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I’ve over thought my childhood addictions

Lately, I’ve been on a Gossip Girl kick. Namely because Netflix, and everybody knows what Netflix does to you.

Which means that since Gossip Girl is six seasons long, I’ve been watching this show for ages and ages. I mean, for forever.




So, imagine me, last night, somewhere between the hours of 2 and 3 am, watching Gossip Girl over and over. I read the books in their entirety from when the first one was released in like…2001 or something, until the last one came out sometime during college. Thus, I love the books, I love the show, and I know it like the back of my hand.

Or so I thought.

(Insert ominous music here)

I’m one of those people who will watch a show over and over. I’m one of those people who reads books over and over.  I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve gone through a series despite knowing it so well. But I was watching Gossip Girl last night and this happened.

Remember Eva?

THIS CHICK. She comes into Gossip Girl and saves Chuck from a gunshot wound despite being a random chick in Poland. It’s bizarre. And I’m watching her, and for some reason, she’s bugging me more than normal. There’s the normal botheration, where I’m so angry at her for screwing up my favorite fictional characters universe. And then there’s this weird thought in the back of my head, like I know her.

It’s that terrible moment where you see someone on the street and you know you know them so you smile, but you can’t remember why you know them so you’re just this idiot smiling at this other person trying to remember things before you pass them by and are branded as the smiling idiot on the street.

So, I Google her. Because it’s entirely possible to Google an actor in 2014, even if you can’t Google the random person on the street to find out why you know them.


And I cannot believe that I missed this. Sure, it’s probably normal that you don’t realize one actor is in two completely different things. Sure, it’s probably fine that the dots didn’t connect because it’s just Harry Potter and it’s just Gossip Girl, and I do have a real life outside of books and movies and things.


But seriously. I could not figure out how I missed this.

She's a witch, Hotchy.

That’s about when I went off the deep end of pop culture.



And that was Tuesday. 

POST SCRIPT RUN ON SENTENCE. I’m sorry I haven’t blogged but it’s stuff like this that is reasons I haven’t and HAVEN’T YOU MISSED ME or ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED or something like that.



Genetics and stuff. As in, I made my child in my belly. BabyDaddy helped.

So, apparently, to go to kindergarten (literally, from German “children’s garden), there is a “screening” that needs to be done.

It makes sense. Basically, as I was explained it, the school checks on the kid’s skills, to make sure he is up to par to handle kindergarten (a big step up from the “pre” stages of life) and then if he’s not, gives you things to work on so he will be come the start of school.


My kid passed with flying colors because he’s mother beeping awesome.


We’re leaving the screening, and I’m talking with his new teacher (also mother beeping awesome). And she’s telling me about how thrilled she was to meet Boo, and how excited about school he is, etc etc.

Teacher: Boo has some great stories to tell!

Me: Oh yeah, he’s good at that.

Boo: Just like my mom.

[Teacher and I both turn to look at Boo]

Boo: On her blog.

Genetics, guys. Hard at work. Next guest blog, by Boo.


Bells, whistles, and other celebratory things.

The other day, in a fit of comment-versation, Nathan Triple Name and I decided to gang up and write a post or two together. You know, board games, sex, metaphors – Oh, the metaphors! – and other such interesting things that keep you people chuckling with me*.

Well, he asked me what next week’s post should be about, and I right away jumped on the monopoly bandwagon.

What kind of sex metaphor does Megapoly give?

Then, I started brainstorming, and went to write a draft when I realized it. 99 published posts. Next post:

glitter -

What exactly does one do to celebrate 100 published posts?

Board games?

Sexual Boardgames?


I’ll save those for another day. After all, you do not know about the great game I invented when I graduated high school, involving food, body parts, and twister.

You know what I’ll share with you today? 10 5 things I’ve gotten out of the last 100 posts.

Two thumbs up for blogging! And for this old picture I found, of me two thumbs upping!

1. The chance to write, write, and write some more. I hadn’t been writing as much before I rediscovered blogging. Sure, I had a xanga back in the day, but that went kibosh in college. I used to write in journals all the time too, but life gets busy, and that gets put to the wayside too. Then I found my way to the blogosphere. Blogging gets you more involved in what you’re writing. Instant feedback(unless you assholes don’t comment).

2. Chasing dreams, achieving dreams. I wrote a book. I’ve actually written four books. Bits and pieces of lots of books. Books and stories and tellings of things where you can see people stop and listen and take in what you are sharing with them. Geez, what a feeling. But I’m actually taking full fledged steps to try and get some of my stuff published. One of these days, guys. Something will be on the shelves with my name on it, and you’ll remember me from here.

3. Hi, friends. People that read your blog? They’re real people. You can be friends with them. 

4. Technology and I might constantly have angry angsty breakups. But at least we get along now. Some of the stuff that goes on with having a blog is having some technology know how. I have what’s called “shit breaks constantly around me.” But with a little patience, and a lot of friends who are more talented at this stuff with me, I actually feel competent about posting stuff. I even made my very own blog button. Yes, I know it’s not hard. I don’t care. Oh, and my phone doesn’t have a cracked screen right now. Knock on wood. 

5. L.A., this is L.A. Having a blog name was originally to protect the innocent.

Protecting the innocent

Protecting the innocent

 I blogged about life, to de-stress, to sort things out in my head, to be angry in a more healthy manner. To apparently piss people off (that acutally happened a lot). But somewhere in the realm of going from blogging about life and blogging about people, to whatever the fuck it is I’m doing now, I came more to terms with who I am. L.A., or Laura Anne, or just Laura, because no one actually calls me Laura Anne, ever. The blog is on facebook now, and even my mother has read the occasional post. Between tsk-ing me for the swears, she’s all,

You know Bunso, you are a good writer.

And that’s nice. I like those moments.

So, here’s to the last 100 posts. And probably another 100 more. I do have a lot of drafts saved of terrible, terrible stories involving texts that say:

Him: Do you know what I want for St. Patrick’s Day?

Me: the same thing I want?

Him: L.A. with a side of rainbow.

You never know what’s coming, guys.

P.S. What’s your favorite post on Chicks in the Mitt?

*Yes, I know you’re not chuckling with me. You’re just chuckling…around me**.

**Yes, I know you’re not chuckling around me, but chuckling at me. 

Challenge Extended: Challenge Accepted

The other day, I was ranting and roaring about how much trouble I’ve  been having being funny.

Inner Monologue: It’s because you aren’t funny.

Me: I’m so funny. I’m just having trouble writing it down.

Inner Monologue: That’s not true. I remember everything. It’s not funny.

Me: Liar.

Actual Other Human Being: …Are you talking to yourself?

This of course brought on the conversation where I explained why I was talking to myself and of course, the important fact that I’m not bat shit crazy, I’m just a blogger with some major issues. Those being writer’s block. Nothing more.


So, the actual human being checked out this blog, told me I was kind of funny when I’m not trying, and told me that obviously, if I just wrote everything down, something funny would happen, and then it would be captured in writing and the world would right itself.


Like I didn’t think of that.

Then, he proceeded to bet me the price of my dignity, and an additional $20 that I couldn’t continuously post for a whole week — which means something readable and more than fifty words and not totally judged and not posted would have to go up everyday. For a week.

No judgement for a week.

So, you people can be the judges. Once a day for seven days. Starting today, since by the time we made this bet, yesterday’s post had already gone up and APPARENTLY, in this establishment, small people are not allowed to ride dogs like horses. Or count previously posted blogs.

So, I’m brainstorming. Here’s what I’ve got so far:

Pickles, by the way, is one of my favorite comic strips. Because they are SO my parents.

That gets me, counting today, through four days of the week. I need some ideas kids. I’ll split the $20 with you. Between all my readers, that’s like fifty cents for everybody. And as Smash Mouth once said, we could all use a little change.

I lost count. Assume there's one for everybody.

I lost count. Assume there’s one for everybody.

Update, yo.

I’m saying “yo” an excessive amount today. It feels appropriate — like when I tell you all about how the bet is going, yo.

Day 1: You’re looking at it.

Day 2: A man works his magic. Like actual magic. Not sure if other “magic” was being attempted.

Day 3: Alto meets hockey. Hilarity ensues.

Day 4: #LettersFromLA still exists, but costs more. Ya’ll international folk owe me 15 cents.

The World is Ending and I’m Turning 25.

So I just have to state how amazing my best friend/co-blogger really is. I’m so happy that I have her in my life to keep me sane and to keep our blog alive and well. Bravo, L.A.!!!

I apologize for my absence. Life gets going for me and I get writers block, making it hard to keep in touch.

This morning I received some snail mail from the Secretary of State. The state of Michigan politely reminded me that I’m turning 25 on December 23rd, and my driver’s license will expire. I do wonder if I have to renew since the world is ending on the 22nd. I will have to call customer service and ask. Maybe they have the answer on the ‘Frequently asked Questions’ section of their website.


I have been alive for a quarter of a century. Such a monumental moment. I have reached my quarter life crisis. How should I deal with this dilemma? Buy a sport car? Date a younger man? Get hair plugs?

No, none of these excite me so I decided to list the 25 things I have learned by the age of 25. Drum roll, please….

  1. A smile can get you a long way.
  2. If a guy says others think he is an asshole, then he is an asshole.
  3. Never regret paying for an expensive pair of jeans. No one will ever complain that your butt looks too good when wearing them.
  4. Pay attention to how a guy treats his mom. He will treat you the same way.
  5. Love as hard as you can. And never regret it.
  6. Nothing is ever final in life.
  7. Always be overdressed.
  8. Enter every room like you’re in technicolor.
  9. Find your signature perfume.
  10. Write down your goals. You will complete them if you do.
  11. Quit the job you hate. You didn’t want to be there anyways.
  12. Find a reason to laugh at the bad moments in your life, then you will only have good memories in your mind.
  13. You can live without the guy you thought you couldn’t. And you will be happier that you did.
  14. Kill your competition with kindness.
  15. Don’t date him if doesn’t tell you that you look nice on the first date.
  16. Asking questions is the most intelligent thing you can do for yourself.
  17. Always step out of your comfort zone. The mystery is the best part.
  18. Don’t date him if he doesn’t make you laugh.
  19. Your best friends are your true soulmates.
  20. Time is an enemy and a friend. Accept it.
  21. Start a dance floor wherever you go.
  22. Laugh at yourself before others can.
  23. Having a good hair day is like winning the lottery.
  24. Always apply more mascara.
  25. Look at the world differently each day.

After writing this list, I think I have found inner peace if the world does supposedly end on the 22nd of the December.

I’m ready to celebrate my life at the age 25. Who wants to join my party? But, I refuse to scream YOLO…

ERMAHGERD, awards and things.

 I posted already this week, about thighs and stuff, having nothing to do with chicken, and everything to do with biking. And baseball, and excuses, and this dance where Boo thrusts and yells things. And I was going to call it good for posting on the week, even though I probably owe you guys two weeks of posts. They’re coming.


Then I got on twitter this morning, and was all sorts of tired and just going to complain all day like I normally do on Mondays. Even though it’s Friday. I can still complain on Fridays, right??

But today was different. @doitalone, the lovely Stephanie from over at, had done one of those award things. And given it to me.

I don’t know how much you’ve paid attention to the blog, but I don’t win things often. There was that weird period of time where people kept letting me win stuff and then the universe imploded because it didn’t know what to do with itself. Because normally, I don’t win. I’m just there. When I was in 8th grade, and they did the class awards, I won Quietest Girl. Which was basically codename for we’ve run out of the good awards and this is what’s left.

I got “participation” awards more than “excelling” awards. People don’t really applaud you for just showing up. They just hand you a run of the mill Microsoft Published Certificate where they may have even spelled your name wrong after teaching you for the past nine years.


But anyway. Stephanie passed this award on, and since I think it’s the first one we’ve gotten, I’m going to even [mostly] follow the rules of it. And you guys get another post, yay!

The rules for The Liebster Award are as follows:

  • Each person must post 11 things about themselves.
  • Answer the questions the person giving the award has sent you.
  • Create 11 questions for the people you will be giving the award to.
  • Choose 11 people to award and send them the link to your post. Go to their page and tell them.
  • No tag backs.

I’m going to count the little section where school didn’t love me enough to give me awards and/or I didn’t try hard enough to get awards as the 11 facts about me. If you need more facts, check out the about me page. It’s been there awhile. There’s probably 10 other facts there.

As for the questions Stephanie posed for us (thanks for only doing 4 :))

1.  What is your favorite song?  And what memory do you think about every time you hear it?

My favorite song is by The Beatles. Blackbird. It’s been my favorite song by them ever since I got the White Album on LP when I was younger. The memory that I end up associating with it is more a person than a specific memory — one of my close friends from my freshman year of college was also a big fan of the Beatles and when he found out that Blackbird was my favorite song, he learned it for me. I can still picture him coming up to me in the dorm hall to play it for me.  Every time I hear that song, I think of him. Even a few years after this, when he and I ended up hanging out again, I think of him and this song. I even wrote a post about it.

2.  Tell me the story of your first love, and how it ended.

My first love — what I thought was love — was when I was in 7th grade. I mailed the guy I like a letter (writing letters even back then) telling him I like him, and he asked me to skate at the next skating party. We skated to Aerosmith’s Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing. I was smitten. I fell head over heels into puppy love. We dated for a few months, which seemed like a lifetime in middle school days. Then he broke up with me because he told me his mom heard me swearing on the playground and didn’t like that. And I cried. A lot. And listened to Vertical Horizon on repeat for the next month or so. I guess I’ll never know why we really broke up — but I get to tell people that my first kiss was in the entrance way of a church. Which is so awkward that it’s awesome.

3.  Everyone has lost a friend in their life, which friend have you lost that you most regret?  How did you lose them?  Why do you regret it?

There was a period of time where I worked at Macy’s — terrible job, great people to work with. And I became really close with my friend MacyShe and I played soccer together, worked together, went out together, went to our first Red Wings game together. We were incredibly close. She got an opportunity for herself out of state — and ended up leaving for a few months. While she was gone, obviously she and I both changed, grew,  made new friends, etc. But when she came back, and things were different, we ended up having a falling out —

After awhile, we ended up reconnecting and making up, but I regret that I didn’t step up and figure things out when she first returned. I lost that period of time having her as a friend, and I wish that I could take that back.

4.  If you could go back in time and change one moment in your life in the last six months – what would it be and why?  What do you want the outcome to be?

…I had a drunk night last month. It didn’t end well. I’m not sure why. I’d take that back. Whatever I did, I’d take it back. Thanks, dollar beers.

Now…questions for who I’m tagging:

1. What made you start to blog? What’s your favorite topic to write about?

2. What is your dream occupation if you could anything regardless of money or time?

3. Innie or Outie?

4. What is your go-to song right now that you probably have on repeat on your iPod?

TaGGiNG: Erin, The Confederacy of Spinsters (any or all), Matthew, and Lina.

IN CONCLUSION. Everyone go thank Stephanie for giving you more reading material here.