I started a new blog, The Tennessee Years. Here's the first post!

The Tennessee Years: Welcome


Xo,
Lauren

Run Buddha Run!

It's a well-known fact that people love to stand on the streets of San Francisco and pass pamphlets and advertisements out to those of us innocently trying to actually use the sidewalk to get from one place to another (crazy notion, I know). As many who've come before me, I've learned the best way to avoid this this little dance is to make sure the headphones are in and eye contact is not made. The two, very simple acts have served me well during my 4+ years in the city... until yesterday, but you knew that was coming right?

I was on my way to the post office (what happened once I got there is a story for a different day) minding my own business and invoking my avoidance method of choice. However as I continued on my way, I could see a Buddhist monk holding little papers in his hand, sharing a smile with all who passed. A monk? Really? I felt my determined city strut begin to waver. You can't just ignore a monk. I mean I didn't have to talk to him, but surely a smile wouldn't cost me anything. I still had my headphone line of defense, so I knew I didn't have to worry about an attempted conversion ;)

As I neared the man, I knew he had me in his sights. I knew this because he ran right up to me, almost blocking my path. I could now see it was a pile of Buddha stickers he was holding in his hand. The headphones stayed in, so all I saw was him smile and his lips mouthing the word,"hello." He then placed a sticker in my hand. I smiled back, my heart now warming to the fact that I didn't just walk by this kind man without acknowledging him. I'm not Buddhist but I mean who doesn't want a Buddha sticker and why wouldn't I show this man kindness by graciously accepting his gift? I thanked him for the sticker motioned I was in a hurry and continued quickly on my way.

I got only as far as the corner when I heard something like shouting behind me. The earphones came out and I turned around in time to see the Buddhist monk half walking half running down the sidewalk to catch up to me, arms flailing, all the while shouting "Donation, donation!" I had a sneaking suspicion that "hello" and "donation" were the only two English words he knew. Darnit! I was so close. He's probably not even a real monk, I thought. Alas, I smiled and said "I'm sorry I don't have any cash" (which this time, was the truth) and attempted to go on my way, all the while hoping that no one had just seen me get chased down the street by a Buddhist monk.

Before I could turn all the way around, however, said Buddhist monk ripped the Buddha sticker out of my hand, gave me the evil eye, and walked away. I was left standing in the middle of the sidewalk dumbstruck hoping and praying that no one just saw what probably looked a Buddhist monk chasing down the girl who just tried to steal from him.

I walked away from this experience with two thoughts. The first: my headphone/no eye contact method clearly needs tweaking. The second: it's good I don't believe in karma because who knows what that monk has in mind for the girl who tried to steal his Buddha sticker...

Xo,
Lauren

To Butt Dial or Not to Butt Dial...

Wouldn't it be nice if we actually had the option? But no, that's not how butt dialing works. It's completely out of our control. To date, I've had your basic every day interaction with butt dialing. The most traumatic experience I had was back in college (by that, I mean the first go around at college, since technically I'm still in college).

Anywho, this was about five years ago back on the East coast. I was down the hall in my friends' dorm. A bunch of us we're hanging out. I look down at my phone and realize it was calling my grandparents, no it was in the middle of a full on 3 minute conversation with them. No biggie right? Except that it was 2 am. Biggie!

My immediate reaction was to hit end and hit it again and again. Then I prayed. I prayed they hadn't heard the phone or that the connection didn't really go through or that maybe someone somewhere else in the world had butt dialed them at the same time and the calls cancelled each other out. God answered with D, none of the above (which He sometimes does as He has the right to). The next thing I know, my phone is ringing. Yup, they're calling me back. Crap.

Now, my grandparents are pretty cool people and I knew this incident wouldn't threaten their love for me, however I did fear for my likability numbers. My call to them had gone on for over a minute, which meant that likely, on their end, the phone rang, waking them from a peaceful slumber, forcing one of them to get out of bed to answer the phone, and scaring them half to death when they could hear me on the other end but I wasn't answering their “hello, hello's.”

I don’t particularly remember what happened after I answered, but five years later they still talk to me so I probably didn’t need to get as stressed out over the whole thing as I did.  In the years since, myself and my cousins are often at the other end of my grandfather’s butt dials, but that's another story for another day ;)

There have been several over the years, my favorite happened last year. I pocket dialed my cousin while he was in Florida. I was here in California and it was before midnight, meaning 3am for him. I had just concluded a probably somewhat inappropriate conversation with my friend and ended it by telling  her to “chug chug chug” her beer. I then looked down at my phone, realized I’d been on with my cousin for a good solid minute and fifty seconds, and thought, "wellll, he’s going to have an interesting voicemail when he wakes up."

So where am I going with all this? Well this morning, I received a phone call, at 4:30 A.M. There I was, fast asleep, in my cozy comfortable bed, dreaming of Blake Shelton taking off his... well dreaming, and all of a sudden Blake’s phone started ringing. Nope, dream ruined, it was my phone, and it was still dark out. My immediate thought was somebody died. My cell phone is off, my parents couldn't get me on it, so they're calling me on my apartment phone to tell me someone died. Crap.

I got out of bed and walked ALL the way to the other side of my apartment. (It’s not that far) I looked at the caller I.D. and temporarily relaxed because I knew I didn't have any Jewish relatives. I mean none that I currently know of. So in the process of 4 seconds, I decided whoever is on the end of this phone call is going to get it. It's 4:30 am you stupid solicitors. Usually they get the polite, “thanks but I'm not interested” Lauren. Today, they were not going to get that Lauren.

So I answer the phone and low and behold it was a......

Yup, a baby. A real life goo goo gagaing baby. I heard buttons get pushed, drooly giggles, and then, who I assumed to be, the parents react rather quickly when they realized their baby was playing with the telephone. They, of course, promptly hung up on me.

Immediately I added “get butt dialed by a baby” to my bucket list and then crossed it off. That counts right? I mean I’m sure if I had thought it up first it definitely would have been something I wanted to have happen. However, it did inspire ANOTHER addition to the list: Use my future baby to prank call people.

Xo,
Lauren

A Letter to My Brother...

Dearest James, 

I went to sleep last night with the intention of posting a quote or lyrics to a song this morning to commemorate all that today is, but I woke up needing to say more. Sometimes I don’t think my heart can take missing you anymore than it already does. Then another year goes by and it does just that. Today marks an unbelievable seven years since life without you began.  That night is ingrained in my mind. It was so odd to be leaving the hospital without you. Mom, Dad, Nora, Brendan, and I piled in the car in the middle of the night and drove home. I don’t remember much of the car ride, but I remember sleeping on the couch that night with your Canisius blanket. I think I thought I’d wake up and discover it had all been a dream and you’d want your blanket back. 

If I’m completely honest, it’s not February 26th that “does me in” every year. It’s the day before. It was the morning before you died that I got the phone call from mom. I was sitting in the cafe at The Met in NYC. I must have had my phone on silent because I remember looking down and having a lot of missed calls from Mom. I thought it was odd because she knew I was away on a school trip, but I wasn’t worried until I heard her voicemail.  She had just said to call her, but something in her voice was off. To this day it's still a little difficult to answer calls from home at odd hours.

I remember at the time wanting to pretend I hadn’t seen the calls or heard the voicemail yet and just go on with my day.  It’s crazy, but it’s as if I knew the minute that phone call went through to home, I would be hearing things I wasn’t ready to hear. I learned later Mom and Dad were very adamant about not telling me over the phone what everyone at home now knew… you were dying. What she did tell me was that you weren’t doing well and that I might want to come home. She gave me the option of finishing my trip and returning to Rochester the next day where someone would come pick me up at school or having Marmee and Da, pick me up at the airport later that day on their way home from Florida. 

Our family has an amazing capacity for subtext in a conversation. My decision was a heart-wrenching but easy one. I would get home as soon as possible. I hung up the phone and slowly told my friends what was happening, and that I needed to go back to the hotel and pack my things. They were amazing in that moment and perhaps that’s the very reason why God put them in my life in that place at that time. They walked me back to the hotel, the entire time assuring me that it would be okay and that my Mom was probably just being cautious and maybe even wanted me home to cheer you up.

They didn’t know what I knew. There was no way Mom would have called me with this news  if something wasn’t really wrong. After I finished packing, I still had some time before the car was supposed to pick me up. It was the first of a few times I’d find myself waiting that day. If ever there was a moment I wanted to blink and be somewhere else as quickly as possible, that was one of them. Everything took forever that day. In the car on the way to the airport I remember I kept looking out the window trying to distract myself then at the driver wondering if he knew that he was driving someone who’s entire world was about to turn upside down?

I finally arrived at the airport. More waiting. Eventually I ended up on the plane with Marmee and Da heading back to Buffalo. I think there was small talk… an effort on all our parts to pretend like everything was going to be okay. For the most part we rode in silence. It’s a difficult thing to carry on a conversation when your stomach is in your throat.

When we landed in Buffalo it was dark. A very visible reminder of how much time had passed since I talked to Mom that morning… too much time. Waiting at the doorway into the airport was Uncle John and then I slowly recognized Father Sibby was with him.  My immediate (and uncensored) thought was “oh shit, we’re too late.” Appropriate or not, we laugh about it now because we know you would too. Probably not the best idea to send the priest along when you know you’re on your way to someone’s death bed. The implication was that you didn’t need him anymore and that we would. The entire way to the hospital I kept thinking he was waiting for the appropriate time to break the news that we’d missed our chance to say goodbye. Thank God, he really was just along for the ride to help in any way he could.

I don’t know if you know this, but when someone in a hospital is dying they kind of wave the whole maximum number of visitors thing. That was evident as I turned down the hall towards your room. Our entire family was there, our friends were there, friends of yours I didn’t even know at the time… it was a short hallway full of a lot of people, appropriately reflective of your life.  Things you never thought you’d be able to handle become abundantly more bearable when the ones you love most in this world are surrounding you.

The moment I sat next to you in the hospital bed, I knew it wasn’t that I had been worried I wouldn’t get the chance to say goodbye, but that I wasn’t going to hear you say goodbye to me. You were already slipping away from us and in that moment I was just grateful to be holding your hand. I was grateful to God for getting me home in time. I didn’t know then what I know now to be true. God’s heart was breaking too. 

There’s a lot of people in this world that don’t understand a God who could let bad things happen to good people. My prayer is that someday they’ll see the truth. God made everything in this world good and pure. People are the ones that screwed it up.  God could have abandoned us, but instead He sent Jesus. He so very clearly has a plan for each one of us. God blessed us with seventeen years together, James and I'm so grateful for everyone of them. 

I feel blessed that I made it home in time to hold your hand, even if it was for a few hours. I even feel blessed that for the previous two years before you died that we knew you were sick. No one of course ever thought you wouldn’t make it through, but it gave us the opportunity to talk about things that we might never have otherwise. We appreciated every moment. Even game nights, something so simple, became something so cherished. 

In the days leading up to and the day of your funeral it became clear how loved you were by so many and how many lives you touched by just being you. People lined the walls at your funeral to not only have the chance to say goodbye, but to also celebrate you and everything you were for so many people. At 17 years old, you had friends from age four to eighty-four. The capacity you had to love and be there for others still amazes me. Not because I didn’t think you capable of it, but because it was so effortless for you. Colin is a name that often comes to mind, the 4-year-old little boy down the hall from you in the hospital who often cried out because no one was there to comfort him. I have this vivid memory of you calling me at school. I was sitting at my desk listening to you on the phone telling me that it "broke your heart" to see him alone so often. His father was working trying to pay medical bills and his mother just never seemed able to be there with him. This horrible thing was happening to you and your heart was breaking for someone else. You became his coloring buddy. When Colin died shortly after you, all I could think of was that conversation we'd had and that your heart no longer had to break for him. I'm sure by now you've made a little golfer out of him. 

There’s so many things to miss about you, but do you believe that sometimes I even miss arguing with you? You were and still are the only one who could call me out who I would always eventually admit I was wrong to. I think once in a while I could still use some of that and I’m sure Dad, Mom, Nora, and Brendan would agree ;) 

You were interviewed in the newspaper about a year after you were diagnosed. The headline of the article was, “Leukemia Just a Mogul on the Slope For Teenager.” That did seem to be all it was for you. I can’t tell you how many times people would be shocked to hear you were out any given afternoon playing nine holes of golf… after a morning of chemo treatments. Of course, no one, including you, knew this at the time, but looking back, you were making every moment count. There were other days.... the days you were to sick to get out of bed. We watched you endure a lot of those, but almost always without a word of complaint.

In that same article you talked about Canisius. Oh how you loved being a part of that school. It was so important to you to keep up with your classes and you did everything possible to do just that. In fact, I'm pretty sure you had a better GPA than I did!  You told the reporter how much everyone at school was supporting you through everything along with your family and friends and of course your “ski and golf buddy, David.” Who, by the way, is getting married! (Side note: you’d love Christina, who has come to know you through all of our stories and pictures over the years.) I hope, on their wedding day, you’ll have a window from Heaven to look through like I know you’ve had for so many days in the past seven years. 

It’s hard to think about the amount of life we’ve experienced without you. Brendan following your footsteps through Canisius, then forging his own path at NU, Nora graduating from Miami and volunteering as an EMT, and me living in California finishing up film school (what?!). Nora and Kevin just celebrated their one year anniversary. It’s pretty surreal that all these years later one of your closest friends is dating Nora. I think we’re all pretty convinced you had a hand in that :) I know wherever we are and whatever we’re doing, Dad, Mom, Nora, Brendan, and I carry you with us through our days. 

It’s crazy to see all the cousins growing up, going to college, and spread through out different states. It’s hard to think about the younger new members of our family that will only know you by our stories and memories, but everyone will see to it that they will.

Days like today make it easy to drift into thinking about things that could have been. I often wonder what it would be like to know the older version of you.  Where would you have gone to college? What would you have done for a living? Who would you have married? How many children would you have? What kind of uncle would you have been? Some things are harder to think about than others… like the toast you would have made at Brendan’s wedding and the advice you would have given him as he grew up. He’s been blessed to have our cousins and good friends, but no one can quite replace a brother. He misses you so very deeply and I think my heart aches for him the most.

It’s these thoughts that make me long for Heaven in the worst way. I used to think of time going by as counting the days and years since I’ve seen you, but now I prefer to think of it as a countdown until I see you again. Life on earth is so fleeting and knowing that makes each moment more precious than the last. You taught me so much along the way, especially to make the moments count. I’m often guilty of forgetting this, but God sends me reminders when I need them.

I miss you James. I miss you more than I thought it possible to miss someone. I miss my brother, but more than that, I miss my friend. I miss hearing you tell me about your day and I miss you listening as I told you about mine. I wish more than anything that I could somehow mail you a physical copy of this letter and even more than that I wish I could get a reply.

God willing, we all have many years on this side of Heaven before we’re reunited. This year I will spend today like I always have and always will. I will spend it celebrating you, your life, and especially the anniversary of the day you met Jesus. I can't even begin to imagine what that moment was like for you because I know it is beyond anything we ever possibly could imagine. 

I love and miss you beyond what words could possibly convey (despite having just written A LOT about exactly that ;)

Sending hugs to Heaven today and every day.

All my love, 

Lauren

The Light of the World is Still Here!

Hope you all had an amazing Christmas! I felt so blessed to be able to spend Jesus' Birthday (& Birthday Eve) with my wonderful family.  The longer I spend living on the other side of the country from them, the more I appreciate these precious times we spend together.  There is no better way to spend the birth of our Lord and Savior than with the ones you love most in the world.  I feel like these kinds of perfect moments filled with warmth, joy, and love are little glimpses given to us by God to give as a tiny inkling as to what Heaven will be like someday.

There were several times through out the past couple days I caught myself looking around soaking in every detail.  I know all too well that nothing stays the same forever, our time on earth is short, and people sitting at the table with you this year, could be gone from this world in a heartbeat.  I thought a lot about my brother this year. It is almost unfathomable that this is our 7th Christmas without him. I like to think he was looking in on us over the last couple days, seeing how much he's missed, and knowing we'll be with him again one day.

That's what I was most grateful for this year (and every year).  More than presents, more than the lovingly prepared food on the dinner table, more than making sure every last detail is in place for your Christmas party, Christmas is about celebrating Jesus coming into the world to take on our sin so that it would be possible for us to spend eternity with Him. Which of course brings me to my main point :)

I am so guilty of feeling the let down, after Christmas. The radio goes back to the "regular stuff," lights and decorations come down, the cheer felt around world seems to slowly fade away into the abyss and people are ready for summer.  But I've come to terms with all that fades away is the "commerciality" of what Christmas is and not what it really is.  Jesus doesn't pack his bags and vacate the planet come December 26th.  Every bit of the hope we felt celebrating all those years ago when he was born, is a hope He WANTS us to carry with us every moment for each of the 365 days of the year.

I LOVE Matthew West's song, "Day After Christmas," for this exact reason. It's message says just that and is a great reminder of why we celebrate Christmas and why it doesn't (or shouldn't) just all go away at 11:59pm on Christmas night.  I've posted a video of him performing it below.  You can also find a version on YouTube with the lyrics.  If you've never heard the song, you're in for a treat, and if you have, you're still in for a treat ;) His Christmas album, "The Heart of Christmas," that the song is on, is one of my all time favorites!

Xo, 

Lauren

He Was There

It’s taken me a while to find the words to capture how I feel about what happened in Newtown last week. Then I realized that’s just it. There aren’t any words, they’re will never be any words. What happened to those children and their teachers is unspeakable. Broken hearts were felt around the world by people who didn’t even know the victims.

Of course in the days that followed, everyone had an opinion about why it happened, what could have been done differently, and what needs to be done to change things in the future so that it NEVER happens again. There were conversations about gun laws, mental health, and the amount of violence we expose children to through movies, music, video games, and every other kind of media outlet.

I only reacted negatively to one thing that I kept hearing over and over. There are these “notes from God” circulating around the internet. I've posted a picture to the left, so take a second and read it. While searching for it, I saw  there are even t-shirts. I get it, I do. People are angry that the same people that want to remove God from these environments then blame Him whenever something horrible happens.

My problem is this... the subtext of that message is saying that people have the power to tell God where He can and cannot be, and implying that He wasn’t at Sandy Hook Elementary School last Friday.  That’s the furthest thing from the truth and it's the wrong message to put out there. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that God was there, that His arms were wrapped around those twenty six people as their last breaths were taken that morning.

God’s presence is more than just a word in the pledge of allegiance or an audible prayer. Just because people say they don’t want Him in public schools, does not mean God draws a line at the entrance and makes sure not to cross it. God doesn’t work that way and I for one, am grateful. My prayer is that people don't use what happened as an excuse to blame God, but rather as a reason for why we so desperately need Him.

“Am I only a God nearby,”

declares the Lord,

 “and not a God far away?
Who can hide in secret places
  
so that I cannot see them?”

declares the Lord.
  
“Do not I fill heaven and earth?”

declares the Lord.
~ Jeremiah 23: 23-24

Xo,
Lauren

A Heart Melter ;)

I'm ashamed of how long it has been since I last posted anything! Finals are coming to an end this week and I promise I have lots of great stuff headed your way! For now, I'm hoping the picture below will keep you entertained. I saw it on a friend's Facebook wall. How adorable???

Xo,
Lauren

The Golden Rule Gone Wrong...

I have to warn you, if you’ve headed over here for a laugh, you might be disappointed, but I encourage you stay anyway. What I have to say has been on my heart for a while and was reaffirmed this morning while I was reading from my Bible and journaling. I just felt the need to share.

I’ve seen a lot of posts on facebook and twitter and have been hearing a lot of people say that basically if someone isn’t “adding value” to their life, they don’t need them in it and will lose nothing by “dropping them.”  I’m paraphrasing slightly, but you get the idea.  I am also not excluding myself. I have often felt “justified” in cutting people out of my life because I found them too negative, selfish, boastful, or maybe they’ve even really wronged me.

This tendency doesn’t make any of us bad people, it makes us human.  But here’s the thing, we have the capability to be better than that. God says so!  In those moments when I feel I’ve been wronged and I think to myself, “they’ll get what’s coming to them,” God reminds me of the cross.  What defines being wronged, more than a man who was brutally killed for crimes He didn’t commit, a man who was tortured beyond what we can fathom, for people who not only “didn’t add value” to His life, but took His life away?

We would all be in a whole heap of trouble if Jesus thought to Himself, “I don’t think I’m really going to go through with this, these people don’t add anything to my life, their absence in Eternity won’t really bother me.” Could you imagine if God didn't send Jesus and we really did get what was coming to us?

God’s greatest commandment is for us to love one another.  I think sometimes we misinterpret that as love those who love you back, love those who make it easy to love them.  What about loving those who don't deserve it, the same way we are loved by God?

Believe me, I know it’s not easy and we’ll continue to fail at this, but I just thought it might help to shift our perspective a little bit.  The next time we feel justified in not being kind towards someone, who hasn’t been kind to us, or not going that extra mile because they wouldn’t do the same, we need to remind ourselves that we can love like Jesus loves.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”
                                                                             ~Matthew 5:43-48

Xo,
Lauren

Calling All Baby Daddies

I love surprises. Love, love, love them! This is especially true when I am the one doing the surprising.  I try to do this every so often. My idea of a good surprise is flying back home to the East coast without anyone knowing. I’ve managed to pull this off a lot.  The best time was when neither of my parents knew.

Usually my mom is in on the surprise, but this time I literally knocked her off her feet :)

One such trip home, I went to see my grandma.  I never quite know if its a good idea to surprise her this much. She’s getting on in years and I’m pretty sure being responsible for a heart attack would kind of overshadow my whole surprise thing.  It turned out okay and she was excited to see me, but she couldn’t just leave it at that.

Generally people with CSS (Chronic Singlehood Syndrome) are mostly immune to the kinds of comments my grandma was about to make and are generally able to laugh them off.  You may not have guessed (bless your little heart if you didn’t) but I am a part of the aforementioned people.

I spent the next hour convincing her that, “No Grandma, I didn’t come home to surprise you because I got engaged.”  “Yes, Grandma I’m still single.”  “You’re right Grandma, it COULD happen someday.”

We finally moved on to others kinds of chit chat but only after I had convinced her I would try my best to have children while she was still on this earth.  I think I still have a bit of time before I start placing adds in the personals for a baby daddy.

So back to present day. I’m sitting in my apartment, hard at work, being a studious.. well... student and definitely not thinking about the above memory when my phone rings.  As I get ready to answer the phone and chew out the solicitor on the other end for interrupting my devout study time, I sighed and decided to just be nice for once.

Well it paid off... almost.  After establishing I lived locally in the San Francisco area, I was told my number had been selected to win two free round-trip tickets to anywhere in the country. (I know what you’re thinking, I was skeptical too.)

“Do I have to buy anything?”

“No.”

“Do I have to sign up for anything?”

“No.”

“Well what do I have to do?”

“All you have to do is answer a couple demographic questions and come to our Travel Agency office in the city and pick up the tickets in person.”

I figured what could it hurt to hear the questions?  If they got weird I didn’t have to answer, right?  I needn’t have worried.

“Okay, go a head.”

“Are you married?”

“No.”

“Oh.”  Oh?  What do you mean oh? Do you know my grandma??

“Nope, not married.”

“Well, this promotion is only for married people.”  Okay seriously, how much did she pay you to call me?

“Um okay.”

“Do you know any married people you could pass this on to?”

“Yes.”  Just because I have CSS doesn’t mean everyone I know does!

“Okay.”

“You’re sure they don’t have to sign up for anything or buy anything though?” I wasn’t about to join the ring of solicitors. Call me crazy, but I’ve kind of grown used to not being hated by society.

“All they have to do is come to the office in person to pick up the tickets.”

“Well, could I pick them up for them?”

“No.”

“Well I don’t have any local married friends.”

“That’s too bad.” I guess? Hasn’t bothered me thus far...

“Well thanks anyway.”

“I’ll tell you what, since you were so nice to me, I’ll keep your number on file and if we have any future promotions for single women, we’ll call you.”

“Thanks very much, have a good night.” Click.

Riiing, Riiing, Riiing, “Thank you for calling Comcast, may I help you?”

“Yes, I’d like to see about changing my phone number.”

I think I might still need some time to process the “moral of the story.”  But what I do know is that next time I read “Single Woman Seeking Married Couples” in the personals, I won’t be so fast to jump to conclusions.

Xo,
Lauren

What Happens in Walmart & The Kindness of Strangers (Part II of ‘Returning Nora to Ohio’)

I’m going back in time… well only by a month & a half… to finish chronicling my journey to and from Ohio to take my sister back to school.  The night we arrived we decided to get up early the next morning to get a lot accomplished, so unsurprisingly, we slept in.  I guess we now know one downside to not having the responsible parentals present.

I’ll cut out the details about getting ready, going back over to her apartment, checking in, getting her key so she could move her suitcases from the apartment hall into her actual room, and making a list of what NEEDED to come back with us from Walmart later that day. (Dad put us on a strict budget, which we almost successfully stuck to.)

So we arrived at Walmart without incident… almost.  There was a slight second in the parking lot where I may or may not have come close to not yielding to pedestrians.  Okay, there was, but it was good that I did end up yielding because the pedestrians turned out to be my sister’s roommate and her family. That could have been an awkward semester.

There we were, in Walmart, minding our business as we snaked through the aisles, picking up ONLY what was necessary. (just in case you’re reading this, Dad) Out of no where our eyes were irrevocably assaulted.  It is still painful to talk about so I’ll ask you to just see the photo below.

There was no sand, I didn't hear waves, this is NOT okay to wear... even to Walmart! I’ll just say this… a major strike 3 for humanity (see post Part I).

After hitting up the drive-through therapy center, ok not really, but wouldn’t that be a good idea?  I’d imagine it would improve the over all mood the of the general public on any given day.  We made it back to my sister’s apartment unloaded and put away groceries and other purchased supplies and hung out with her roommies.

I even got to meet a “little.”  Now you either know what this is… or you don’t.  I did not.  It is what the “little sisters” of a sorority are refereed to.  Those that take these little sisters under their wing are called “bigs.”  So yes, there are people roaming around out there constantly asking where their “bigs” and “littles” are.  But I digress.

Later that night I was wiped… On the plus side, I now know what goes into and will be prepared for taking my child to college.  I decided to stay in and head to bed early while my sister went out to catch up with her friends.  Upon making this decision however, I did not know there was a frat house behind the hotel.  Ergo I forwent any notion I had of sleeping and stayed up and read.  A little while later, the police came and broke up the party.  No, I am not the one who called, but I did take minor pleasure at the site below.

The next day we learned from our mistake and woke up early enough to catch the breakfast buffet in the hotel restaurant.  Since I would be staying my last night with my sister, we packed up, checked out, and headed to her apartment.  We ended the afternoon with a second, less traumatic, trip to (a different) Walmart.

Now pay attention because this is where it gets good and all of our faith in humanity can be restored.  We went to PF Changs for dinner and ended up sitting next to a really sweet couple.  After a few random ice breakers, curtesy of our waitress, we actually engaged in a nice conversation with the couple.  We chatted, we laughed, we even shared tofu.

It turned out their son had graduated from my sisters school and the couple lived near where my grandparents lived in Florida for the winter.  When it was time to pay the bill, my sister put in cash and I threw in my debit card.  When it came back, everything was still there with a note, “Your bill is paid in full, thank the couple next to you.”

Nora and I were both in shock and couldn’t say enough “thank you’s” to our knew friends.  They had paid for our dinner and didn’t even know our names!  As they stood to leave, we introduced ourselves, and then they headed out of the restaurant.

Once we left and were in the car we realized we didn’t even know their last name or how to contact them and probably wouldn't see them again.  So we just contented ourselves in being thankful for the random kindness of strangers that is not shown often enough in the world we live in.

The next morning I said goodbye to Nora as I dropped her off at class.  It probably would have been a more emotional goodbye if I hadn’t been desperately trying to avoid hitting the thousands of students I was surrounded by.  I only came close once, when I was backing out of Starbucks, with my Iced Caramel Macchiato for the road.  Thank goodness for the King Ranch and those little back-up beeps!

Xo,
Lauren

today, I was inspired by a pigeon...

Back to school leaves very little time for blogging.... I still owe you a little more of the Ohio trip.... in the interim this will have to tide you over....

So after a bit of a long and unusually hot day, I found myself on the way back to my apartment.  Class had gone well, but I had intended to stop at the Urgent Care to see if they could do something about my sinuses.  It took three unsuccessful trips up and down on the elevator for me to realize the Urgent Care was no longer where it had been before I went home for the summer. Well actually it took someone watching as I pushed Floor 3 several times with nothing happening to ask if I was lost, then direct me to the front desk with the new location of the Urgent Care... Turns out it had moved several blocks.

As that plan went up in smoke, I gave up, went back to school to fill out some paper work, grabbed a few necessities from Walgreens along with some take out from New Mings, and made my way to the school shuttle stop. Yesss, I could have walked... but it was another ten blocks and it was hotttt, so I succumbed to the air conditioning of the shuttle.  Well... I thought I was succumbing to the air conditioning of the shuttle, but once I actually got on and made my way to the only available seat way way way in the back, and sat down, I realized there was no air conditioning.

I finally made it to my stop and was quite eager to get home, when I came across a one footed pigeon hopping along on the sidewalk.  Believe it or not, this pigeon appeared happy.  I know how crazy that sounds, but it was with other pigeons doing pigeon things and it wasn't letting the fact that he or she only had one foot get it down.  I'd like to say I stopped and helped it out, but I was partly in shock and partly fascinated. I did stop myself from taking a picture because I felt that would be crossing some sort of line and definitely not respecting the pigeon.

I know we all get annoyed by pigeons.  I have this one particular memory of being in Disney with my family. Although the details are hazy, I can picture my grandmother's ice cream bar suddenly missing a large portion in the shape of an upside down triangle.  So that was traumatic for everyone involved.  However when you really think about it, I mean really, really think about it, we have it way better than pigeons and we shouldn't be so harsh with them.

And like my pigeon friend, who I've since decided was a male and have named Gus, it is important to not let the big things or the little things stop us from enjoying our lives.  The minute you start thinking about how you're having a bad day, remember there is someone out there having a worse one but making the best of it anyway.

I said before, I couldn't bring myself to take a picture of Gus, but I have since googled a picture of a footless pigeon (well technically this one is missing a leg too), just so you can get an idea of what the little guy was dealing with on the sidewalks of San Francisco.

Xo,
Lauren

just because it’s illegal, doesn’t make it a bad idea!

Disclaimer #1: Don’t get to excited by the title, no jail worthy crimes were actually committed.

Disclaimer #2: This is only Part I, even if you don’t find it interesting you have now committed yourself to sticking around for Parts II & III.


So without further ado..

Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote “This time, like all times, is a very good one, if we but know what to do with it” and as they say, life is what you make of it. It can be enjoyable regardless of whether you’re at a private celebrity packed post Oscar party or a ten hour car ride with your sister.  In the interest of not hurting anyone’s feelings I am not going to reveal which one I’d secretly rather be in attendance for :)

Two weeks ago I drove my sister, Nora back to Ohio for her senior year of college. Wellll, technically SHE drove us :) The drive went by too quickly and we literally counted down, by the mile, to the official end of our summer vacation.  After a couple stops and a bit of traffic, our seven hour car ride quickly turned into ten and yet still seemed not quite long enough.

We headed out Friday around noon in the King Ranch (courtesy of our dad). Skies were blue, country tunes were playing on The Highway on Sirius XM, and the navigation system had our complete trust (but only after we realized it wasn’t taking us in a circle as we had originally thought).


After stocking up and spending five minutes wondering why a guy would need to bring a horse to a gas station, it was time to return to the open road.  “We” drove on for a couple hundred more miles and sang out of tune to a few dozen more songs before we hit stand still traffic. Solution: abandon the thruway for the back roads!

Side note: When traffic started to slow down, we passed this ridiculous woman in the picture on the right.  She was texting like she was on the floor at the stock exchange handling millions of dollars, not driving her car on a jam-packed thruway!!!! The semi behind her kept having to hit his breaks, so of course I needed a few snapshots! Strike one for humanity.



Attempt one of "abandon thruway" failed as by the time we illegally rode the shoulder to the exit, traffic had picked back up and we changed our minds.  Unfortunately we were tricked and just on the other side of the overpass we hit worse traffic than before.  What to do? We just passed the only exit for the next several miles and we were moving at a rate of one five feet every ten minutes. Solution: Ride the other shoulder illegally to make an illegal u-turn through the grass, all the while keeping our fingers crossed that there were no cops lurking nearby.  And if there were, the car that did it ahead of us would be the one to get caught!

Operation “turn around” was successful and we finally had the opportunity to make Rodney Atkins proud by ditching the “backed-up traffic” to “tear down some two lane country" roads.

After miles of farms, charming no name towns, and several more strained vocal chords, we returned to the hustle and bustle of the thruway, with just a little over two hours left to go.

So back to my issues with humanity. I’m saddened the way people are trying to take God out of this country. Thank goodness He sticks around regardless :) My point is that humanity redeemed itself ever so slightly when we saw the below sign standing proud next to the thruway.

But as the saying goes, “The Lord giveth and He taketh away”... and humanity has some more work to do because this is what we saw next:

How is THAT not a seat-belt violation?  Strike Two!

This part of the story ends with us arriving safely at our destination, unpacking half of the car, and sharing a pizza before crashing in our hotel. Stay tuned for Part II which includes a retina damaging picture from Walmart...

Happy Labor Day!

Xo,
Lauren

"Pat-Down" Room

Glad to say I made it safely home to San Francisco yesterday, albeit a bit of a rocky start. After checking my bags and obtaining my boarding pass, I was relieved to see there was no one in line for security. This relief would be short lived. I took notice of the new scanners in place and different security measures that I was not yet used to. One of which was the hand swipe. At first, I did not completely understand the point of this, however I would soon find out as I failed the test and a little alarm went off.

Now, being a seasoned traveller, I thought I handled myself pretty well when this happened… but that didn’t keep the reel from playing in my head… me getting picked up by airport security, missing my plane, having to call my parents and tell them I was under suspicion of carrying chemical weapons on the plane… you get the idea. As much as it would have spiced up my blog, I was not looking forward to crossing “getting arrested by airport security” off my bucket list quite yet.

My luggage was scanned and then pulled apart.  I tried really hard not to laugh as the security man carefully examined the butt of my stuffed dog.  Eventually my luggage and I were taken into custody and I was informed they were taking me to a private room for the infamous “pat-down.” Oh joy.  I was escorted by two women to a small room off the side of the security section.  I’ll save you details but I will say it would have been a heck of a lot less awkward if the lady hadn’t been announcing the process. “I’m going to touch you here… now here… you’re going to feel my hand … here.” Seriously? I mean I get why they have to do that, but its all a little freaky.  Not to mention the “back-up” lady whose staring us down while all of this is taking place “to limit lawsuits of course.” I honestly can’t understand how anyone could ever be comfortable being in porn. Sheesh!

I was asked what I did for a living (upside: this meant I came across as employable) and what I had done all day.  Now my family can account for my awful memory, but to the average stranger it may have appeared as if I was making up my story.  They asked me if I had done anything unusual today. I said no, and preceded to recount my day.  Last minute packing, drive through at the bank, UPS (shoot, shouldn’t have said that, now they’re going to think I was shipping bombs), and picked up lunch (that they had to believe because it was still sitting wrapped up in my carry-on).

Then a light bulb went off and I may have said “Oh!” just a little too loudly for such a small room. I told them I had used my sister’s hair smoothing oil that morning.  Then I didn’t know if that was a mistake too.  While I know my sister isn’t carrying around chemical bomb ingredients(although there IS that suspicious black backpack she brings everywhere ;) I didn’t know if that was the real cause, and if not, I may have just unintentionally made my sister a person of interest. (I swear my thoughts sometimes travel at the speed of light).

I was thinking about how I would get her out of this (and how much fake passports would cost) when the voyeur, I mean the back up woman, left the room and came back and said I was clear and free to go.  They replied it was just my hands that had set off the alarm. I wanted to reply. “Well too bad I’m not going without them,” but alas my parent’s raised me right and I accepted this was neither the place or time to “get fresh.” I was content with their unofficial confirmation that it was my hands and the only thing of question they had come into contact with was my sister’s hair product!

Once I was cleared of harboring any kind of chemical bomb on my person or in my luggage I was free to go.  Nervous that this little delay would interfere with my boarding on time and selecting primo seating (Southwest all the way!) I quickly rushed for my gate.  I caused minimal hazard as I began checking text messages while I hurried through the airport (thank you moving sidewalks) however, I discovered my flight was delayed 35 minutes. Bummer (but not the end of the world). I preceded to grab some much needed plane necessities… bottled water, gum, and Excedrin which although a last minute decision, practically proved my prophetic abilities as the nonstop plane people chatter gave me a headache mid-trip.

My “let’s keep going” attitude almost left me when these purchases totaled exactly $9.11 (really??), but I managed to keep hold of it, continued on my way to the gate and settled in to wait for my plane.  If there was ever a day NOT to get on a plane…. but fortunately for me (and my parents who had already generously purchased my airfare) I don’t believe in coincidences or bad luck : )

Xo,
Lauren

... because itchy ears mean it's bedtime ...

Sooo about that blogging thing… looks like it fizzled.  I admit, its hard to spend time on non school things during the semester, but I plan to get better about that… eventually.  For now, I’m just checking in to let you know I’m still breathing. You’ll be happy to hear that by spending time on this blog I am not avoiding school work. In actuality I am avoiding laundry and packing (looks like I’ve come full circle from my first blog ;)

P.S. I have to check blog etiquette, I haven’t figured out if its acceptable to talk about blogging in your actual blog. It kind of seems like reality shows that depict the “real lives” of their stars, but never once on camera do these “stars” mention they are appearing on their own television show once a week. It must not be reality etiquette to talk about these things.

Back to things that matter… (not that I wasn’t thrilled at the return of the Real Housewives of New Jersey last night. (It's always refreshing to observe family drama that makes yours seem like small potatoes.) There are worse vices, but I won’t let reality television be the only focus in two out of my seven postings. (Its looking like not talking about blogging in my blog is going to be difficult.)  Okay you twisted my arm, but just for kicks and just this once....

How easily I am side-tracked. Just the other day, I was studiously doing my school work, and the reading referenced a “karaoke” styled something or other. Before I even knew I wasn’t still  doing homework, I found myself in the middle of a google search for cool karaoke places back home. I must have spent a good half hour on that before I found myself busting out to some of my favorite karaoke songs (mostly Shania Twain) and dancing around my apartment. (no doubt this moment made me a favorite among my fellow tenants)


An hour or so later I found my way back to being studious :)

Speaking of studious, I can't believe how fast this semester has gone by.  I've decided to compile a list of the education I've received these past few months.  This is what I learned...

1. the various conventions specific to individual film genres.

2. how to better analyze the lighting in movies.

3. that I tend to be in a better mood when wearing socks.

4. if I don't go to bed when my ears start itching, I won't wake up feeling rested.

5. Donald Trump is running for president.

6. disney really is real life, ie: the peasant married the prince and the bad guy was killed all in one weekend!

7. President Obama really was born in the United States..... really....  and he has a sense of humor to boot, ie:

8. Donald Trump is NOT running for president.

9. Paris Hilton really is just like us... as we will soon see on her very own reality show.

10. I should have enjoyed The Oprah Show while I had the chance.

11. last but not least how to FINALLY use hair rollers. (I think this is the one I am most proud of, as you may be able to tell from my delighted expression below)

All in all, I can't wait to go home in a couple of days and show my parents their money is being well spent and I am learning much more than they probably anticipated.

Xo,
Lauren

... and then I saw this ...

I had a plan for spring break this year.  For the first time in a long time I’m staying home.  No airports, no planes, none of the inevitable getting sick after traveling, no crazy drunk spring breakers, just a little r&r and peace and quiet.  A little extra QT with God, reading, going to the parks, maybe the ocean, shopping, movies, catching up on my DVR shows that are piling up, practicing the guitar, and basically all the "San Francisco things" I never have time to do during school, are all on my list!

... and then I saw this video/article ...

A Major Earthquake in North America Imminent? - FOXBusiness.com

So maybe it wont be quite as quiet as I'd hoped?

xo,
Lauren

so a little on my latest guilty television pleasure...

I would say its safe to assume that little girls across America dream about the day they will put on white, regardless of whether or not its an appropriate color choice,  and take a walk down a certain aisle.  However I’d also say its safe to assume that most of these little girls don’t dream that there is one man and three other women waiting at the other end!

I admit I’m a little late to this party as Season 1 of Sister Wives is over and done with and Season 2 is underway.  I caught up on all 7 episodes from last fall over the weekend and I’m hooked.  The weirdest part is that its not the polygamist craziness that keeps me watching… its the fact that they seem so … well… normal, so to speak anyway.  I'll have to keep on an eye on this... reality television has a way of bringing out the "real" reality even if it takes a couple seasons.

P.S. I’ve just come to the realization that the phrase “Just when you think you’ve seen it all” has become obsolete.  Who, living in the world and times that we do, can honestly think they will ever have “seen it all?”

xo,

Lauren

Oscar Fashion

directing you to my favorite breakdown of the Oscar fashion choices of 2011
He Said/She Said: The Oscars Red Carpet

xo,

Lauren

"omg that guy looks just like...... that sign in front of my house?"

Francis Ford Coppola, more or less anyway

(see previous post for explanation)

xo,

Lauren

"Seriously?"

I have lots to catch up from the events of the last two weeks, but I have decided to devote this particular post, in part, to my mom.  (Mom, you can thank me later). My parents and grandparents recently visited me here in the city.  So recently that it's hard to believe they've already left, but I'll touch on time moving at a ridiculous pace in a later post.

This wasn't exactly a 100% relaxing vacation for them, in fact it was mostly a "lets get Lauren moved into her apartment" kind of a vacation.  We did however manage to squeeze in some fun here and there.  "There" happened to take place in Napa Valley where we were taken on a little tour.

The day started out pretty normal... we got picked up by the tour guide in San Francisco and made our way to Napa.  The day consisted of blue skies and the kind of gorgeous weather that makes you forget about the to do list piling up in the back of your mind.  Needless to say the winding drive through the hills and valleys on our way to wine country was nothing short of breathtaking.

Our first stop was Trefethen Family Vineyards.  Since this was my first go at a wine tasting I didn't really know what to expect so I let the "adults" take the lead.  Once inside, we made our way to the wine tasting room.  Now for the record, yes, I'm in college, yes, I've been in college for... a while, and yes, I've had my fair share of fun nights out, BUT this was the first time I'd had a drink... before noon!  With my parents and my grandparents!

I will say I didn't realize all this until afterwards.  I was more preoccupied with how I was going to "taste and spit" and still appear dignified with the inevitable wine dripping down my chin.  You can imagine my relief when it appeared the common practice was to taste, SWALLOW, and then dump (from your glass) the remaining amount of wine you no longer wished to ingest.

My relief and dignity was short lived when my mom pointed out my wine mustache a little later.

It was time for vineyard #2.  As we drove up I was too preoccupied with changing my socks (long uninteresting story) to notice what the guide was telling us.  If I had been paying attention, I would have heard him say we were arriving at none other than Francis Ford Coppola's vineyard, Rubicon.

As we piled out of the car we started to take in our surroundings.  It was truly spectacular, emulating a certain peacefulness that couldn't be easily duplicated.  The landscaping was meticulous.  We started walking towards the main building.  Before reaching it, we came to a smaller house with a sign stating it was the oldest in Napa and very much a historical site.  This is where it gets interesting (the part of this post devoted to my mom).

A man emerged from the front door.  I didn’t pay much attention... until he looked up.  Was I seriously standing just feet away from Francis Ford Coppola? Thats a big YUP!  It was at this point the previous conversation in the van about this being his vineyard started to find its way into my brain.

I ran a little a head to make sure my dad was seeing this when I hear clicking from behind me.  My first thought, “sweeet my mom is taking pictures, this is awesome.”  THEN I heard her say. “SERIOUSLY?” Out of the corner of my eye I could see Mr. Coppola standing in front of the house checking his blackberry (celebs really are just like us haha).  I knew without even looking that my mom was upset that this “man” was blocking her nice little shot of the house.  I turned around as he preceded to walk to his  car, get in and drive away.

No matter, my mom had pictures!  In complete and total excitement we made our way to the main building.  It was really beautiful and the Coppola family created a little museum    in the front entrance way, behind the stairs, and upstairs as well.  A bit of trivia for you, Rubicon is home to the first ever wine tasting room.  Some ship captain from way back in the day built it.  Anyways the experience was just incredible and the wine was quite tasty.  I enjoyed it a little more being that it was a little later in the day ;)  They also are on their game at Rubicon and served bread and cheese to go along with it.  They got an A+ because I had not had breakfast yet and it was going to be a little while before lunch.

Long story...longer... at some point, walking through the little museum I believe, I asked my mom about the picture of Mr. Coppola.  Her response went something like... “well you didn’t tell me it was him!”  (I will take absolute full responsibility for this)  Oookay long story short we are now the proud owners of a picture of Francis Ford Coppola’s lower half.  I will be adding it to this post later in the week.

I love that my family always has these kinds of stories.  Life is so fun and interesting with them... I’m sure a “Noraism” story will present itself in the near future as well.

xo,
Lauren

Packing Memories

I am sitting in the middle of my messy room trying to pack to go back to school.  As usual it is the night before I leave, which means I really have no right to complain about this daunting task.  I also have no right to complain on account of while I sit amongst my empty suitcases and boxes, I've decided it must be the absolute perfect time to start a blog. (it was probably good that I switched my flight from this afternoon to tomorrow)

However, I will say the idea of packing (yes, idea, because I havent technically started yet) feels different this time because I am not just leaving for the semester, but for the entire year, maybe longer. (give or take a visit home once in a while) I am moving into my own apartment, and while this new adventure is incredibly exciting, I can't help but be a little sad and nostalgic.  Instead of packing stuff to get me through the semester, I feel like I am packing memories to get me through the year.

It makes me think of the very first time I left to go to college in Rochester.  Come to think of it, that was a "night before" packing adventure as well.  I can remember the packing list.  Im pretty sure it was sent out by the school to all incoming freshmen.  On it were the must brings, the maybe brings, and the definitely don't brings.  Of course, these were open to interpretation :)

I wish I had that list now.  Over the years obviously it has changed a great deal.  I no longer need to have every purse, item of clothing, and book I own, with me. I've also come to the realization that it really isnt that big of a deal to buy my shampoo, toothpaste, and other such necessities upon arriving at my destination.  Most significantly, all my electronic devices have shifted from the must brings to the maybe brings and of course my Bible has made the exact opposite switch.  If it comes down to forgetting something instead of freaking out, I make a quick mental note to have my parents send it to me in the near future.

I think the most significant difference as I sit around looking at my stuff is the realization that it is indeed just stuff.  I don't need to pack every single belonging in order to keep the memory attached to it.  Not that I don't expect to have an occasional relapse, but in those instances I'll remind myself I'll have better luck weighing my luggage at the airport if I just pack the memories.

xo,
Lauren