{ gratitude }

It seems I’ll never stop learning this powerful lesson. As we sleep on a noisy, uncomfortable air mattress every night in a mostly empty apartment that desperately needs to be cleaned, I find myself so full of gratitude to be here, on an adventure of a lifetime with my very best friend in a city most people only dream of visiting. It’s crazy how very little material things really matter in the grand scheme of things. Not that I’m ungrateful for such things…they definitely make life easier. But for the next month, as we sleep on the floor, miss our vacuum and swiffer, try to find a way to make everything fit in this little studio, and slowly try to build our food supply, I’ll be feeling grateful for the life of convenience that I’ve always been so blessed to live. It’s nice to go without some things (even for just a month while you await the arrival of all your stuff) so that you can appreciate everything that you’ve always taken for granted. With these things in mind, I’m even more grateful for my marriage, because I know that no matter how much I may lose throughout my life, I get to keep James forever.

{ quirks. }

This is a funny city. Here’s what I’ve learned so far about San Francisco:

-More homeless people than I’ve ever seen. (I have a small fear of the homeless that I assure you is not irrational…)

-You have to pay for bags at every grocery store. And they’re all paper. (I’m all about recycling, but I wish I had known this before hitting up the grocery store for the first time.)

-It’s cold. Counterintuitive for August (or Fogust, as it’s called here). Half the time I’m begging for another sweater, half the time I’m sweating. Sheesh, I can’t keep up.

-You can almost always hear the trolley outside our window. As a result, this song is constantly stuck in my head.

-It feels like I climb mountains every time I venture outside. My butt better start looking chiseled…

-Gorgeous peeks at the ocean from almost anywhere.

-My love for Victorian style architecture is flourishing here!

-New York taxi drivers aren’t the only crazy ones.

-Everyone here seems very fit (hard not to be with all the hills and lack of parking).

-So. Many. Restaurants. If you’re a foodie like me, this is heaven! But it’s also not, because I can’t afford to try these places out. For now, it’s kind of torture, but I’m hoping that will change…

Obviously I still have lots more to learn and do and see. For a girl who was born and raised to love New York and all its glory, this has definitely been a new experience for me. James is so patient as I compare everything to how things are in New York (I miss the subway!)…but in all honestly, I think this could be the beginning of a very long and fruitful love affair with this city. It’s different, but that’s what I’m all about!

{ birthday! }

The husband spoiled me on our first birthday as a married couple. He knows what makes me happy, that’s for sure!

Let’s talk about mango lemonade, burritos as big as my head, Monsters University, long walks through the city, gelatos in Little Italy, oceanside views of Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge, more food, plenty of birthday kisses, no scary encounters with homeless people (always nice), donuts, gift card expenditure, the list goes on…

Most importantly, I got to spend the entire day with my favorite person. I didn’t even need to make a wish on those birthday candles.

{ san francisco }

Well, world, if you haven’t heard, James and I have relocated to San Francisco! The plan is to document our adventures in this happening city. We’ll see how it goes…in the five days we’ve been here, I’ve already seen two transvestites, smelled some of the nastiest smells known to man (welcome to Chinatown), and had a homeless man “shoot” me with his fingers (colorful sound effects and all). Not sure if I should be flattered or offended about that one.

Here in our tiny apartment in the middle of the city, anything could happen. Stay tuned. I’m sure there’s more to come!

{ the perfect day }

May 4^th 2013

It was the day I had been dreaming about since before I can remember.

Bright sun.

Perfect flowers.

A princess dress.

Precious loved ones smiling, hugging, and cheering.

Beautiful decorations.

Dancing.

Yummy food.

Laughter.

Bubbles, lots of bubbles…

But what I remember most is the feeling of perfect bliss that I couldn’t shake the entire day. I still can’t shake it. I don’t think I ever will. Everything could have gone wrong. It could have rained, my friends could have decided not to come, the food could have been disgusting, my dress could have ripped, and we could have gotten zero gifts, but it would have been okay. Because one way or another, on May 4th, I went to the temple, where I was sealed for time and all eternity to my very best friend and the sweetest, kindest, most talented, handsome, fun, and loving man I’ve ever known. Over three months later, I can still hardly believe how blessed I am.

He’s the best decision I’ve ever made.

…still getting used to being called Mrs. Pace, though…

Musings on Time (And Other Random Thoughts)

Mere moments ago, I discovered the true magnitude of my stupidity, as well as my complete lack of ability to learn from my mistakes. Let me explain: I had a solid paragraph of (what is this, a pitiful journal? Call it what you will…) well, this stuff, written, and I was just about to divulge the details of my major (and actually very anticlimactic) epiphany from last night, when I shifted in my chair and managed to nudge the power cord of my computer just enough to disconnect the whole thing. Honest mistake, you may think, but considering the fact that this is at least the tenth time I’ve done this in the span of a month, I come out of this story feeling all the more retarded. I digress…

            So now I find myself right where I began twenty minutes ago, before my little debacle with the cord…the “epiphany”…as my now lost composition had stated, last night, my pre-sleep solo pillow talk/nightly contemplation of the meaning of life yielded a thought, and as I sit here, wallowing in my ever-present boredom and unshakeable feeling of uselessness, I find myself revisiting that same thought, which is as follows: time will always pass at the same speed. It doesn’t matter if I wish it away or pray that it will simply stop to catch its breath; its pace will never change. That being said, I don’t know about everyone else, but I’d rather endure the tough, boring, emotional, or scary times with a smile, and chances are I’ll realize that time finds a way to rush through those moments, just as it does when I’m laughing with friends, sleeping, or admiring the beauty of this world. Basically, I’m resolved to be grateful for the fact that I have any time at all. It’s all about your attitude (or so I’ve been told…).

            I’m finally amost nineteen! I’m grateful to still be in those years where making it to your next birthday is exciting, because you feel like you’ve been your current age for far too long. Once I hit something in the neighborhood of twenty-three, I’m sure I’ll be feeling quite the opposite. I think I just want to reach an age where I can be taken seriously in all aspects of life…I thought that would happen when I turned eighteen, but au contraire, Lauren…au contraire. My arrival at BYU was quite the reality check. But I’ll get there soon enough! They say it all starts with taking myself seriously, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to get to that point. For goodness sake, I'm too awkward for that. Want an example? I run into the turnstile that leads to the elevator bank at work literally once a week. Today was that day for me. We have these security badges that we have to scan, and they unlock the turnstile so that we can walk through and get to the elevators. Simple enough, right? Wrong. Once a week, I manage to scan my card and confidently march forward into the turnstile, only to be violently barred access to the elevators. It doesn’t help that I am way beyond deficient in the social skills necessary to recover from such situations. Instead, the whole thing sounds something like this:

*beeeeep*

step, step

*BONK*

“Oh my GOSH, you’ve GOT to be kidding me!! This ALWAYS happens to me! Once a week, I tell you! Without fail!”

*beeeeep*

And then there are a good five minutes of me mentally kicking myself for being so darn awkward all the time. I've always gotta make a scene...Just say nothing, Lauren…for the love of all that is holy, say NOTHING! I’ve learned the hard way that talking to yourself in public isn’t exactly smiled upon…

Sometimes You Just Need to Laugh

So things have been crazy lately. I've been working nonstop, I'm living in the busiest city in the world, and I have zero friends. I'm a girl, so that's just a recipe for an emotional roller coaster. Luckily, I've found that when times are tough, sometimes all you really need is a good laugh. So that's all this post is really for! Here's something that always makes me giggle:

People....I tell ya..

And here's a quick story! I warn you now, this story is not for the faint of heart. If you're one of those people who can't hear the word "fart" without gagging, I counsel you to read no further. I can laugh about it now, but a few days ago, when it was happening. It wasn't so funny. 

My brother, dad, and I had to run uptown to Bed Bath & Beyond to pick up some fans (because this heat is unbearable, and running the AC is expensive). Well, it didn't take us long to discover that my brother had some pretty nasty gas...I mean, he's naturally a pretty gassy guy, but he even admitted it, this was the worst gas he's ever had. I don't know what we fed him, but it smelled like maybe it had been ripening inside of him for the past 22 years of his life. 

Well anyway, he walked down an aisle before me, and I innocently followed him. Big mistake. I walked right through a huge, pungent cloud of his flatulence. My mouth was open and everything! Eyes watering, gag reflex activated, I did what anyone would do (okay I don't know about that...I did what I would do, which is make a scene). I loudly coughed, fell to the ground in agony, whimpering and exclaiming something along the lines of, "I CAN TASTE IT!" I looked up a few moments later, only to discover my dear brother had escaped into the toothpaste aisle and had left me paralyzed in the middle of the store. My dad, aware of the commotion the fruit of his loins had caused, was hibernating somewhere in the vacuum section, pretending to have no association whatsoever with us. 

So I was left alone, much too close to the source of the stench for comfort. Just as I contemplated nonchalantly slipping away before anyone stumbled into no man's land, I heard a noise to my right. To my utter horror, there was an employee blundering toward me, brandishing a large can of Febreeze and shouting "WOO-WEE, Lawd have mercy on me!" At that point, I completely lost it. I broke out in hysterics, and, tears streaming down my face, went to tell my brother of the chaos he had created. The worst part is, when we finally reconnected with my cowardly father, he notified me of a conversation between two employees that he had overheard in which one said, "Yeah, I think it was that girl." ME?!?!?! So not only did I have all hopes of eating dinner spoiled by Adam's savagery, I also found myself being framed for a crime that I in no way committed. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my life.