Single Anecdote

If you've read all five of my previous blog posts, you've learned a few things about me:

• I frequently embarrass myself
• I have red, striped underwear
• I carry my weight around my middle
• My mom is a hottie
• I'm a bad driver
• I teach at a small school

(That last one will come into play shortly. Remember it.)

One thing you have NOT learned from my blog, though, is that I am currently... single.

I know, I know. It's crazy and seemingly impossible. I can hear your thoughts right now- "Lauren, you're joking! How are you single? You're super fancy and impressive and not at all awkward and embarrassing! This is preposterous!"

I have two things to say to you in response:

1. RIGHT?!
2. Oooooh, preposterous! Great word choice!

But there are so many difficult and confusing things in the world, Reader, and sometimes we just need to accept that we'll never understand them and move on. We could spend our whole lives trying to understand why bad things happen to good people, whether God causes or simply allows natural disasters, or how any of the Kardashians came to be famous in the first place. In the end, though, we'll be no closer to an answer. We'll just be frustrated, sad, and full of regret at having spent our golden years obsessing about whether or not O.J. Simpson really is Khloe's dad (I mean... they didn't exactly deny it, did they?).

And so I've accepted my lackluster love life, and have been pretty successful in not allowing it to bring me down. After all, there is always hope for love in the future, right?

But every so often something happens that makes me feel a little less secure in that. Which brings me to today's anecdote.

You might remember from one of my earlier blog posts (or the top of this one) that I am a teacher in a very small school. Most of the women I work with are 40+ and have been teaching for decades. This means that as a 24-year old, second year teacher, I sometimes get a little extra mothering at work. Overall, this is a nice gesture- it means they want to take care of me, and I can appreciate that! But every once in awhile they try to revamp certain parts of my life, and that can get a little too personal.

One of the things a few of my coworkers most want to fix about me is my singleness. Clearly I'm not getting any younger, and in the Bible belt, if you're not married by 24 you're really flirting with the line between being an independent diva who does things on her own schedule and being a sad girl who might as well start collecting cats because she's destined to be a spinster.

Unfortunately, that line is the only thing you're flirting with. And it's not even flirting back. In fact, that line hates you, and no matter how many times you bat your eyelashes, it's not going to buy you a drink.

And that is why my sweet coworkers occasionally try to intercede!

One such intervention happened recently, actually! About two weeks ago I got a call from one of my coworkers, we'll call her K, while I was trying on bras at Target (#justbeinghonest). Since I was occupado, I let her call go to voicemail. When I left the dressing room a few minutes later, I listened to her message.

"Lauren.... it's K. I need you to call me back as soon as you can."

Her tone sounded slightly panicked, so I knew something bad was happening. While I was listening, K sent me a text- "Please call me when you get this." Clearly someone had died.

I called her back immediately, and with great trepidation. But when she answered the phone she sounded as cheery and bright as ever, which was a relief... but was very confusing.

L: Hey, K.... what's up? Is everything okay?

K: Well, yes! But... okay, don't be mad at me.

L: ..... what?

K: So... I met this guy....

L: Oh, lawd.

K: He works in our after school program and I thought he was so cute, so I introduced myself and asked him how old he is, if he's single, and if he's a Christian (I'm in my 50s, so I'm allowed to ask those questions). We talked for a few minutes and I told him that I know a girl he should meet aaannnndddd... I think you two should totally meet! Can you come back to work right now?

L: What? No! I'm at Target.

K: Oh, come on. Please??

L: No... I'm sorry. You can introduce us tomorrow.

And introduce us she did. And I assure you, it was every bit as awkward as you're imagining it might be.

That Friday afternoon K dragged me down the hallway to meet B. He was trying to calm down a large group of kids and get them in and out of the bathroom so they could get on with their after school activities. K asked each of us a few questions, so instead of talking to each other, we both wound up having really uncomfortable conversations with K... in front of each other.

After a few minutes, K excused herself and we were left alone... with 30 very loud kids... by the disgusting bathrooms in the school hallway. Yes, it was very romantic.

After a few minutes of trying to make conversation, he returned to his work and I went to clean up my classroom. Later that afternoon, after I had gone home, K called me again.

K: So... I just saw B again.

L: Cool.

K: He wanted to know if I thought you might be interested in getting coffee with him sometime, so I gave him your number and he said he'd be in touch!

She was very proud of herself.

The following Monday, B texted me to ask if I'd like to get coffee sometime, and I said sure. I mean... why not, right? He asked when I was free and said he'd have to check his other work schedule, but he'd let me know soon when he would be available.

So Tuesday passes... and Wednesday... and Thursday... and even though I see B after work and we engage in polite (but still slightly awkward) small talk, our coffee date was never mentioned.

On Friday afternoon, I was getting my class ready to go to lunch, when I hit the home screen on my phone (I do this a few times throughout the day just to make sure the world isn't ending or something). My phone flashed on and I noticed that my screen was full of texts. FULL of them. All from a number that I didn't have saved.

I picked up my phone to see what t.f. was going on, and as the reality of what I was reading dawned on me, I audibly exclaimed, "NO!"

Not a tragic "Noooooo!" More of a "no way!" kind of no. You know... like a sorority girl would say it.

Anyway... a summary would not do this story justice, so I have taken the liberty of including some screenshots so that you can see the ACTUAL text messages B sent me.

................... Yes. That is real.

Let's go ahead and break this thing down.

Obviously there are many problems with this text, the first one being his use of "your" instead of "you're". That's a deal breaker.

The second, and more glaring problem, is the fact that he seems to think this news will devastate me. I mean.... really?? We have spent maybe 10 minutes TOTAL in conversation. And that's probably a very generous estimate. Not getting coffee with you is not ruining my month, my week, my day... hell, it's not even ruining my minute. Let's take the ego down a bit.

Problem three: He brought his salary into it?? Why? I mean... just... why?

Problem four: I hate it when anyone tells me that God's got someone great for me. You don't know my life! Maybe He doesn't! Don't make promises about things you can't predict or control (you know... like the future). It is annoying enough getting that from people that I care about, but following up "I don't want to take you on a date" with such a statement is absurd. Particularly because, once again, we have barely spoken to each other.

Problem five: "be blessed." Vomit.

Now... the biggest problem with this message, is that it basically means I'm going to be single forever.

You think I'm being dramatic, but I'm totally not. Think about it, guys-

Apparently God is warning people about me before I can even get a first date!

.... there's just no damn way I'm ever gon' get a ring.

Anecdotes for the New Year (but not at all related to the new year)

Okay, first of all let me acknowledge my 6 month absence from this blog. I'm sorry I abandoned you.

Wait! Don't go... I can explain.

Over the summer, I made a terrible life choice that took up a lot of my time. That's right... I started grad school.

I moved to Washington D.C. for the summer where many mildly humorous things happened (maybe one day I'll tell you about how God proposed to me/asked me to be his queen while I was walking to a Metro stop).

In August I returned to Tejas to begin my second year of teaching, continue grad school, return to the stage (ah, community theatre), and train for (and complete!) my first full marathon. As you can see, I've had plenty of free time and have been ignoring my blog simply because I hate all of you. Yes... every last one of the five of you reading this.

BUT, it is a new year! And, as is customary of those who love to fail/hate themselves, I have made a resolution. Perhaps it was inspired by the threat of the impending apocalypse, but in 2012, I have resolved to be a better person!

I'll be honest, though... it's not going well so far. So I thought maybe I should just resolve to do something easier, like blog more.

So here we are.

But why today? Why resume blogging on a random Saturday one week into the new year? Well, today is an important day for me and for my family. Today would have been my dad's 52nd birthday.

I know, I know... Dead dads are not even mildly humorous.

(And the fact that I wrote "dead dads" is making you exceptionally uncomfortable. But I'm the one who lost my dad, so I'm allowed to phrase it however I see fit. Deal with me.)

But if there was one thing that my dad secretly loved to do (he was an accountant, so it couldn't be too public), it was laugh! He was an incredibly goofy and funny man, so in honor of my dad and his dorky sense of humor, I've decided to share a couple of mildly humorous anecdotes about/involving him.

Anecdote #1

This anecdote comes from the early part of my childhood. Actually, I don't have a clear memory of it happening, but I've heard the story several times in adulthood, and it always elicits a semi-chuckle out of those within earshot.

One day, my dad was driving somewhere. I don't know where, but I know that my older sister, W, and I were in the car with him. Whilst cruising along the streets of suburbia, a small bird swooped down and flew directly in front of our car.

Now, some birds can get away with this crazy behavior. For no apparent reason, they dart around moving vehicles, and, because they're fast, they survive to high five the frat brothers egging them on from a nearby treetop. (Hah. Birds egging each other on... Get it?)

Initiation for this poor bird, however, went awry. He turned up a little too late, causing him to collide with the windshield of my father's car.

Feathers flew everywhere, and as the car sped onward, I looked up to my dad with innocent brown eyes and asked, "Daddy... do you think that bird is going to be okay?"

"... Yeah... Yeah, Lauren. I'm pretty sure he's fine."

Important parenting skill #1: Lying. Let's be real here... parents do it all the time.

Anecdote #2

Before I begin this story, I need to give you a bit of background information. A few months before this incident took place, my dad was in an accident that caused him to lose one of his eyes. The loss of an eye can pose many challenges for a person- mobility becomes more difficult due to loss of depth perception. I know... this isn't remotely funny either, but keep reading. It gets better.

When I was 15, I got my learner's permit. This is an exciting event for most 15 year-olds, but I hated to drive (still do, actually).

I think this has something to do with the fact that I learned to drive in a huge suburban, and whenever I practiced driving, my parents were quite obviously panicked (sorry, Mom, but you know it's true). I also frequently had to drive with my entire family of 8 in the car, which is extremely stressful for an already insecure driver.

Because of the terror I experienced every time I sat behind the steering wheel, I usually tried to avoid driving whenever possible, but this particular night I was unsuccessful.

My family had gone out for dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant, and my twin sister had driven us there. It was my responsibility, then, to drive us home.

I climbed into the driver's seat (again... it was a suburban, so it really was a climb) and cautiously pulled out of the parking lot. The 15 minute drive home was nerve-wracking, but fairly uneventful.

Okay... maybe I hit a few curbs. But really, that didn't count as eventful when I was driving.

Finally, we made it home. I'm sure for most nervous drivers, the driveway signals the end of the horror, but this was not the case at my house. The driveway itself isn't bad, but our garage sits at a 90 degree angle to the driveway. It also happened to be FULL of stuff most of the time, which made parking a suburban inside of it quite a challenge.

The suburban was barely moving forward as I steered it into the garage. As I inched forward, my dad said from the passenger seat, "Lauren, stop.... you're going to hit the wall on the left side."

My mom, who was sitting directly behind me, chimed in. "No, Jim, she's fine! Keep going, Lauren."

I took my foot off of the brake and continued moving forward.

Dad: "Okay, stop. You're getting too close to the wall."

I hit the brakes.

Mom: "You're FINE, Lauren! Keep going."

I released the brakes.

Dad: "Stop, stop, stop."

Brakes.

Mom: "It's fine!"

W (older sister): "Yeah, she's fine!"

At this point I remember thinking that I would never get behind a steering wheel again. People can survive without a driver's license, right?

For the last time, I release the brake and begin moving forward.

About two seconds later, we all heard the scraping of metal on wood and brick.

In a state of sheer terror, I stop the car, and my dad lets out something I would describe as a cross between a scream and a growl.

I put the car in park and sprinted into the house and up the stairs, where I hid for the next few hours.

After I had left, my dad said (quite loudly, I believe), "Why is it that the only one with NO depth perception is the ONLY one who knew she was going to hit the wall?!"

Important parenting skill #2: the ability to make angry jokes in really frustrating situations.

So there you have it. My first blog post of the new year/birthday shout out to the best dad a girl could ever have asked for.

Here's hoping your 2012 is full of mildly humorous (and downright hilarious) stories! And here's hoping mine has even more. I mean, I've got to fill this blog with something.