Back and Better Than Ever

Ok so it's been a while.

As I said in the last post I needed to take some time because I was working on a pretty big project. I opened a store. I can't go into much detail on here because I'm fairly certain that some of my customers wouldn't appreciate reading about me getting banged in the back seat of a car or all the times I made fun of retarded kids.

But it's a store. And it's mine. And I've never been happier in my life. It all happened so fast I feel like I blinked my eyes and here I was. When the idea came about I was wishing I was back in Denver with all my friends because I knew they would have busted ass to help me get this done. What I didn't realize was how many good friends I had made here. There are a few of them that probably put in over 60 hours each to get this place up and running. They packed my apartment,( because I moved above the store) moved my stuff, unpacked my stuff, (ok well some of it) most of it is still in boxes. They painted, and sawed shit, and priced shit, and cleaned shit, and re-cleaned shit when I messed up the things they cleaned. All for the reasonable hourly wage of $0.00 dollars! They did everything and there is no way I would be here without them. I guess there was a reason I stayed in this silly city after all.

I am excited because in a few weeks when things calm down I can go back to concentrating on my writing. I wrote a few posts back about a book I had started with a friend years ago that we recently picked back up. Well things are rolling right along (because she is amazing and doing all the work right now so I can play store) The photo shoots are done and they look amazing, and the layouts are in progress and in a matter of weeks we will be shopping for agents to pick us up.



After I took a "break" from teaching I was really lost as what to do with my life. I knew I couldn't be a waitress forever but I just could never figure out where I wanted to go. This was the answer, and owning a store might not be what I do for the rest of my life but for now it's a perfect fit!

I am excited, life is really, really good!

And Where have You Been Young Lady?

So I've been gone. Gone from here at least, and as it's looking I'm going to be gone a lot more. I can't say for sure that I wont update at all but I can say for sure that my life has changed drastically over the past few weeks and my spare writing time is something I am going to need to give up along with a serious facebook addiction.

No, I am not getting married and to the best of my knowledge I am not knocked up either. I have been working on a secret project for some time and have just gotten funded to go ahead with it. in other words, in a few months I will no longer be a waitress. DID YOU HEAR ME? I SAID I WILL NOT LONGER BE A FUCKING WAITRESS. So as you can tell I am excited beyond measure and at the same time scared beyond belief. As time comes closer I can give more details but I hate to jinx something that isn't 100% final. But for the mean time, I am busy, the kind of busy that makes you want to rip out your own hair but makes you feel so alive at the same time. It is beautiful.

Katie Lauren

It's At Times Like This I Couldn't Be More Proud

Once again today I glanced at my site tracker. The one that makes me feel like people are reading this even if most of you don't comment. The one that lets me see what people are typing into search engines to get to my site. Tonight I couldn't have laughed harder if I wanted to, because tonight I saw a statistic, a number, a person who typed a few words into Google that lead them to my site. My site was located sixth on the list on Google if you searched these words...

"wives who fart and shit if front of their husbands"

I am sure at this moment in time I couldn't feel more proud if I had won an Oscar

I Would Have Preferred A Case Of The Crabs... In you Know Where...

I just found out I spent over six years of my life pining for a guy who opened a mall kiosk selling Hermit crabs. Did you HEAR me, HERMIT CRABS!

Long time me no write shit you read

It's been a while. Or a while longer than I usually go without writing. Unless you count those seven or more months in which I was internet dead. Or dead to the Internet.

Why I haven't been here:

1. Great friend coming in town to finish up a book we started forever ago. Trying to find a little log cabin to lock ourselves into. Finding log cabin with internet in Missouri proving to be hard work.
2. Taught my dogs how to swim. Had to use force...Kind of like a parent giving a child that little last push once they took off the training wheels; only this is more taking them to the middle of the lake pushing them over board and crossing fingers that either they pop back up or I die from laughing before I notice they don't surface.
3. Working, really, really hard because shit if I don't win "waitress of the universe" this year, or at least "waitress of the world" I swear I will find another career path, like perhaps trying my hand at "folder of the tee-shirts at the Gap." Mostly because I like jobs that challenge my brain.
4. Working on doing that other job I have that isn't as entertaining to make fun of as waiting tables.
5. Banging the Bitches and Slapping the ho's. (because if i don't mention that at least every third or fourth post I feel a little lost)
6. Reading things I wrote out loud at places where people generally laugh at me and seldom throw things.
7. Worrying about offending people/checking to see if I will offend people/worrying that I offended the people I was checking with to see if I offended other people.

In regard to #7. Tonight I was at Board Game Night with my favorite gays. And I have to mention favorite gays because they are my favorites to play games with because they totally get it when I get out of control and yell/pout/scream and threaten Tom with sleeping on the couch if we lose because they do the same thing. And there were other friends there, and other friends girlfriend who I don't really know. So I asked Other Friend" about an upcoming reading I had to do. It's a fundraiser for some sort of medical condition which I cannot recall or spell but will figure out before I go. And at said place the audience is rumored to be mostly "older Jewish" folks. So I asked other friend what he felt about me reading my Jewish stories from my book. I went on to explain to those there who haven't read it that the stories aren't necessarily making fun of those who are Jewish but more making fun of myself for finding out I was a bit Jewish. I explained there were only a few coupon and big nose jokes. In all honesty I was seriously contemplating if these stories would be a huge hit, or a slap in the face, where I should in fact just throw away my coupons and hang myself. Then I remembered "Other Friends" girlfriend was in fact Jewish. Like a real Jewish person, not me who tried really hard to remember when passover was so I could ditch class in college and claim I had an excuse. So as it turns out, I offended the people who I was hoping would tell me if I would offend the others at the reading.

Meaning I am a jerk, and will skip the Jewish stories at the fundraiser and pray that these old Jewish folks find humor in me faking knocked up when I had been drinking all night, as opposed to admitting at a high school reunion of sorts that I just simply got fat. Unless of course you all vote for me to tell them about the time I found out my dad didn't have cancer and accused him of being gay in the same conversation. Hey! It was a mix up over some "plum flavored" wine.

The week that never stopped giving

For starters, my boobs are growing at an alarming pace. I realize that sounds much like a line from your favorite local mommy blogger, but the fact is I am not a mommy, nor an expectant mommy and not even sure if I qualify as a blogger. Nonetheless my boobies/bags/knockers are getting out of control over here. I don't get it. I personally, am losing weight as a whole. But the bags seem to be their own entity. Perhaps I shall consider myself the latest of the late bloomers. I can't just say "late" because really getting an average size of bags by age 18 is impressive but weeks away from 29?
My mother always said she never got hers until college. So, sure as shit after my first day enrolled in college I raced home to find that my barely "A" chest was still a barely "A" chest. So I waited years and years until I gave up waiting and decided to just go ahead and get fat instead. But NOW, NOW losing weight and gaining boobs is just too much. And really lets be honest here (you know since you are reading about me talking about my bags and all) when the big-boobied girls in school complained about hating big boobs, they really weren't just being bitchy after all. In my opinion they sucked... big time. And all this time I kept hating those bitches, putting them in the catagory of girls who call themselves fat in the company of those who are fatter, or those with two legs that challenge one legged persons to a race, or a ski competition, or to see who can tie BOTH shoes faster.

Bottom line big bags suck! Or at least to me they do. Tom swears our difference of opinion on this subject will be the demise of our relationship.

So other than bigger bags... what's new in my world you wonder?

Life is life, work is work. I took up bike riding which sucks being a chubby girl and all, but I'm working on it. I ride with people much more in shape than I am (although I must admit I'm doing okay for a pack-a-day smoker who hates to sweat). Other than a small outburst today when riding up a large hill where I shouted and cried at my riding companions, "Someone get a bitch a doughnut!" I think I might just enjoy it a tiny tiny bit.

I've started to really love my life and the diversity in it. Two nights ago I went to a poetry reading. (Okay, I know, SUCK big time) It was at an AWESOME local new book store in my town. Which is amazing that someone had the balls and faith to open a local book store in this day and age where we are outsourcing everything from tech support to blow jobs. The best part is she has some damn good taste in books. I think I girl crushed on her the second I saw a section titled "Misbehaved." Not Mystery, not History and not Self Help but "Misbehaved," and coincidentally the majority of my favorite books/authors were in it. It's not like your big chain book store which I cannot go in anymore because I am tired of trying to read something that is on a "best sellers list." This woman took one look at ONE book in my hand and had the power to determine everything else I would love. And so far she was dead on! And to think she even convinced me (a tiny bit jew) to purchase over sixty dollars worth of books in what was meant to be "a quick stop!" I kind of want to make out with her, but not like for real make out. More like, "Shit, you like books I like, and know more about books I like than I know about books I like... wanna book make out?" Thats like real making out only no touching or kissing or anything, just some serious book sharing... maybe over vodka...

So, the point, you ask. Diversity in my life.... as of late...


I ride places in this city I didn't know existed. I realize this city is much prettier that I ever knew. And I spend nights at poetry readings in book stores. Talking with artist friends who want to form a commune. One where artists could live together and be appreciated. But, don't get worried it's still me... we are going to name it "The Naked Hot Dog Lady." And we're not so concerned with growing our own shit to sustain us as we are making sure we just laugh a fucking lot!

And the next night was with work friends, at a bar listening to Reggae music and watching hippies (for lack of a better word) dance in light up houla hoops. And thanking god that I not only have a great shower but actually know how to turn it on. Oh and the fact Tom even occasionally lets me use soap.

And then in the same night seeing my old best friend from Colorado (who lives here now) and her teacher friends on Spring break. People living the dream I pretended I wanted to live. And I contemplated how hard they work, and how hard they play. And for a second I wondered what was swimming-swirling-jumping-dancing in their heads, and then I stopped... and thought

and I wondered... what did they feel about THEIR bags today?

Katie Lauren

That One Day That One Dog Ruined My Plans to Get My St. Patrick's Day Drink On

Do to some seriously lack of drinking lately I was super excited to go to my friend Stephanie's house for St. Patrick's day, or Mardi Gras Part two, as Steph made me cook breakfast again claming that if she had to feed everyone they were going to be eating breakfast bars. To say steph isn't a cook is an understatement which I learned when I asked her for garlic salt and she looked at me with such a lost look in her eyes that I thought for a second her brain had completely shut off and she might be gone forever. She did however make her self useful by cutting five laves of french bread for french toast. Cutting them mind you with knives she just opened fresh from the package because apparently this was the first time in seven months of living there she found herself needing to cut anything. Oh and I guess that part about opening her house for us on this scared day was pretty useful as well.
One thing I have learned about St. Louis is that they love their parades, and more so parades that involve large amounts of drinking going on. Stephanie lives in a part of the city named Dogtown and they have the huge St. Patty's celebration. Some people say the town is named dog town because of the Irish settlers who ate dogs. I am certain this is not true and I even looked up the actual reason of the towns name a bit ago but obviously it wasn't as memorable as picturing my ancient irish ancestors in St. Louis eating dogs.
With breakfast cooked and a few mimosas downed I was well on my way to pants pissing passed out drunk when this little guy ran right off the street and into Toms arms.





I know seriously three lost dogs in three weeks. This has to be some kind of joke. So after giving this dog a stern talking to about how she was really putting a damper on my booze fest we picked her up put her in the car and drove to the pound to see if she was chipped. The pound was less than a mile away but between the parade traffic and dodging drunks in the street it took us almost an hour to get there. Don't worry though we passed the time by yelling every dog name at her we could think of to see what kind of response we would get out of her. We settled on Gumby, because Gumby was green and this was St. Patrick's day oh and I was wearing some cheap ass beaded necklace with big plastic Gumby's on it.

Gumby was not chipped, as I would have guess because we couldn't get that lucky twice in a week. The lady at the pound suggested we leave her there and I suggested she was nuts. Mostly because after seven days the dogs become available for adoption or in most cases available for doggy sleepy meds... the kind where the dog doesn't ever wake up. Also it is against the policy to call us if the owner comes to retrieve the dog. Seven days seems like long enough for the owner to find the dog, unless of corse as I explain to counter lady that thing happens that happened the last time I brought them a dog. The dog was put in the system as a girl collie mix. Which was great and all until owner knocked on my door a few days later (tipped off by a neighbor that said I had his dog) and explained that his dog was not in fact a collie, but a husky and was 100% percent not girl. (that means it was a boy for those of you reading that are not good with math) the guy had been calling the pound for days and not surprisingly not getting anywhere. When I explained this to bitchy counter lady she explained it was the owners job to be a little more proactive. Which I agree and all but I was like "well isn't it also your job to look down below and you know...ummm do a weiner check before you just go deciding that it was a girl and all." And she was like "No." So Gumby and Tom and I left.

Stephanie agreed to keep Gumby for an hour so we could go get some food and figure out how the hell we were going to smash Gumby into our one bedroom apartment with our two other dogs. And how we would deal with it when Henry (the dog) decided to sexualy molest her because Henry is a pervert so it would be inevitable.

And then Steph called and let us know Gumby's owner ran into someone who said we had her and came and got her. And another puppy was saved, and another drinking day was lost, which is ok because I am sure it is just a matter of weeks until this town has another parade to celebrate another foreign holiday! And that time I will wear my I Hate Stray Dogs shirt, and hope they all can read and go find someone else to get them safely home!

A Cry For Help Now On Amazon

It's been almost a year since I published my book. So almost a year later I have some news and some thoughts to share on the topic.

First, My Book Loud Mouth is now available on Amazon. When I published it came with distribution plan that came with the mandatory ISBN. This also gives me the ability to get it in local stores. Why a year later? A divorce, new job, new boyfriend, new house, new puppy, and new outlook on life kept me busy enough to procrastinate my end of the deal. So when I realized it had been almost a year and I should get my butt in gear with final edits and the distribution I got to work. And after the folks at Amazon fiddled around with it for a bit taking it out to lunch, and movies in such, getting to know it a bit and make sure there was no child pornography and military secrets inside they approved it and there I was on the big screen. (Like big computer screen, well depending on the size of your monitor.)

Second, I find now that I have mixed feelings about the book. My writing has grown immensely since I published it, and in some ways find reading the old material to be a bit painful or perhaps even a bit if an embarrassing show of my current works worth. I published the book not as a money making venture but as a way to grab everything I had package it up nicely and be able to hold in my had something I accomplished that was mine. Something I finished.

It's funny because often when I am introduced to people by friends or fellow writers they make the comment "Katie "SELF PUBLISHED" A book." I want to finish the conversation explaining that I also, that day, "Self Showered" "Self Wiped" and "Self Fed" because let's face it I'm not helpless. I've never tried to hide the fact that the book was self published, but at some point I find the humor in people feeling the NEED to attach "self published." I had every intent to self publish this book and never even considered going a different route. I am well aware of the fact anyone can self publish a book. You could type the word shit a million time get it all bound up with a nice cover featuring a cover of a stinky dump and call yourself published. A Writer I used to know would say, self publishing isn't for writers it's for entrepreneurs. I disagree I think it all depends on what the writer is looking to get out of the publishing experience.

So in the end I got what I wanted out of it. I got something that was mine, something with my name on it and my voice in it. Something I could hold in my hand. It might be funny to you, or as a few of my family members described it "Katie's cry for help." Either way I laughed when writing it, and people tend to laugh when they read it so mission accomplished even if I did "self publish"



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