Thanks, Paul Porter

[Hey y'all! We're back! More on that later. For now, the newest post by yours truly...]

When I was in college, I was a peer health educator. What does a peer health educator do, you ask? I could give you the PC answer that we were required to provide when asked, or I could give you the real scoop: I put condoms on dildos in front of large groups of college students for money. The program itself began when I was a junior, and I was an inaugural member (or OG, if you will). This job was amazing for so many reasons, not the least of which was the fact that I was paid to give presentations that included the phrase “Over-the-Pants Hand Job.” The best, by far, was the one I did for the basketball team. We went to the Elite Eight that year for the first time since 1974. Not to imply that correlation equals causation or anything, but I’d say knowledge of proper dental dam usage couldn’t have HURT their basketball skills.

Anyway, when November rolled around, some of us had the opportunity to attend a conference in Atlanta. I’m not sure what I expected, but the following events didn’t even register on my radar as POSSIBLE, let alone likely.

A few things about this conference before I begin the real story:

1) Most Peer Health Educators Are Pod People

Have you ever been in a room full of RAs? You know how they are weirdly close and get excited about the stupidest stuff? Or they talk about inside jokes that you don’t get/probably wouldn’t think were funny even if you had been there? And the most disconcerting thing is that a fair amount of them are actually fucking each other? And then you think how maybe if you just joined their club, you’d let the group-think mentality (or, more likely, the worms that live in their brains like in Animorphs) over take you and you’d actually be getting laid? Then you kind of want to kill yourself? Ok that was a little irrelevant (and also completely hypothetical). The point is, if you sat around with the people at this conference for more than 5 minutes, you’d automatically feel like the coolest person in the room while being simultaneously isolated by said coolness. Like, really, what the hell are you so excited about?

2) Peer Health Educators LOVE Icebreakers

And hugging strangers. Oh god, the hugging. I’ll never feel clean again.

3) You Will Learn Things About People You Never Wanted to Know. Ever.

“Hi, nice to meet you. Yeah, I’m a Psych major. Oh, you got gonorrhea once? IN YOUR THROAT?! Wow…um…way to bounce back IG2GTTYLKTHNXBYE!!!!!”

0 to awkward in less than two sentences.

I learned all of these things over the course of my weekend, but the real story begins at the opening ceremony.

The keynote speaker was the guy who created the “Evolution of Dance” video on YouTube, Judson Laipply, who happens to be a former peer health educator. He touts himself as a “Stand-Up Comedian/ Motivational Speaker.” This combination is as stupid as it sounds. Well, maybe I’m being unfair. I checked out pretty early and spent the majority of his routine thinking about candy, so he may have said something funny during that time. At the end of his speech, he announced there would be an interest meeting for the Student Advisory Committee, a group of student representatives elected from each of 12 areas of the country. I thought it’d be cool to get a free trip to Denver, so I went to this meeting. The current SAC stood in front and introduced themselves (“Hi, I’m Kelly! I’m from Area 2! WHO HERE IS FROM AREA 2? WOOOOOOO”). People raised their hands as their area was called and also cheered because they are freaks. When we got to Area 11, I was the only one who raised my hand. I started to get really excited. I had this election in the bag! I was running unopposed and all I had to do was make a 2-minute speech and answer a couple of questions? Why don’t you just ask me the BREATHE?!

At the end of the meeting, we broke off with our area representative to talk a little more about the position. As Brandon and I discussed this unnecessary process I was going to go through the next day, I heard a voice from behind me that I will never forget. It will stay with me until the day I die. It said: “Area 11?” I couldn’t hide my annoyance as it spoke; having thought that I would have no competition and now my free trip to Denver might be ruined. I slowly turned to see the owner of the voice (/my only opponent) and had to suppress an audible gasp…

HE WAS IN A WHEELCHAIR.

I hope Paul enjoyed his free trip to Denver.

-Lady of Leisure

P.S. We weren’t allowed to watch each others’ speeches, so we had to stand in the hallway. With his adviser. Who was blind. And had a seeing-eye dog.

Hit Me Up On My Cellie! ~ <3 ~

I probably shouldn't be allowed to have a phone. Well, not one with text messaging. I just went through the text messages I have sent recently. Here are some highlights:

-If you could give any of the Jersey Shore guys a blumpkin, who would you choose?

-1) Is your sister a girl scout? 2) is she selling girl scout cookies? (Editor's note: F-A-T)

-You look like Predator's baby

-Wendy's makes spicy chicken nuggets now. Do you think they are like mini spicy chicken sandwiches? (Editor's note: F-A-T-T-E-R)


One can only conclude that I am lewd, insulting, and hungry.


But seriously, I will probably go to Wendy's this week for the above-stated purpose....

....and dip that shiz in a frosty

A Load of B.S.

So my degree is in Psychology. I realize that may not have been a practical decision on my part, seeing as I don't want to be a psychologist anymore, but it was kind of too late to turn back. It has its perks though. My school only offered it as a Bachelor of Science. So now, my title is now Lady of Leisure, B.S., making it official instead of implied.



Despite my lack of extreme interest in pursuing a career in psychology, I got a job working for a psychological study. As I sit here every day, contributing to SCIENCE!, I often wonder what might be a more enjoyable career in this field. I came up with a few studies I might find myself being very excited to be a part of. This list includes:



-Snug as a Bug in a Rug: Puppy-cuddling techniques and the optimization of healthy sleep patterns.



-The effect of ratio differences on ice cream sandwich-induced happiness



-Let them eat cake: middle layer filling and related rates of satisfaction



-You're my Sex Bomb: Increased neural activity in response to shirtless men with toned

abdominal muscles



-'The O.C.' and the post-adolescent female brain: Effects of wife-beaters and witty banter on the 22-year-old female's perception of the reality of love



I am currently pursuing NIH funding for all of these projects.





-Lady of Leisure



P.S. This is, of course, if my other Life Plan doesn't work out

A Short Statement From the Mayor, Regarding Camp Potomac Shambles

I'd like to take this opportunity to explain my behavior during that fateful week at Camp Potomac Woods. First though, you should know that yesterday's post caused me to pee my own pants with laughter for two reasons. The first is that I was previously unaware that The Lady peed the floor of a makeshift house, and the second is that my recollection of the Camp Potomac Woods experience is SOOO different from the recollection she would expect me to have, given my "this is the best place evvverrrrr!" behavior at the time. We had a conversation about those two things yesterday as soon as the entry was posted, and I think a transcript of that chat will explain it all.

Lady: I put up a new post

Mayor: that shit is funny

i just read it

Lady: yeah that happened

9:15 AM

Mayor: i don't think i knew that you peed the floori do know that horse camp sucked ass though

it was not fun

Lady: oh yeah?! I thought you loved it!

Mayor: i got thrown off and got my hand stepped on

Lady: oh yeah!

Mayor: that fucker broke my finger

Lady: i do remember that

Mayor: and i told them i didn't want to do the jumps anymore

9:16 AM and they told me i had to

so i climbed back on and cried the entire time that it rode around the ring jumping over stuff

pretty sure i did swim camp the year before actually

Lady: ok def didn't know that

9:17 AM so we all had a bad time?

Mayor: hahaha yeah i think so

Lady: we had to wear these swim cpas that smelled like fish, it was gross

Mayor: i mean, i wasn't traumatized or anything...because after we left the horses i got to play and eat lots of mashed potatoes and bug juice (aka kool aid)

yeah the caps were gross...different colors for different levels of ability...all staaaaaanky

Lady: i think I had fun some of the time

9:18 AM yeahhhh

I think I was in an advanced level of ability

having been on swim team
and like, actually good at swimming at that point Mayor: you would've had a red cap then, i believeLady: yeah!

I did have a red cap!

Mayor: hahaha

it's funny how different my experience was though

the year i did swim camp, mom and dad both drove me there and they were acting all weird

9:20 AM and i was pumped about camp...sitting in the middle seat of the van reading the brochure about what promised to be the best week of my life

(which probably took the entire 1.5 hour ride or whatever because i remain, to this day, the slowest em effing reader ever)

anyway there was a piece about "home-missing"

9:21 AM and i asked what that was, because the concept of missing home was apparently something I couldn't grasp

and mom explained that sometimes you miss your bed and your parents and the rest of your family and home-cooked meals (read: hamburger helper), and that that can make a kid sad

and i said, allegedly, "I don't get it. Why would I miss you?"

9:22 AM and i believe mom cried

9:24 AM Lady: hahahahahaha OUCH

9:25 AM It's so funny, they were always sad to see you go places but when it was time for me to go places they had already experienced the leaving-a-child-somewhere-overnight thing so they never acted weird

Mayor: hahaha

yeah b/c [our older brother] never did anything, so i was the test child

Lady: haha true!

Mayor: and they would be like "oh man, this is such a big deal!"

and i'd be like "guys, calm down, i'll see you later"

Lady: yeah I never got that haha
I mean, we were both pretty independent kids though, I wasn't really attached either
Mayor: i think basically after I traumatized them like that, they'd act cool b/c they thought that's what they were supposed to do

b/c the kids make the rules!

9:27 AM Lady: that's how you gotta parent!

like mom said I always ran away from her as soon as I got ot preschool

Mayor: hahahaha

Lady: like the "BYE SEE YOU LATER MOM NO I DON'T WANT A HUG BYE"

Mayor: i'm sure that made her feel rull good

9:28 AM Lady: well, i was 2 or 4 so I don't feel to guilty

3 or 4

Mayor: hahaha

2 or 4 was funnier

Lady: well fuck

9:29 AM

Mayor: i was always like "thank you very much for bringing me here, as i'm not yet old enough to drive. i appreciate that you want to hang out with me, but i'm previously committed to eating paste and building things with blocks, so i'll just catch up with you this afternoon, ok?"
Lady: hahahaha exactly!Mayor: and mom would be like "ok fiiiiiine."

Lady: I mean it's probably hard as a parent when your kid is independent but better for the kid really
Mayor: yeah and ultimately better for you...but probably not the easiest to accept at first Lady: I can't believe you didn't know the pee story
that's a classic moment9:30 AM Mayor: yeah i don't know how i missed that oneLady: you gotta remember the tears though

because that involved you haha

Mayor: haha i do

they pulled me out of some sort of awesome play time

9:31 AM and, as previously stated, i didn't get the home-missing thing

Lady: I'm not sure it was missing home so much as it was having a miserable time and not wanting to be there

Mayor: so i was like "em, get it together, this is awesoooooooooooooome! Mom and dad aren't here!!! Wheeeeeeeeee!"

yeah...i distinctly remember being told that you were homesick and needed family

and i was like...uh...guys...i'm 8

9:32 AM Lady: haha i think I was just like I WANT TO SEE MY SISTER

because everyone in my camp was older than me and they weren't that nice

esp my bunkmates, who were the meanest

9:33 AM I think I made friends with other people

but those bitches

Mayor: yeah that blows...i think i was the youngest too
because it was like you either had to be a certain age or have finished a certain grade

so i went to horse camp with other kids who were like 9, 10, and 11

and i was 8

and tiiiiny

9:34 AM Lady: yeah i think you had to have just finished first grade

Mayor: like we had to help each other up on to the horses and i was totally worthless because everyone had 40 lbs on me

Lady: hahahahaha

you're like " I don't have much to work with here!"

Mayor: yeah i was like...how about i stand here and pet this guy while you go get a stool or soemthing?
Lady: hahahahaha helpful9:35 AM so how do you feel about wTCHING THE STEELERS GAME SUNDSY

sorry caps lock


And then the conversation went in another direction, as you can see. But I swear, I'm not the monster I was made out to be. And really, compared to the behavior of some other mayors, like the Mayor of Detroit, the Mayor of Portland, the Mayor of Los Angeles, and my personal favorite, the Mayor of East Cleveland, I'd say this is small potatoes.

Camp Potomac Woods, We Hold You In Our Hearts

Mayor McShambles and I never went to summer camp for more than a week. I have gone to week-long sleep away camps twice in my life and I think The Mayor tops out around 5 (most of which were sport-related, but I'll leave the decision to discuss her former athletic glory up to her). Sometimes I think it would've been cool if I got to do all the fun things I saw on "Bug Juice" for an entire summer. However, it is probably a good thing we couldn't afford 3 months worth of campfires and bug bites considering what happened the first time they sent me away for only one week. What would have been the summer of 1994, I had my first camp experience: Girl Scout Camp. Now, I was a wee little dibblet, having just finished first grade, and I was very nervous. I was going to have to sleep in a cabin with canvas walls (!), pee in a latrine (!), and be away from my mommy and daddy. I am not sure at what age children are usually sent to this type of setting, but my parents were ones to enjoy a fucking break foster a sense of independence, so I was the youngest kid in my camp. To add insult to injury, they had put me in the swimming camp because the others for kids my age had to do with crafts and shit (Yeah, right! I was a tomboy! I had a bowlcut until 1999, motherfucker.). I liked swimming and all, but I was in camp with a bunch of 8-year-olds who couldn't swim, so that was awkward. Not to mention my two of my three bunkmates were these bitchy little 2nd graders who made fun of me for being younger than them and my wit was not up to par back then. Throw a couple two, three wolf spiders into the mix and you've got my week at Camp Potomac Woods. I would love to say that I was a total trooper through this experience, but that is pretty far from the truth. I remember 4 separate incidents occurring that were particularly traumatic. They are as follows, in order from "not so bad" to "you are a heinous human":

1) The Gnat.
So I'm just a 7-year-old trying to learn how to juggle on circus day. I'm not having a lot of success, but I AM having a wonderful time. Next thing I know I've got a god damn gnat in my ear. In my ear, buzzing around against my ear drum, making me cry. They had to take me to the nurse on a golf cart and it was a big to-do. Embarrassing, yet horrifying. I hate bugs, especially when LODGED in any part of my body.

2) The Unidentified Mammal in the Rafters.
This was probably the second night of camp. As I mentioned before, our cabins had canvas walls. They were basically raised platforms with a roof and support beams. Anyway, I was lying there in my sleeping bag on a plank of wood, trying to not be homesick for the sweet daybed trundle that me and The Mayor shared (yeah, we shared a room AND a trundle bed...awkward). Just as I am about to drift off to dreamland, I see something moving on the rafters above me. Directly above my bed was a support beam for the roof and SOMETHING with FUR and A TAIL was HANGING THE FUCK OUT up there. I was terrified. Like shit-the-bed, shaking with fear. After I stared at this fur ball for about half an hour while it shifted positions, I got my flashlight out and tried to see what it was. Alas, the angle was bad and I was too afraid to actually get out of my bed. I lay there for 4 hours, frozen, watching this animal have its nuh-night time 10 feet above my face. This incident would inevitably lead to the worst camp moment on this list.

3) Tears.
By the third day, I was Sally SadPants. My bunkmates kept making fun of me, I was in swimming camp, There was an animal in my bunk last night, wolf spiders are EVERYWHERE...it was bad. Luckily for me, Mayor McShambles was at camp too! She was in the horseback-riding camp, which sounded so cool. Unfortunately, since I was a baby, I wasn't allowed to be in horse camp (jelly to this day). The Mayor was loooooooving camp. Who wouldn't? You're 8 and you ride horses all day and you're at CAMP! I was unaware of how awesome her experience was because she had refused to speak to me the entire time (to her credit, we were on opposite sides of the camp and did not really run into each other or have very many opportunities to speak...but when she did see me she wanted no part of my 7-year-old life, which was rude). I finally broke down and cried to my counselors. I asked to see my sister and they had to pull her away from all the FUN she was having riding horses to deal with my trifling ass. Needless to say, she was less than comforting. Embarrassing. The only thing that came from this was everyone in my camp seeing me cry and my sister being pissed about missing her super sweet horse-related shit. *sigh*

4) The Puddle.
I think about this incident often. I have waves of guilt about it. It's not my finest moment. I am especially ashamed at the deception I was capable of as a 7year-old. Nevertheless, it happened.

So about the fourth night, I woke up really having to go to the bathroom. The aforementioned latrines (!) were a little away from our campsite, so protocol was to wake a bunkmate and walk there together. My third bunkmate, Kelly, was a perfectly nice girl especially compared to the other two. She was my sister's age though, so it was weird that she was in swimming camp with the younger kids. We were the oldest and youngest, respectively, similarly outcast. After lying in my bed, hoping this feeling would just go away, I realized that was going to be impossible. I was very afraid of the dark forest around us...but apparently also very afraid of waking a sleeping bunkmate. I got out of my bed and gently tried to wake Kelly up. Barely touching her shoulder as I only mildly audibly mouthed "Kellllllllyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy." My pathetic attempt at rousing her was unsuccessful. This is when I panicked. What could I do?! I was still scared of everything about my bunk due to Incident #2! I can't wake up Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Bitch on the other side of the bunk. Should I go the the counselor cabin? That would involve going outside alone.....

At this point, I did the only thing I could think of in the middle of the tornado of anxiety I had created...and pissed where I stood. I stood next to Kelly's bed and PEED ON THE FLOOR. It happened almost involuntarily at first, but I kind of had to run with it. The damage being done, I changed my underwear and went back to sleep. I woke the next morning to my other bunkmates whispering "Oh my god, did Kelly pee on the floor?" "Why would she do that?! That's so gross!" "Why didn't she wake anyone up?!"

Without missing a beat I whispered "Oh she did?!?!?! that's so gross!!!"

Kelly awoke to awkward accusations of having pissed on the floor during the night, something she couldn't recall. Someone had to get the counselors to clean it up, all of whom were understandably confused at the thought of a 9-year-old peeing on the floor. And there was Kelly, looking embarrassed and confused as to how she sleep-peed next to her bed, totally believing she was the cause of this.

I let her take the blame. How could I admit that I had, not only, pissed myself, but did it next to someone else's bed?!

She became the 9-year-old who peed on the floor at camp.

All I can say is, I'm sorry Kelly. I'm sorry I let you become That Girl. I hope you can understand, now that you're an adult, that this was an act of self-preservation. I was 7. Please forgive me.

That being said, I can't take it back sooooooooooooooo, thanks for the funny story Kells Bells!



-Lady of Leisure

PS I have since gained control of my bladder during the night.

If I Were a Rich Girl (na na na na na na..you get it)

I have not yet decided what I want to be when I grow up. I figure that I am 1) only 22 and 2) that I shouldn't have to decide yet. My oats are not only the tamest oats around, they have yet to be sown! I have a general idea, however, that my life path will not involve me having a Scrooge McDuck-style money room where I can go for a swim in all my gold coins. Because I would like to think of myself as a democrat, I have made peace with the fact that I do not need to be super rich and can live a relatively simple life and pay my taxes for the good of the people. On the other hand, I am a 22-year-old girl who still swoons over pictures of male celebrities without their shirts on. I'm not above paying 10 bucks to see a movie for this reason (I am about to buy G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra on DVD). Sometimes, I'm just to fancy to think about having to grocery shop and save money and not buy things I don't need (I stand by the tap shoe purchase though. TRIPLE TIME STEP 5-6-7-8!!!) This trait means that I often fantasize about what I would do if I were to, say, marry a celebrity and go from Little Orphan (drunk) Annie to Richie Rich. I tried to compile a list of things I would like if I were rich dot com. Only, this list turned out to mirror the plot of Blank Check (a slide from the 2nd floor of the mansion into the pool, go-kart track and so on and so forth). I do wonder what it would be like to date a celebrity though. After much deliberation, I narrowed it down to 2 things that I really fantasize about doing with an impossibly wealthy boyfriend.

1) I would like this to happen:

2) I want us to do things like this:

I am, after all, low maintenance

A Dream is a Wish Your Uterus Makes

This past Sunday, the Lord's Day if you will, I had the most horrific dreams about my sins. I'm talking absolutely horrifying...worse than zombies (yuck) and hippos (the deadliest animal in the jungle) chasing me...way worse...and way more real...and they kept me from sleeping soundly, which I would say is generally my greatest talent.

The worst of these dreams was as follows, and it took place continually between the hours of 3 and 6 am.

***

I wake up, it's Monday morning, and I'm feeling particularly fat. My boobs look bigger, and when you're talking training bra scale, these things are NOTICEABLE! Also, I have a gnarly stomach ache. It occurs to me almost immediately that these changes are likely the result of my being pregnant. That thought causes me to vomit...or maybe it's not the thought of being pregnant....maybe it's the morning sickness caused by my REAL LIFE PREGNANCY! This obviously correct realization throws me into a panic.

[Zach Morris Time Out for a moment please...As mentioned by my all-too-kind sister yesterday, when something makes me uncomfortable, grossed out, or terrified, I do absolutely nothing about it. If I find a dead mouse in the laundry room, I don't throw it away or bury it in the back yard, I don't call my dad and tell him to do something with it, I don't suggest that our house might need an exterminator. Instead, I leave it where it is and decide that I will do my laundry later, after someone else has found and disposed of said mouse. There is no good reason for this behavior, but it is my reality. Ok, Time In]

Now, being a virgin, I should not worry about these things. And since Perfect Love Interest and I go on dates but do not actually touch one another apart from hand-holding, I cannot possibly be pregnant. But, since pregnancy scares me, and since they only cost $5/month, I take Anti-Babies (similar to anti-depressants but more effective, I'm told). These things make your body work like clockwork, so I should know for certain by Monday night that I am not, in fact, with child.

[Zach Morris Time Out...Don't be confused, I love kids. I absolutely adore them, I make friends with them in grocery stores and at restaurants with booths, and I think they're great. It's not the product of a pregnancy that freaks me out...it's the pregnancy itself. You know when you cut open a bell pepper and it has another little tiny bell pepper growing inside of it? That's cool. Crack open a human being and find a tiny little human being in there though? Not so much. I'm told that my feelings on the subject will change one day...so I'll let you know. Ok, Time In.]

So all day Monday, I freak out but expect that I'll be made to realize I was being crazy any moment. I go to bed Monday night thinking it'll be fine when I wake up. All day Tuesday, terror. I just don't know what to do. Then Perfect Love Interest comes home because it's Thanksgiving...and he wants to know what's wrong with me...and he tells me my boobs look big...which makes it even worse!! That really throws me over the edge, and I confess to him that I'm relatively sure I'm carrying his (slash God's) child. He is less of a hermit crab than I am, so he suggests we find out for sure. Does he drive me to the store to by an EPT? Yup. Does he go inside with me? Uh huh. Does he have a conversation with the nice 80 year-old white woman with a bonnet behind the counter about how we're just so excited that we're going to be a mommy and daddy? You betcha.

We go back to my house, I take this test, and I'm officially Prego. Awesome. I am horrified.

Now is when the dream starts to get weird. (Dun Dun Dun).

Perfect Love Interest is not horrified at all. He's PUMPED! So are my roommates. They say that our lease allows for children...YAY! They say that they're sure that I'll be able to find a way to support this child, and Perfect Love Interest says that we'll all be just fine...all five of us, me, him, our baby, and my two roommates...just one big, happy family. Everyone also tells me that they're sure I'll be able to get my abs back after a baby punches them from the inside for months and makes me double in size. I do not believe them, but their positivity is em effing unwavering!

[Zach Morris Time Out...This is exactly like when I was in 1st Grade and we had a Career Day at school. It was the kind of Career Day where you dress up as what you want to be when you grow up, not the kind where you go to work with someone. At the time, my sister would have been in preschool and my brother would have been in 3rd grade. We would all have been going to different schools at different times, so I can understand that maybe nobody saw me, but there were 3 grown-ups living in our house (parents and grandmother) and someone must have fed me Cinnamon Toast Crunch, so I'm doubting that that's how it went down. Regardless, I went to school in my bathing suit, claiming that when I grew up, I wanted to be a professional diver. This story is horrifying first because nobody said "way to shoot for the stars, retard, that doesn't exist...why aren't you dressed as a Marine Biologist like all the other girls here (thanks Free Willy)?" It's more horrifying though, because nobody objected to the fact that I had left the house IN A BATHING SUIT to go to school!!!! I knew it was a bad idea, and I thought that people would laugh and then I'd put on my coat for the rest of the day or something, but not a single soul objected. Nobody at home said "Don't wear that," none of my friends in their Sunday suits said anything during the walk to school, my teacher didn't even ask what the hell I was doing! But of course I didn't make it through the day...the Principal came around to our classroom to see what everyone was dressed as, discovered me, called me out in front of everyone, and made me walk home, change and come back. Ok Time in]

That experience was exactly like my pregnancy dream! Nobody thought it was a bad idea but me. Everyone said "awesome" and "cool" and "wow," and nobody said "Oh Sweet Jesus, would you like me to throw you down that there flight of stairs?" I was the ONLY one who knew to be terrified. And there was no way to get out of it because there's no Principal to send you home from Parenthood.

THE END

-Mayor McShambles