Holy Friday Batman. This week went by so quickly that I haven’t even had a chance to watch Chuck from two Monday’s ago. Maybe even 3 weeks ago. I can’t even keep track of tv anymore.

Not that I’m complaining or anything. I’m all about the quick work-week. Except that I really wish that I could slow my evenings down a little bit. I have so much to do but I seem to keep finding a thousand-million other things to do to avoid the things I actually have to do.

It doesn’t help much that the Oscars are coming up in a couple weeks. I am so behind on my goal to see every movie  nominated in all the major categories that I’m 100,000% sure that it’s not going to happen this year, which is disappointing…. but I’m not giving up without a good college try. Thank you life. This is the first time in 3 years that it won’t happen.

Then add in the fact that it’s the time of year that all the best bands are coming to town, and I’m super screwed for time. Not that I’ll actually get to see most of the shows due to lack of funds, but thanks to Julie, I’ve recently gotten addicted to listening to bands who are coming to town on LaLa.com. It’s an awesome site, but it’s sucking up all of my free time and all of my money 10 cents at a time. If you are a member- be sure to let me know so I can follow you and waste a bajillion more hours listening to all of the songs that you like.

Of course there’s also the big huge purple Woolly Mammoth in the room. What’s that? Oh yeah. I’m moving in a week.

Like. Woah.

I’ve been avoiding this like I avoid bathing suit season. I pretend like it’s just not going to happen and I avoid doing anything to get ready for it.

I haven’t done a single thing to prepare save pay my deposit for the new place. I haven’t gotten boxes. I haven’t found a bed. We still don’t have a refrigerator. I don’t even know how I’m going to get all of my stuff from point A to point B… and the two points are not very close together.

I think the reason that I’m not stressing too hard is because I have moved nearly every year since I started college (9 freaking years ago,) and it always seems to get done.

There was only one house that I lived in for more than a year and ***sighhhhhhhhh I miss that place dearly.

It was my last two years of college. My friend Kt and I lived in this little yellow house with a red door that we dubbed the “Anna St. house”  because it was on Anna St. We are real creative like that. It could have also easily been dubbed “Neighborhood Soup Kitchen” or “House of a thousand roaches,” but I loved it whatever it was called.

We painted each room a different color. Kt’s room was light blue, and mine was purple. We painted the bathroom bright pink. We covered our antique fridge with pictures of our favorite classic movie stars.

There was no central air or any heat… period, which meant that during the winters we usually brought both of our space heaters into the living room and made a super pallet on the wood floor. There was one winter when we had at least three of our homeless friends living with us and we literally did have what felt like a soup-kitchen. We made huge vats of tortilla soup, bundled up in layers of sweats, and watched movie after movie cuddled up on the floor.

Did I mention that we didn’t have cable or internet? We survived playing board games and watching VHS tapes and Friends DVDs and the entire bootleg series of Seinfeld that showed up on our doorstep one day unannounced. Our electricity was cut off every other month, and we went a few months without hot water. We also had a jungle in our back yard. Whenever I would let Stella out, I could tell where she was by watching the bamboo sway. And I wasn’t kidding about the roaches. We also had period of time when we had a plethora of fleas and rats.

Regardless, that house is one of the only places that I have ever really been able to call home since I left the house I grew up in.

Until now.

Even though we’ve moved houses, I’ve lived with the same 4 people for the last two years and I am going to miss this them a ton. I know we’ll still see each other plenty, but it’s weird living with friends for so long and then all of a sudden they are not part of your daily ritual. On the other hand, it will be nice to not live with so many people,and I’m really excited about living with my bff LA.  It’s so bittersweet, this move.

Ok enough sappiness. I’m ready to start my- what I hope to be a productive weekend- with a smile.

But before any productivity begins, my friend Moops and I are attending a Nirvana cover band concert tomorrow night at House of Blues. I keep winning these concert tickets from the Dallas Observer, and it’s awesome!

Expect a full review next week. At some point. If I even have a second to write. Expect a few words about it at the least.

And speaking of Moops, he has really been wanting to start a blog. This is my friend who inspired all of this, and he’s the guy I know who is most likely to leave a bar naked. It’s only natural that he will want to share these incidents with the world.

Can we offer him a little encouragement to actually get it started?? I have already set up the Blogspot for him, and he has plenty of entertaining material, and you will all love him… so maybe in the comments tell him how much you would like to read his blog and he will FINALLY do this!!!

YAYYYY!! Thank you honey bunches of oats and have a Hollywood weekend, on me!

Loves you! And my boyfriend John Cusack does too!!

Make sure you check back to Lilu’s Archives… You will laugh your ass off!

Ok people, you know the rules. If you are in any way related to me, have a high opinion of me, get grossed out easily, or most importantly- are of the male variety- it might be a good idea for you to leave now.

Like really…This one is not for ones who are easily grossed out… skiddadle!

Too far? Perhaps.

Yes indeed, kiddos- Today’s topic is…. Yeast Infections!!!

You hear that?

That was the sound of me losing about 300 Facebook friends and all of my followers on Twitter.

Oh well.

(Who am I kidding? Nowhere near that many people read this…)

If you are a woman, and have taken antibiotics or left a swimsuit on too long, you’ve probably had one. I am lucky enough to have only had a few, but my experience with them was bad enough that I have moved them up to #2 on the list of things that I would rather eat 7 boogers to avoid. (and I hate boogers with a passion.) I know there is nobody who enjoys them, (except for maybe a self-hating masochist) but I feel my hate affair with yeast infections is an especially passionate one.

I probably didn’t pay close enough attention in my Human sexuality class, because when I woke up one morning  and felt like a Queen fire ant had decided to settle her colony in the lower region of my body, the possibility that it could be a yeast infection didn’t even cross my mind. Of course I came to the conclusion that most naive girls would… that I had contracted some nasty, horrible, itching disease! I didn’t want to tell any of my friends about it, so I called my mother.

I was only a Junior in college at the time, and I think my parents still preferred to believe that my “true love waits” ring was planted firmly on my finger. This made it exceptionally difficult for me to tell my mother, between sobs, that not only was I a huge slut who had “done more than make out” with a boy, but I had also caught a disease that made me want to tear my eyeballs out of my head. She was surprisingly calm and made an appointment for me to see a doctor.

It only took a few minutes after my doctor checked out my lady bits, before she told me the diagnosis. I prepared my self for the worst.

After she told me, I was quiet for a few seconds as I let it all sink in.

A yeast infection?

A YEAST INFECTION!!!!

I couldn’t even be happy that I wasn’t diseased, because I gave up my parent’s pristine view of myself… for a yeast infection???

Nevertheless, I picked up my medicine, went home and put it in, then spent the next 6 hours lying upside down on the couch with my feet up in the air, in hopes that that would expedite the process.

Since that day, I have vowed to go to great lengths to avoid experiencing the dreaded Y.I again. As I have told you before, I have a teensy bit of an obsession with Web MD. You’d be surprised at all the useful  interesting information out there to prevent Y.I’s .. Plus  it makes me feel better to know I’m being pro-active. I make sure I remove any wet bathing suits as soon as I get out of the water. I even change after a hard work out. I try to eat a diet rich with yogurt and miso soup. I take AZO yeast prevention pills, Pro biotic supplements, and Cranberry pills.

This picture was taken a few weeks ago at a bar. These items were in my purse.

(Yes, I’m aware that I probably shouldn’t follow the home remedies I read on the internet, nor do I need to take so many pills a day… but who am I not to take advice from strangers?)

In case your curious, I have also found some options on the internets for home remedy just in case you do get a case of the “rip out my vajayjay-sies.”

*Honey… You’re supposed to essentially smear it on your netherlands. From what I can tell, it doesn’t do anything but make your legs stick together. But it does smell delicious.

*Vinegar… poured into the bathtub. It doesn’t do a damn thing except make your whole body smell like a foot.

*Yogurt… You’re supposed to put it in there.  I don’t even really like to put yogurt in my mouth all that much.

*Hydrogen Peroxide... I use hydrogen peroxide nightly in my mouth and it kind of bubbles.  hmmm….

*Garlic… Keeping out vampires and yeast infections since 1703. (but you also have to put this shiz up there.)

Whatever you do ladies, no matter how crazy you may feel… Do not, I repeat DO NOT reach for the round brush on your bed side table.

*** I just realized that this was the second TMI that I have posted about devastating events involving my wa-nana where I had to cry to my mamma. Neither my relationship with my mother, nor my relationship with my lady parts are usually so dramatic.

And in other completely unrelated “Too Much Information” news, today when I was taking a shower, I noticed that I have seriously been neglecting mowing my upper thighs. I mean seriously, if I were to show you a picture (I won’t! You’re welcome!)- you would definitely think I were a man right now. It is definitely time for a little upper leg maintenance.