What if life were more like theatre?

When I watch the Superbowl, I rarely know what's going on and the people around me are far more into it than I am. That's what it's like for everyone else when I watch the Tonys. (And by 'everyone else' I mean my parents).

There were times tonight when I literally squealed at the television. Like during this fabulous opening number:

Right? Isn't that just wonderful? Yes. Yes it is.

I am convinced that Neil Patrick Harris was born to host the Tonys. I don't care if he never does anything else in life but annually host the Tony Awards. 

I was a little underwhelmed by the Newsies performance, (of course the choreography was incredible, I guess I'm just overly attached to the movie). I was, however, thrilled that Matthew Broderick performed with his Nice Work If You Can Get It cast. Maybe my love for Ferris Bueller has transferred onto the actor himself, but I can't help but love Matthew Broderick, and I am thrilled that he is back on the Great White Way! Needless to say, I am anxiously awaiting the release of the Nice Work cast recording.

As much as I love the Tonys, I always get a little bummed being so far away from the 'action' of it all. The odds of me getting to see a Tony-nominated musical or play are pretty slim considering I'm dirt broke and living in Central California. At least I get a little taste of what's out there. Of course, that just makes me want to see it more.

A lot of other stuff happened too, but it's kind of past my bedtime. So...here is Neil to sum it all up for you (Please keep in mind that CBS scheduled the Tonys to run until 11, and this number didn't air until about 11:05)

aaand scene!

Why moving back home was the best decision I didn't get to make for myself.

Exactly a year ago today, I made the necessary move back into my parents' house after the devastation of losing my job. After the move, I felt small, I felt defeated, and I felt incredibly depressed. I didn't have a job, I didn't have a purpose, and I didn't have an ounce of independence. I didn't want to do anything...I couldn't do anything except watch Penelope on a loop all day. I had lost any reason I had ever had for getting out of bed.

A year later...I can say that moving back to Visalia has been the biggest blessing in my life!

Friends- I have a sitcom-like group of people in my life, and I'm not sure how I got this far without them! I have been more social, been on more adventures, and have had some of the most fun I can imagine in this past year: Beach days, mountain weekends, theme parks, 5Ks, Denny's, spontaneous ice cream runs, movie nights, sock golf, movies, mini golf, game nights, sevies runs, you name it! These people make my life better then it's ever been!!

Work- I feel like I have really found my footing teaching preschool. I really feel like this is what I was meant to do. I still get to hang out and help out with the youth, which I love doing...but my heart is that of a preschool teacher. I am so much happier in this career then I was in youth ministry. I get to hang out with children every single day. I get to do arts & crafts, I get to sing silly songs, I get to hold tiny hands and I get to hear things like "Miss Lauren, you look pretty today"...such a self-esteem boost!! I work with an amazing and supportive group of women so I pretty much have the best job ever!

Church- I have always considered my church here in Visalia to be my home. I literally grew up at Christ Lutheran, and the members of that church are my family! Ever since I've been back, I have felt so supported and encouraged. I feel so filled with worship, and ironically...the church that has known me since I was a baby treats me more like an adult and with more respect than the church that I worked for. I have even been honored to serve as a presiding minister, which has been so incredible. I am so humbled to be trusted with such a big responsibility.

It is incredible to look back and reflect on the awful experience of losing my job and see all the good that has come from it. Even though I'm still stuck in my parents' house...I can confidently say my life is about 88% better now then it was in SoCal

So blow the candles out, my dear...

Today is my birthday, and I love my birthday!!

I have gone through a lot over the past year. Moving out of my apartment and back into my parents' house four days into my 25th year led to a rocky start, but 25 ended up being a great year! I met a lot of new people, and I made some terrific friends who have blessed me tremendously! Now I can only hope that 26 is just as (if not more) great.
As amazing as this past year has been, it's still a little hard for me to cope with that fact that I'm nowhere near where I thought I'd be in my life by the time I crossed the threshold from 'early to mid-twenties' to 'mid- to late twenties'. Although, my dad was 39 for several years...surely, I can hang on to 25 for a little while longer.

I want to keep having birthdays, but I don't want to get any older until something changes. I like the birthday crowns, and the birthday wishes, and the birthday blessings, and the birthday dinners...and I love the birthday bikes!

Okay, maybe 'birthday bikes' shouldn't have been plural. I just got the one. But it's pink and it has a little basket, so I think I'm good there!

I did have a great day: my friends surprised me last night with pie and ice cream, my kiddos sang to me today and my parents took me to my favorite Mexican restaurant for dinner! I just want to keep all the fun stuff, but stay away from the birthday blues!

Going to the chapel!

Yesterday one of my oldest friends got married...she's not old as a person (she's only 25), just old as a friend. Emily and I met at church and have been friends since about first or second grade. We went all the way through Sunday school, confirmation, high school and youth group together. And I was honored to be invited to take part in this special day with her! The ceremony was beautiful, the bride was gorgeous, the groom was beaming from ear to ear and the reception was fantastic!

The reception was held at the Visalia Country Club, which I had never been to before. It's a pretty swanky establishment so it's a good thing I had my classy hair-do...or they probably wouldn't have let me in. It was great to see some friends from high school again, as well as some of their parents. It was kind of weird, though...trying to figure out how and when we all became grown-ups. I mean, ten years ago I never would have imagined sipping champagne with people whose fridges I'd raided at so many sleep-overs. I mean, sharing a dance floor with moms and dads that were like second parents through high school...weird, right?

But it was a really fun reception, the food was terrific and band was rockin'. I even got to dance with the cutest guy!! Granted, he was probably about 7, but he definitely had 'those moves like Jagger'! I love dancing at weddings! I didn't even take my shoes off...I lasted all night in my 3" heels...you should be impressed!!

Congrats to Emily and Drew...I know you two will live happily ever after!

A Place of One's Own

Once upon a time I had my own apartment. The rent was too high, the neighborhood wasn't great, and my air conditioner didn't work. On several occasions I had to re-light my heater pilot with a match when it went out, and once my toilet broke and it took two days before someone came to fix it. My kitchen had the ugliest brown lacquered cabinets, and I swear my upstairs neighbors had a pet elephant who enjoyed tap-dancing. The frat boy wannabes (who were in their mid-thirties) across the way played their awful music too loud, and if the kids weren't using my back-patio to play hide and seek on, they would always be screaming in the pool (which was right on the other side of my patio).

But, despite all of this...I had my own apartment. I had my own living room, and my own bedroom, and my own kitchen, and my own bathroom. I could decorate however I wanted, and watch whatever I wanted on TV.

I'm starting to really miss my old place...especially today when I'm being charged with the task of cleaning 'my' room.

A sampling of photos from my apartment in Simi

First off, it's really hard to keep your room clean when you have to figure out a way to keep all of your stuff in there...which is tough, since my room at my parents' house isn't that much bigger than my queen-sized bed that's in there. I have maybe a 12"-border around my bed, and mom won't let me hang anything on the walls (which are no longer the teal of my teen-hood, but a shade of gray that reminds me somewhat of a prison cell...apparently it's supposed to be 'classy' but it just feels depressing). How am I supposed to feel like this is my room if I'm not allowed to put any of myself into it? With none of my travel pictures, or even pictures of my friends the blank walls just make me sad. Plus, I am really starting to miss my stuff. Every time I visit the storage unit, I see all my chairs, and my lamps and my decor...and I just miss it.

Working less than 30 hours a week, along with the three semesters it will take (at least) to get all my ECE certification means it's going to be a long while before I'll be able to see the light at the end of the 'living with my parents' tunnel.

I feel like the only way I'm ever going to be able to move out is if I:

a) Inherit a house that is already paid off and has no property taxes attached to it

b) Win a bajillion dollars by playing the lottery, because a bajillion dollars should cover rent for a while

-or-

c) Get married

none of these are likely solutions...especially since I don't even play the lottery.

I guess I'm just destined to live the life of a twenty-five year old teenager...

You can't have your pie and eat it too...

I like to bake. Baking relieves my stress, and stimulates my creativity. Mostly just cookies, because they're fairly easy and the ingredients are usually just around. But lately, I really like to bake pies. I also like to eat pies...and homemade pies are the best to eat (so I've been told). However, my father has a ridiculous sweet-tooth, and now that I'm back living with my dearest, darlingest Mumsy and Popsicle it has become increasingly more difficult to keep baked goods around. About a month ago, I made a peach and blackberry pie. Y'know...just 'cause

It was not only the best and most prettiest pie I'd ever made, but it was probably one of the tastiest pies I'd ever eaten. But I only got to eat about two slices. I made this pie on a Monday afternoon; it was gone by Tuesday evening.

Last Saturday, my parents had a friend over for a BBQ...so my mom 'commissioned' a pie. I decided to make an apple pie with a layer of pecans and brown sugar under the crust.

I won't lie...it was a really yummy pie. According to dad, it was the best pie he'd ever had. Which apparently was cause for him to eat the half that was left over the next day. Just for once I want to make a delicious pie and have it last longer than a couple of days. I would like to bake a pie and get to eat a slice for dessert every night for a week without my dad devouring the pie I'd worked so hard to make.

Something to add to the list of things to do if I ever move out of my parents' house

Moving out and moving on...

I have neglected this blog as of late because something slightly devastating has happened and I needed to talk about with with family and friends before slapping it up on the internet.

It goes like this: I lost my job. This isn't the appropriate setting to give details, but I can say that it sucks.

A lot.

Loss of job (and the loss of income that comes with it) has forced me to move out of my apartment in the SoCal suburbs and back in with my parents in the Central Valley. As grueling as packing and unpacking was and is, the mental preparation for this move took more out of me than the physical. At 25, the idea of living with my parents (even though I've already been here for two weeks) still makes me mad and sad. I feel like I've lost my freedom (cue over-dramtic music).

While being back in my hometown hasn't been all bad (I enjoyed an impromptu picnic with a couple of old friends last weekend and a 'murder mystery dinner party' with some new friends this past weekend) it's just still very hard to wrap my mind around the fact that I don't have a job or money...and very little dignity. I just updated my resume, and I'm looking into taking some classes to increase my array of 'marketable skillz'. I've filled out half a dozen online job-applications (as well as the Myers-Briggs-esque questionnaires that accompany each one)...

I'm still not 100% what I want to 'be'. I can't see myself in a career that doesn't involve working with kids, as taxing as they are...I just love 'em

Half full, half empty or too big

I have this giant mug I got at Disneyland, commemorating the 55th anniversary of the theme park. And by giant...I mean giant!!!

So, naturally...I can't fill it all the way to the top. Whichever hot liquid I chose to put in this cup (coffee or tea) would surly be cold by the time I was half way through. So I don't fill the mug to the top, I fill it to the middle.

Some would say the cup is half full. Some would say it's half empty. Some would say it's too big. Okay, that was literal.

I try so hard to view the proverbial 'mug of life' as half full, and lately it's been taking a lot of effort to see things that way. I'm not flipping over to the 'half empty' side of things, but maybe just the 'too big'. I feel like I have a lot on my plate right now. Work is crazy, my parents are on my case for not 'getting out enough', and I am finally facing the facts that I am too poor to care about any of that. Being optimistic just takes too much work, and I quit. And I'm over it. And I'm tired.

I like to pronounce it 'thee-ay-tor'

...theatre, that is.

I went up to visit my parents this weekend, and Friday evening, my mom and I went to the William Saroyan Theatre where the national touring company of Wicked (a New? Musical) is making a brief stop. This was my second time seeing Wicked, but before I talk too much about the show I'm going to be a snob and do a little rant on theatre etiquette. My first complaint is how people were dressed...yes, it is just Fresno, but I have always upheld that, whether it is community theatre or a professional show, people should dress for theatre. I'm not expecting ball gowns and tuxedos...but please no Uggs, flip-flops, t-shirts, sweat-shirts, shorts or ripped jeans. And when they say 'turn your cell phones off' turn them OFF, not just to silent. (I can't even count how many people I saw on their phones at intermission, because your email and Facebook are too important not to be checked for the duration of a three hour show). And for goodness sake, arrive on time. The people sitting to my left didn't come until 'The Wizard and I' was almost over, and of course they caused a disruption because their seats were in the middle of the row! If I ran a theatre, any guests that aren't in their seats by curtain would have to wait in the lobby until intermission.

Okay I'm done.

Wicked was INCREDIBLE!! Anne Brummel's Elphaba was perfect! And although I wasn't sold on Natalie Daradich's G(a)linda right away, she grew on me and ended up nailing it! The thing that I think surprised me the most was how small the cast was at the curtain call. The monkeys, students, Emerald Citizens and 'Ozians'are all portrayed by the same 15 people (who must undergo some serisouly complicated costume/make-up/wig changes several times throughout the show) but you don't really realize that until they take their bows.

The cast was so talented and the sets were just incredible. I truly think I could sit through this show every night of my life and get something different out of it!

Plus, I got another mug to add to my collection!!

Through the river and over the woods...

It has been raining here for, like, a week straight! The sun finally came out today, and it was beautiful!! (I was secretly hoping for a double rainbow, but the rain stopped shortly after the sun came out...) I've never seen rain like this before, it was incredible!! A little ridiculous, but mostly incredible!!
The next few days are supposed to be sunny, or at least not rainy, for the next few days...but I'm not going to be here. I'm flying to my grandma's for Christmas...the best part is going to be the 4 adults in a Prius road tripping from the Sac airport to grandma's house...and I can't WAIT!! Mostly because my family is CRAZY!!!. First off, 16 people over for Christmas. 5 cousins, 2 aunts, 2 uncles, 3 dogs, 2 cats, 1 step-cousin, 1 cousin-in-law, 2 parents, 1 sister and a grandma who says and does things mostly because she's old and no one is going to say anything back. I will give an example: My grandma came in September and tried to give me money. I told her no. I refused to take it. So what did grandma do? She stuffed it down my shirt!!...yes, apparently, my grandma thinks I'm a stripper. She also says stuff like "Because you'll want to go to church on Christmas eve, I should probably start going again so they remember what I look like there." Oh, grandma...
I am so ready for this crazy to happen!! Bring it on, Christmas, bring it on!!!

But first, I should probably pack!


The picture I'm sending with all my Christmas cards next year...I hope your Christmas is as awkward as mine!!

I need a hero

or maybe just a plumber.
I was taking a shower a few days ago (well I took one today too, but this thought struck me Wednesday) and my shower head was acting weird. I was going to blog about it that morning, but then I lost my blog...and then after rebuilding it, I lost my motivation. However, my shower this morning got me going again. When I moved in to my apartment I took baths for a few weeks because I didn't have a shower curtain, and then after limbo-ing through my first shower (and 5'8" is not that tall, mind you) I got one of those adjustable shower heads and I installed it myself (while this may sound impressive, putting in the tension rod was a lot more complicated and slapstick-ish.) Aaanyway...I was in the shower, and not only is there a delightful stream of hot water sprinkling out of shower head with the perfect level of water pressure, but there was also this waterfall-type dribble leaking out from the twisty thing where you pick what kind of stream you want from the shower head. The leak isn't coming from anywhere that the shower head connects to the water source, I righty tightied the heck out of that thing when I was putting it in. So I'm confused, and would really just like this problem to go away.
In other news that is in every way, shape and form unrelated to that ^ ^
but one of my former bosses (ahem, a camp director) has taken it upon herself to find "someone" for me. When I told my mother about this diabolical plot her response was "I want to meet this woman, I think we'd get along!" Not only is it weird that some one who used to employ me is trying to set me up, but I also find it odd that my parents haven't met my 'camp parents'...

So much confusion in my life right now!! Geez!

Perspective

Along with foresight, perspective is one of my biggest 'growing spots'. This leads to poor decision making and selfishness.
Much like a friend of mine who melodramatically exclaims that his "life is over!!" every time something doesn't go his way, I tend to get worked up over the little things that don't really matter in the grand scheme. For instance, I get pretty upset when ever I lose my chapstick (which happens approximately 52 times a day). A few days ago, my blow drier stopped working. I tried it in several different outlets and pushed the reset button over and over. I figured going to work with wet hair was the 'worst thing ever'. But it's not. Going to work with wet hair is far from the 'worst thing ever'. First of all I have a job to go to. I have an apartment with running water (hot water no-less). I am so lucky...beyond that, I am incredibly blessed. I take so much for granted, hot water, electricity, a job (that I actually like), a roof over my head, parents who love the bejeesus out of me.
It's unfortunate that it takes tragedy to strike for me to find some perspective in my life. About a week ago one of my best friends lost her mother. Perspective.
Here I was whining about a broken blow dryer, when this girl is mourning her mother. I can't even fathom what that would be like to lose my mother. A tube of chapstick, a blow dryer, that's nothing. They're nothing, they're plastic...but family is irreplaceable.
I wish I could be one of those mature people who doesn't need tragedy to slap me into focus. I'm sorry that I'm so selfish I don't even realize I'm being selfish.

My parents went on vacation and all I got was...

...about a week's worth of cheesy souvenir mugs!
Introduction to 'theme within a theme'...the next four days will be the mugs my parents brought me back from the road trip they took last summer. I don't remember what they brought back for my sister, but it was probably something that was 4-mugs worth of non-cheesiness.
I kinda like these mugs though...in a quirky kind of way. They remind me of something you'd see at grandma's house (probably not my grandma...but a grandma.)
This one is from Wyoming. It has a wolf on one side that I wasn't able to capture the awesome-ness of with my camera, so I decided to just not bother and stick with the the caribou or moose or whatever on the 'right-handed' side of the mug.

Also, a thought struck me this morning as I was making my coffee...
I wish everything in life was like coffee filters. I mean, you can buy a package of 200 for, like, $1.75...and you know how long it takes to go through 200 coffee filters...almost a year. I can spend $1.75 on something that lasts almost a year.

Misc.

I'm at my parents house because I'm on 'vacation' this week. I'm not going to take a week off and sit in my apartment, and if I didn't have anywhere to go I wouldn't have taken a vacation at all. Tomorrow we're leaving for the Northern Cali cost, which should be interesting to say the least.
Since all my furniture is now in my own apartment, my room here is just an empty teal box...it's sad. Also, it means I have to sleep in my sister's room and I officially don't live here anymore, which is weird.
I was rumaging through my closet, though, looking for some old pictures (since one of me and a friend circa 1997 just surfaced, I was wondering what other gems I could find), and I came across the bridesmaid dress I wore in my friend's wedding two years ago. Naturally I had to try it on. It still fits (well, it still zips)...and I've been wearing it around the house for the past 15 minutes.
Yeah, I'm 24 and I'm playing dress-up. But I paid $170 for this dress, and I only got to wear it once, and it's pretty.
It's ice blue, strappless, tea length and has exposed tulle at the bottom with some pretty ribbon deatail. It makes me feel like a real girl.
I don't feel like a real girl very often, it's not that I'm not feminine enough, I guess...but I tend to act a little bit more cynical when I talk to guys than I should be. Especially last week at camp. Now, I love my camp friends dearly...and some of this can be blamed on a camp wardrobe that consists entirely of cut offs and tank tops...but I just spent a week not feeling the least bit like a girl. A female, yes...but an actual lady? Notsomuch. So today I wore a skirt and heals to church, make-up, hair the whole schpiel, and it helped...but putting on this dress makes me feel like a real lady.

Now, if you'll exuse me...I have to get ready to take a trip with my mommy and daddy tomorrow, and it's almost past my bed time.