Forever Young

Last night I went to a baseball game with some friends and even though our team got smoked (15-4...wah wah) and I suck at eating sunflower seeds (I just don't have the patience to get that little seed out of it's shell, is it even worth it?) it was still a good night. I really do enjoy baseball, it's easy to follow and I usually have a vague idea of what's going down on the field. We got to sit in a box because of a 'friend of a friend' situation, and that was really cool! The fireworks got cancelled, which was a bit of a bummer, but after the sun went down the blazing heat subsided leaving us with a rather pleasant evening.
In the box next to us was this family, a mom, a dad and two young daughters (I'd say probably about 5 and 7). Anyway, this happened:
Guy: "You're probably around 15, 16...right?"
Me: "Actually I'm 26"
Guy: "I'm so sorry...I was just hoping you could talk to my daughter, she wishes she was a teenager."
So I proceed to tell the girl to enjoy being a kid, growing up is not all it's cracked up to be yadda yadda...
Then the guy asks me: "Ok, now how much do I have to pay you to tell her to stay away from boys?"
Me: "That is a speech I will give for free!" Which led into my "Boys-are-gross, they-are-nothing-but-trouble, they-all-have-cooties" schpiel.
I've always looked younger than my age, so when I actually was 16...I looked more like I was 12.
In fact, I was so convincing as a 12-year-old my parents would usually make sure I got a kids' menu at restaurants. I hated it. Not only was that down right offensive, but it was also humiliating and traumatizing and 'ohmygoshI'dratherdie'. But now I think it's funny. It's a compliment. 10 years from now (when I'm close to 40...ack!) it'll be nice to get mistaken for someone in their twenties!

An actual picture of me from my high school years...I think I'm 15 here, even though I look like a 5th grader.

Stuff.

Most of us have too much of stuff. I have too much stuff. So much stuff that there is a storage unit full of my stuff.

Stuff from my apartment: Pots and pans, dishes, a microwave, a crockpot, furniture, lamps, silverware, shoes, pictures, blankets, odds and ends, gadgets and gizmos, whosits and whatsits...you name it!

I miss my stuff. I miss my knick-knacks, I miss my refrigerator magnets, I miss the chairs I fixed up, I miss my random assortment of framed pictures and allllllll the stuff from my Alice in Wonderland kitchen. And most of all I miss my mugs. Yes, I am quite attached to my mugs.

For some reason, it makes me a little sad when I open the cupboard to grab a coffee cup each morning and I only have 3 options. I've had the same 3 options for the last 7 months and I will continue to have the same 3 options until I can move out of my parents' house.

I am waiting very impatiently for the day I can unpack this box (and the two others just like it) and have multiple mug options. Until then I will have to settle for the 3 I have here.

'Oh hey, Mom'

My mom called me yesterday evening, and we had the following conversation:
"Hey Mom"
"Hey Lauren, I jut wanted to call and make sure you're doing okay" (look up 'worrier' in the dictionary, there's a picture of my mother there)
"I'm fine"
"So what are you up to?"
"Just reupholstering some chairs"
We talked about other stuff too, none of which is relevant to what I'm writing about today, and is a tad too personal to display on the interwebs.
I feel like I should start blogging about the random stuff my neighbors leave by the dumpsters. Fisher Price play-kitchens, books, mattresses, a blender, folding chairs that are missing the seat part, shoes...you name it, my neighbors are trying to get rid of it. But nothing actually goes IN the dumpster. Just BY it. I feel like this is a passive way of getting rid of things (granted, the kitchen and the mattress wouldn't exactly fit). I have no way of knowing whether these events were perpetrated by a repeat offender, or if each of my neighbors are throwing things out in turn (if it's the latter, am I expected to leave a random piece of junk by the dumpster too?)
What boggles me is that a lot of these things, while not in prime condition, could be cleaned up a bit and donated to Goodwill. For instance there is a couch and a love seat out there now that, with a little TLC, could make a poor college student's living room very happy.
I found a couple of chairs out there the other day. They were ugly and dirty, but weren't missing any pieces or anything. So yeah, I grabbed 'em. They weren't IN the dumpster, so I wasn't digging through garbage.
I took them home, scrubbed the heck out of them, removed the seats, applied a couple coats of Kraylon high gloss black spray paint. I bought some leopard print outdoor canvas at the fabric store and a couple of foam pads, and I've watched enough HDTV to figure out the re-covering process...and I think my chairs are pretty classy.

I guess it's true what they say...one person's trash is another person's treasure. (Or at least another person's patio furniture)