Likes & Loathes Lately

Here's what's happening lately...

Likes

...The new gray paint on my bedroom walls. I picked out a shade called Sparrow because it was nice and dark. I have painted those walls three times now and am relieved that the painting phase is past. All that's left is cutting and installing the baseboards then the room itself is FINISHED. 

...Ironically, my new oil painting class. Painting a canvas is more liberating than trying to paint a straight edge around a doorframe.

...Costa Vida. I used to think, why would I bother with something similar to Cafe Rio when I can just get Cafe Rio? Well, they're less expensive, less crowded, they have specials for students, and the customer service is better. Usually I'm sympathetic to anyone in the service industry (been there), but lately Cafe Rio's employees have ranged from indifferent to nasty. I imagine working in a busy restaurant sucks, but please stop acting like we're all here to ruin your life.

...Into the Woods. I could watch it over and over and over. I especially love: Emily Blunt as The Baker's Wife, Meryl Streep as The Witch, and Chris Pine as Prince Charming. I may elaborate in a future post if I'm seized by the notion. 

...Valentine's Day decorations replacing Christmas decorations. 

...A new game I tried out over the weekend called Loaded Questions. 

...The departure of a couple people at work. Including someone who's fairly notorious around here... Yup. The office has breathed a collective sigh of relief. But she left on her own steam, guys... I wouldn't celebrate someone getting sacked, even if I thought they were HORRIBLE. That's just not nice.

...Sleeping in my own bed for the first time in over a month. 

...An album called The Voyager by Jenny Lewis. I like it in a boy-do-I-relate-to-this sort of way. The songs describe one woman's experiences and regrets, but there is definitely an upbeat, nostalgic element to them. Favorite tracks: One of the Guys, She's Not Me, Late Bloomer, A New You. That's all pretty telling... This song is probably one of my favorites from her Rilo Kiley days (and her romper is so cute!)...

...Getting rid of stuff. This bedroom remodel has seen a few phases of purging and I'm sure more of my useless possessions will see a trash can or a thrift shop before I'm finished. I'm trying to make room in my life for the things I need and stop getting cornered in by the stuff I don't. 

Loathes

...The former gray paint I originally painted my bedroom. A gray called Quietude. How nice that sounds! It was supposed to be a medium/light shade, but it was barely discernible from the white I purchased for my ceiling and trim. All this after buying multiple samples. So we painted one wall and waited to see if it dried any darker. It didn't. But since the paint was non-returnable nor exchangeable, I decided to suck it up and just throw the stuff on the walls. Both cans. Maybe 2 coats would do the trick... 

2 coats and 48 hours later, the paint wasn't any grayer than when we'd started. I called it Inversion White, which is the dirtiest a white can get without being a gray. 

I cried a bit (it's a big bedroom and I was just so tired of it all) and then announced that I was going to buy more paint in a much darker shade. Which seemed to relieve the entire family. Though they initially reassured me the color was fine, they actually thought it was horrendous.

...The inversion... The actual outside-and-in-my-lungs inversion. 

...Carrie Underwood. Lately, and I'm not sure why, we've been listening to a country music station at work. It's not turned up very loud and I will usually have my own music in one ear, but there's this new Carrie Underwood song they keep playing. I couldn't really tell you how it goes, just that she shout/sings the word "SSSTTROOOOOONNNGGGEEERRRRR!!!" quite a lot. Carrie is lovely and her voice is flawless. Obnoxiously so. If you like music that is shiny and nice and usually has one volume and tonal quality, Carrie's your girl. 

...Carpal tunnel in my right wrist. An unexpected (and unpleasant) side-effect of over-exerting my right side with repeated attempts at painting a room that is approximately 22 x 13'. My left side's still fully operational for now!

...People who brag about things like never taking Ibuprofen or drinking soda. Like, right as someone else is ingesting them. I'm the kind of abomination that usually chases down a couple Advil with a swig of Diet Coke. 

...Loud Spotify ads. If I'm listening to a playlist of classical and instrumental music, maybe find ads that would correspond with that genre. And then cut the volume in half. 

...Pre-Relief Society Lesson anxiety. My last lesson, though! So there's a silver lining.

You Would Cry Too If It Happened To You

Have you time for a rant? Too bad. It's my birthday tomorrow and I'm playing the it's-my-party-and-I'll-cry-if-I-want-to card NOW.

I'm currently driven to distraction by the fact that I might not pass a class in which my instructor said my work was beyond that of even some of her advanced students. She did. She also asked if she could keep some of my work to show her future classes. Which I agreed to. She even thanked me once for knowing who Ladybird Johnson was. 

Surprisingly, I still love this teacher and her class. I show up, contribute to the lectures, and work on projects during appointed class time, even when most other students leave as soon as the lecture's over. My last project took me well over 20 hours to complete and now all that hard work might end up in the pooper due to an attendance policy that was not communicated in the class syllabus. The entire class felt sucker-punched when she announced the news about HOW our tardies and/or absences would affect our grades. Right now I have an A or better, but that could all change. "Don't worry - some of my best students have had to retake this course."

Uhhh... What about my assignments? What about all my work in class? WHAT ABOUT LADYBIRD JOHNSON??

We'll know on Friday when the final grades are posted... I've never prayed for a C in all my life. If those handful of tardy-but-only-by-a-few-minutes make the difference between passing and not passing or if the pothead that sat next to me who was ALWAYS on time but basically just occupied a chair before falling asleep - if he gets a passing grade and I don't, I will have no choice but to... but to... but to... 

Retake the class? Oh, please... Gimme that C!

Lauren's Open Letters...

Dear Pinterest,

Cool it with the near-pornographic health & fitness pins of women flexing their tanned, air-brushed bottoms in tiny panties. Do you want to motivate women or discourage them before they even know what your "booty-licious butt workout" is all about? Sounds gross. Looks grosser. 

Dear Rain,

More... MOOORRREEEEE!!!

Dear Important Public Figures Who Die And Are Suddenly Quoted By The Masses Online, 

I guess we're honoring your legacy by recalling all the beautiful things you said while you were still with us. Things we once pinned on Pinterest. Or scribbled on a Post-It we later placed on our bathroom mirrors as encouragement. (Maybe that was just me...) Yes, hopefully now we'll try a little harder to live by your wisdom... But let's also hope your words were attributed correctly on the internet to begin with.

Dear Cute Sandwich Guy,

Thanks for making my tasty turkey and cranberry sandwich on wheat. Though I'd still probably thank you even if you weren't cute, as attractiveness usually doesn't signify any guy's ability to make a tasty sandwich. But then this would be addressed to "Sandwich Guy" instead of "Cute Sandwich Guy," so... 

Dear Guy Running Next to Me On A Treadmill,

Uh-oh... You’ve jammed your machine a couple times now... I'm not sure hanging off the console like that is good running form. Looks a bit awkward. And you seem fit - I saw you walking upright when you got here! Just run with the treadmill, not against it. And if you can't, ease up on the incline and dial back the speed to a more comfortable pace. "It is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength." That's why you see me just chuggin' along. Let's chug together.  

Dear Ichiban Sushi,

Thank you for the extra eel sauce! You know you don't drizzle enough of that stuff on your Vegas Roll... Next time I think I'll just have a bowl of the eel sauce with my sushi as a side. 

Dear This,

I haven't heard of a Northern gentleman, but I do think an English gentleman trumps a Southern gentleman every time. I could drop a few names if you'd like...

Dear Girl Who Keeps Referring to Herself as a Solid 7,

I've heard you repeat the same dating stories a few times now. Stories in which you relate all the reasons why, on a scale of 1 to 10, you think you're a 7. Or how you've dated a bunch of zeros. As a Solid 3, I appreciate that you have better self-esteem than myself (unless this is really just an exercise in building confidence?) and yeah, I bet it is hard out there for a 7... But rating yourself and then gloating about it? I'm docking you a couple points. Which, I realize, would make me about a 1... Since I'm just sitting here complaining about you on the internet.  

Dear Roadkill Scattered All Over The Highway On My Way To Work,

You are one of the less pleasant signs of summer and you make me sad. Then after a few days, you make me sick. I often can't identify what you once were - probably something with a cute, furry face - but whatever your species, please save your little 4-legged selves and stay away from the road. Remember, that big loud thing with 18 wheels can move a lot faster than you and it doesn't care how cute you are.

Dear Adventure Time,

Like Spongebob Squarepants, you are funny, strange, and just a little bit perverted. Only slightly moreso.

Sincerely,

The Solid 3

P.S. Sometimes I hate everything I type (too snarky! too boring! too personal!), but then I consider the time I took to type it and the time it would take revising before I didn't hate it anymore... Aaaaannndd publish.

Nowhere to hide...

Just when I thought Let It Go had finally released my Facebook feed from its icy clutches, another video started making the rounds, this time featuring Jimmy Fallon (Blast his impish charm!), The Roots, and Idina Menzel herself. When you do come across the video (it's inevitable), don't scoff and roll your eyes as I did. You'll like it. And you might even play it multiple times... And sing along... badly...

P.S. If you're looking for the link, that's too bad. By now I've learned one doesn't simply find this song, it finds YOU. Just wait. 

P.P.S. Ana had some cute songs, why don't we start making covers of those? "Hang in there, Joan..."

Running Low

This was definitely a difficult week. My attitude certainly didn't improve anything, but sometimes you have to keep your head down and do what you can. And sometimes you must do it without slapping on a smile and pretending things are JUST. SO. GREAT.

Tuesday... A coworker (THE Coworker, rather) notified my supervisor that she would not be in because she wasn't feeling "quite herself." My snarky yet unspoken response was, "Well then who does she feel like?" quickly followed by, "When does she anticipate she'll start feeling more 'herself' again?" I know some mornings are harder than others, but even on my most un-Lauren of days it's still business-as-usual. Because that's life. 

Maybe I should be more understanding, but when your department is only a handful of people and one person constantly has ridiculous excuses for missing work, you begin to lose patience. So much patience.

There's more...

Wednesday... The Coworker left early for a doctor's appointment. She was going in for a blood test to see exactly what was wrong with her. I have my theories... Mostly I think it's just a raging case of hypochondria. Don't really know if that'll show up on a blood test, though.

Thursday... The Coworker was absent yet again and my supervisor explained that she'd received some "bad news" about her blood test. Such that both she and her husband were staying home from work as a result. But beyond that we didn't know a thing...

Well, I started feeling pretty awful at that point. What if she was diagnosed with a life-threatening illness? What if it was something painful and horrible? And here I was being impatient and just plain not-nice about the whole thing. She was going to die... I was a bad person and she was going to die. 

Later that morning, she notified our supervisor of her diagnosis. Finally we would know if the worst was true...

Her diagnosis - the news of which took a recovery time of 24 hours... A POTENTIAL WHEAT ALLERGY.

Patience depleted. 

Jack 'Em Up

Parts of a conversation I overheard today…

…My dad really loves Elvis. Like, loves him… My mom loves oldies so any time we were in the car we’d listen to 94.1… My stepdad listened to a lot of Metallica… So we were very well-rounded with the music we listened to growing up… I will, like, sometimes listen to 90s music, but not a lot cuz most of it’s AWFUL… If anyone asks me about modern music, I’m just like, ‘What is that crap?’… I really like (insert name of some band I have never heard of)… Here, this is my favorite… (hands over earphones to friend)… It’s called 'Jack ‘Em Up'… It’s about trucks… The music video has all of these really cool trucks… I know, right?? And usually I hate rap music…

Despite my love for 90s power ballads, I pride myself on having pretty okay taste in music - one of many delusions, I know - so my curiosity got the better of me. I tracked down the music video (<<< click this) for this song... It's performed by the Jawga Boyz featuring someone called Pastor Troy... Just in case any other well-rounded music listeners out there were looking to diversify your music libraries. 

...I'll stick with the modern crap, I think. 

Why do I hate this book??

As part of my 2013 effort to read more, I have burned through quite a few books. (Not literally... That's a no-no...) I've read 6 books so far and I'm working on a 7th...

TA-DA! So right now I am reading Edenbrooke by Julianne Donaldson. If you want to see a really terrible trailer for the book, click here. What kind of accent is that?? Anyway, I'm about 70 pages in (185 more to go!) and if I'm being completely honest, I want to throw this book at the author's face. (I was actually reading a few minutes ago, but was so irritated I had to stop.) It came so highly recommended and the reviews on Goodreads and Amazon were pretty glowing - the word AMAZING was thrown around a lot. But I cannot (at this early juncture) understand WHY. 

So far the book has been full of obnoxious flirting, "trembling" and "quivering" lips,  excessive blushing (I'm blushing at the amount of blushing in this book), "warm" and "searching" looks, fluttering nerves, and awkward dialogue that doesn't fit the time period. OH! And the romantic cliches... (rolls eyes)... The heroine, Marianne, observing a painting: "It's beautiful." The hero, Philip, observing Marianne observing the painting: "That was precisely what I was thinking." Or Marianne, talking to Philip about the horse she's riding: "A gentle mare would have never been enough to keep up with you." Philip, gazing at Marianne and smiling: "You are absolutely right." Duh, Marianne... You ARE the painting. You ARE the spirited mare. 

Throughout the first-person narrative (told from Marianne's perspective), there are many exclamations about Philip being a (insert adjective similar to "insufferable" here) man! Incorrigible... Arrogant... Presumptuous... Deceitful... Odious... Wicked... Not very original, but there they are. All of them.

So yeah... The story, the characters - no real substance. And it just doesn't feel true enough to the time period it's trying to represent. It's too wordy; too descriptive. I'm restructuring some of the dialogue in my head as I read, trying to think of how it may have actually sounded "back then." And what is a reticule?? Don't throw in random, antiquated names for things in an attempt to make the story sound authentic! I'm pretty sure Jane Austen would have just called it a purse... 

So maybe that's my problem. Maybe all I want is Jane Austen and the like. Maybe all I want are those perfect characters and the authenticity of the eras portrayed in their stories... Like I'd know... But people who profess to love Austen also say they love Edenbrooke. So why can't I stand it?? I'm really not a cynic... I'm a romantic!  I really am.

SO... for those of you who have read this book, please tell me why I should finish it. Or why I really should just throw it at Julianne Donaldson's face. Maybe it gets better... But maybe it gets worse... Should I keep trying to imagine the hero as James McAvoy? Is there better Regency-inspired fiction out there that isn't already written by its contemporaries? 

Or should I just try to enjoy this book for what it is? 

Whatever it is. 

**EDIT: Jane Austen has used the term reticule. I stand corrected. But I still dislike this book.**

Like and Loathe

We have many reasons for getting out of bed in the morning. Work, school, trips to the bathroom, the sound of a cat meowing outside your window... For me, I have days where it's easier to think of reasons to stay put. Reasons like being tired, or feeling sick, or not having anything cute to wear... This morning my sole reason for waking up was a bad dream I'd had during the night. It was the kind of dream that keeps you from falling back to sleep for fear of finding yourself back in the thick of the dream. I did not want to close my eyes and pick up where this dream left off, so instead I bounced out of bed and got an early start on my day. But to no avail. The dream did its damage and has followed me around all day like a gloomy little rain cloud. If it hadn't been for this dream, I would probably be in bed still. Stupid, creepy dream.

This is officially my last week with my current employer. I'm excited for the changes coming next week and hope I will be ready for whatever challenges they present. I'm sure there will be more entries written on this topic.

And now, let's explore a few items that have found their way onto Lauren's Like/Loathe list. 

Lately Lauren Likes...

... Sweet potatoes. I bought some at the store last night and cooked them up for dinner. I blame Crown Burger's Sweet Potato Fries for my cravings. I blame them for so many things.

... Cobb Salads from Boston Deli. Soon I won't have the luxury of a Boston Deli less than a block away from work. That is sad.

... Psych: Season 6. My sister and I watched the season finale last night and, suffice it to say, we are very anxious for season 7. Seasons that end with someone getting SHOT in the last episode often have that affect on a viewing audience. I love this show. It never gets old. 

... The Avengers. And it hasn't even been released yet! May 4th... I've decided I will like it no matter what.  

... Rainy days. Gloomy, dreary, soggy, rainy days. 

... "Simple Song" by The Shins

Lately Lauren Loathes...

... People who can't (or won't) park their cars correctly. Or they make up parking spots when a real spot lies a mere 10 feet away. 

... Parking lots in general.

... "Drive-By" by Train. This song needs to die... in a drive-by. See what I did there? Heh-heh...

... Dropping things on the floor and having to pick them up. I don't know why, but lately I've been dropping just about everything. It's starting to bug me.

... The fact my dad finished off what remained of a really (REALLY) yummy chicken salad I made myself for dinner last night. I was looking forward to my leftovers, but my dad had other plans.  

Lauren: (opens fridge) "HEY!... Who ate my chicken salad?" 

Silence from the next room. Still searching fridge. 

Lauren: "Mom? Dad?" 

Dad: (followed by another long silence) "Your mother did!" 

Mom: (scoffs) "Sounds like your Dad did!" 

Lauren: (whiningly) "You suuuuuuuuck..."

So I cooked up more sweet potatoes instead. Happy ending! And look! I liked one more thing than I loathed.

Did you miss me? No? Too bad!

Well, I'm home. Not too happy about it, but at least I've reunited with my bed! You know that Ikea commercial where a couple, upon returning from vacation, faceplant into their bed and in muffled voices proclaim their undying love for their mattress? That'd be me. But enough about that.

Happy to be on vacation!

I Always... 

...Use my turn signal. When I'm supposed to, I mean... It's not like I'm driving down some lonely stretch of highway going 85 mph with my blinkers flashing for no reason...

...Take something to help me to relax before a flight. Something legal, that is. And I always order a Ginger Ale....

...Apply at least a little mascara, cover-up, and lip gloss/chapstick before going out. If I'm only going out for a walk or on a quick errand, I may just throw on some sunglasses and lip gloss. Even this much does wonders for my face. And you don't want to ever see this mug in the buff....

...Crave a cold glass of milk whenever I eat... ? Cookies? No. Pancakes? No. Spicy food? No. Starbursts?

YES.

I don't know, there's just something about those fruity flavors followed by a generous guzzle of some refreshing 1% milk...

...Brush my teeth in the marnin'... After I've eaten my breakfast, that is. No amount of gum can make up for how fuzzy my teeth feel when I don't brush them. It would be like forgetting to put on pants. 

I Sometimes...

...Forget to brush my teeth before I go to bed. In this scenario I usually will pop in a piece of gum so I can chew it while I read or play sudoku or listen to music, etc. You know, under the bogus assumption that the gum is doing anything remotely helpful to clean my teeth. But then if I forget to take it out before falling asleep, I wake up the next morning with partially disintegrated, flavorless gum in my gullet. I really need to remember to brush my teeth at bedtime more often...

...When I visit the seaside or a more tropical clime, my skin turns into buttah. "My skin is like buttah!" But only if I'm there long enough for the climate to work it's magic. Swimming in the salty ocean, absorbing the sea air - it smoothes my poor ol' Utah skin, all dry and cracked from our desert winters. I've been home from my vacation less than 48 hours and I can already feel the moisture being sucked back out...

...I think the phrase "Faith in God includes Faith in His timing" (Neal A. Maxwell, "Lest Ye Be Wearied and Faint in Your Minds," April 1991 General Conference) has become the mantra of single women Church-wide. I know it applies to any blessing we're required to wait for both patiently and long-sufferingly (been there, done that), but I've never heard it used in any other context quite as many times as I've heard it used by husband-hungry single sistahs. I don't quite know how I feel about this... Then again, maybe I just struggle with waiting for stuff.

(Read this talk. It's much more wonderful than this phrase alone...)

...Have random hiccups. They’re big, loud, sometimes painful, and occur only once. I think my body sometimes conserves a bunch of tiny, baby hiccups and releases them into one gargantuan HICCUP! This phenomenon was first observed among my group of high school friends. You never knew when it would strike or who the victim would be… until it was too late. 

...I can be one Sad Panda. Oh well. Pandas are cute. 

...Listen to the one, ONE Nickelback song I have on my iPod. Namely “Hero.” (Scoff!) Hear me out - it’s from the original Spiderman soundtrack, right? And, you know, it’s not all bad. I think they may have even played it on X96 and 101.9 The End (once upon a time), which might not mean much to you depending on your musical sensibilities. And it’s not like I go out of my way to listen to it. All I’m saying is if my iPod’s on shuffle and that particular song comes on, I may not… always… change it. 

I Never...

...Listen to Sounds of the Sabbath on 106.5 or Soft Sunday Sounds on 100.3. While I think the MoTab is beyond magnificent and will listen to them on any given day of the week, there are few other LDS artists I enjoy listening to. Those I do like are already on a Sunday Mix on the old iPod. I’m just gonna say it: Some of the “LDS” or “Christian” music they play on Sounds of the Sabbath is so bad, it actually has an adverse effect on my Sunday comings and goings. I can find more spiritual profundity in some of Coldplay’s music (and the like) over some of the more saccharine songs they play on these stations. So if it’s a matter of needing a soundtrack for my Sabbath, I won’t look any further than my own Hymnbook or iTunes library. But thanks anyway, Steven Kapp Perry! 

...Watch The Bachelor. I've seen episodes in passing, but have been so irritated by what I've seen that I've never taken a second look. Okay, so maybe I did... But only in the sense that one can't help but take a second look at a mangled car wreck! And it's not because I'm not a romantic or don't enjoy the occasional "reality" show. I am a romantic. Sometimes a hopeless one, at that. I just don't see anything remotely romantic, genuine, or appealing about watching a show where one guy/girl gets to weed and grope his/her way through a crop of "hotties" to find his/her (pauses to convulse) ONE true love??? (No such thing, not even in real life...) And people LOVE it! I realize viewers range from the... 

Oh-my-gosh-this-is-just-so-hysterically-ridicuous-I-can't-look-away bunch... 

to the

If-Ashley-doesn't-get-that-final-rose-it-will-break-my-heart-and-I-will-never-be-happy-again bunch... 

Because you know there's always one or two Ashley's in there... 

But Lauren, if you avoid the show at all costs, why are you so familiar with its details?  

Because even I can't ignore the glitzy headlines of those Hollywood rag mags while standing in line at the grocery store... I've done my research. 

But Lauren, what if I already know all this and still watch the show anyway?  

Well, that's a personal choice and that's just fine! To each his own. Just don't invite me to your Final Rose Ceremony themed season finale party. Unless it's catered. 

Where was I? ... 

Oh, yes!... I never crave a warm glass of milk. Under any circumstances. Even thinking about it makes my mouth feel all filmy and gross. I can just imagine someone making gross, lip-smacking mouth noises after taking a swig of warm, frothy, partially congealed milk... Ack! The very thought... 

Anyway...

Thus concludes my triumphant return to the blog. You thought I'd bore you all with details about my trip, didn't you? But no. Not tonight, anyway. Looking back too prematurely would only make being home that much more of a drag. 

And it's already a major drag.  

Hmph!

Sometimes I wish I had a top-secret anonymous blog where I could just write what I want. Where I could whine and complain and express my frustration without fear of backlash. Mwa-ha-ha-ha... Of course, I’d still want people to read it because that’s the point of being a passive-aggressive blogger… I will avoid outright conflict at all costs, but I’ll voice my outrage elsewhere! A journal might be a better outlet...

There are times I’ve started writing a post referring to a specific encounter I had with something or someone, only to stop and censor myself. Such posts usually never get published because even once I’ve censored myself and have tried to make the details as vague as can be, I’m just not comfortable posting it. I start to feel blogger’s remorse. “So this one time there was this so-and-so who did such-and-such that made me really you-know-what!” Who wants to read that? 

Another unfortunate symptom of being overly vague is that you may end up making some innocent reader feel implicated. Or perhaps you failed miserably at being vague and the villain of your tale ends up reading an entry and realizes just who it's all about. Either way - innocent or not, deserving or not - it's not very nice... So I will continue to censor myself when necessary and avoid It’s just that sometimes as I’m typing up all my jumbled and random thoughts, my fingers run away from me.

I bring this up because there is a little something that has been driving me absolutely bonkers lately. And while I’d like to write all about it here (my fingers are just itching to do so), I won’t. No sir. There are things in life which we must endure by simply grinning (or grimacing) and bearing it… in silence.  And so today I will remain silent. 

Good News/Bad News

The Good… I officially applied to SLCC in hopes of starting classes in the Fall. I’ll be pursuing an associates in (gulp!) Illustration.

The Bad… I am pretty terrified. Like, dig-a-hole-in-my-backyard-and-bury-myself-in-it terrified. Not because I’m worrying about being accepted (because hello, it’s SLCC), but because I’ll be taking my first step towards something  that has the potential to either make or break me. Or just prove to be a huge waste of time. Either way, it’s going to be a challenge… whimper...

The Good… I went to bed at a fairly reasonable hour last night. I didn’t get overly distracted by Pinterest or Facebook.

The Bad… My dreams were pretty disturbing. I was half in and out of a deep sleep for most of the night and I woke up feeling absolutely terrible, physically and emotionally. Here’s to what will hopefully be a dreamless sleep tonight.

The Good… Michael’s consistently writing us here back home! Things have been pretty good for him out in Missouri and his testimony has grown so much.

The Bad… Well, not SO bad. He’s had a few discouraging days, but he’s bearing them well. If you’d like to write him, let me know! In true missionary fashion, he thrives on letters from home.

The Good… Crown Burger for lunch!

The Bad… Ughhhh… Crown Burger for lunch…

The Good... Saw Beauty and the Beast in 3D!

The Bad... Only this time around I wasn't a starry-eyed, dream-filled 6-year-old, but a wistful and nostalgic 26-year-old. Who still relies too heavily on the fantasy of Disney movies, apparently. 

The Good… “Yay! I’m a llama again!”

The Bad… “Wait…”

See? Now wasn't that pleasant?

The Things I Do...

Things I do that I hope that other people do too...

• Getting a box for your leftovers at a restaurant and then eating them as soon as you get home. Even though it may be after midnight. “I couldn’t eat another bite. Really... In front of you lot, that is.”

• Not having anywhere to put the stale piece of gum you’ve been chewing for 5 hours and promptly spitting it out on the street.

• Shutting your closet door before getting into bed.

• NOT shutting the bathroom door if you know you’re home alone. This is bound to backfire.

• Trying to make only one trip from your car to your front door after arriving home with bags and bags of groceries. And 4 gallons of milk.

• Laughing at the worst possible moments purely because you know you shouldn’t. This usually hits in church or during a really dramatic moment in a movie. It’s really bad if you’re the only one laughing.

• Losing count of how many times you’ve worn the same pair of jeans before you finally wash them.

• Coughing loudly or making some other noise to cover up the sound of your stomach growling like a Balrog. This never works very effectively and you just end up drawing more attention to yourself.

• Putting the carton of milk back in the fridge even though you’ve just emptied it. I don’t do this one on purpose, just out of habit. 1) Pour milk 2) Put milk back in fridge.

• Screening someone’s call as they’re looking right at you from across the street… I did this once and still feel terrible. Terrrrrrible.

• Being put on the spot (standing up in front of a room full of people, seeing someone you really like, receiving a compliment) and bursting into flames. Not literally, but feeling a full body blush creep up your back, your neck, and into your scalp.

• Wearing nylons or tights so you don’t have to shave your legs.

• Making a batch of brownies and ending up sitting in front of the TV eating straight out of the bowl. I always use the excuse that I’m “waiting for the oven to heat up.” 10 minutes later, I have only half a batch of brownies left.

• Seeing someone you know in the grocery store and going completely out of your way to avoid them, only to have them catch you off guard down one of the more embarrassing aisles where they keep acne-wash, cat food, feminine hygiene, or anti-diarrheal medication. Joy.

• Knowing you have only seconds to use the bathroom before you completely “mess” yourself and finding out there’s a line or that it’s out of order. AHHHH!! I know… disgusting.

• Sucking in your gut while checking yourself out in a mirror (thinking you’re hot stuff) then later unexpectedly catching your reflection in a window or something and realizing that your gut is hanging out all over the place. Oh, and that you have 18 chins.

• Hearing one of your favorite songs for the first time on the radio and knowing you only have a week before you never want to hear it again.

• Watching that commercial with Sarah McLachlan about animal cruelty and feeling like you've just received the worst news of your entire life. My mom and I saw it for the first time shortly after our cat Risky disappeared. We cried.

• Meeting the man of your dreams, and then meeting his beautiful wife.

(That last one isn't mine)

Hip to be Square?

You know what kinda bugs me? "Lauren, is there anything that DOESN'T bug you?" Well... yes. I know it seems like I only get on here to snark and rant about my latest irrational  irritation, but it makes life more interesting for me. And then you, dear reader, can rest assured in the knowledge that I am a horrible person, thereby making yourselves feel better in comparison. So really I'm doing you a favor. 

Where was I? Ah, yes... The latest "thing" to bug me. I've noticed something that's been running rampant in our society lately - a wave sweeping through our ever-changing culture. I call this recent wave "Nerd Chic." If you are part of this movement, you have undoubtedly boasted to someone about how nerdy you think you are. I have participated in conversations with individuals about books/movies/tv shows/music/politics where the dialogue inevitably concluded with, "...I know, I'm such a nerd." Bah! Are you really? When did nerdiness become so in vogue? Did it start with Napoleon Dynamite? When did we suddenly feel the need to broadcast how nerdy we think we are when really, there's a big difference from being a nerd and having an  interest in something? It's become a sort of bragging right. I happen to enjoy period romances by Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters, but that does not necessarily make me a nerd. It makes me well-read and awesome (haha... kidding), but I'm not about to dub myself Lady Nerd because I think it's super cool or that it sets me apart from your average meat-head or ditz. 

The term itself always carried a negative connotation, right? Think back to your 80s high school flicks. They usually followed the same formula - Athlete, Brain, Princess, etc... If you were the Brain, you were despised... Your life was made miserable by anyone who caught a whiff of your nerdiness... If you were ever called a nerd by someone else, you probably hated it. So why, in the words of Hewey Lewis, is it now "hip to be a square?" Perhaps we've just learned to embrace it, emerging from the nerd underworld and letting our freak flags fly. After years of oppression and isolation we can proudly stand together and hold our heads high! The rights of the nerd have been heard!  "My name is Lauren Donna Waters, and I... am a NERD."

But what is a nerd? According to Wikipedia...

Nerd is a term that refers to an intelligent but single-minded person obsessed with a nonsocial hobby or pursuit. Nerds are generally considered to be awkward, shy and/or unattractive by most. Thus, a nerd is often excluded from physical activity and considered a loner by others, or will tend to associate with a small group of like-minded people.

Soooo... It's cool to be nonsocial, single-minded, awkward, unattractive, shy, AND a loner? Look at the latest fashion trends... From large frame glasses to oxfords, it's chic to be a geek. Know what? I think if you are a true nerd, you just do what you do. You march to the beat of your own out-of-rhythm drum... You are content in the oblivion of your dorkiness... You don't have some inborn need to draw attention to yourself or your intelligence. If the above is true, you actually probably prefer to remain somewhat anonymous in your brainy endeavors. Not to offend you self-proclaimed nerds out there, but I think the most endearing nerd is the one who has no idea of how much of a nerd they are. Any proclamation of "...I know, I'm such a nerd" seems like an effort to align ourselves with a trend and to impress others. Nowadays nerd equals hip, but by its very definition a nerd is the culmination of everything NON-hip and NON-cool. Otherwise you cease to be a nerd! Oh, the irony!

So the next time you think you're a nerd purely because you enjoy such television shows as The Big Bang Theory or because you tried reading a difficult book once and "really liked it" OR because you went out of your way to look nerdy or intellectual, think again. Because chances are, you are not. Or maybe you are. Am I a nerd? Well, I don't know. Like anyone, I likes what I likes! 

Yup, nerd is the new black. We all want to be one and THAT is the ultimate revenge of the nerds.