"Kiss me like you're leaving for war. "
That was my one request.
3 in the morning, in the falling snow, under the glow of the street light... That was not planned.
It was just a small look into the reality of our beautiful adventure.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
I Was Always Meant To Be His
My Grandpa, Donald Albert Loock. From my earliest memories, he has been there. Although much older than myself, he was a friend I could trust; Someone who'd always lend an ear to me. When I was a kid, my Grandpa would babysit me, and if we weren't sitting in the middle of the kitchen sharing a can of vienna sausages, we were at Costco, where he'd allow me to run up and down the isles trying every single sample. He shared, with me, my passions from horses to swimming. He also shared, with me, his passion for the Utes, for family, and for genuine love. In later years, never once did he miss a single of my concerts, musicals, or plays--even though I knew he couldn't even hear what was going on half the time. What a boost it was to me to look out into any crowd or audience and see that loving, generous, and ultimately perfect face looking back at me; A face that has been through many trials... and many victories.
When I found my biological family, my Grandpa rejoiced with me, but still reminded me that I was his, and he wouldn't let anyone or anything take that away from him. And what a strength to me to see his encouragement as I discovered my past. On a particularly hard day, I found myself down, distraught, and pretty much hysterical. I was crying. I was angry. I was ready to quit as I lay on the floor, pressed up against a wall. This happened to be a weekend that my Grandpa Loock was staying with us, and he had overheard the commotion. He never was a man of many words, but without any hesitation, he walked up to me, lowered his 88 year old body to the floor, and held me in his arms. Never did a hug mean so much. Never had I seen a person who completely forgot his own problems and pains just so that he could be at my level. It was then that I knew, more than ever, that I was always supposed to be his. I was his Lauren Darlin. He was my Grandpa Loock. My funny, smart, playful, hard working Grandpa. Some bonds are thicker than blood... I know mine was with him.
He held me in his arms soon after I was born... and I held his hand as he left this earth. In this past week, my Grandpa became very sick, and took to the hospital in a condition that was far from fair. Hospitals have always been a scary place to me, and I'd avoid going inside one at any cost. The first day he was in the hospital, I walked up to the door as slowly as possible. I shook as I rode the elevator. I quivered as I entered his room, and tears streamed down my face as I saw him lay there in pain. However, a miracle happened in the course of the last week. With each day, I found it easier to be in the hospital, because I knew my Grandpa needed me. I went to his bed side every day, and held his frail hand. After all he'd done for me, It was easy to do that small thing for him.
On one particular day, things were really bad. He was done trying. He wanted to leave his sick body. He wanted to be with his sweetheart who'd passed away 2 years prior. Tensions ran high as my father and his sisters met with the doctor to plan what to do next. I opted to be with my Grandpa as this meeting went on. I choked back tears as I walked to his bedside, and he turned to me saying he wanted to die. I didn't want to accept that. I didn't want to hear that. So I started to sing to him. I sang him his favorites, I sang Christmas Carols, and still, in between breaths, he reminded me that he was done with his pain. That he wanted to be with my Grandma. Yet, between sobs, I continued to sing for 45 minutes.
How blessed I am to have had that time with him, because just days later, he would pass away.
We gathered in his room to say our goodbyes. Peace enveloped every person, and every inch of space. We sadly hesitated to let our loved one go, but knew that it was his time. He was about to leave his sick body, and be with his parents, his siblings, his son, and his beautiful wife again. It was my turn to go up to him and say my goodbyes. I knew I needed to be strong for the man who showed constant strength to me, but how could I do it? How could I show him even an ounce of the love and compassion he showed me? I leaned in close, mustered a smile, and asked to see those blue eyes of his. He opened them and looked right at me. It was then that I said, "I got my blue eyes from you, didn't I Grandpa?" And he nodded. This was our bond. And it was so much thicker than blood ever could be! I do believe he gave me my eyes... because he gave me so much. Tears rolled down my face as I wrapped him in a hug, and there, with my dear loved ones, we watched him take his last breath.
This recent experience has been a new one to me, as I've watched a life slowly leave this world. However, this experience has also opened my eyes (that my grandpa gave me) to the blessings that are around me. The blessings of hospitals, and their mission to save lives. The blessings of good health. The blessing of his doctors and their professional concern for his well being. The blessing that is my family... I know now, without a doubt, that if there was ever a time in my life I was in need-- I'd never be alone. My Grandpa had someone by his side, nearly every hour of every day. I was completely humbled to see the amount of love everyone had for this one man. I was inspired by everyone's genuine care, concern, strength, and faith; All of which are traits that my Grandpa has instilled in each of us. My family showed me the meaning of true love in the past week, and I want each of them to know how grateful I am for who they are. And last, but not least, my eyes were opened to the truly amazing man my Grandpa, Don Loock, was. He was a man among men, and blessed more lives than he even knows. He's been there for me from the beginning--He's been there for all of us. And I can't wait to see him again someday! It's like I said before... I was always meant to be his. And he was always meant to be mine. My sweet Grandpa.
I miss you.
When I found my biological family, my Grandpa rejoiced with me, but still reminded me that I was his, and he wouldn't let anyone or anything take that away from him. And what a strength to me to see his encouragement as I discovered my past. On a particularly hard day, I found myself down, distraught, and pretty much hysterical. I was crying. I was angry. I was ready to quit as I lay on the floor, pressed up against a wall. This happened to be a weekend that my Grandpa Loock was staying with us, and he had overheard the commotion. He never was a man of many words, but without any hesitation, he walked up to me, lowered his 88 year old body to the floor, and held me in his arms. Never did a hug mean so much. Never had I seen a person who completely forgot his own problems and pains just so that he could be at my level. It was then that I knew, more than ever, that I was always supposed to be his. I was his Lauren Darlin. He was my Grandpa Loock. My funny, smart, playful, hard working Grandpa. Some bonds are thicker than blood... I know mine was with him.
He held me in his arms soon after I was born... and I held his hand as he left this earth. In this past week, my Grandpa became very sick, and took to the hospital in a condition that was far from fair. Hospitals have always been a scary place to me, and I'd avoid going inside one at any cost. The first day he was in the hospital, I walked up to the door as slowly as possible. I shook as I rode the elevator. I quivered as I entered his room, and tears streamed down my face as I saw him lay there in pain. However, a miracle happened in the course of the last week. With each day, I found it easier to be in the hospital, because I knew my Grandpa needed me. I went to his bed side every day, and held his frail hand. After all he'd done for me, It was easy to do that small thing for him.
On one particular day, things were really bad. He was done trying. He wanted to leave his sick body. He wanted to be with his sweetheart who'd passed away 2 years prior. Tensions ran high as my father and his sisters met with the doctor to plan what to do next. I opted to be with my Grandpa as this meeting went on. I choked back tears as I walked to his bedside, and he turned to me saying he wanted to die. I didn't want to accept that. I didn't want to hear that. So I started to sing to him. I sang him his favorites, I sang Christmas Carols, and still, in between breaths, he reminded me that he was done with his pain. That he wanted to be with my Grandma. Yet, between sobs, I continued to sing for 45 minutes.
How blessed I am to have had that time with him, because just days later, he would pass away.
We gathered in his room to say our goodbyes. Peace enveloped every person, and every inch of space. We sadly hesitated to let our loved one go, but knew that it was his time. He was about to leave his sick body, and be with his parents, his siblings, his son, and his beautiful wife again. It was my turn to go up to him and say my goodbyes. I knew I needed to be strong for the man who showed constant strength to me, but how could I do it? How could I show him even an ounce of the love and compassion he showed me? I leaned in close, mustered a smile, and asked to see those blue eyes of his. He opened them and looked right at me. It was then that I said, "I got my blue eyes from you, didn't I Grandpa?" And he nodded. This was our bond. And it was so much thicker than blood ever could be! I do believe he gave me my eyes... because he gave me so much. Tears rolled down my face as I wrapped him in a hug, and there, with my dear loved ones, we watched him take his last breath.
This recent experience has been a new one to me, as I've watched a life slowly leave this world. However, this experience has also opened my eyes (that my grandpa gave me) to the blessings that are around me. The blessings of hospitals, and their mission to save lives. The blessings of good health. The blessing of his doctors and their professional concern for his well being. The blessing that is my family... I know now, without a doubt, that if there was ever a time in my life I was in need-- I'd never be alone. My Grandpa had someone by his side, nearly every hour of every day. I was completely humbled to see the amount of love everyone had for this one man. I was inspired by everyone's genuine care, concern, strength, and faith; All of which are traits that my Grandpa has instilled in each of us. My family showed me the meaning of true love in the past week, and I want each of them to know how grateful I am for who they are. And last, but not least, my eyes were opened to the truly amazing man my Grandpa, Don Loock, was. He was a man among men, and blessed more lives than he even knows. He's been there for me from the beginning--He's been there for all of us. And I can't wait to see him again someday! It's like I said before... I was always meant to be his. And he was always meant to be mine. My sweet Grandpa.
I miss you.
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
If Tomorrow Never Comes
Have you guys ever heard that Garth Brooks song called, "If Tomorrow Never Comes?" If you are in any way, shape, or form related to the Loock clan, I'm sure you have. Let me just give you a little insight into what this song says:
"If tomorrow never comes
Will She know how much I loved her
Did I try in every way to show her every day
That she's my only one
if my time on earth were through
She must face this world without me
Is the love I gave her in the past
Gonne be enough to last
If tomorrow never comes."
This song plays in my head from time to time, and , although it is about love, I like to think about that phrase in more ways than one. I think about it in time, in moments, in words, in food, in music... I think to myself, Lauren... if tomorrow never came for you, what did you do today to LIVE?
Today was a sick day for me. Turns out I have a gnarly sinus infection and took to my bed for large amounts of sleep in between bouts of delicious cough syrup. There was once a time when I was unemployed, not in school, and spent much of my days just... being. Much like I did today. I'd sleep in late, watch a series on Netflix, make some mac and cheese, Facebook, and in bed by 9. That was all fine and dandy at that time. However, now I have a full time job, a full time do, and time filled with adventures with my sweet Austin. I can't help but look back on that old "lifestyle" and think, man, what kind of living did I do on those days? How many sunrises did I miss because I was still in bed? How many different people did I lose out on meeting because I was content being alone? How much of my life did I actually live on days like those?
Well, readers, let me tell you something. My eyes are opened. Today is December 2, 2013. I will never live THIS DAY again. I will never live yesterday again, and once tomorrow passes, it, too, will be gone. So, yeah, what IF tomorrow never comes? The chances are, it will come, and I will live to see the sun rise another day. So maybe that's not the question we should be asking here. Maybe, instead, we should ask... What If Today Goes By Too Fast?
So, here I am, challenging myself once again to do something EACH and EVERY day that will make that one and only day worth living. Like I said, today was a sick day. But today I got a bowl of my favorite soup. Today I watched my dog light up when I took him on a ride in the car. Today I wrote a letter to a friend. Today I sat on my Mom's lap, pretending I was 5 years old again. Today I blogged. Today I laughed. Today I cried. But let me tell you something... today I lived. I did things that were special to me, no matter how big or how small, and there will never be another single day exactly like this one.
Why not stop and look at that sunset for 5, 10, or even 15 minutes? Why not try a new food you've never tried? Why not buy someone a present, out of the blue, and watch their mouth turn into a smile? why not go out of your way to A&^W because you know they have the best ice cream?
Why not take the time, right now, to tell someone just how much you love them.
People often say that life is short. I say that it's the DAYS we live that are short. So you'd better believe that tomorrow, December 3, 2013, I am going to do at least ONE thing that, in my book, is considered living.
Goodnight, Friends, and happy December 2, 2013
*revised 12/03/2013*
Saturday, October 12, 2013
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Being Cinderella
Yesterday I had the privilege to volunteer at a Fairytale Festival put on by the local theatre I often perform at. I know what you're thinking... What is a fairytale festival and where can I go to one?!
This fairytale festival was a two day event that included music, princess hair, fairy house making, real live princesses walking around, real live pirates, a costume sale for the upcoming holiday, food, and so much more. Little girls flocked from all over to have a 'Princess Tea Party,' while young boys gawked at the REAL LIFE hot wheels car. Much work was put into the festival, and it paid off! What was my role, you ask?
Pony Rides.
I was originally supposed to sing, as well as perform my cooking skills at the hotdog stand, however, when I got to the festival Saturday morning one thing led to another, and before I knew it I was leading two small horses, Annie and Harley, around a stretch of grass on the west side of the theatre.
This task was no problem for me, because I love horses, and know how to somewhat work with them. However, the true joy of this task was within the children. As each child anxiously came up to me with their 2 tickets, I would ask them their name and lift them up on the pony. As I made the rounds leading the horse around the lawn, child after child beamed, just thrilled to be riding a horse that seemed to be just their size. I casually made small talk with each little boy and girl, asking them their age and what grade in school they were. Some responded, talking off my ear, while others were far too concentrated being on a 'wild animal' to even realize I existed.
One little girl, in particular, really made my heart smile. She eagerly stood in line in her light blue dress, her hair done in a tight bun on the top of her head framed by a sparkly tiara. Many of the kids had dressed up as their favorite princess/prince/pirate or whatever, for the festival. And, although, they looked the part, when I asked, as I lifted them on the pony, they obviously told me their real name- which was to be expected. But not this little girl. She walked up to hand me her two tickets, and I quickly kneeled to her level and asked her name. She ever so confidently responded:
"My name is Cinderella!"
Wow. How incredible is that. What would it be like to have the innocence and absolute perfect imagination of a young child. This little girl had zero hesitation when telling me, a perfect stranger, that she was, in fact, the beautiful princess. She was beaming. She was beautiful. She had not a care in the world except to ride the pony. She truly believed that, in this moment, she was Cinderella. This little girl got me thinking; What if we, as adults, could just pause our lives and 'be Cinderella'... if even for a day. Would it be possible? Would we be able to take ourselves out of the stress of work, school, and family? Perhaps we could SAY we were Cinderella, but would we truly BE Cinderella?
Life doesn't go away. That's just a fact. But how do YOU choose to view your life? It's easy to get sucked into the struggles and trials that come with each new day... dwelling on the problems that bring us down. It's easy to live these days as a 'The Wicked Step-Mother,' scowling and cursing at what's good, and being influenced by what's evil. For what, though? To end each day tired, done, and dreading the next? I say NAY! I challenge every one of us to live each day more like this little girl, taking the blows with poise and elegance, because, duh, that's how any good princess would handle situations. I challenge each of us to take our poor, sad self out of the equation, if just for a day, and CHOOSE to be the better version of ourselves. I challenge each of us to take a cue from this small child and allow innocence and imagination to overtake us for a few hours, so that we might be happy, carefree, and both inwardly and outwardly beautiful.
I challenge each of us take on the idea of simply BEING CINDERELLA.
This fairytale festival was a two day event that included music, princess hair, fairy house making, real live princesses walking around, real live pirates, a costume sale for the upcoming holiday, food, and so much more. Little girls flocked from all over to have a 'Princess Tea Party,' while young boys gawked at the REAL LIFE hot wheels car. Much work was put into the festival, and it paid off! What was my role, you ask?
Pony Rides.
I was originally supposed to sing, as well as perform my cooking skills at the hotdog stand, however, when I got to the festival Saturday morning one thing led to another, and before I knew it I was leading two small horses, Annie and Harley, around a stretch of grass on the west side of the theatre.
This task was no problem for me, because I love horses, and know how to somewhat work with them. However, the true joy of this task was within the children. As each child anxiously came up to me with their 2 tickets, I would ask them their name and lift them up on the pony. As I made the rounds leading the horse around the lawn, child after child beamed, just thrilled to be riding a horse that seemed to be just their size. I casually made small talk with each little boy and girl, asking them their age and what grade in school they were. Some responded, talking off my ear, while others were far too concentrated being on a 'wild animal' to even realize I existed.
One little girl, in particular, really made my heart smile. She eagerly stood in line in her light blue dress, her hair done in a tight bun on the top of her head framed by a sparkly tiara. Many of the kids had dressed up as their favorite princess/prince/pirate or whatever, for the festival. And, although, they looked the part, when I asked, as I lifted them on the pony, they obviously told me their real name- which was to be expected. But not this little girl. She walked up to hand me her two tickets, and I quickly kneeled to her level and asked her name. She ever so confidently responded:
"My name is Cinderella!"
Wow. How incredible is that. What would it be like to have the innocence and absolute perfect imagination of a young child. This little girl had zero hesitation when telling me, a perfect stranger, that she was, in fact, the beautiful princess. She was beaming. She was beautiful. She had not a care in the world except to ride the pony. She truly believed that, in this moment, she was Cinderella. This little girl got me thinking; What if we, as adults, could just pause our lives and 'be Cinderella'... if even for a day. Would it be possible? Would we be able to take ourselves out of the stress of work, school, and family? Perhaps we could SAY we were Cinderella, but would we truly BE Cinderella?
Life doesn't go away. That's just a fact. But how do YOU choose to view your life? It's easy to get sucked into the struggles and trials that come with each new day... dwelling on the problems that bring us down. It's easy to live these days as a 'The Wicked Step-Mother,' scowling and cursing at what's good, and being influenced by what's evil. For what, though? To end each day tired, done, and dreading the next? I say NAY! I challenge every one of us to live each day more like this little girl, taking the blows with poise and elegance, because, duh, that's how any good princess would handle situations. I challenge each of us to take our poor, sad self out of the equation, if just for a day, and CHOOSE to be the better version of ourselves. I challenge each of us to take a cue from this small child and allow innocence and imagination to overtake us for a few hours, so that we might be happy, carefree, and both inwardly and outwardly beautiful.
I challenge each of us take on the idea of simply BEING CINDERELLA.
"Who Will Be There?!"
The title of this post is a line from the beautifully and intricate show, Into The Woods, written by the extremely talented Stephen Sondheim. The reason that this line comes to mind today is because this particular line is said by Cinderella's step sister, Lucinda. What is important about that, you ask? Well, I will be playing Lucinda in an upcoming production of Into the Woods at Centerpoint Legacy Theatre, opening this next MONDAY!!!
The show is filled with twisting plots, and a quick paced score that sends the audience full blast into a fairytale world including characters from Cinderella, Jack and Bean Stock, Little Red Riding Hood, and many others. This magical show, however, is difficult. It is probably one of the most difficult shows i've ever been in. I know you may think that it's just musical theatre... how hard could it be.
These people have never attempted to perform in Into The Woods.
I am excited to have made this show after over 200 people auditioned. I'm grateful for the opportunity to be back on the stage, although I believe I may be taking a break following the run of the show. I'm sure i'll discuss this further in a later post.
Now if I could just remember that dang line... "WHO WILL BE THERE?!"
The show is filled with twisting plots, and a quick paced score that sends the audience full blast into a fairytale world including characters from Cinderella, Jack and Bean Stock, Little Red Riding Hood, and many others. This magical show, however, is difficult. It is probably one of the most difficult shows i've ever been in. I know you may think that it's just musical theatre... how hard could it be.
These people have never attempted to perform in Into The Woods.
I am excited to have made this show after over 200 people auditioned. I'm grateful for the opportunity to be back on the stage, although I believe I may be taking a break following the run of the show. I'm sure i'll discuss this further in a later post.
Now if I could just remember that dang line... "WHO WILL BE THERE?!"
Saturday, September 28, 2013
New Goal
Hey, kids. It's me.
I have a secret to tell everybody that reads this thing they call a blog; I enjoy writing. Like, a lot. In fact, It's always been a dream within me to become a writer of sorts when I "grow up." However, here's the conundrum... I never write. Not as much as i'd like to, anyway. So! In an attempt to write more, and hopefully, better my skills as I go, I am hereby placing a goal upon myself... An end-of-september resolution, if you will. I am going to attempt to write in my blog at LEAST twice a week. I will be discussing a range of subjects, from my inner thoughts about life, to what's going on in the world. I understand that there are few that will read what I post, and even more that could care less. This is for me. This is to take a favorite hobby of mine, and expound upon it. Here's hoping for the best!
New goal startingggggggg..... NOW! Let's see what happens, eh?
I have a secret to tell everybody that reads this thing they call a blog; I enjoy writing. Like, a lot. In fact, It's always been a dream within me to become a writer of sorts when I "grow up." However, here's the conundrum... I never write. Not as much as i'd like to, anyway. So! In an attempt to write more, and hopefully, better my skills as I go, I am hereby placing a goal upon myself... An end-of-september resolution, if you will. I am going to attempt to write in my blog at LEAST twice a week. I will be discussing a range of subjects, from my inner thoughts about life, to what's going on in the world. I understand that there are few that will read what I post, and even more that could care less. This is for me. This is to take a favorite hobby of mine, and expound upon it. Here's hoping for the best!
New goal startingggggggg..... NOW! Let's see what happens, eh?
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Mother's Day for an Adoptee....
"My Two Mothers.
One Gave Me The Gift Of Life.
The Other Gave That Life Meaning.
To Both, I am Forever Grateful."
-Lauren Loock
Live Gave Me The Gift Of You, My Mother
I have several Mothers in my life. However, there is only one that takes the cake. That is my mother, Debbie.
On this Mother's Day, I wanted to take a moment to write about how much she means to me.
My Mom is incredible. She has spent her life building a name for herself. Anyone and everyone that crosses her path instantly becomes her friend, and once you've become a friend of my Mother's you will be her friend till her dying day. She never forgets a face, and everyone is of value in her eyes.
My Mom is brilliant. She has worked hard her whole life, and continues to do so even to this day. She values hard work, and has thrived to teach her children the value of it as well.
Beauty doesn't even begin to describe my sweet Mother. She is gorgeous both inside and out and especially in how she conducts herself. However, I have to say her true beauty comes from her faith of the Gospel. I have never seen anyone with such strong morals as my Mom. She has a testimony and it radiates from her with every room she enters.
Humor is a big part of our household, and Deb is a part of that. When she is on a roll, you know it. She can have you laughing till you're blue in the face. Ask her sisters, or her close friends. She's a blast to have in any social situation.
Wisdom. My Mother has lived on this earth many years. And with each year she has gained wisdom galore. She often tries to give me advice backing it up with "I am older and wiser!" Even though I may roll my eyes at her, she definitely is right. She knows... just about everything, and is willing to talk through anything with you.
My Mom still sees me as her little girl. Which is incredible. When my day is bad, she will hold my hand and help me through it no matter my age or stage of life. On the other hand, she has seen me grow, and has allowed me to have space to spread my own wings, all while watching, guarding me from a distance.
Travel! One of my favorite things to do with my Mom is to travel. She knows the idea of a good time and has never been afraid to show her children this amazing world we live in.
I could go on forever about all that my Mom is. The list is endless. My Mother is extremely special to me. She didn't give birth to me physically. But she gave birth to me spiritually, mentally, morally, and every other aspect of life. She has raised me from a baby into the person I am today. Even though we didn't start out as each other's flesh and blood, I have grown to become a part of her very self. And I'm proud of that fact.
My Mom is a neat lady. You should meet her.
"Everything I am and hope to be, I owe to my Mother."
I love you!!
Sincerely,
Your Little Girl
On this Mother's Day, I wanted to take a moment to write about how much she means to me.
My Mom is incredible. She has spent her life building a name for herself. Anyone and everyone that crosses her path instantly becomes her friend, and once you've become a friend of my Mother's you will be her friend till her dying day. She never forgets a face, and everyone is of value in her eyes.
My Mom is brilliant. She has worked hard her whole life, and continues to do so even to this day. She values hard work, and has thrived to teach her children the value of it as well.
Beauty doesn't even begin to describe my sweet Mother. She is gorgeous both inside and out and especially in how she conducts herself. However, I have to say her true beauty comes from her faith of the Gospel. I have never seen anyone with such strong morals as my Mom. She has a testimony and it radiates from her with every room she enters.
Humor is a big part of our household, and Deb is a part of that. When she is on a roll, you know it. She can have you laughing till you're blue in the face. Ask her sisters, or her close friends. She's a blast to have in any social situation.
Wisdom. My Mother has lived on this earth many years. And with each year she has gained wisdom galore. She often tries to give me advice backing it up with "I am older and wiser!" Even though I may roll my eyes at her, she definitely is right. She knows... just about everything, and is willing to talk through anything with you.
My Mom still sees me as her little girl. Which is incredible. When my day is bad, she will hold my hand and help me through it no matter my age or stage of life. On the other hand, she has seen me grow, and has allowed me to have space to spread my own wings, all while watching, guarding me from a distance.
Travel! One of my favorite things to do with my Mom is to travel. She knows the idea of a good time and has never been afraid to show her children this amazing world we live in.
I could go on forever about all that my Mom is. The list is endless. My Mother is extremely special to me. She didn't give birth to me physically. But she gave birth to me spiritually, mentally, morally, and every other aspect of life. She has raised me from a baby into the person I am today. Even though we didn't start out as each other's flesh and blood, I have grown to become a part of her very self. And I'm proud of that fact.
My Mom is a neat lady. You should meet her.
"Everything I am and hope to be, I owe to my Mother."
I love you!!
Sincerely,
Your Little Girl
Friday, May 10, 2013
Marynn; The Sister I Finally Have
I always wanted a sister. It's so simple yet so complex because, well, life gave me a brother. Don't get me wrong, my brother is a wonderful and amazing person, but he lacked the sisterly qualities I longed for. I had dreams of sharing clothes, doing hair, talking about boys... all that cliche stuff. But, again, I grew up with a boy. His idea of a good time was dead arms, pelting me with snowballs, and ohhh the endless teasing. Memories I wouldn't trade for anything.
I still wanted a sister. Maybe it wouldn't be all peaches and cream like my dreams made it out to be, but I would have a little more of my life complete. However, it's like I said, life gave me a brother.....
.....which actually turned out to work in my favor. You see, because life gave me a brother, in return, that brother gave me a sister. A sister-in-law to be exact. My brother, Spencer, found and married a beautiful, brilliant, and completely perfect sister for me. He gave me my sister-in-law, Marynn, and I can't thank him enough for that.
You may recall that I recently made contact with my half sister, Ashley. And although she is my true, blood related relative... She will never replace the spot that has forever been taken by Marynn; the sister I had always dreamed of.
Spencer and Mare have been married for 5 months now, and as time passes my dreams of my cliche sister have become more and more of a reality. I finally have that person to share clothes with (we both wear a size 8 shoe?! How perfect is that!) When we have down time, we discover new ways of braiding or talk hair tips to no end. And, last but not least, I have a 24/7 hotline for all the boy talk my heart could desire. The age gap between Marynn and myself is only about a year and a half so we are able to connect on many similar levels. Being the popular, bubbly, gorgeous girl she is, she definitely has her fair share of advice when it comes to the dating game and finding "the one." I am constantly impressed with how much she sincerely cares about what is going on with me.
Marynn, although related by marriage, has quickly become nothing less than a blood-sister to me. I am extremely blessed to have her in my life, and look forward to the several years to come. Want to know a secret? My future nieces and nephews are going to have the best mom ever. I couldn't of picked a better person to raise a family, and I look forward for that chapter of life to unfold someday. Until then, I will remain completely and perfectly satisfied for the sister I always dreamed of. Soon 5 months will turn into 5 years, and then 15 years, 'till before we know it we are old and grey. And I can only hope that 50 years from now we will still be the pals we are now. No no... we will still be the SISTERS we are now.
I love you, Mare. Thanks for quickly becoming such an important part of my life.
I still wanted a sister. Maybe it wouldn't be all peaches and cream like my dreams made it out to be, but I would have a little more of my life complete. However, it's like I said, life gave me a brother.....
.....which actually turned out to work in my favor. You see, because life gave me a brother, in return, that brother gave me a sister. A sister-in-law to be exact. My brother, Spencer, found and married a beautiful, brilliant, and completely perfect sister for me. He gave me my sister-in-law, Marynn, and I can't thank him enough for that.
You may recall that I recently made contact with my half sister, Ashley. And although she is my true, blood related relative... She will never replace the spot that has forever been taken by Marynn; the sister I had always dreamed of.
Spencer and Mare have been married for 5 months now, and as time passes my dreams of my cliche sister have become more and more of a reality. I finally have that person to share clothes with (we both wear a size 8 shoe?! How perfect is that!) When we have down time, we discover new ways of braiding or talk hair tips to no end. And, last but not least, I have a 24/7 hotline for all the boy talk my heart could desire. The age gap between Marynn and myself is only about a year and a half so we are able to connect on many similar levels. Being the popular, bubbly, gorgeous girl she is, she definitely has her fair share of advice when it comes to the dating game and finding "the one." I am constantly impressed with how much she sincerely cares about what is going on with me.
Marynn, although related by marriage, has quickly become nothing less than a blood-sister to me. I am extremely blessed to have her in my life, and look forward to the several years to come. Want to know a secret? My future nieces and nephews are going to have the best mom ever. I couldn't of picked a better person to raise a family, and I look forward for that chapter of life to unfold someday. Until then, I will remain completely and perfectly satisfied for the sister I always dreamed of. Soon 5 months will turn into 5 years, and then 15 years, 'till before we know it we are old and grey. And I can only hope that 50 years from now we will still be the pals we are now. No no... we will still be the SISTERS we are now.
I love you, Mare. Thanks for quickly becoming such an important part of my life.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Tradition.... TRADITION!!!!
Guess who has jumped back on the stage... This girl. Right here. I haven't been under the stage light since, man, 2011 when I was in Anything Goes at the good ol' Centerpoint Theatre. True to form, I auditioned for a few shows in between. Little Women, The Drowsy Chaperone, Into the Woods... to name a few. However, being the callback queen comes with a price. You only ever get callbacks and never make the show. Ok. Well I take that back. I actually DID make Into the Woods and was cast as Little Red.... awww but don't you love community theatre? The whole show fell apart before it even began. So I think it's safe to say I had a bit of a dry spell. Although, I did feel some accomplishment as I DID get called back for fairly substantial roles, which, turns out isn't all that great if you don't make the show. period. Oh well.
I had pretty well given up completely. It was fun while it lasted, eh? Well, I had made a deal with my Mom that if she paid for me to take voice lessons from Holly Jo, that I had to audition for a show. Again. Ugh! I wasn't ready to get yet another callback, get my hopes up, then get shot down. It's hard on the soul. Besides, the only thing coming up was Fiddler on the Rood at CPT. Bleh. I had never seen the show, and had no desire to do so, let alone BE in it. It just seemed so... blah. Well It wasn't until 2 days before auditions that something inside me said, "Laaaauren.. DO IT! AUDITION! You know you waaaaannnnt to....."
"But, but, but..." I objected. Obviously the voice in side me won because before I knew it I was on my computer begging for a time with late notice. I got one. I quickly pulled together a song. Threw on a skirt. And away I went.
I had originally put down that I'd take any of the sisters. I'd figured that was where I was most likely to end up because of my age, height, etc. I was still debating taking ensemble which makes me sound like such a diva. I hate people like that. But I was leaning that way anyway.
Well surprise surprise, I got a callback!! Whooo! But not for a sister. Oh no. I got called back for Fruma Sarah....?
Who in the world?
After some research I discovered that Fruma Sarah is a strong voiced, frightening, powerful dead woman who pretty much belts her lungs somewhere in Act 1 of the show. Pretty much, she is awesome. And also she is right up my ally way! So... I started to get excited... I got my hopes up which I should never do... But I did.
Went to callbacks. Had to go a bit late due to my last day working the box office at that very theatre (Thank the heavens!) Sang last. Belted it out, red faced and as terrifying as possible. I must of nailed it because...
I GOT THE PART!!!! You are looking at Fruma Sarah in CPT's production of Fiddler On The Roof. Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday cast, if you're interested. Rehearsals have already started and it's actually turning out to be quite a bit of fun. I'm excited to work through it and put it on the stage. I'm excited for the biggest role i've had to date, and to only go up from this point.
Maybe my dry spell is finally over? One can hope.
I had pretty well given up completely. It was fun while it lasted, eh? Well, I had made a deal with my Mom that if she paid for me to take voice lessons from Holly Jo, that I had to audition for a show. Again. Ugh! I wasn't ready to get yet another callback, get my hopes up, then get shot down. It's hard on the soul. Besides, the only thing coming up was Fiddler on the Rood at CPT. Bleh. I had never seen the show, and had no desire to do so, let alone BE in it. It just seemed so... blah. Well It wasn't until 2 days before auditions that something inside me said, "Laaaauren.. DO IT! AUDITION! You know you waaaaannnnt to....."
"But, but, but..." I objected. Obviously the voice in side me won because before I knew it I was on my computer begging for a time with late notice. I got one. I quickly pulled together a song. Threw on a skirt. And away I went.
I had originally put down that I'd take any of the sisters. I'd figured that was where I was most likely to end up because of my age, height, etc. I was still debating taking ensemble which makes me sound like such a diva. I hate people like that. But I was leaning that way anyway.
Well surprise surprise, I got a callback!! Whooo! But not for a sister. Oh no. I got called back for Fruma Sarah....?
Who in the world?
After some research I discovered that Fruma Sarah is a strong voiced, frightening, powerful dead woman who pretty much belts her lungs somewhere in Act 1 of the show. Pretty much, she is awesome. And also she is right up my ally way! So... I started to get excited... I got my hopes up which I should never do... But I did.
Went to callbacks. Had to go a bit late due to my last day working the box office at that very theatre (Thank the heavens!) Sang last. Belted it out, red faced and as terrifying as possible. I must of nailed it because...
I GOT THE PART!!!! You are looking at Fruma Sarah in CPT's production of Fiddler On The Roof. Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday cast, if you're interested. Rehearsals have already started and it's actually turning out to be quite a bit of fun. I'm excited to work through it and put it on the stage. I'm excited for the biggest role i've had to date, and to only go up from this point.
Maybe my dry spell is finally over? One can hope.
 |
| Can ya picture it? :) |
Monday, April 29, 2013
Hobby Hobby Hobby
So I have a hobby. I like to put videos together. Sometimes they turn out pretty cool. Like this one that I made for my cousin's ambassador admission at the U of U. Enjoy!
Distressed and Disgusting
The memories I made in High School are countless. I could laugh for hours on end at the crazy, odd, and hilarious things I did with my friends. The problem is that I am finding that I really wish I would've written down a lot of my memories because they are fading from my mind which is the last thing I want. We are all grown up and moving on now, but I never want to forget the fun I had growing up with some of the greatest friends life could've offered me.
Today I'd like to share with you one of my high school memoirs. A) Because I really want to write this one down so I can read it 20 years from now and laugh just as hard as ever. and B) To share it with all of you because it really is a crazy, odd, hilarious, and might I add disgusting moment that has made me laugh still to this day.
Let's rewind to Junior year.... The second to last day of school....
It was a beautiful, gorgeous day. Just how you always picture your last days of school would be; The sun was shining, birds singing... you know, all those crazy cliches that you image. The day started much like any other day with the students assembling in the commons, covered in spring colors and wearing shorts much to their pleasure. As a junior I was part of the Chorale choir which happened to meet this particular day. We all entered the choir room, took our seats, and waited for our teacher, Ms. M, to come give us instruction. The feel in the air was different. Was this the moment she was going to announce the following year's school musical*?
*Side Story: We were all anxiously waiting to hear what Ms. M would be directing for our senior year. She had planned to tell us the end of Junior year so that we could be prepared. We were choir geeks... we lived for this stuff.
Ms. M walked in, and the class held their breath as she said, "Boys, start growing your hair out, because we are going to be doing THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL next year!!!" And the crowd went wild!!!! We had hoped and prayed, but there were the words we were waiting to hear. So excited to be performing the beautiful, and genius musical, The Scarlet Pimpernel. (I'm telling you. We were the extreme definition of choir geeks.)
Well the day continued on. A bunch of us piled in a car and decided to go to Dicks Market for lunch. Who could pass up a daily special complete with lots of fry sauce? We ate, we laughed, we joked, and we headed back to our final class of the day. I don't even remember what class I had at the end of that day... I don't remember because I never did go...
Nope, instead of going to class, I headed with my best friend, Chase, to Bountiful Music to buy, you guessed it, the music to the Scarlet Pimpernel. Obviously more important than school. Well we took our new purchase back to the school and decided to still not go back to class. Instead we got our stuff together and met ever so randomly at a garbage can by the Drivers Ed room. Why? I couldn't tell you at the time. Now it is much clearer.
So there Chase and I sat discussing the end of school, the summer, but most importantly, the announcement of the new musical while excitingly flipping through our new book. When all of the sudden I looked down the hall only to find my other bestie, Sam, hurrying towards us.
She was white as a ghost.
She was urgent.
She had her hand over her mouth.
She was going to puke.
Now, for those of you who know me, you know that I am a huge phobic of throwing up and anyone in the process. When I see the signs of a puker, my fight or flight response says, "Lauren get the HECK OUT OF HERE!"
Well here came Sam with ever so obvious signs of my fears coming true. Not to mention our pal Shelby racing along side of her telling us to move quickly away from the garbage can. Which you can bet I did. As fast as my feet would move.
There was just one problem with this picture.
Chase had his back turned to the urgency quickly coming towards him. He must of seen the horror in my face because he kept saying, "Lauren? Lauren what's wrong? Lauren?" But before I could answer I was booking it down to the far end of the hall, still watching from a distance where I saw my fears unfolding on Chase as Sam threw up on his back on her way to the trash can.
The happiness and joy of the second to last day quickly was gone on Chase's face as he exclaimed, "Wh...whhh...whhhaat....WHAT IS ON ME!" Only to turn to his left and see our close friend hurling her daily special all over the place.
I might of added Chase is a bit of a throw up phobic too...
Chase, in shock, slowly headed my way covered in an unspeakable substance. He looked over himself, then looked up at me, and ever so desperately said... "Lauren. Help. Me."
And again, Fight or Flight kicked in and I was OFF! There I was racing down the hallways of school in session, followed closely by my vomit covered best friend pleading for my help. I wanted so badly to be the loving, nurturing person to either one of my friends in need, but when fear kicks in... it's hard to get rid of. I didn't know what to do! It was a blur!
There is one person in the world who ALWAYS knows what to do. That was my dear Jeremy, who was also Sam's boyfriend at the time. I didn't know how he could help, I just knew that he could help better than I could. He was in French class at the time, so I calmly went in and asked the teacher if I could borrow him for a moment. She agreed and out in the hall he came where I quickly raced through the important parts..
"Sam!! Throwing up! All over Chase! HELP!"
It was then that Sam turned down one end of the hall, distressed and disgusting. And here Chase came on the other end of the hall... also distressed and disgusting. I was about to be in a distressed, disgusting, friend sandwich. So again I bolted down the hall! Chase following close behind. We were both in shock. In hindsight, Chase should've headed to the bathroom to clean up, and I should've assisted... but we obviously weren't thinking straight as we frantically ran down the halls. I had to get away from him but where?!
So I did the best thing I could think of. I ducked into some random classroom. A room full of students looking at me in confusion as to why I was out of breath, and panting. I quickly said... oh don't mind me, and took my place in a desk in the front row. I believe it was sophomore english, so I was very much out of place. I took cover in the safety of the classroom for long enough for Chase to realize he needed to head to the bathroom, Jeremy to help Sam, and everyone to live happily ever after. Once I deemed it safe, I headed again to the hall where Chase was still standing there! Outside the classroom! Still exclaiming "Help me!!"
It was the never ending nightmare. In the end, Chase got cleaned up. Sam gave her stomach bug to her brother who puked in a trash can at school the next day. Jeremy still wondered why I pulled him out of french class. And we all lived happily ever after.
Now we look back and laugh about it for hours on end. Chase still has trouble forgiving me for running from him in his time of need. The best part of the whole thing is the timing of it all.
Chase and I had not gotten to the school 5 minutes before it all happened.
We had randomly decided to meet by some random trash can that wasn't near either of our classes.
It just happened to be our closest friend who was frantically running down the hall.
Lucky for Sam she threw up on someone she knew instead of some random shmuck she didn't know.
Shelby stood by Sam's side holding back her hair and rubbing her back the whole time.
Jeremy just happened to be in a class that I easily could pull him out of
It was just one of those moments I'll never forget. I remember it like it was yesterday. Little did our peers sitting anxiously in class know what was happening just beyond their doors. It brought us all together in its own unique way. What did I learn from this experience? Well, to when your friend asks why you're running down the hall, to tell him. If you don't do that, the least you could do is take a wet towel to him and help clean him up a bit.
Until next time :)
THE PLAYERS
Today I'd like to share with you one of my high school memoirs. A) Because I really want to write this one down so I can read it 20 years from now and laugh just as hard as ever. and B) To share it with all of you because it really is a crazy, odd, hilarious, and might I add disgusting moment that has made me laugh still to this day.
Let's rewind to Junior year.... The second to last day of school....
It was a beautiful, gorgeous day. Just how you always picture your last days of school would be; The sun was shining, birds singing... you know, all those crazy cliches that you image. The day started much like any other day with the students assembling in the commons, covered in spring colors and wearing shorts much to their pleasure. As a junior I was part of the Chorale choir which happened to meet this particular day. We all entered the choir room, took our seats, and waited for our teacher, Ms. M, to come give us instruction. The feel in the air was different. Was this the moment she was going to announce the following year's school musical*?
*Side Story: We were all anxiously waiting to hear what Ms. M would be directing for our senior year. She had planned to tell us the end of Junior year so that we could be prepared. We were choir geeks... we lived for this stuff.
Ms. M walked in, and the class held their breath as she said, "Boys, start growing your hair out, because we are going to be doing THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL next year!!!" And the crowd went wild!!!! We had hoped and prayed, but there were the words we were waiting to hear. So excited to be performing the beautiful, and genius musical, The Scarlet Pimpernel. (I'm telling you. We were the extreme definition of choir geeks.)
Well the day continued on. A bunch of us piled in a car and decided to go to Dicks Market for lunch. Who could pass up a daily special complete with lots of fry sauce? We ate, we laughed, we joked, and we headed back to our final class of the day. I don't even remember what class I had at the end of that day... I don't remember because I never did go...
Nope, instead of going to class, I headed with my best friend, Chase, to Bountiful Music to buy, you guessed it, the music to the Scarlet Pimpernel. Obviously more important than school. Well we took our new purchase back to the school and decided to still not go back to class. Instead we got our stuff together and met ever so randomly at a garbage can by the Drivers Ed room. Why? I couldn't tell you at the time. Now it is much clearer.
So there Chase and I sat discussing the end of school, the summer, but most importantly, the announcement of the new musical while excitingly flipping through our new book. When all of the sudden I looked down the hall only to find my other bestie, Sam, hurrying towards us.
She was white as a ghost.
She was urgent.
She had her hand over her mouth.
She was going to puke.
Now, for those of you who know me, you know that I am a huge phobic of throwing up and anyone in the process. When I see the signs of a puker, my fight or flight response says, "Lauren get the HECK OUT OF HERE!"
Well here came Sam with ever so obvious signs of my fears coming true. Not to mention our pal Shelby racing along side of her telling us to move quickly away from the garbage can. Which you can bet I did. As fast as my feet would move.
There was just one problem with this picture.
Chase had his back turned to the urgency quickly coming towards him. He must of seen the horror in my face because he kept saying, "Lauren? Lauren what's wrong? Lauren?" But before I could answer I was booking it down to the far end of the hall, still watching from a distance where I saw my fears unfolding on Chase as Sam threw up on his back on her way to the trash can.
The happiness and joy of the second to last day quickly was gone on Chase's face as he exclaimed, "Wh...whhh...whhhaat....WHAT IS ON ME!" Only to turn to his left and see our close friend hurling her daily special all over the place.
I might of added Chase is a bit of a throw up phobic too...
Chase, in shock, slowly headed my way covered in an unspeakable substance. He looked over himself, then looked up at me, and ever so desperately said... "Lauren. Help. Me."
And again, Fight or Flight kicked in and I was OFF! There I was racing down the hallways of school in session, followed closely by my vomit covered best friend pleading for my help. I wanted so badly to be the loving, nurturing person to either one of my friends in need, but when fear kicks in... it's hard to get rid of. I didn't know what to do! It was a blur!
There is one person in the world who ALWAYS knows what to do. That was my dear Jeremy, who was also Sam's boyfriend at the time. I didn't know how he could help, I just knew that he could help better than I could. He was in French class at the time, so I calmly went in and asked the teacher if I could borrow him for a moment. She agreed and out in the hall he came where I quickly raced through the important parts..
"Sam!! Throwing up! All over Chase! HELP!"
It was then that Sam turned down one end of the hall, distressed and disgusting. And here Chase came on the other end of the hall... also distressed and disgusting. I was about to be in a distressed, disgusting, friend sandwich. So again I bolted down the hall! Chase following close behind. We were both in shock. In hindsight, Chase should've headed to the bathroom to clean up, and I should've assisted... but we obviously weren't thinking straight as we frantically ran down the halls. I had to get away from him but where?!
So I did the best thing I could think of. I ducked into some random classroom. A room full of students looking at me in confusion as to why I was out of breath, and panting. I quickly said... oh don't mind me, and took my place in a desk in the front row. I believe it was sophomore english, so I was very much out of place. I took cover in the safety of the classroom for long enough for Chase to realize he needed to head to the bathroom, Jeremy to help Sam, and everyone to live happily ever after. Once I deemed it safe, I headed again to the hall where Chase was still standing there! Outside the classroom! Still exclaiming "Help me!!"
It was the never ending nightmare. In the end, Chase got cleaned up. Sam gave her stomach bug to her brother who puked in a trash can at school the next day. Jeremy still wondered why I pulled him out of french class. And we all lived happily ever after.
Now we look back and laugh about it for hours on end. Chase still has trouble forgiving me for running from him in his time of need. The best part of the whole thing is the timing of it all.
Chase and I had not gotten to the school 5 minutes before it all happened.
We had randomly decided to meet by some random trash can that wasn't near either of our classes.
It just happened to be our closest friend who was frantically running down the hall.
Lucky for Sam she threw up on someone she knew instead of some random shmuck she didn't know.
Shelby stood by Sam's side holding back her hair and rubbing her back the whole time.
Jeremy just happened to be in a class that I easily could pull him out of
It was just one of those moments I'll never forget. I remember it like it was yesterday. Little did our peers sitting anxiously in class know what was happening just beyond their doors. It brought us all together in its own unique way. What did I learn from this experience? Well, to when your friend asks why you're running down the hall, to tell him. If you don't do that, the least you could do is take a wet towel to him and help clean him up a bit.
Until next time :)
THE PLAYERS
 |
| Samantha, the sick one |
 |
| Poor Chase... |
 |
| Jeremy, the problem solver |
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Summer is Coming!
With Summer just around the bend, it's about time I stop eating like a cow and try a little harder. Shed my "winter coat" if you will. Now, I have a tendency of making goals in personal fitness and diet... and failing miserably. SO! I figured that if I put it in my blog, I'd have something in writing to refer to. And, for those 3 of you who might stumble upon this, you can hold me to it, eh? ;)
Starting full swing as of March 1st, I am cutting out the following completely:
However, I'm doing this with one exception. As to not go stir crazy the next few weeks, I'm allowing myself ONE guilty pleasure a week. And my guilty pleasure of choice is a nice, cold Throwback Mountain Dew.... mmmm :) Just one a week. At most, even. Only if I'm having a hard one and really need it.
In addition to my food cut, I'm going to hold myself to going to the Gym at LEAST 3 times a week, and to take Tip on a nice long walk on the other days.
How long am I doing this, do you ask? Well forever would be the ideal answer. However, I can't make a promise I can't keep so we're going to start out small. I will be doing this challenge until, drum roll please......
Aka, my birthday :) So watch out on that day. I will definitely be needing a big, chocolaty birthday cake. I can't believe I'm so close to not being a teenager anymore... Hallelujah to turning 20!
So, readers, hold me to this! I'm ending my winter binge! Hopefully, though, this time of "fasting" will create some good summer habits for me to hold onto. My goal is to go shopping and go a little crazy for some hot summer clothes. Can I do it?! Sure. Why not.
Now, if we could please take a moment of silence in tribute to the following:
Starting full swing as of March 1st, I am cutting out the following completely:
-Ice Cream
-Cake
-Cookies
-Candy
-Brownies
-Soda
-Fast Food
-And any other unnecessary fatty food
However, I'm doing this with one exception. As to not go stir crazy the next few weeks, I'm allowing myself ONE guilty pleasure a week. And my guilty pleasure of choice is a nice, cold Throwback Mountain Dew.... mmmm :) Just one a week. At most, even. Only if I'm having a hard one and really need it.
In addition to my food cut, I'm going to hold myself to going to the Gym at LEAST 3 times a week, and to take Tip on a nice long walk on the other days.
How long am I doing this, do you ask? Well forever would be the ideal answer. However, I can't make a promise I can't keep so we're going to start out small. I will be doing this challenge until, drum roll please......
APRIL 19, 2013
Aka, my birthday :) So watch out on that day. I will definitely be needing a big, chocolaty birthday cake. I can't believe I'm so close to not being a teenager anymore... Hallelujah to turning 20!
So, readers, hold me to this! I'm ending my winter binge! Hopefully, though, this time of "fasting" will create some good summer habits for me to hold onto. My goal is to go shopping and go a little crazy for some hot summer clothes. Can I do it?! Sure. Why not.
Now, if we could please take a moment of silence in tribute to the following:
Thank you.
Here goes nothing!
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
The Bump
WARNING*WARNING*WARNING*WARNING
PART OF THIS STORY IS JUST PLAIN DISGUSTING
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED
Meet Tip.
As most of you probably know, Tip is my 1 year old Australian Shepherd/Blue Heeler pup. He's pretty much my best friend, child, and love all mixed into one. Call me crazy, but it's true.
Well! When I got Tip, he had the tiniest little bump on his head. I didn't think much of it, and decided it was probably just a mole of sorts and wasn't worried. However, being the concerned mother I am, I had mentioned it to the Vet who told me it was probably just a cyst that he was born with and wouldn't help nor hurt him. No harm done.
Many months went by and the bump was still there. Still not a problem. The fur around it would get a little crusty every now and again, and the dog groom would just snip it off. No big deal. Although, I noticed that it was getting bigger. Not by much, but bigger nonetheless.
The Presidents Day weekend came. We went to Sunny St. George with the Walkenhorst clan, and had a great time. Near the beginning of the trip I noticed the fur around the bump getting crusty again. I decided to clip it like the groomer does, but made a weird cut which revealed the bump greatly. This was no small, mole-like bump anymore. This was a small boulder. The bump had gotten huge! It didn't seem to bother him, but man was it nasty to look at and even worse to touch.
Besides, the dogs at the dog park were making fun of him...
 |
| This was a shot I took on the way home from St. George. See the bump on the left of his head there? The picture doesn't even do it justice. |
I was concerned about this bump. Naturally i thought the worse and wanted to get him checked out ASAP! With the Holiday and everything, I had to quite a few days before getting him into the vet.
Tip loves the car. But for some reason, It was like he KNEW we were going to see the doctor. Tip was agitated to a point between barking and whining. He was chattering. I couldn't explain it, so I took a short video to show what was happening.
WARNING*WARNING*WARNING*WARNING*WARNING*WARNING*WARNING*
THIS NEXT PART IS GRAPHIC AND DISGUSTING.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!
So we picked up my friend, Reid, because I knew I would need reinforcements. And away we went. We arrived to the Vet in a pretty routine manner, checked in, went back to the exam room and waited for the vet to come in. Tip was a nervous wreck. So was I. Lucky we had Reid to keep everyone calm.
The vet came in, and Tip hid in between Reid's legs, under the bench while the vet fought to examine him. We finally decided to lift all 60 lbs of him up on the metal table so she could get a better look. It started off ok with the vet and her assistant holding him down while she looked him over.
Then Tip started to realize what was happening and, like the fidgety child he is, he tried to bolt. I jumped to motion and held his rump on the table, the assistant held his body and mouth, the vet poked and prodded the questionable lump.
When all of the sudden the vet said, "you have GOT to be kidding me."
She grabbed a pair of tweezers, ordered Reid to grab a paper towel, and proceeded to pull out what was causing the ugly, large lump.
An ingrown hair.
Honestly? That giant bump for an ingrown hair?! The vet continued to poke at it, opening a hole large enough to SQUEEZE out the nastiest, brownish, yellowish, gooey puss i'd ever seen.
Disgusting right? Then she pulled out ANOTHER ingrown hair. And another. And another. The poor dog had a clump of about 50 strands of hair growing inside this lump! Now we know why it got so incredibly large, eh?
Tip did well at the beginning. Then he started to realize that this lady was tearing up his skin, and he didn't like it. He began to squirm and cry like i'd never seen. We opted to have Reid take my place holding down his rump, so that I could go to his face to comfort and relax him. This gave me front row seat to the pussy, hairy, bloody crater on top of my puppy's head.
For the next HALF HOUR we sat there trying to console the poor mutt while she pulled out hair after hair, followed by a nice big SQUEEZE of yummy puss, milkshake like substance. At one point Tip had had enough and hurled his body into Reid's arms. Finally we decided to try the floor again.
So the four of us lifted this anxious dog and laid him down on the ground where he was an agitated mess. So agitated that he bit me, he bit her, and was just trying to get away. I could see the pain in my dogs eyes, and he was just desperate for something to bite, so I took his leash and put it in his mouth.
It was like a binky for him. He relaxed as he sucked and chewed on his leash. Well he must of really been in pain, and must of really been nervous because THIS is what happened to the leash:
So there we were. The Vet, her assistant, Reid, myself, and of course, the bloody, puss covered dog. All on the floor trying to keep down our breakfast. It was right about then that the vet told me that in her years of working, this was only the SECOND case of an ingrown hair problem she'd ever seen!!
They are rare. Tip is just one of those lucky dogs with genes that love to attack him. And my pocket book. And, she said it was more than likely that it'd come back again and if that's the case, that we should do surgery to remove the area. Donations are appreciated.
No hair appointment for me this month...
I asked the vet if his fur would grow back right there. Her answer? Hopefully it should.
Comforting.
Do they make hats for dogs?
In hindsight, I probably shouldn't of gotten arbys sauce with my lunch today. It reminded me far too much of my journey at the vet. :)
Friday, February 1, 2013
Part 6...Ashley
Part 6
My Sister
Let's do a quick recap. Almost 2 years ago, I found my biological Dad and his family. 13 months after that, I found my birth mom. 2 months after that, I journeyed to Canada to meet said Father. 2 months after that, said Mother came to Utah to visit me. Whilst here, the good ol' Birth Mom gave me the phone number of my half sister, Ashley.
So, as you can see, I had had incredible success thus far. So I figured I had nothing to lose... I called Ashley. No answer. I texted Ashley. No response. Welp, there goes my success. I felt a bit defeated, but had to put myself in Ashley's shoes. She hadn't even known that I existed, and here I was, out of no where, contacting her. Where I had a year and half to take everything in, this was all happening in the moment for her. She was at the start of the journey, in shoes that I had once been in myself. So, I gave my dear sister the benefit of the doubt and told myself that she'll text me when she was good and ready.
So that was early October. Days went by. Weeks went by. When suddenly it was Thanksgiving. As I posted on here all that I was thankful for, I couldn't help but think of my sister. Sure, I'd never met her. Sure, I'd only ever seen a picture of her when she was 5. But, again, there was something deep inside of me that had so much love and care for her.
I decided to text her again.
I told her simply that I was thankful for her, and that I understood if she didn't want anything to do with me, but that she was still my sister and I was there for her.
Again, I got nothing. Until the next week.
I was sitting in a work meeting at the elementary school when my phone vibrated. I thought nothing of it and left it alone in my pocket. But then it vibrated again, and again, and AGAIN! I realized that someone was probably dead or dying so I looked. My heart leaped out of my chest. It was Ashley. It was my sister.
I hurried out of my meeting and quickly wrote her back with tears in my eyes. Again, I felt the blessings of my life pouring out directly in front of my eyes.
I have spent the last couple of months getting to know my older sister :) And let me tell you... She is amazing. She is beautiful, she is nice, she is smart, but most importantly... she has been golden at taking care of me, her little sister. This girl has 'big shoulders' and knows what's important in her life. I admire her in so many ways, and I haven't even met her yet.
However, I saw this card today at the grocery store..
And it kind of broke my heart. Here I had a sister. A sister i had always dreamed of having. But here I am almost 20 years old and I didn't get all the great stores that sisters have together while they grow up. I didn't get the fun in sharing clothes. The boy advice. The teasing and fights. The girl's nights. Everything that I always pictured having a sister was like. Now, with her being 25, we are adults. Things aren't the same now as when I was a little girl. I missed out.
Then I opened the card and saw this:
And it hit me. No, I did not get the typical sisterly stories as I grew. Instead, Ashley's and mine story is unique in its own amazing way. She has always been my sister, even when I didn't know she existed. And now, I get the blessing of KNOWING her. We just had... a late start. But we are still young, healthy adults and I look forward to spending the rest of my life creating the memories that only sisters can have. It's been amazing so far, and I know it'll only become more amazing as I hope and pray for the day I get to meet her and give her the biggest hug ever.
Our story is a great one. A story that has made us stronger, both as individuals and as family. In fact, this has been a story making ALL my new family stronger. I didn't get them in the past, but you'd better believe i'm not letting them go anywhere for the future.
Pictures of my sister to come in the future... hopefully when I meet her... soon. :)
Peace out, kids!
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Seattle...
For those of you who know me, you know that I have a GIANT place in my heart for New York City. It's not just any old city. It's like something out of my dreams. I love New York and I always will.
But as far as settling down with my family some day... New York isn't it. I could see myself living there for a short time, yes, but not forever. No. My dream of forever is this place right here:
But as far as settling down with my family some day... New York isn't it. I could see myself living there for a short time, yes, but not forever. No. My dream of forever is this place right here:
Seattle, Washington!!
I love this place. According to businessweek.com it ranks as #2 to for the best city in America. I'm liking those odds.
I'm a city girl. I love the lights, the sounds, the good food, the history, the view... And Seattle has all of this. Plus RAIN!!!!! I love the rain. I love to get caught in the rain. I love to sit inside curled up watching the rain fall. I love making out in the rain. I love the smell of rain. I love how everything looks after rain.
Whether you're spending the day in historic Pike Place Market, or exploring the near by mountain ranges, you'll find that this city has something for everyone. And can I just say... the FOOD!!! With Seattle convientely located right near the pacific ocean, this is a seafood lovers dream. Which is me. I am a seafood lover. I can taste the fish and chips now!
And if all this isn't enough for you, It's just a hop skip and a jump from my Home and Native Land ;)
I'm a city girl. I love the lights, the sounds, the good food, the history, the view... And Seattle has all of this. Plus RAIN!!!!! I love the rain. I love to get caught in the rain. I love to sit inside curled up watching the rain fall. I love making out in the rain. I love the smell of rain. I love how everything looks after rain.
Whether you're spending the day in historic Pike Place Market, or exploring the near by mountain ranges, you'll find that this city has something for everyone. And can I just say... the FOOD!!! With Seattle convientely located right near the pacific ocean, this is a seafood lovers dream. Which is me. I am a seafood lover. I can taste the fish and chips now!
And if all this isn't enough for you, It's just a hop skip and a jump from my Home and Native Land ;)
So anyway. I have Seattle on the brain today. Someday i'll live here. Someday...
My Beautiful Seattle.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
"My Children"
I'd like you to meet "My Children."
They're not really my children. They are my cousins' children. But I sure do love em!!
I love playing with them. Laughing. Riding rides at Disneyland. Eating good food.
I love watching them grow up!
Meet Landen, Ella, Reese, Tessa, and Ryland.
I'd like you to meet the newest member of my posse.
They're not really my children. They are my cousins' children. But I sure do love em!!
I love playing with them. Laughing. Riding rides at Disneyland. Eating good food.
I love watching them grow up!
Meet Landen, Ella, Reese, Tessa, and Ryland.
 |
| Landen, Reese, Moi, Ella |
 |
| Cruella, Me, Ry Ry |
 |
| Me and Lando |
 |
| Tessa, Reese, Ryland |
 |
| Reese, Ella, Me, Mickey |
Meet Quinn.
And before long, she'll be running around with the rest of them. I'm looking forward to a mess of good memories with little Quinn just like i've had the pleasure of having with the rest of them.
We'll be riding Heimlich the caterpillar at Disneyland before I know it.
Love my cousins. Love my cousins kids. I'm a lucky girl.
Faith, Adoption, The Gospel
I was asked by a gal I work with if I could write, in a page, my experience of finding my birth parents so that she might read it in her Relief Society lesson this Sunday. The logistics of my adoption have ups and downs, but in the mean time my testimony has grown immensely. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and I love it. I consider myself to be fairly religious and have found myself leaning upon my faith more than usual the past couple of years. So this is a little bit about how prayer and prayer and faith helped me do one of the hardest things in the world, which, in return, humbled and strengthened my spirit:
I was raised in your ideal LDS home, with a Mom, a Dad, an older brother, and countless family pets. I grew up with a life and family that fit me perfect, but there was something about me that differed me from the rest; I was adopted. I had known I was adopted my entire life, and ate up every bit of information my Mom and Dad would give me as I continued to grow. I learned several different tid-bits growing up, but the most important thing I learned, as a young child, was that my biological Dad had a sister who was a member of the Church, and it was because of her influence that I was sent to Utah to be raised by a LDS family as well.
I was raised in your ideal LDS home, with a Mom, a Dad, an older brother, and countless family pets. I grew up with a life and family that fit me perfect, but there was something about me that differed me from the rest; I was adopted. I had known I was adopted my entire life, and ate up every bit of information my Mom and Dad would give me as I continued to grow. I learned several different tid-bits growing up, but the most important thing I learned, as a young child, was that my biological Dad had a sister who was a member of the Church, and it was because of her influence that I was sent to Utah to be raised by a LDS family as well.
Knowing that fact strengthened my faith and ultimately prepared me for what was to come on my 18th birthday.
Along with knowing more about my adoption came the innate feeling to know the woman that gave birth to me. I loved my Mom and Dad, but still had it deep within me to meet, know, or at least see a picture of my birth mother. My parents promised for as long as I could remember that the day of my 18th birthday they would tell me all I knew. That day I got the papers of my adoption. I read over the piece of paper explaining the height, weight, eye color, and many other traits of both my parents. I even read that I had sister! However, there weren't any names, or pictures. Then my Mother assured me of something she had discovered. Within the papers was the name of that LDS Aunt that had influenced so much of my adoption. Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, my mother had found her blog, and in addition, her Facebook. I was in awe as I gazed over the pictures of my blood cousins and relatives. And my biological Grandparents. I had a choice to make as to whether or not I would write her a message on Facebook.
So I did the one thing I'd been taught over and over again growing up in the Church... I got on my knees, and I prayed. I asked my Father in Heaven what I should do. Did this Aunt want to hear from me? Would it be a joyous occasion, or would it be a major let down. I trusted my Heavenly Father. I know now, more than ever, that He watches out for me. Not only did he assure me that sending her a message would be a good thing, but I later found that he reassured this Aunt to OPEN the email. She was rather hesitant to get a message from a girl she had never met, but something told her to open it... And I know that something was the Holy Ghost. The next day, I read this response:
"Oh my dear Lauren, my prayers have so been answered. My mother would give her ALL to see her beautiful granddaughter."
My heart was racing.
She then continued on to say that she would tell me all that I wanted to know, and that there was a lot to tell. She also assured me that giving me away was one of the hardest things they'd ever faced as a family. After telling me that she, too, was here in Utah, she told me that she would often look for girls around my age. Looking for the Family look. The emotion I felt while reading this email exploded within me as I read the final words:
"Can't wait to meet you, see you, hug you!
Your Aunt,
Patsy"
Your Aunt,
Patsy"
From that moment on it was a blur of blessings. Messages back and forth to my Aunt eventually led to her giving me the number of my biological Dad. Here I was faced with another trial in front of me, so what did I do with the phone in my hand before I dialed? I prayed. I prayed, and prayed and PRAYED! Again, I was assured this was what I needed to do. So I called and I told my biological father, a father that had longed to know his little girl, that I was his. I was that little girl that he gave away 18 years ago.
I spent the next year and a half getting to know my biological Dad's family and meeting my Aunt and her family. And in July, I took a giant leap of faith by getting on a plane and flying to Nova Scotia, Canada to meet the man that gave me life. A nerve-wracking, trying, and completely fulfilling trip. Then, I found my Birthmom and the emotions and prayers began again and resulted in her coming to visit me the following October. By November, I was talking to my half sister.
The past year and a half has been an emotional roller coaster. Before I started this journey I was just your typical teenage girl. I hated school, I fought with my parents, I teased my brother. I knew the church was important to me and I had, what I thought, was a strong testimony. I thought that the hardest thing I would have to face to that point would be my driving test.
Boy was I wrong.
A year and a half later, two birth parents, wonderful grandparents, dozens of aunts and uncles, several cousins, and one big new family later... I realized just how blessed I was. This whole experience has tested me in more ways than I could imagine. I got diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I spent days wondering why I was born. I spent weeks feeling sorry for myself. I spent time wondering why my own mother wouldn't want me. I spent a lot of time on an emotional roller coaster that, I thought for sure, was spiraling downward. It was a lot of new stuff for a young girl from Bountiful Utah to take in.
Just when I thought I couldn't do anymore I found the 4 things in my life that picked me up: My faith, My testimony, prayer, and my parents. Many concerned faces, and many doubtful people assured me of their concerns that I would want to run away to Canada and live with my "real parents." Many people expressed that I would become distant from my adoptive parents and lose a sense of my self. There were many doubts, and there was much concern, but I am living proof that not what everyone thinks is true. My testimony grew as I realized how blessed I was to have been raised in the Church. I became closer to my Father in Heaven as I spent much time on my knees in prayer. I discovered incredible Faith I didn't know I had as I jumped on a plane and flew to another country to meet strange people I'd never met. But, most importantly, I held my Mom tighter and tighter as I became certain that, even though she didn't give birth to me as most moms do, she was, in fact the mother I was meant to have. She was with me as a young girl as I cried, and as I jumped for joy ... Although, I took all of that for granted until i turned 18 and, even as a young adult, she was with me while I cried, and jumped for joy as we both experienced the new reality of this new big family.
Since this has all happened, it hasn't all been great. In fact, this experience has been really hard. But if I could, would I go back and do it all again? My answer is absolutely! This was an experience that was hard. However, this was an experience that needed to happen. I learned a lot about myself, a lot about the people that I share blood with, and a lot about the family that have raised me for 20 years. I wouldn't change any of these people for the world. The most important thing about finding my biological family was, in fact, learning to lean on my Heavenly Father. He knew what would happen before I even came to earth, and I know, I KNOW that he wouldn't of faced me with these trials if he knew that I couldn't handle it. He has had his hand in my life from day one, and because of it, I have grown into the woman I am today. I have become the daughter of a King I deserve to be. I love this Gospel, and I love my family. Every. Last. One. Of. Them.
As my dad says:
There's no such thing as having too many people to love and be loved by.
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