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Flashback Monday has no alliteration and is not a catchy title at all.

I found myself thinking back to my freshman year of college, when I coined the…

laying on the floor thinking about stuff

…playlists that I still make today.

If you’ve been there, then you know – dorm rooms weren’t very big. My roommate 202 and I did ended up doing the laying down listening to music thing all the time. The songs I listened to back then are like therapy. Play me some Something Corporate and I’m right back there in my dorm room with the smell of burnt popcorn from down the hall and the sound of various friends yelling up at our window, because we were right above the door to the lobby.

In tiny little picture version, this is where I spent an excessive amount of 2005 and 2006.

In tiny little picture version, this is where I spent an excessive amount of 2005 and 2006.

So, I started making a list of those songs. The ones that pretty much summed up that year of life, because for some reason, that’s one of those really vivid years in my memory. I even went back and looked at an old journal and found out that Yes, these songs are those memories, and if you’re ever trying to time travel ala Christopher Reeves, this is what you should listen to.

I didn’t even realize how much the songs resonated in my memory until I re-read various portions of Hook Ups, Let Downs, and the other Nine Inches.

Like…

Dean started hanging out in my room a lot more. After dinner, when Nicole went off to rehearsal, he’d come over, eating my food and sneaking in beer. He and I had what I considered a real college friendship. We’d bash W . and contemplate how the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s had saved us from teenage angst.

And…

I lay down on the floor of the dorm room. I had the Yeah Yeah Yeahs playing on repeat, Karen O wailing over and over.

They don’t love you like I love you…” I whispered along, not able to move, or not wanting to.

Yeah. Karen O was pretty much my best friend in 2005.

The Time Traveling List of Songs that L.A. overplayed in 2005

  1. Jack’s Mannequin – The Mixed Tape
  2. Jack’s Mannequin – Bruised
  3. Matt Nathanson – Angel
  4. Matt Nathanson – I Saw
  5. Something Corporate – Walking By
  6. Something Corporate – Punk Rock Princess
  7. Death Cab for Cutie – Photobooth
  8. Lifehouse – You & Me
  9. Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Modern Romance/Poor Song
  10. Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Maps

Do you have any memories that are triggered by music? Any songs that just resonate a time or a place or a person for you?

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VD.

I did a project on St. Valentine once for my 10th grade religion class. My teacher was a nun, and gave me an A- for seeming completely nonplussed about St. Valentine’s martyrdom.

“Are you happy about this Saint, Laura? He dies.

I wish I had a picture of this nun, complete with sound recording, to show you exactly how distressed she was by my attitude. It ever so perfectly sums up how I am towards Valentine’s day.

I wouldn’t be too surprised too, if St. Valentine was in the same boat as me on today’s culture though — chocolate and hearts and OHMIGOD, I DIED FOR MY RELIGION and all.

Here, in no particular order are my favorite Valentine’s tales of my life, thus far.

 

1. My first Valentine.

My seventh grade boyfriend and I fostered a great love, that spanned two skating parties, my first kiss, and approximately five months. That’s basically marriage, guys. Love and marriage, Catholic school style. The relationship did pass by a Valentine’s day, which meant we gave each other gifts and stuff — I actually don’t remember what I gave him – color me shocked, as usually I remember everything.

It was probably like…a rhyming poem, typed in size 12, impact font.

But he gave me chocolate and a card. It was very nice, and I remember opening it up, all excited and….

Dear Seventh Grade L.A.,

Seventh grade words of like love and stuff.

From, Seventh Grade Boyfriend

Granted, he drew hearts around the word “from.”

 

2. When records are broken instead of hearts.

During my splurge of “I don’t know why social media keeps letting me win things,” NeighborGirl and I entered a Red Wings Wing[wo]man contest. 

Goose and Maverick.

Goose and Maverick.

We submitted why we should be allowed to watch hockey on Valentine’s Day.

Men are good at disappointing. There are the men that don’t call, the men that won’t stop calling, and the men that don’t appreciate you. That’s why we want to spend our Valentine’s Day with the Red Wings, the men who have never really let us down. 98 new potentials couldn’t hurt either. This Valentine’s Day, we don’t want chocolates, roses, or even a candlelit dinner. We want cold beer, rowdy fans, and a Red Wings victory. The only red we want to see is blood on the ice.

Which we won, along with a bunch of other single people, which meant that we were watching hockey on Valentine’s Day. This was actually a wonderful Valentine’s Day.

 

3. Anonymous.

High school really did more of the same thing that middle school did. Holidays would come around and we would send candy to each other to support like…athletics and stuff. I’m not actually sure where the money we spent went. Except the bon bons. If you bought bon bons, you were definitely supporting the Latin Club and the Latin teacher’s probable drinking habit because my latin class was definitely a reason to drink.

By this point of life, I had realized that I was really socially awkward, and had no idea how I’d managed to straggle successfully through my formative years thus far. I was single probably because of all those things, and maybe because I once tried to make a utility belt out of crushed velvet and the back pockets out of a pair of jeans to carry my pens and TI-83 in.

This utility belt was actually made out of my Halloween 1999 "punk rock" costume.

This utility belt was actually made out of my Halloween 1999 “punk rock” costume.

Weird little L.A.

Imagine my surprise then, and the surprise of my girl friends, when I received a candy-gram.

To L.A.

From: ???

Instead of a message, this person drew an arrow, pointing to the computer printed bear saying Happy Valentine’s Day. We never did find out who sent that one.

 

4. Nothing says I love you like a text message.

Because the college version of me was so romantic, I chose to send my love not by flowers or candy, but by text.

This was college L.A. You're probably less surprised that I texted Happy Valentine's now.

This was college L.A. You’re probably less surprised that I texted Happy Valentine’s now. Please note that I am wearing an NES wristband and have a flip phone clipped to my pocket.

In honor of the holiday, I sent this text off:

Happy Valentine’s Day! I love you!

The response:

Who’s number is this?

 

5. Finally,  I’d like to direct your attention to Valentine’s conversation with my sister, VS.

“I’m going out with some girls for Valentine’s Day.” VS tells me.

“That’s always so depressing,” I lament.

“No, it’s empowering,” VS argues.

“Oh yes,” I say. “A toast to our empty vaginas!”

VS shrugs this off. “We’ll put chocolate in them.”

 

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Happy Spring, Ya’ll. It’s snowing.

It’s my son’s spring break this week.

Wait.

Let me say it correctly:

Spring Break. Y’aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall.

In honor of this sort of holiday, some people that Mickey Mouse used to love got together and made a movie. In honor of bad decisions and curiosity, GoldDust and I headed out last week to see this giant collapse of morals and the Disney castle.

Thus, I present to you:

A summation of Spring Breakers

L.A.: Did you ever go on Spring Break?

GoldDust: No, I worked.

L.A.: Me too.

GoldDust: This is so many boobs.

L.A.: I think I did college wrong.

GoldDust: I thought this was supposed to be funny?

L.A.: …

James Franco: LOOK AT ALL MY SHIT. SOMETHING ABOUT CALVIN KLEIN

[Cue only us laughing]

GoldDust: Does this make you uncomfortable?

[Extreme close up of James Franco’s face]

L.A.: Yes.

GoldDust: Do you want to leave?

L.A.: Yes.

In the bar after:

L.A.: Here’s what’s wrong. Spring Breakers was supposed to be a comedy-drama-thriller movie. They must have just gotten confused with so many genres.

GoldDust: Selena Gomez should be buying my drink.

In conclusion, I hope I’ve saved your spring break. Did you see Spring Breakers? Better Question, did you do college right?

L.A.: I don’t actually mind how my spring breaks went if this is how it’s supposed to go.

Random: Well, this was supposed to be like worst case scenario.

GoldDust: We actually did college right.

L.A. was only waiting for that moment.

Photo credit to shutterstock.com

Good Morning, wordpress universe.

I’m actually a wealth of things that have gone down. But some of these happenings are boring, and others are territory I’m not sure I’m willing to go into (see Toast and the rules of readers of the blog.) Therefore. I give you a story to keep you interested in me.

January 2009

I haven’t dated…really, ever. I went from boyfriend to boyfriend, and high school to college.

I get a call from an old friend. Do you remember him?

Blackbird.

He invites me over. I have nothing to lose, and I miss my old friend. So I go.

FAST FORWARD.

We’re sitting in Blackbird’s bedroom. It’s a mess, and makes me nostalgic for his old dorm room we used to sit it. He has rickety old office chairs that we’re perched in. Mine is broken and keeps tilting backwards, until Blackbird pulls me over to him by my legs.

“We have been so much closer than this,” he tells me. “This is ridiculous.” He hooks my legs over his lap.

I realize for the first time how nervous I am to be there. Not because it’s Blackbird, and not because of how close his face his getting to mine, but because here I am, alone with a boy…

Blackbird is getting closer to me. I can feel it coming. I can feel the warmth of his breath.

“Hand that to me, would you?” He moves past me and I exhale, loudly. I turn, and realize he’s going for his guitar, which I hand over to him, blushing. He wasn’t going to kiss me.

“I think I remember how this goes,” he says, plucking at the strings. A few notes. A few chords. “Are you going to help me?” He asks me, smiling.

I’m having another flashback to that dorm room. He and I sitting on his loft bed. Him laying down with his guitar, head resting on my lap. I remember that he can’t really sing.

“Blackbird, singing in the dead of night,” my voice cracks. “Take these broken wings and learn to fly.”

Blackbird has stopped playing. He’s just watching me.

“All your life,” I continue. He’s getting closer again. “You were only waiting for this moment to-”

And then, Blackbird kissed me.