Five Things Friday - The Apparently I Don't Know How to Count to Five Edition

Sorry for not posting again sooner but I’ve spent the last six or so days trying to recover from the cold of eternal misery, perpetual anguish and everlasting snot.  Seriously, it has not been a good week for this girl.  And Ryan is absolutely no help.  When he’s sick I have to sit by his bed and like wipe his nose for him while singing “Here Comes the Sun.”  But when I’m sick he’s all “It’s not the PLAGUE Lauren, it’s just a cold.” So then I went into the bathroom and rubbed his toothbrush all around my just-a-cold-germ-infested mouth.  And let me tell you something else, when he’s mysteriously sick next week he’s going to need to find someone else to go buy him crackers and Gatorade at the gas station at three in the morning.  Because I am tired of getting crackers thrown at me at three fifteen in the morning because they are not the correct kind of crackers.

Well that was long and sort of angry.  I apologize for that. Colds make me a bit sad and stabby.



Thank You NPH, I Needed That.

  I’m going to try to counteract the sadness and the stabbiness with a MORE than Five Things Friday post about things that make me happy.  Most of these things are taken from pinterest.com, which is the most awesome website of all time.  It is also very exclusive, obviously, if I’m a member.  I’ll send you an invite if you ask me nicely. 


Baaa.

Ok for real this just makes me laugh out loud like every single time I look at it.  I miss Arrested Development pretty hard.  I was trying to explain the magic (excuse me illusion) of the show to one of my coworkers yesterday but I couldn’t stop laughing because I was all “And then a seal eats his hand and then he has a hook for a hand and he doesn’t have to be in the army and Tobias is a never-nude who wants to join the Blue Man Group and George-Michael has a crush on Maybe who is his cousin which is awkward but it’s ok because then he gets a girlfriend and her name is Egg,” and my coworker was just looking at me like I was crazy.

This is so awesome to me because of something that happened last Halloween.  My sister Jordan and her friend Jessica went out with Ryan and me.  We went to a house party and then to a bar and over the course of the night Jessica became quite intoxicated.  So we all climbed in a cab and directed the driver to her apartment.  When we got there she wobbled to the door and yelled “Thanks Guys, I owe you a Klondike Bar.”  It was random and hysterical.  Less hysterical is the fact that I still have not received my Klondike Bar Jessica.

Seriously, LAUREN.  And if you ever get that Klondike bar and eat it, you had better lift some fucking weights too.

Also, Take Out The Garbage.

I am also kind of a big deal when it comes to the following things:

Locating and naming all of the countries in the world faster than my dad can.  And now I’m working on capitals.  HA! Take that DAD!

16 Inch Co-Rec Softball.  I pitch.  It’s a glorious beautiful thing.  Ryan plays right field because he’s not very good.  He plays the bench when we have enough people.  We tell him it’s because he’s good at keeping the scorecard.  That’s not why.  It’s because he’s not very good at softball.  Also, he’s really not even that good at keeping the scorecard.

Following proper elevator protocol, which seems to be a dying art.  Stop talking on the phone and listening to your terrible music too loudly and Yes I did in fact just smack you with one of my crutches because you tried to clamber into the elevator before I, the girl on crutches, got out.  I don’t regret it.  I would do it again.  Also, it’s sort of ridiculous to yell “hold the elevator” when you are still twenty feet away and there are seven other elevators.  So, you know, I don’t.  I push the door close button instead and pretend like I’m scrambling to hit the door open button.  And then if I’m alone in the elevator, and I suppose even sometimes when I’m not, I laugh my evil laugh. 

I feel like I’m also going to be a really big deal at being crotchety when I’m old, if I’m already this huffy and ornery at 27 (and a half, I KNOW Ryan, stop reminding me.)

Exactly.  The sole reason I married my lovely darling Ryan is because he knows the difference between ‘who’ and ‘whom’.  The fact that he empties the dishwasher and buys me presents and lets me write evil things about him on my blog was just icing on the wedding cake.

Awwwww

What? I told you I was feeling stabby today.

Ryan, Can you buy me one of these?  Thanks!

And finally, just for laughs, here is a picture of me at the end of my Bachelorette Party when I fell backwards into the tub at the hotel.  My spine and butt were so bruised the next day. 

Ouch.

And here is a picture of my sister Jordan and my friend Vanessa at my other Bachelorette Party in Orlando pretending to be moose (mooses?).  Because they were drunk and suggestible.

There were so many people around.

Welp.  Must go because it's after five and it’s Friday and you know what that means.

Also,

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Five Things Friday - Questions I Need Answered Immediately.

Are you supposed to empty the lint tray in the dryer right after your load of laundry is finished?  Or right before you do another?  Because I have always just emptied it right away, as soon as my laundry is done.  But Ryan thinks that it is appropriate to let the lint just chill in the tray until he is about to dry his next load of laundry.  The problem with this is that sometimes I am the next person to use the dryer and then I have to delint the tray even though it was his stupid sweatpants that linted it up in the first place.  So I feel like I’m doing double-lint duty.  Is it crazy that this bothers me?  Would it be wrong to save Ryan’s dryer lint until he is sleeping and then put it in his mouth and tell him it’s double-lint gum?



 How much would you say is an appropriate amount to talk to one’s animals?  If the answer is not, “oh like constantly whenever one is around one’s animals,” then I may be overdoing it a bit.  But in fairness to me, Ryan worked nights for 18 fricking months and I had no one to talk to besides either myself or the dogs and the dogs just seemed like a saner alternative.  So I’m going to forgive myself for exclaiming “Daisy do you see that monkey!? Do you want to eat that monkey?” while watching Love In The Wild last night.  I’m also going to forgive myself for watching Love In The Wild in the first place.

Oh Sam and Mike Please Fall In Love.  Please Please Please.

When you go over to your best friend’s apartment to visit, whether announced or unannounced, is he/she usually naked when you get there?  Oh just my best friend then?  Yeah I thought so. (Disclaimer: I don’t actually see her naked.  I just have to wait in the hall until she puts clothes on after I knock.)

An OK Picture of Us.  At Least She's Wearing Clothes.

Is it, would you say, normal to injure one’s self while asleep? Does it happen to anyone else A LOT?  Because I do it A LOT.  Besides the normal bumps and bruises from kneeing myself in the mouth or somehow getting most of my hand stuck in my hair and then pulling out a lot of hair, I have these lovely little things called Night Terrors  that in some instances have ended with me flinging myself off the bed and into a piece furniture while still fully asleep.  Once from the top bunk of a bunk bed my sophomore year of college.  That was the day I took up swearing.  Seriously, I NEVER swore at all before that.  (Except for one time when my sisters made me really really mad when I was a senior in high school and I was like “You know what…you can just….go to hell.”  And then they laughed at me for ten years.)  I have also recently thrown myself out of my current bed into the dresser and gifted myself with a golf ball-sized lump on the back of my head because I was pretty sure a lion was slowly creeping out of Ryan’s closet.  It was really painful and I cried but I do like the fact that if a lion were indeed stalking out of the closet in the middle of the night that I would just throw myself out of the way and let the lion have his way with my husband.  I have crazy pants survival instincts even when asleep.  Also, my bedtime routine has now been expanded from checking the bed for spiders to checking the bed for spiders and the closet for lions.

Sidebar: If you’ve read the spider story in a previous post - Can you imagine if I accidentally overlooked a lion one night and then as Ryan was getting mauled by said lion he was all “Oh good job checking for lions last night Lauren.”

Noooo!! Don't Eat Ryan!!

Do any of the three of you reading this (hi Dad!) have a question for me?

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Darling You Are Growing Older

A couple of Thursdays ago I got a $20 gift certificate in my email for a sushi place Ryan and I eat at all the time because APPARENTLY it was the day I turned twenty-seven and one half years old.  It seems it is not enough to just get older once a year anymore.

Also, I made Ryan celebrate my half birthday with me that night, which means I sent him a text during the day saying “Can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned for my half birthday! Love You!”  And then Ryan had to run out and get me flowers and a bag of peanut M&Ms.

I’m currently getting my wedding dressed cleaned, after seven months.  It’s going to take a lot of weeks.  I’m already experiencing separation anxiety.  When I told Ryan this he asked “Are you going to experience separation anxiety when I go out of town in August?”  And I was like “Yes?...Let's Just Say Yes”

Ryan has this giant really nice beanbag chair that he got in college called a LoveSac.  LoveSac is the name the producing/distributing company gave this really nice beanbag chair, not like a secret and sick name Ryan and I gave it.  In fact, if I actually had to give it a name, I would call it the I’mAllOutOfLoveSac because seriously it is RUINING MY LIFE.  For one thing, my husband, a 28 (if I have to be 27.5 then you have to be 28 Ryan) year old man, and not a 18 year old college fraternity boy, has a history of NOT LETTING ME GET RID OF THE LOVESAC.  For another, it is giant.  Like it was made to seat three adult people comfortably.  And it currently resides in our second bedroom, which is not that big.  Which means to get in the second bedroom you have to shove the door open as far as you can against the LoveSac and then dive through the door crack onto the LoveSac and then roll to the ground on the other side.  And the thing is, the second bedroom is home to all of my clothes.  It is where I get dressed in the morning after taking a shower.  And I don’t appreciate having to do a ridiculous naked dive tuck and roll maneuver just to be able to get some damn underwear. 

If anyone is interested, I am selling a LoveSac.  It is really nice with absolutely zero gum stains and I never roll around on it naked.  Please contact me and NOT RYAN if you are interested.

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Five Things Friday - Super Secret Edition - Also I Realize it is Monday

1. I do a LOT of drugs…for anxiety and depression and the-not-getting-pregnant (but that’s another story.)  It’s not something of which I’m ashamed.  I AM ashamed of the amount of cheese I consume but unfortunately there is no drug for that and my doctor has requested that I please stop asking her questions like “What would you say is an appropriate amount of cheddar cheese to eat in one week?” and “Hmmm…Ok so if I ate, let’s just say “triple” that plus like a shit-ton of parmesan and one small wheel of gouda, is that like, would you say, concerning?”

2.  Last Sunday when Ryan was at his family’s lake house and I was supposed to be home cleaning and grocery shopping and shaving my legs…I was actually home watching the Teen Mom marathon on MTV and looking at pictures of baby animals online while wearing my wedding dress.

3. I have to this date found five grey hairs on my head.  The first time it happened I convinced myself it was just a blonde hair.(DENIAL)  The second time I was like, “oh crap, this is really happening and it is not ok I am only 27 years old” and then Ryan said “you’re almost 28” and then somebody threw a shoe at him and he shut his big fat mouth for a while.(ANGER)  The third time, I tried to make the point to Ryan that if I was old enough for grey hairs then I was old enough for babies (BARGAINING) and he was all “it’s not your age that is in question here Lauren, it’s more of a maturity level thing,” which seemed like a pretty ridiculous thing to be coming out of the mouth of someone who only moments before had been stressing out about his high score in an iPhone game called Tiny Wings.  The fourth time I just sat down and cried, mostly because I accidentally smashed my face into the bathroom mirror when I was tying to get a closer look at the grey hair, but also because of the grey hair.(DEPRESSION) The fifth time I was like, “meh, bigger fish to fry.”(ACCEPTANCE)

4. Before I leave for work in the morning I have to check to make sure both of my dogs are breathing by putting my hand on them and physically feeling their chests move in and out.  Sometimes after I leave and lock the door and walk to the elevator I have to go back to make sure they’re still breathing.  I might be going crazy.  Also, it seems a little suspicious on my part that I never check to see if Ryan is breathing. 

5.  On Thursday after work I tried unsuccessfully for like three minutes to buzz myself into the side door of our building.  I was getting pretty frustrated that it was not working so I stomped around a little bit and kicked the door a little bit and said something like “RRARGHH.”  And then I realized I was trying to use my work ID to get into my home.  This is not the first time this has happened.  It is not even the second.  Also, I’m pretty sure our doormen are always laughing at me.  

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Oh The Places You'll Go - No Bars Until You are 21

At the end of this summer my youngest sibling, my six-foot-four little brother, is heading off to college.  And while I’m very excited for him to finally make some friends and like, get a life already because it’s about time Davis, I’m very not excited for me.  Because seriously, him going away to school is making me face the fact that I am no spring chicken.  Because I am ten several years older than my brother.  But rather than wallow in my discontent I have decided to use my additional decade of slightly more than like three years of experience to impart some wisdom upon my brother.

So Davis Edward, here is my going-away-to-college advice to you.  It’s all very well thought out and helpful.  I promise.

1. When you go to freshman orientation it’s probably a good idea to pack more than one pair of shoes.  Because there is a chance you will be doing an undignified amount of walking during freshman orientation.  And if you only pack one pair of brand spanking new sandals then you run the risk of acquiring some seriously major blisters and being forced to wear socks with your sandals because it hurts so much.  And then you will make no friends at freshman orientation. 

2. There is a chance that you will not LOVE your roommate.  This is OK.  It is ok if you and your roommate like different music and study at different times and he/she is a vegetarian while you sometimes wake up with a sausage biscuit with one bite taken out of it under your pillow.  You can deal with this and make other friends and hey, it’s only a year and then you can pick your roommate. 

3. There is also a chance unfortunately that you will not even LIKE your roommate, a chance that you might in fact be SUPER CREEPED OUT by your roommate because they have a boyfriend that is over forty that lives in Canada that they met on the internet who sends them lace nightgowns in the mail.  This is NOT OK.  This is when you get out.  Because if you don’t then they will use your camera to take pictures of themself wearing the aforementioned lace nightgown to send to the aforementioned forty year old Canadian internet manfriend and then forget to delete them.  And then you will be eating chocolate pudding and going through the pictures on your camera and you will scream and choke and there WILL BE CHOCOLATE PUDDING EVERYWHERE.

4. Sometimes in college you get really really poor because you spent too much money last weekend on beers to drink books to study.  And then you will have to eat nothing but ramen noodles and chocolate pudding for weeks on end because it is all you can afford.  Sometimes this is worth it because sometimes it is a lot of fun to study books with your friends but sometimes you will really regret it because you will wake up feeling SUPER EDUCATED and the only thing to eat will be chocolate pudding.  And then you will be like, well at least I can look at all the pictures I took last night of my friends and I studying books while I eat my chocolate pudding.  And we already know THAT doesn’t end well.



My friends and me at the "library" in college.  Me on right.



5. I suppose I should give you some actual real advice at some point.  So here goes.  Keep your dorm door open at all times for the first couple of weeks of class.  This makes it easy to meet people.  Participate – whether it’s a fraternity or intramural sports or the radio station or whatever.  This makes it easy to meet people with the same interests as you.  Get good grades, seriously, I mean it.  Take pictures, you will want them later.  Go to office hours.  Taking a girl to the cafeteria and paying for her dinner with your meal plan does not count as a date (RYAN.)  And above all, seriously seriously remember the thing I said about the flip flops.  Because it takes a long time for people to stop asking if you were that girl boy limping around in bloody socks and sandals at orientation. 

Also, Happy 18^th Birthday Davis.  This totally counts as your present by the way because I spent all of my money on books.


Davis - Always the only boy.

 

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