use our phone.  Because I am smart and know that is how kidney-nappings start, I just directed her to the doorman at the condo building next door.  She pretended to walk that way until she thought I couldn't see her any longer and then changed direction and wandered off down the street.  What do you think this means?  Should I have offered her some pound cake?

Lauren Gallagher

p.s.  I'm not even allowed to take baths right nowice or otherwise.

Dear Ryan,

I just spent thirty minutes trying to think of something new to do today.  Unfortunately my brain is also on pelvic rest so the only thing I could come up with is hula-hooping which I am almost certain I am not allowed to do.  I'll confirm with my doctor but I'd bet Shoop-ba-dooping and loop-de-looping are also out.  Anything that rhymes with 'hooping' really.

I think I'm going mad.

Anyway, Wicked Wicked - Have to Kick It

Lauren 'Oil-n-Vinega' Gallagher

Dear Ryan,

In less than six months this baby will be here and then you will have one and one half Laurens.  How did you ever get so lucky?

Lauren Gallagher

Dear Ryan,

I'm not sure why you were so stompy this morning.  I untied the wagon from the back of your bike before you needed to leave for work.  And honestly yesterday when I firmly secured the two together with a jumprope and a series of complicated knots I just thought that you'd be elated that I solved our transportation dilemma.  Sure I'm not able to walk much lately and yes I continue to be unable to ride my bike very well  but I'm perfectly content to sit in a wagon with the dogs and a cooler full of snacks whilst you pedal to wherever it is you've been jetting off to in the afternoons.  I mean, right before you leave, you're always complaining about how I'm "never not in the house" and about how I'm "always sitting on the couch" looking at you so I thought this would fix all the problems.

Lauren Gallagher

p.s. In an effort to apologize for whatever it is I have done, I shelled all of your pistachios for you today while I sat on the couch.  Please also consider that an apology for eating all of the crunches out of your Raisin Bran Crunch.

Dear Ryan, 

I'm trying to come up with names for my new blog header categories today and I'm going to include all of the 'How Ryan Met Lauren' entries as one of the sections.  Any ideas on a name for that?  Taylor Swift got all up in my head and now the only thing I can think of is "It's a Love Story".

Lauren Gallagher

Dear Ryan,

"This Love Has Taken Its Toll On Me" is both too long and too rude to use as a header.

Lauren Gallagher

p.s I know that I don't need to include the 'Gallagher' at the end of my name and I understand that you're well aware of my full name so help you God.  Gmail just fills it in for me automatically.

Dear Ryan,

I ate a pear today and then had to change my pants and my top.

Lauren Gallagher

Poor Ryan.  Any suggestions on a better blog header name for our fairy-tale-like love story?

Senses and An Alarming Lack Of Sensibility

It's a good day Blogstalkers!

Since I've been updating only sporadically since I got pregnant and then exactly like Duchess Kate got hyperemsis gravidarum I thought I would use today to catch you all up on my life.


Tasting: Twickers.  Which is when you have one half of a Twix and one half of a Snickers left uneaten on the coffee table before you go to bed so you put them together in a tupperware in the freezer and then overnight they freeze together into one candy bar and you are like "Hey! A Twickers!"

Seeing: Harry Potter 8 (I'm going through a bit of a HP re-obsession at the moment if you hadn't noticed.  Part of reason is that I am currently on 'pelvic rest' so I'm required to spend a lot of time on the couch.) 

Smelling: Lamb and Chickpea Chili bubbling away on the stove for dinner.  It's still just in the low 60s here so chili is not ridiculous.  Plus this chili should be eaten year round no matter what the temperature because it is RIDICULOUS.

Touching: Pants and a shirt!  This might not seem like an !exclamation point! sort of statement to you but my morning sickness at its worst was extremely tactile-centered so I could not touch ANYTHING and NOTHING could touch me.  Like seriously nothing.  Toothbrushes, Q-Tips, Showers,  Ryan's breath on the back of my neck at night.  So today is a pretty big improvement over the day my husband made me go to a family BBQ and a relative overheard me whisper "I wish I was naked right now" to Ryan.

Hearing: About five minutes ago - "Down" by Jay Sean which meant that my phone was ringing and it was Ryan (he chose that song for us to walk back down the aisle to at our wedding).  I don't know what he wanted because I got too caught up in the music to answer again.  Also I'm mad at him because this morning I was really tired and forgot what I was doing while I was making myself oatmeal and so I was just standing at the counter staring at the bowl and he was all "Just because your brain waves are of the MICRO variety does not mean that they work to heat up food."

UPDATE: I got a text.  He was calling to see how the chili was doing.  It's doing fine.  I'M FINE TOO THANKS RYAN.  I mean, a bit bossy and needy but that's normal.

Sixth Sense: Nothing YET.  I do have this weird persistent feeling though, almost a presentiment or augury, a premonition if you will, that I will have a sixth sense in the future.

Tell me what you're tasting/seeing/smelling/touching/hearing today?

Also, I posted this yesterday on Facebook but I wanted to mention here as well that I am OVER THE MOON about being chosen as one of Blogher's 25 Voice of the Year Honorees for Humor blogging (out of thousands of submissions!)  The honorees were chosen by a reading committee and not through a voting system so I'm feeling really very proud of this accomplishment.  I never would have gotten here without the unflagging support of all you excellent readers so I want to just say thank you thank you thank you.

Things That Mario Has Taught Me

So as those of you who own a calendar or regularly get out of your house know, today begins July.  If you've been reading this blog for a while then you might know that I find this week to be the most hateful week of the entire year.

Sure, independence and doodle dandies and let freedom ring and all of that, but also, goddamn fireworks.

I've said it before and I'll say it again because it can not be said enough times but I HATE LOATHE ABHOR DETEST fireworks.  They make my eyes water and my nose run and my mouth hiccup and my husband say "For the last time crybaby, the firework did NOT touch you."

And OK yeah, fireworks are probably a ridiculous thing to be frightened of but it could be worse, I mean, I know someone that is afraid of balloons.  And sure that person is also me but I think I have made my point.  I just don't like things that explode.  I don't even like Chocolate Lava Cakes.*  That is how hardcore I am about not liking things that go pop.

*I LOVE them.

So all of that is just to say that this week makes me extremely skittish and overwrought.  I almost feel like I am under danger of being attacked at any moment by heat seeking missiles or children with those horrid little snappy poppy things of which they are so fond.

Seriously yesterday one of these TOUCHED me.

And all of that is just to say that last week, when I started to feel apprehensive about Roman Candles and Unsympathetic Jewish Husbands I got to thinking about what I could successfully employ as a defense mechanism in times of danger in general.  Because let's face it, this world is a dangerous place, just full of ceiling fans and legos and other scary things.

First I considered a sword, which seemed too heavy and all too often stuck inside of a stone only to be released to the true and proper king. 

Next to cross my mind was a shrink ray but then I remembered how I learned from all the Honey! I Shrunk The Kids! movies how easy it is to make a serious blunder with a shrink ray.  And though since seeing that first movie I have always wanted to experience the wonder that would be a giant Oatmeal Cream Pie, I decided to cut my losses.

A magic wand seemed perfect but I can not even tell you how many suspicious looking sticks I have picked up on walks with the dogs that have not done ANY MAGIC AT ALL.  I'm all "Avis Oppugno!" and "Incarcerous!" and Ryan is all "Stop trying to tie me up and attack me with birds using that stick," and "People are staring at you."

Obviously I was having trouble solving this dilemma.  So I decided to go to Ryan for inspiration.  He was upstairs playing a rousing game of Halo which was just perfect for my current conflict so I grabbed a notebook and pen so I could take notes on how to protect myself from danger and settled in on the couch next to him. 

But all he was doing was like - throw grenade, throw grenade, throw grenade.  And then this giant fireball came swooping in right at him so he threw a grenade at it which didn't work and so said fireball  hit him smack in the face and he died.  And he was all "Woopsies! Gosh Darn game!"

Lauren: No need to turn to the devil's words RYAN.  From what I could tell that was entirely your own fault.  

Ryan: What are you talking about?  You have no idea how to even play this game.

Lauren: I certainly would not have gotten fancy and thrown a grenade at a fireball thinking they would like...cancel each other out or something.  I shimmied where a shake would have done.

Ryan: ::sigh::What would you have done then?

Lauren:  Well because I am intrinsically a nonviolent person, as you know, I would have done what Mario does when fireballs come at his face and ducked.

And then Ryan said something else rude just before a pillow hit him smack in the face (he should have ducked) but that is not important because at that moment something clicked.

How could I have not turned to Mario for advice before?  He's taught me so many life lessons.

Like, everything is more fun with a costume:

And how proper princesses always have more than one castle:

And of course:

So today I am practicing my ducking in preparation for the fourth of July and all future dangers, be they apocalyptic or spider-based.  (I've even thrown in a little something I call a "Duck Duck Goose" for melee attacks, whatever those are.)  And absolutely nothing can sidetrack me.  Unless of course today is the day I find a magic wand.  Then of course I will need to find an Oatmeal Cream Pie and be all "Engorgio!"

But I think that goes without saying.

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