Saturday, September 15, 2012

High School Reunions: They Don't Always Suck Ass


     So, it's here...My ten year high school reunion is just around the corner. I know it's been sort of lying in wait, taunting me and resting in the back of my mind, but when I recieved a Facebook notification informing me I'd been invited to join the group "Dickson Class of 2003 Alumni 10 Year Reunion", it was...a big, fucking wake up call.

I've been out of high school for ten years.

I then started to wonder why in the hell people wanted to go back to their high school experience? My high school experience was not so great, AND...I have a news flash for you:

If you are one of those people who enjoyed high school, one of those people who peaked in high school or one of those people that say,"High school, now those were the days." ...
I'm going to clue you in on a little secret:

There are a lot of people who don't like you, think you are bat-shit crazy and laugh when they hear that you've gained weight.  (I speak the truth, people.)

My high school experience started in the year 2000; a time when people wore pleather pants, velveteen choker necklaces and Doc Martin boots with sundresses.
We were quoting "American Pie" movies, and listening to bands like Maroon 5.

(Frankly, I think that's a time all of us want to forget.)
When talks first came up that our ten year reunion was upon us, I was the first to say, "Fuck that. I have kept in touch with the people I want to see, and if I want to know anything about the other people I went to school with, I will creep on their Facebook pages."
However, as per usual, my curiosity took over my good sense, and I agreed to go to the pre-reunion-reunion.

It was dinner, and then a football game.

Easy peasey.
I could do that.

Dinner was really nice. I had sort of been dreading it, actually...but it turned out to be a really small group of people.

It was a social outcast's dream, as far as reunions go.

 All of the people sitting around the table were people that I've kept in close contact with.
We laughed, had a nice dinner and those who had not seen each other in a while, were given a chance to catch up. Then, the football game adventure began:

It was, as several of us mentioned, like walking into the Twilight Zone.

We were sort of back at our high school football field, but we weren't.

The feeling is hard to explain, but anyone who has walked onto their high school campus a decade after being gone, knows exactly what I'm talking about.

Seeing the changes that have taken place, but noticing how so many things have stayed the same.

For instance, my high school has paved all of the parking lots, erected this huge gazebo thingy at the entrance of the football field, but have failed to replace those shitty, shitty bleachers that have been there for longer than I've been alive.

 The cheerleaders still wear too much make-up, the marching band still has the weird kids who walk in an air of their own coolness and there is still that group of teenagers going to football games for the sole purpose of making fun of those who participate in the festivities.

There weren't many of us who attended this pre-reunion-reunion, and personally...I think it's great.

 It's my opinion to always take quality over quantity, and I'm sure there are some people who, (even as adults) will make me want to stab myself in the eyeball with a toothpick upon first, "Long time no see"- greeting.

So, that's that.
We reunioned.
No one got too drunk, there were no fist fights and our team ended up winning the game.

Yay.

(I didn't stay for the end of the game, but they were way ahead when I left so I'm just assuming we won.)


So, now...we wait until June.
I can only imagine that as the day draws near, girls will start fasting in an attempt to lose those few extra pounds that have snuck up on all of us.
The nice clothes will be purchased, jewelry will polished and it will be a huge parade of "Oh my god, look at me...look at me."   (Gag me with a freakin' spoon)

I intend to go to the reunion, see some old faces and survey the scene.

I mean, let's face it, you can't buy the kind of writing material that class reunions are bound to offer.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

When I Grow Up, I Want To Be RuPaul- A free-verse poem


In Mrs. Reese's third grade class we were asked to write down on yellow construction paper
"When I grow up, I want to be _________"
(Fill in the blank and draw a picture.)

Have you ever been asked a question that you felt you'd waited your entire life to answer?
Well, I have.

It happened in Sally Reese's third grade class at Springdale Elementary School
"When I grow up, I want to be _________"
(Fill in the blank and draw a picture)

Of course, I couldn't write down what I really wanted to be
I glanced around me
My heart beating wildly;
My answer rolling around in my brain
I glanced to my left
To see red strokes of a fire engine on Andrew's paper
I glanced to my right
The girl with a birthmark on her face wrote the word, "Pretty"
I sighed,  picked up my pencil and wrote, "archaeologist"

It was a lie
A good lie, but a lie nonetheless

The fact is, when I was a little girl
I wanted to be RuPaul
I was blithely unaware that "she" was a "he"
And in spite of the fact that I was
a skinny, toe-headed white girl
I felt like in my heart it could happen

I could be an African American Glamazon!

There was something mesmerizing about RuPaul
I think it was mostly how happy she seemed
And how when she smiled, she smiled with her whole face
The way she would lift her arms in the air, spin in a circle and say, "I feel FABULOUS!"

She seemed so...free
Looking back, it's clear that I didn't want to grow up and actually become a drag queen
I just wanted to be that... free

The kind of freedom that knows, despite the looks of:

Disbelief
&
Distaste
&
Discouragement from others

the key to being happy, is being yourself.


To be free...
Free from fear
Free from worry that others would laugh at my ideas an opinions
Free from my self deprecating habits
Free from the whispers delivered through cupped hands into waiting ears
Free from being poor
Free from always grasping at the illusive strands of normality
Free to be myself

It's a nice thought, you know?
When I look back, it is nice to know that all I wanted at the age of 9
was for my older self:

To be happy
To experience happiness without boundaries
To be able to throw my arms high in the air and shout, "I feel FABULOUS!"

I am happy to report
I did it
I have found my freedom
I have discovered my voice
I am learning each day to do things that make me happy
To worry less about the

Disbelief
&
Distaste
&
Discouragement from others

My yellow construction paper had the word "archaeologist" scrawled across the top
If do-overs were a thing
I would go back, and with as many colors and as much glitter as possible, I would answer the one question I'd waited my whole life for:

I would write:
"FREE"


Because it makes me happy...and is sort of the new soundtrack to my life...this song




Sunday, September 9, 2012

My Oldest Friend And A New Life Experience



In case you all haven't noticed, I have been on this quest to try new things.

I mean, variety is the spice of life, right? These new things I've tried...they've mostly been boring things. Things I can do from home or include my family in.

Trying new foods, science experiments...learning to whistle with my fingers. (which will be a really useful life-skill if I ever master it)

This week, I recieved a phone call from my oldest high school friend, Clint.
Before I tell you what the phone call was about, I feel like I need to tell you about Clint.

Clinton Randolph Hays.

My oldest friend. The first time I met Clint we were in seventh grade, and I was crying.
He leaned across to me, pushed his glasses up on his nose and whispered, "Hey, I didn't know if you knew this already...but you're crying and it's kind of loud.If you could just be a little less loud....that would be great." 
I looked up, saw this serious looking face peering at me from behind his wire-rimmed glasses and then laughed.

Those of you who know me, know what kind of laugh I'm talking about.

 I did my scary Phyllis Diller/donkey laugh. He then proceeded to tell me that it takes more muscles to cry than it does to smile, and "Trust me, I am an expert on being lazy."

That day solidified our friendship. From that moment, we were the best of friends. Now, I'm not going to say that we spent every waking moment together, talking about the intricacies of the Universe and spilling our guts to eachother every day because...Ewww.


Who does that?
No one.

We had developed the kind of friendship that could survive the passage of time, and weather through life changes. We didn't have to talk on the phone everyday or see eachother all of the time.

During senior year of high school, our lives were so separate.
 I was busy working, and readying my escape into the big-person world. I was engaged.

Clint was working, but he was also taking his time to experience high school. Delighting in the joys of being an eighteen-ear-old guy with all of the potential in the world.

Our lives were different, but we recognized the differences and we just...didn't care.

We loved eachother for who we were, and how we enriched one another's lives; not for where we were or how we spent our time apart from one another. Sometimes, the only communication we would have in the day was a high five, delivered as we passed in the hall; Clinton's long arm snaking through the traffic of people, extending just enough to reach my short one.

It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Now, here we are, nine years later.
We've graduated.

We've kept in touch through phone calls, dropping cards in the mail and posting silly photos on one another's Facebook walls.

Clinton has been there for every stage of my changing life. He was there for my wedding, my pregnancies, the births of my children and my birthdays. Always ready with a funny story or a Mother's Day greeting. Always returning my calls, or calling me when he needs advice. At the hospital when my son had surgery, getting us food and lightening our pressed spirits.

I think the thing that sticks in my memory the most is when my Granny passed away.

I had just opened the new jewelry store in Durant, I was working seventy hours a week and when Granny died...I just didn't have my wits about me to call anyone. The day of my Granny's funeral, I remember turning to grab some Kleenex , and...there was Clint.

He was there...without a phone call, letter or visit. He was just there.

I could wax poetic from this moment until the day I die about what a marvelous human being Clint is, but it would just make his head swell to unbearable proportions and...then his beautiful girlfriend might have to kill me.

Speaking of Rhiannon, I must be honest...

I didn't think it was possible for there to be anyone in the Universe that was as equally wonderful as Clint. I mean...guys, he's just good. My opinions on that were eviscerated when he introduced me to Rhiannon. The first time I met Rhiannon, I thought, "Well....she just might be one of the prettiest girls I have ever seen up close." We met, went out to dinner , and as we ate our meal, I couldn't help but notice the little, silent things they shared:

She pushed a napkin his way when he got food in his beard.
He began telling a story, and when he forgot the ending... with a single hand motion, she picked up where he left off.

I knew then...he'd found the one.

I don't think I could have hand-picked someone who was a better match for him. Clinton and Rhiannon: two of the most lovely human beings I have ever had the privilege of meeting.

This week, I recieved an unexpected phone call from my friend. He called to tell me that he and Rhiannon are engaged to be married.

 I ,of course, let out a shriek that was at such a high octave, it's possible only dogs heard it.

Then...my oldest friend, gave me an opportunity for a new life experience:

He asked me to marry them.

Yes. You read that correctly. He didn't ask me to say a few words, play the part of photographer for his big day or ask to borrow my children for the ceremony.

He. Asked. Me. To. Marry. Them.


Through the tears, I managed to say, "Wow...I've never done that before....Yes...Yes, I think I can do that."The more I think about it, I'm wondering if I'm going about this new experience thing the wrong way. Should I actively seek out these experiences, or should I just wait for them to find me?
Either way, this experience will not only be something new...it is one of the greatest privileges of my life.

For the new life experience that awaits me, thank you.

For being such amazing friends, and a lovely hand-picked addition to my hodge podge family....I love you guys.

Congratulations.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Mentos & Diet Coke- 2nd New Activity


  Alright, so I must be honest...I was very excited about the prospect of trying 5 new things in 5 days, but thanks to a busy day at the office and then a run in with the head cold from hell...It's going to be more like "5 New Things Whenever I Get The Time To Do It".

Anyway, (time frame aside) yesterday, I was able to mark "Mentos & Diet Coke" off my list. When I was making my list, I put this one on there mostly because I'd seen it done a lot, and it really was something I've always wanted to do.

Frankly..........it wasn't all that exciting.

I'm not sure if it was the extreme heat and humidity, or my slight head cold or....the undeniable fact that putting Mentos in Diet Coke isn't the most exciting activity ever discovered by humans. However...it was exciting (for a minute), and it was something I've never done. It's probably not something I'll rush out to try again, but I'm glad I did it. It was an experience.

MARK IT DOWN, PEOPLE!

I think the biggest problem is I started out with the Nutella. There are few things I enjoy more than food so good, that it makes me want to slap someone. (I ate the Nutella and wanted to slap the shit out of people.) I think the trick will be to eat Nutella before trying new things, and maybe the wave of goodness from tasting the Nutella will completely highten the experience for me.

Because I'm shameless, and you guys enjoyed the last video so much....here is my experience with Diet Coke and Mentos, placed on the interwebs for you to enjoy.

You're welcome.

http://youtu.be/OXf8Eg1Rbu0

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Invaluable Inexperience?



       I have always considered myself a quick study; Eager to learn new things, and fast to pick up new skills.

I was never one to lag behind, and because of this I found I grew up too quickly.

However, at some point in my life, (like most)...life got in the way of all of those "things" I had planned to do.


 Now, when I say "life" I do not mean that in a condescending way.

 I have a beautiful life. A lovely life filled with memories that I wouldn't trade for all of the Nutella in the world.


A life made nearly perfect by the people in it; not by the places I've gone or the drinks I've had or the purses I've bought.
 These experiences that I have missed out on are not things that I look back on with remorse. I know ,oftentimes, people feel resentment for missing out on opportunities to do new things...but not this girl.

I am thankful that I didn't do many of them before now. So thankful simply because...I am beginning to think that my younger self wouldn't have taken such delight in them.

I was too busy growing up, and trying to make things look a certain way, that the joy of even the smallest thing would have flown right past me; Gone before I was even able to catch the tail-end of the happiness it brought with it.

My younger self who never valued simple things like, using the restroom in peace, and taking a shower without answering the never ending parade of questions from the always-inquisitive child on the other side of the curtain.

My younger self would have taken for granted such rights of passage, and been flippant about the joy that such small things can bring.

My younger self wouldn't have taken an hour out of her day just to indulge in a chocolatey-hazelnut treat.

I have four more things on my list that I will do over the next four days.

New things.
Things that I have never done.
Places I have never gone.
Experiences I have never had.
Even without those experiences, I have a memory bag filled with so many beautiful life experiences that I can barely close the top. Even without those experiences, I have experienced a lot.
Now that I'm older, and my life has slowed down;
I can not only do these things, but really experience them.

That not only makes them more exciting...but it makes my inexperience, invaluable.

And because it is so fitting...this song.

"5 New Things In 5 Days" - Popping My Nutella Cherry



So, today began my journey to try 5 new things, over the course of 5 days.

I'm not sure how I managed to make it through my entire life, and never try Nutella- not even once.

I have been reading about it's magical, nutty-chocolatey powers for a few years, but for reasons that escape me....I missed out on the magic.


Until today.

This morning, I purchased a jar of Nutella spread. For three dollars and forty-eight cents, I was able to taste Heaven. I cannot put into words the things that went through my mind other than the obvious:

 "HOW IN THE FUCK HAVE I GONE MY ENTIRE LIFE WITHOUT EVER TRYING THIS STUFF?"

I am so very glad that I took a chance, spent the $3.48 and was able to have my first mouth-gasm.

Thank you, Mr. Ferrero.

For all of you who would like to watch my first experience with Nutella....

Click this link....    http://youtu.be/mvnT_JENMt0

 
 
Also, I was unable to fully gratify my experience with words because....THE NUTELLA MELTED MY BRAIN, but...here is a compilation of songs that fully express how I'm feeling now, and how I felt during the Nutella-ginity losing experience.



 
 
Upon First Tasting..........




During the process of eating my Nutella.....




My Nutella calls to me from the kitchen........


 
 
 
If you haven't experienced Nutella...don't wait. Your mouth-gasm awaits you.

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Publisher! Oh, Publisher! Where For Art Thou, Publisher!?

Not long ago, I looked through my senior yearbook.

After looking at the various photos, laughing at my former seventeen-year-old self , and drawing devil horns and mustaches on the photos of the bitches who were mean to me in high school; I happened upon the the "My Plans After Graduation" page.

Ooohhh...exciting! 

Yes! The glorious page of the yearbook where good intentions and pipe dreams go to die.
Imagine my surprise when I read what seventeen-year-old Lucinda Thompson had to say:

"I plan to go to college, teach, and write a book. I will marry Jerry and live happily ever after."

Huh. I didn't remember writing that.
Okay.
Sounds reasonable enough.

It's actually not too far fetched from the life I am living. The exception being the whole "writing a book" thing. The more I delve into the process of making writing something I do as a career, the more I realize...It's really complicated.

I have found that not only do certain publishing companies only accept specific genres, they only accept them at particular times of the year.

 For instance, if I wrote fictional smutty-romance novels, or dabbled in tween vampire erotica...my writings would be picked up in a heartbeat! (Oh, don't get me wrong, I could write the shit out of some tween-vampire erotica, but...I would then have to kill myself for contributing to what is becoming the weirdest genre of literature in history.)

There has to be a market somewhere for the deranged, yet insightful,  ramblings of a twenty-something year-old-woman who bears the good, bad and ugly parts of herself for the sole purpose of entertaining her readers.


There are a lot of things I disagree with seventeen-year-old Lucinda on... most of them pertain to her clothing/hairstyle/make up decisions, but I think she had something right when she scrawled her life plan on the yearbook submission form that day.

I know that underneath (and intertwined with) all of my brain lint....there is a book.

Not only is there a book, but it's a good book.

A story that many can relate to, and one that is universal to gender, age or geographical location.

Man, it's there.
Right on the edge of coming to fruition, but the process....the process is comparable to having a gynecological exam done by Freddy Krueger: It's like having scary slasher blades invading your most personal of spaces! Yowza!
I would like to use this opportunity to thank everyone who has taken the time to read my deranged ramblings. Those who have combed through my stories, bad analogies and prolific cursing to see what lies beneath.

Thank you...and stick with me!

 Hopefully, I can forge through the seemingly impenetrable forcefield of the publishing world, and produce something worth going to the bookstore to purchase.

Although the process will be long...I plan on proving my younger self, right. For a change.


****Also! If you are reading this, and you were mean to me in high school... Listen, I just want you to know that the devil horns and dastardly mustache drawings are all part of my personalized therapy plan to overcome my traumatic high school experience.

Saturday, September 1, 2012

For The Guys- Things You Probably Didn't Know About Your Favorite Body Part


     Well, it only seemed fair to write about something that would grab the interests of my male readers after talking about periods, pregnancy and labor and delivery in my last few entries.

It's okay if you are a guy and enjoyed reading those posts, I would think less of you if you didn't.

I began thinking about things I could write that would ,not only, interest the men who read my blog, but would also educate them.
Enlighten them.
 Inform them.
I thought...what is the one thing all men think they know everything about? Then I had to rephrase my question because well...most men think they know everything there is to know about everything.

What is the one body part men think they know the most about?
That's right, kids! The penis.
Of course, when it comes to the penis most men probably think they know everything there is to know.

I mean, for heaven's sake...they have one!
They spend a lot of time with it.
They pay careful attention to it.
They foster a relationship with it.

Some men even... name their penises.
 So...just when you think you know everything there is to know about the male reproductive system, I come in (in the nick of time, mind you) to enlighten, and further your education.

You're welcome.



It's a very real possibility that you had your first erection...in utero. - Now, get your minds out of the gutter, people.
Before I go any further, we should discuss two very different types of erections. The first type of erection is called an involuntary erection. These erections occur most commonly when guys are sleeping, and can occur somewhere in the range of ten -fifteen times throughout the night. Involuntary moments of happiness can also occur when your bladder is full. The other kind of erection is the kind most of you scurvy pervs were thinking of. These are erections that are brought on by either mental or physical stimuli. The fact is, boys will be boys, and ultrasound tests have proven that male fetuses have been shown to sport wood in the third trimester. There you go...bet you didn't know that.

You're welcome.





Surgeon General's Warning: Smoking nicotine based products can shorten the length of your penis -
Go ahead.
Re-read that.
Take it in.

If you smoke, now would be the appropriate time to do the whole Macaulay Culkin -"Home Alone"-slapping-your-cheeks-with-your-hands-and-screaming-thing...or click here ... http://justincaseyouwerewondering.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/Macaulay-Culkin.jpg

The effect is similar to smoking's effect on a person's heart. Just like the blood vessels in ones heart can be restricted as a result of smoking those toxic death sticks...the blood vessels in your penis can suffer the same brutal fate. Yes. You read that correctly. This lessened flow has a negative effect on the elasticity of the penis and prevents it from achieving its full length once erect. Studies have shown that over time, these effects can reduce the overall length by as much as 1 cm.

 HOLY SHIT, RIGHT?! According to one researcher, smoking has more direct harmful impact on the penis than it does on the heart.
If you're a man...and you've been searching for a reason to quit smoking, and this doesn't make you do it... You need to have your brain checked for abnormalities.


If your penis length falls somewhere between these two numbers...you're completely normal - The smallest, natural penis on record is 5/8 of an inch long. (Is that even a real number?! ) It is held by a man named , John Lee. This is actually a medical condition called "micropenis".
Who knew?!

 The largest, natural penis on record is 9 inches...when flacid.
(That just sounds wrong, doesn't it?!)

Anyway, if you fall anywhere between 5/8 of an inch and 9 inches (sans erection)...you are perfectly normal. This is a good thing.
During my research I also found a funny article about Mr. Jonah Falcon, or as I like to call him "Mr. Scary Penis". http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/07/16/jonah-falcon-largest-penis-frisked-by-tsa_n_1675767.html

This seemed perfectly appropriate again....

 
 
 
 
Paying attention to your penis will help you grow a beard! -
Now, that doesn't mean every man with a beard has a high sex drive. It is scientifically proven that all of the things that happen during the arousal process, including the extra blood flow, stimulate cell growth. This includes hair. Hair growth is definitely stimulated by sexual activity or even the expectation of it for many people. That's right! You've heard the old adage about anticipation...apparently, this is true for growing those righteous beards!  Case studies of sailors at sea recorded hair growth accelerated right before shore leave , but slowed down upon return to the ship. Good to know! 








28 mph. - Studies at the Kinsey Institute have proven that the average speed at which a man ejaculates is 28 mph. Holy. Shit.
That's fast. Not only is this true, there have been several experiments conducted.

According to the Kinsey Institute, 28 mph is in excess of the top speeds of the greatest runners in the world.That's pretty cool. I'll give you that one, guys. Pat yourselves on the back.
 
Another fun fact I discovered: Over the course of an average man's life, he will expel (at a startling 28 miles per hour, nonetheless) 14 gallons of ejaculate materials. Look at you! A bunch of overachievers, aren't you?!





And what kind of a lady would I be, if I didn't save the most...enlightening material for the end.





 

Two Words: Penile. Rupture. - I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Pump the brakes, Lucy! Those two words should never be side by side in a sentence!"

I know. It sounds scary, right? Painful. Life threatening. It is all of those things, and...just so you know...this is something that is almost always self induced.

That's right. All of those times when your mother said, "That's going to fall off it you keep playing with it."

She almost had it right. Basically, penile rupture happens when you give yourself one too many low fives, and you rupture the big tube that helps blood flow to your penis during the erection process. Typically, when penile rupture occurs one will hear a cracking or popping sound and then experience a sudden loss of erection. No worries, though! There is corrective surgery that can repair the damage you've caused to yourself, but it is emergency surgery!

 So, if you here a pop...

stop..
.
AND GET YOUR ASS TO THE HOSPITAL!

(I put this one in here to balance out the whole 28 mph thing. Remember, everything in moderation.)


So...there you go, a few fun facts about things guys want to hear about. Now, stop sending me griping letters about writing about pregnancy, periods and girly stuff all the time!