My First Murder

I remember it like it was yesterday. I don't know what that says about my memory, but anyway....

I was in kindergarten. It was a drizzly, cloudy day.

We were outside for recess and lined up to come inside. As the line in front of me filed though the door, I stepped forward and felt a distinct "squish" underfoot.

I turned back. I expected it to be a wet mitten or something. But alas, it was a snake.

And right in the middle of it's body there was an indent where I had trampled it. Like when a snake eats a bird and it has that random bulge in the middle of it's body. But in reverse.

Being a very sensitive child, I felt unbelievably guilty and cried in front of the whole class.

My best friend was kind of grossed out that I had touched a snake, so she was no support. Another girl was like, "Psshhht, it's just a stupid snake. It's not a big deal." And some stone-hearted kid was like, "Ooooh! You're soooo awesome! You SLAYED a SNAKE!!!!!"

My teacher tried to make me feel better by assuring me that it was probably already sick or dead before I stepped on it. But I thought that even a sick snake deserved a better end than being squished.

To make matters worse, no one cleaned it up for a couple of days. It just laid there decomposing, and every recess I was faced with the dreadful consequences of my carelessness.

A Band-aid Fixes Everything

"Mommy! I need a Band-aid! Do we have any more?!" I yelled from the kitchen.

"Why?! What happened?!" my concerned mother asked as she rushed into the room.

She discovered me sitting on the floor. Wrappers littered the area around me, along with an empty 60-count box of bandages. Band-aids covered every square inch of my leg from my foot all the way up to my knee on my right leg.

"Lauren! What are you doing?!"

"I got an owie on my leg, and I think I maybe breaked it. I'm making a cast. It feels better already!"

I learned a valuable lesson that day about not being wasteful and Band-aids not being cheap.

Dream Cure

I had some more crazy vivid dreams this week. Like the one about Becky and I getting married on a boat.

It was an arranged marriage. Our parents had planned the whole thing. It was the day of the ceremony, and we were on a huge cruise ship. It had a massive dining room and a pool and a large chapel.

I was like, "Oh, we need to make a playlist for our reception!" I pulled up my iTunes and started asking Becky what songs she wanted. She totally shot down Cut Copy.

"I've never heard them on the radio, Lauren. That's just really shady."

It got me thinking, "Becky why are we getting married in the first place?" 

We tried to hunt our dads down to call off the whole deal, but they were like,"We need to go fishing!"

I was like, "I'm sorry, Becky, but I might have to leave you at the altar."  She was totally fine with that. And then we went to eat the ice shavings from the ice sculptures.

One of my friends at work told me, "Yeah, that is a very strange dream....Maybe you should start drinking."

Rules of the Bedtime Prayer

As a child, my bedtime prayer was one of the most significant creations of the day. Due to our Crazy Choir Director, I had some pretty wild ideas about prayer construction. The formula was:

Introduction: As I Lay Me Down to Sleep. I knew 2 versions, and I had to say both because I wasn't sure which one was "right."

Blessings: All recipients must be named individually. At minimum, the list of blessings must include all immediate family members.

The Big Picture: This is where to add in requests for orphans, the poor, world peace, etc.

The Specifics: Requests about spelling tests, a crush giving me a Valentine, please don't let us have a fire that burns the house down, etc.

Conclusion: "In Jesus' Name, Amen." This was like the stamp of prayers. They would not reach God if this phrase was not used.

You have no idea how many times I would say my prayer and end it with, "Amen." Then I would realize that I had forgotten to say, "In Jesus' Name." So I had to start all over from the beginning. Sometimes I would add in, "And please include anything I forgot to say in this prayer, that I said in my other prayer."

It was also very important to pray every night, because I thought that prayers expired after 24 hours unless renewed. So you'd better ask God for his love to guard you through the night EVERY night, or probably a burglar will steal all your pants.

All prayer requests had to be made from memory. Writing them down was cheating.

Be My Arms!

Here is a video of Monica and I for you to enjoy:

Drivin' Down the Road

Who Stole My Pants?!

I have long had the unfortunate habit of not always closing drawers when I'm done with them.

It was a traumatic day all those years ago when I awoke to discover that all of my pants were missing from my bottom drawer.

I quickly tore open my other drawers. Nothing missing there. But my pants were all gone. Using 7-year-old logic, there could only be one conclusion.  A burglar must have come into my room in the middle of the night. Being in a rush, they would have gone for the most convenient items: those in the open drawer.

Alarmed, I ran to my mother to alert her of the grievous crime.

Unfortunately, my interpretation was all wrong.

Apparently, my older sister had snuggled up to go to sleep when she heard my little sister get out of bed. Corinne had a habit sleep-walking when she got up to use the bathroom. Grudgingly, Monica decided to check on her.


The bathroom light was not on. But the light in my room was. She opened the door to find Corinne squatting over my pants drawer with a very drowsy and confused expression.

"Corinne! Did you just pee in Lauren's drawer?!"

"No. I just can't find the toilet paper," came the sleepy response.

Monica went to go get her some, but by the time she returned Corinne was already back in bed, sound asleep.

I slept through the commotion of my mom emptying my drawer and loading all on my pants into the washing machine.

You would think that having your wardrobe urinated on would eliminate the open-drawer quirk. But I still do it all the time and then walk through my kitchen like, "What the eff are these doing like this?!"

Now I Get It!

Yesterday I went to an ugly Christmas sweater birthday party. See how fabulous it was?

I think I may have figured out why so many middle-aged women love these things for real. They give you power.

When we got to the bar, I started dancing. And I kept dancing. A lot. I never dance in public. Not even when I'm tipsy.

It was all in the sweater. I already looked like such a fool that it didn't matter how silly I looked busting out with my crazy moves.

The Holiday Spirit

I set up my Christmas tree yesterday, and it is kind of glorious. I have yet to figure out how to keep the giant sparkly turquoise star from leaning, but I do enjoy a little imperfection.

Most people like to listen to Christmas music while they set up their trees. Or maybe have a heartwarming movie going. A Charlie Brown Christmas. How The Grinch Stole Christmas, perhaps.

But as for me, I was watching a documentary about the body trade.