Progress Report 12- 4 Years Later

Lucky me I started writing again just in time to celebrate 4 years of blogging! I wonder if I can really give myself a pat on the back when I took a 6 month hiatus… Oh well, an anniversary is an anniversary! It’s funny I can still remember the night I decided to start this blog. I had gone out with a bunch of girlfriends and had a blast but I came home and reflected on my life and felt like I wasn’t progressing in ways I wanted to. I thought that maybe writing my thoughts on what was happening in life, and what I wanted to happen would be a good idea.

This being a good idea is still up in the air, but I’ve enjoyed writing and being able to look back. Though to be honest I can’t look at things before fall of 2012, it’s too weird. I was so focused on dating it’s kind of annoying- now it’s more of a punchline than something to worry about.

Even within this past year so much has changed on and off the blog. This time last year I was having that adventure with Major, and now we’re not together and I turned out to be thankful we broke up. I almost left for Utah and didn’t pursue graduate school. Now I proudly say I’m a graduate student (despite the constant mental torture) and I have a job I absolutely love. But it’s not just my circumstances that have changed, I’ve changed.

So that’s me in review; changed. Now aside from the sappy I should get onto the usual portion of a progress report. Dating life. I have a few pictures to help illustrate this. Please read the captions and hashtags thoroughly.

Well that’s all. Okay well, so I had a surprisingly good Valentines day. But I don’t think details are needed right now. Besides, I don’t want to make the special guy I met at speed dating jealous.

Cliff Hangers

Oh spring, is it just me or is the end of spring semester always have more questions than answers?

The power that be has dictated that I stay in Omaha. I wonder how many times it will take me to finally realize I’m here for good. Might as well buy a burial plot now. Not that that’s a bad thing, it actually sounds like a smart investment considering how land prices are bound to rise. Plus I want an expensive tomb with an escape hatch when I’m buried which will take a while to pay off. Knowing my luck I won’t actually be dead the first time I get put in the ground. It will probably take at least 3 times before I’m for real dead and buried.

And with me staying in Omaha I will start graduate school in the fall and will be a graduate teaching assistant. Funny how I’ve been dreaming of this for four years and it’s actually happening. It’s even funnier how I can look back on these past few years and see how things have perfectly led up to this. With so much build-up and preparation I can’t help but wonder what is in store with grad school?

Do I even feel prepared for grad school? No. Do I feel like I deserve this? No. Am I willing? Well on a scale of Laman to Nephi I’d say I’m at a Samuel. If you’re not Mormon you won’t get that, but it means that I’m willing but not as much as I need to be. Do you have any idea what grad school is like? It will be worse than working in insurance. Well, maybe not. That’s some consolation. But it will be hard. Hard like insurance.

Not to mention I have 1 class to take this summer. One class that if I don’t pass will ruin my future. Am I making too big of a deal over it? Yes, but then again it is draining my finances. I have no idea why, but every summer is “Let’s see how little Lauren can live off of!” It’s like 3 months of famine before 9 months of not-really-plenty-but-good-enough-for-a-college-student. Hence why I take weird jobs in the summer, like insurance.

The question begs will I survive school? Will I make it to grad school? Will they ever find someone to help me at FHE? Okay I know that one is a ‘no.’

Will I make it through the summer after paying rent and classes or will I have to sell muffins on the street corner?

I have no freaking idea. But if this blog has taught me anything it’s that taking a few leaps of faith get me through these cliff hangers. I’ve already taken my first one by signing my GTA agreement letter.

So here is that first leap of faith, signing an agreement that I’m going to work hard and stay put in Omaha for another 2 years and get my MA!

This is going to be interesting.

Baby I’m Back, Back Again

Did you miss me? I hope so, or else I’m gonna feel pretty lonely.

Anywho it has been toooo long. So what have I done since last posting? Well I committed the ultimate revenge by breaking into a friends place and giving him the gift of toilet paper on my birthday (it was payback for him blowing out my pre-birthday cake while I was at his birthday party…. It’s kind of a long story).

I lost all faith in my family when I learned that my childhood pet was put down instead of given up for adoption like they had told me. Nothing says “Family Holiday” like learning your family has lied to you for 13 years.

I got a onesie for Christmas!

Bouquet #10 was caught, which I think forever sealed my status as “That one chronically-single friend that will own a lot of cats and skin people in her basement.”

I’ve lost 15 lbs and gained a 3rd job! Which those two bits of info actually go hand-in-hand in a weird way….

I’m moving out of my ghetto into another ghetto! I really know how to move up in life.

I GOT AN IPAD!

But I already cracked the screen… Some things never change,

It’s Not Cute Anymore

I’ll just make this short and sweet, I broke my computer.

And can I just ask my mom if she is reading this to stop and text me for details. Seriously, please don’t read the account when you have the opportunity for me to stammer it out over the phone.

Oh and since I’ve realized more and more how much my mom is reading my blog (darn you Facebook link) I will be addressing her directly every once in a while.

Anyways- back to the story.

I have a thing for hand rails. There’s just something about them that says, “Look- I’m an adult but I’m still too lazy to just walk down the stairs. I need to fly!”

So whenever I see a nice handrail, that’s what I do.

Now I should be utilizing handrails to aid me as I walk down stairs, but regardless if I’m in heels, a cast, or peg-legged I must slide it (and I haven’t become peg-legged yet but it’s only a matter of time).

I have had several falls and rolled a few ankles, but that hasn’t stopped me. Until now…

Last Wednesday I had a ‘feeling’ I should skip class (I think any Mormon reading this knows what I actually mean when I say ‘feeling’). But I didn’t because I enjoy the class and skipping is stupid- usually.

We got out of class nearly an hour early and I knew there was only one way to celebrate: the handrail on the west side of ASH.

I had this spidey-sense moment that something bad was going to happen, but I ignored it.

As I began to slide down I was thinking, “Look at me I’m releasing my inner child and sliding down the rail. I’m so cute! I’m- AHHHHHHH!”

Yeah mid-slide I lost balance and fell on my back. My back just also happened to have my backpack on it, which contained books, sharp objects, and my computer inside. Yeah, my precious laptop.

I got up from my fall and looked to make sure nobody saw my fall, and as far as I know no one did. Though if there is some viral video out there of me I’d like to know; it’s probably titled: dumb blonde falls, it ain’t cute.

I idea that my fall could have harmed my computer was beyond me, I’d already put it through so much I assumed it was invincible. Turns out gravity is the only thing that could break it.

So after 4 years of loyal service I had to put my laptop to rest.

And I realized if I had skipped class then this wouldn’t have happened. I have gotta start listening to feelings that tell me to skip class.

But now I have an awesome 17-inch MacBook Pro that makes other computers look weak. I just have to start resisting the urge to slide down handrails… This has been a lot tougher than it should be.

Texts From My Sister- Part 2

I made a huge mistake. I put a profile pic up with me and another guy. Of course, when you’re chronically single your loved ones get quite excited when there could be hints of a relationship. Sadly my sister’s hope for me is getting on the desperate side.

Dillon: So… Who’s Jake?
Me: He’s gay.
Dillon: So is that one dude with 3 daughters (she is referring to the author of The Weed Club blog). Besides, that still didn’t answer my question 😛
Me: A friend… A very gay friend…
Dillon: So is he the guy you’re showing around UNL???
Me: No…

Last time my sister and I conversed she suggested that I get knocked up to land myself a hubby and now she is hinting at dating gay men. I don’t know how my life got this way or how to make it stop.

Though I must admit, if I did marry Jake our children would have great hair and impeccable fashion sense. That is a bonus.

Texts From My Father- Part 7

This past week my dad has been sending his occasional insult/comic quote/loving texts, but of course he had to take things up a notch with our last conversation.

Dad: Any word on finding a husband yet? Remember, 22 is the new 65.
Me: Any word on which retirement home we can dump you at yet? Remember, 47 is the new 93.”
Dad: No need to get hostile. If u need help find any guy, I can help track something down for u. Are u OK with a felony record?

Me: 1) I don’t need your help 2) If I did ask for your help just know I just need someone to be somewhat mentally competent, so no one who’s been in the navy.

I do feel as if I won this round of texting, though I feel a little remorseful whenever I have to make fun of my dad’s military service. But I’m sure anyone can understand why I had to take this one below the belt.

By the way this is the retirement home I have planned for my dad. They say they’ve had patients disappear lately, but I think my dad could handle himself.

Texts From My Sister

I’ve brought up my older sister (aka the mother of my niece Lafawnduh) a few times in the past. Notably, for her game where she’d say she was sending me a picture of my niece but instead would send something that would frighten me. Today I think she started a new texting game: how to get Lauren married.

Sis: [person who shall remain nameless but is notably younger than me] got married before you did! I think I know the answer to your relationship issues: lower your standards, get knocked up *boom* instant hubby.

1 minute later…

DO NOT DO THAT IT’S MEANT TO BE A JOKE HAHA LOLS

Me: I blame you for whatever stupid thing I do next…

I do appreciate my family’s diligence in trying to figure out what is wrong with me so I can finally experience marital bliss like the rest of them, I just don’t think my resistance to getting knocked up is the problem.

My Family Thinks I Have Tapeworm…

I think my sister and brother-in-law have been watching too much House. This past weekend I’ve come down with a cold, so like a responsible adult I complained about it on facebook. This was the response I got:

I ate some salad and my family is now convinced that I have tapeworm, despite the fact that I clearly have a COLD. Even WebMD backs me up on this one… And now I sadly know more about tapeworms than the average citizen should thanks to my Brother-in-law’s comment and wikipedia. I just know next time I sleep I’m going to be thinking about all the different types of tapeworms out there.

This is a pin worm; they hide in your food. Have fun sleeping tonight.

How To Get Your Father Arrested

If you read my posts you know that my family has its own dysfunctional way of showing love. By this I mean that we find insults and pranks as signs of endearments. I think this past weekend I showed the ultimate sign of love when I tried to get my dad arrested.

Saturday my parents were in Lincoln to drop my little brother back off at the dorms. Luckily I didn’t have anything planned for the day so I went down and met up with them. We had lunch with my sister and her family and tried to come off as mature even though some of us hoarded the straws so that we could blow the wrapper at people.

The rest of the day I drove my parents and brother around to get some errands done so he would be ready for classes Monday. Not only was every aspect of my driving abilities brought into question but my dad and brother would corner me wherever we stopped and stuff snow down the back of my shirt. After they did this a few times I knew I had to find a way to put a stop to this tom-foolery.

We were in a crowded parking lot of a grocery store and I could see my dad gathering up the snow, readying for the attack. As he approached me I yelled as loud as possible, “HANDS OFF PEDOPHILE!” I can’t tell you what his reaction was because I ran into the store so it’d look more legitimate.

From what my mom says my dad just got a lot of concerned looks from everyone in the parking lot. It seems I’m going to have to try this a few more times before I can get police to catch on.

After that incident my dad quit with the snow, but my brother decided to try still pester me in a more tactful manner.

Ryan: Hey Lauren, do you have a boyfriend yet?
Me: Um no Ry-guy I don’t…
Ryan: Too bad, I’m going to start calling you O.M. Which is short for “Old Maid.”
Me: Fine Ryan, I’m going to start calling you D.M.
Ryan: What does that mean?
Me: Dead Man.

It was a good time with my family and I found a new way to get my dad to stop acting out, I just now have to figure how to properly get my brother back since he now refers to me as “O.M.” in all his text messages…

Texts From My Father- Part 4

I sometimes think my dad texts to me just to give me further cause to pinch his IV drip when he’s on his deathbed. I say that because me dad has found a weak point. Let me show you our last round to explain:

Dad: I should be in Las Vegas by noon tomorrow & a millionaire by supper. If you think I’m a pain in the butt now imagine me with money.
Me: You couldn’t possibly be more of a pain than you already are, even with money. All that would mean is you’d be able to pay for your own bail.
Dad: Old maid.

There. The last text won this round. Since Thanksgiving my dad has started calling me an old maid. Now my dad thinks this is ironic because I’m only turning 22, but little does he realize in Mormon culture I technically am becoming an old maid… But don’t worry I plan on putting an extra scoop of metamucil in his jug of iced tea for every time he calls me old maid. I can’t wait to see what high amounts of fiber are going to do to his digestive system…

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