God's Pencil.

I wrote this little blurb in my journal my sophomore year of college. I read this quote by Mother Teresa and wanted to write it down... ironically my pen was not working and I scribbled for a while.. licked the tip of it.. blew on the end... and then got completely inspired.. I wrote a pretty spastic entry in my journal and later typed it up.

Later I posted it on Myspace and one of my brothers called me the next Ann Lamott, and I blew it off because I have no idea who that is. Later I discovered Ann Lamott and realized she is a pretty incredible Christian author of sorts! So I am now pretty flattered by this comment and I'm going to share this little excerpt of my life with you! Enjoy ;)



Have you ever had an annoying, uncooperative pen? I have had many, partly because I'm cheap and that's all I buy, and partly because any nice pen I buy has been lost, or "borrowed." For those reasons, I have only obnoxious pens. You see, I like to write... I write stories all the time. They are usually ridiculously juvenile and poorly written with multiple spellings errors, nevertheless when I get a thought in my mind; I run to a desk or table grab whatever paper and whatever pen is available and jot down my idea. I do this so that later I can write my "masterpiece." Here is my dilemma, 99.9% of the time the pen I grab doesn't work. I am convinced this is because the pen is lazy... it has the ability to work, it just chose not to. I've never seen myself as a writing utensil until now.

I see myself as one of those Bic pens that you can buy for a dollar in bulk. The Bic pen has about three and a half inches of ink in its little ink tube. It looks strong, like it has the ability to write a novel, I think it could. However, sure as the writer sits down to begin his work, this pen stops working on page two. At this point the writer tears off a piece of scratch paper and scribbles on it, normally the first time this happens the pen will throw out some ink within seconds. The writer then takes his pen back to his work, and it NEVER fails, writes two words and the pen gives out. Does the writer toss out the pen and go find a new one? No, he keeps working with that pen, pushing down on the paper, scribbling, tapping, and squeezing every possible ounce of ink out of that pen. He could have used a better pen, there are a lot of better pens out there, but he chose that one.

"I am only the pencil in God's hand, God writes through us, and however imperfect instruments we may be, God writes beautifully." -Mother Teresa

Morphing into Mom.... all my "Jo"isms...

So apparently I'm funny... a lot of people have told me that lately... that they think I'm funny and they enjoy reading my blog. I've never considered myself even remotely funny, so this is a lot of pressure. I guess it's easy to say funny things when you don't really intend to... but now I feel like I need to come up with more funny material---hence the pressure.

As promised I wanted to write about all the ways I feel as thought I'm becoming my mother. I said I could give ten, but thankfully I don't think I'll be able to think of that many. I love my mother... but I'm only 21, I'm not ready to fully take on that role quite yet.

So, I'll give you 5...

1. I don't like people in the kitchen when I cook. I always resented this when I was little because I always really wanted to help, and when I'm bored I tend to hover... the standard phrase was, "Ya'll get out of the kitchen," and I would go to my room and 20 or so minutes later, she would call me back "Lauren! Come fix your plate..." Then we(my mom and dad, and in earlier years- Jason, and Blake) would proceed with the "border house" reaching and fast flinging of food, eat and leave the table for mom to clean up. BUT, as I've gotten older I completely understand... I just don't want people in my kitchen when I'm trying to cook, if that leaves me cleaning up the damage alone in the end, I'm okay with it.

2. "Don't touch me, I'm hot." I always wanted to sit on my moms lap, sometimes I still try and she literally acts like I've just inflicted upon her the world's most agonizing pain(not good for a girls self esteem). BUT, once again I get it... and I'm far too young for this one.

3. I doodle the names of TV characters on notebook paper while watching my shows. I don't really have much more to say about this one because I'm a little ashamed about it.

4. I like to be the first one to know things and to relay the good news... of any kind...and when I'm the first, and then someone else goes to tell the story that the other person already heard from me, it's like I've won. ;)

5. I rarely cuss... (I'm from East Texas and I refuse to say curse or swear... it's just cussin' to me) I went through a stage in middle school where I would cuss every now and again... but I just don't now- but old habits die hard, and like my mother I occasionally spit out the "S.H." word at the grocery store... but only when I've forgotten my list.

There you have it... I am becoming my mother-- but it's to be expected.
After all, my middle name is Jo :)


I LOVE YOU MOM!

Grumbling.

So let me just start this thing out by saying, I know. I know I'm a terrible blogger... but I don't really feel the need to ramble on about my life, quite honestly because I have nothing personally going on that is amusing or interesting enough to talk about. As far as anything else goes, I seriously doubt my close friends and family would appreciate me rambling about their personal lives... even though trust me, I could write a book or document a pretty hilarious Reality TV show with all the stuff that goes on in Bldg. 4 of my apartment complex. Maybe one day I will.

Now let me tell you one thing I don't know. I don't know what this blog post is going to be about. Every once in a while something happens to me and, in my head I think..."that was definitely blogworthy..." but when it comes right down to it and I'm ready to sit down and take initiative... I forget. So my plan is to just start typing and see what happens.

Ok, here's something. This week my mom emailed me the address of the new house my brother and his wife bought in Missouri(This is after she email it to HIM which she later realized... and started mumbling about how her sons already think she is strange and it's because she does things like emails them their own addresses). So, I am sitting on the couch next to Chelsea(my roommate) and I start looking at the pictures, and rather than making comments like "Oh! How nice... OoOoHhh! I like that room..." I started feeling self pity and bitterness.. and apparently grumbling out loud... Of course Chelsea leans over to look at the pictures and because she and I are almost definitely the exact same person split into two different bodies, she begins to grumble as well. And this is where I start to vent.... Both of my brothers have perfect lives... the both got great jobs, married beautifully perfect sweet skinny girls, and had beautifully perfect sweet babies, and now.... to top it all off they both live in life sized Barbie Dreamhouses. And I never even got a regular Barbie Dreamhouse. All while I sit in San Marcos, single, jobless, and on the fast-track to becoming a cat-lady. The one hope I'm so desperately holding onto is that Chelsea will be right there with me in 20 years... sitting in a rocking chair with me on our front porch... rocking and singing... surrounded by cats... and shooing away little kids that try to play pranks on us and stare as they walk down the road. Those same little kids will then go home and talk about those two freaky ladies who live together and try and decipher which one is the man, and which one is the woman in the relationship, all while Chelsea and I are in our Jammie's posted up with our laptops on E-Harmony.com.

On a positive note, I would just like to assure you(whoever you are because I doubt anyone will read this) that I am not a bitter sad person, and I only grumble to myself, my mother, and Chelsea. I do so because I can, and because I'm sure it's possible that one day I will like in a life-sized Barbie Dreamhouse with a cute husband and some nice kids... maybe even a dog. Until then... I get to grumble... because I feel like maybe if I expect very little out of my life then my expectations will not only be met, but completely surpassed.

I think that is enough for now...

Maybe soon I will blog again... and I think it's going to be something like... "The Top 10 Ways I Am Becoming My Mother...."

Until then,
Lauren :)