Daddy's Girl

So, it looks as though my car will soon be undergoing some pseudo-intense work, as all signs seem to point toward a (yikes) new transmission. From what I hear, this is the proverbial death sentence for car, but my mom thinks I should wait until I have a solid income to take on the mammoth responsibility of a car payment. I've been secretly praying for my car to somehow fix itself, but, as that doesn't seem likely to happen, I'm praying that I will somehow come up with the money to do the necessary repairs and also that my transmission won't fall out on the highway.
Over the past two weeks, I've spent more time than I wish to contemplate in various garages and automotive warehouses. I've surrendered my keys more times than I can count, and I've shaken many a grease-stained hand. Throughout this whole process, one thought keeps creeping into my head.
I miss my dad.
Of course, not a day goes by that I don't think about him or have his memory triggered by some inconsequential word or happening. During these last few weeks, however, his absence has just been so marked and so noticeable, for the automotive world was something with which he was so skilled and so comfortable. I know if he was here he would have fixed my car or quickly taken the appropriate steps to make sure it was safe and secure, and I could have trusted that he would make sure I was taken care of.
Instead, I'm in way over my head, and I'm getting different information from every source. This is not the first time (and I can guarantee it won't be the last) that I have wished he was here to tell me what to do, to point me in the right direction.
Sometimes I can't believe that I haven't heard his voice in over fourteen years because it feels like yesterday that I was sitting beside him on the couch, playing with his moustache. It seems odd that I'm wishing he was here to help me with a problem with my car when he never even saw me drive a car. Ironic, yes?
I guess I just wish he was here to help me with all the little things, for that would mean he was here for all the big things, too. I've learned to deal with how much I miss him on the big days, but it's the unexpected instances that creep up out of nowhere that are the hardest to sustain. On days like today, when I stare into the void and realize all over again that he's not coming back, it hits me so hard it almost knocks the wind out of me. I don't think that feeling will ever go away, and I don't think it will ever get any easier.
I love you, Dad, and I miss you so much.

Livin' On a Prayer

I cannot even begin to express how much fun this past weekend was. After I got off work Thursday morning, Katherine came and picked me up, and we headed to West Point to meet Jenny and Megan and head to Destin for Meg's bachelorette weekend. I expected it to be a great time, but I never imagined I could have so much fun.
I won't give you a play-by-play of the entire weekend, but I will try to hit the high points. I feel like we did a little bit of everything; we saw a little bit of everything; God knows we ate and drank a little bit of everything. We really had an amazingly fun group, and everybody got along so well. I pretty much laughed from the time I got in the car Thursday until the time I arrived back at my apartment yesterday.
Here's a brief pseudo-recap: we wore amazing costumes; we dominated Rum Runners; we made the four other bachelorette parties out Saturday night hate us because we dominated the dancefloor and the stage; Katie met an Aussie; we made a guy get out of the car on the side of the road; we woke up and there were pizza crusts everywhere; the bouncer at Club Overboard chased us into the parking lot and begged us to come back inside; Katherine and Collin fell off the coffee table; we buried Collin in the sand; I had an incident with my camera; we made so many new friends; we took hundreds of pictures.
I know it probably doesn't sound that funny, but it was totally a "had to be there" weekend, I think. (Or maybe I'm just easily entertained?) I think I'm just going to leave you with some photo evidence of the weekend and allow you to draw your own conclusions...

The start of a truly amazing weekend with some truly crazy girls.

Collin and Katherine's late night dance party (just minutes before they both fell off the coffee table).The whole gang in the gorgeous water.Katie's birthday song on the piano at Rum Runners.Burying Collin as a mermaid.Me and Maggie in our awesome 80's gear.Me and the bride, a true 80's queen if I've ever seen one.

The whole crew upon arrival at Baytown; little did they know what was about to be unleashed.Dominating the dancefloor (and sweating profusely...).

An Odd Little Place

Starkville is a strange place when school is not in session. I don't think I had any idea of this fact before this year, but spending Spring Break 2009 here has clearly hammered the point home.
Before I launch into my diatribe on the metamorphosis of Starkville, let me provide a little background information (you know, for my scores of readers who aren't familiar with Mississippi State, Starkville, and the greater Golden Triangle area... yeah, right). Mississippi State is one of those fairly large universities strategically located in a very small community. This university defines the town of Starkville; therefore, when the students are gone the town loses its identity and is, in turn, a completely different place. I have, of course, been in Starkville during times when school was not in session, but it was usually for a very brief period of time, or I was with a group of friends, so I guess I didn't notice how eerie and unnatural the whole place seemed.
For example, Monday morning it was cold and dreadfully foggy as I walked into work. I could hardly see ten feet in front of me, and I didn't encounter a single living soul until I walked into my office. I was half expecting some Thriller-esque zombie to stagger toward me out of the mist, and I kept my hand on my cellular just in case. I know, I know... me and my active imagination and frequent exaggerations, right? I'm telling you, though; it was weird.
Some of you may be thinking, "Lauren Springer doesn't have any idea what she's talking about. I've stayed in Starkville during a holiday before, and it didn't seem that different to me. It's not like everybody is gone and she's the only person still there."
And, indeed, you would be somewhat correct.
I, too, have stayed in Starkville during holidays before. I worked over Fall Break in October, but I think there were more people still here, for Fall Break was just a long weekend so every single person didn't leave town. In addition, I worked an extra week after exams at Christmas, and the place didn't seem spooky then either. Maybe more people thought they would stay in town longer because they knew they were going to get plenty of time with their families, so why rush home immediately, huh?
Spring Break, however, is different. Almost everyone leaves for Spring Break, even if only going home to spend time with dear ole mom and dad. The people that are left here in town and on campus are, well... a little odd. I can't help but wonder where these unique individuals have been for the past eight months (or the past five years, for that matter), as I know without a doubt that I have never seen them before. Perhaps because of the constant cacophony plaguing the halls and sidewalks of this ecosystem of academia, I've simply never noticed them before. Is it possible that's really it? Have they really been here all along?
All I have to say is it's a good thing I'm beating it out of here tomorrow morning. I've got to work for a little while, but then I'm heading to Destin for a few days of sunshine and fun with some of my favorite people. I've been packing and watching Vicky Cristina Barcelona all night, and I think I'm finally all ready to go. I cannot wait to get there.

Time to Relax

I love Spring Break. I can't lie; neverending Spring Breaks is one of the most attractive aspects of a career in education. During this year's break, I do have some schoolwork to get done before I leave for the beach on Thursday, but today I did absolutely nothing but lay around on my couch and relax.

I slept embarrassingly late this morning and got up just in time to watch Mississippi State take on the University of Tennessee for the SEC Championship game in Tampa. All in all, it was not the best game ever played, but I was very excited about the outcome. Many of you know that I am not the most avid of sports fans, but even I jump on the bandwagon when the stakes get raised. I know we'll all be behind the dawgs when they take on Washington on Thursday.

Best of luck, State; wrap it in maroon and white!

After the game, I watched Fireproof and Rachel Getting Married, two very different but both very thought-provoking movies. Although I don't think Rachel Getting Married would appeal to everyone, I would recommend Fireproof to anyone; I think we could all glean something from its message.

Anyway, today was another great relaxing and enjoyable day. I do have to get up and go to work in the morning, but I am actually glad for the time, for I know I'll be able to get some valuable school-time in (seeing as no one will be on campus...). See, Positively 2009 really does know no bounds.

Tomorrow after work I'm heading to Columbus to spend the night with my mom; she's getting a tooth pulled and is convinced she's going to be completely incapacitated.

Doubtful, I say.

A Moment to Myself

I have really enjoyed today. On an obvious level, it is a Friday, and it is also the first day of Spring Break. However, my enjoyment of today far transcends the surface, for I was able to spend today engaging in several of my most cherished activities.
I awoke this morning to the sound of rain falling steadily outside, and, while many people might wish for the sun to break through the clouds or dread getting out of bed, a smile instantly broke across my face. Don't get me wrong, I love a gorgeous, blindingly sunny spring day just as much as the next person, but I have a secret love for rainy days. I don't know what it is about them, but for some reason I just think they're cozy.
I sometimes wish I lived in Washington state or maybe even the rainforest...
So, as I listened to the rain outside, I eagerly looked toward the day. I started off the morning with a visit to the tanning bed, something I am usually not the biggest fan of, but I'm headed to the beach in a week; it's a necessity. While I was there I was confronted with the question: How do I feel about guys who go to the tanning bed? Personally, I'm not really a fan; there's just something weird and unnatural about it, if you ask me. Anyone have any strong thoughts?
After I showered and got dressed, I headed to City Bagel Cafe, my favorite place to eat in Starkville, conveniently located mere yards from my apartment. Of course, I had not one but two books in tow, for I was switching back and forth between school reading and pleasure reading (anything to stay motivated, right?).
I ate lunch and read for awhile, then headed onto campus to the bookstore, one of my favorite places to curl up with a good book. I continued my alternation between school reading and, ahem, not school reading for several hours, enjoying a delicious cup of hot chocolate while I turned the pages. After I left the bookstore, I managed to squeeze in a few photo ops around campus during a lull in the rainfall. (I have this dream of capturing the perfect post-rain picture... something along the lines of droplets of water on the petals of a flower or some such nonsense. I'll know it when I see it...)
Then, I headed to the movie theater to see Last Chance Harvey, which was almost as sweet as the cute undergrad who sold me my ticket. Now I'm back at home, enjoying a glass of wine while the rain continues to fall outside and my leftovers heat up in the microwave. I've rented a few movies, and I'm curled up on the couch under a blanket. I've had the best day with one of my favorite people. Me.
I really don't mean that to sound obnoxious at all (let's be honest, I berate myself and self-deprecate constantly; it's not all love between me and, well, me), but sometimes I just need a day alone with myself. I geniunely like my time spent alone, and today was the best kind of solitude.

Raise Your Sleepy Head

There's a lot I don't know, but I can tell you one thing for sure. Positively 2009 is making for some stellar weekends. Chalk the first weekend of March up as another great one.

It all started Friday when I headed to Memphis for a school assignment. By 9:30 that morning I was ready to go to bed (if you're perplexed as to why, see my previous post), but I managed to stay on track and stay awake. I really do love a solitary road trip, as I can listen to whatever I want to on the radio (ahem... showtunes) and sing as loud and as off-key as my heart desires. Also, road trippin' all by my lonesome gives me plenty of time to contemplate my life, which I never seem to get enough of.

I went to a great art exhibit in Memphis (an activity which I have recently discovered I highly enjoy) and headed back home. I was stopping briefly in Tupelo when I got a phone call from Amanda saying she was unexpectedly on her way to Starkville for the weekend. What a great surprise! Even though I was dog tired and about ready to throw in the towel, I knew I would have to pull myself together for a fun night out. I stopped in Columbus to have dinner with my mom then headed back to Starkville. I met up with Amanda, Alex, Josh, and Patrick, and we had a few margs at the mexican restaurant before heading downtown to Barrister's. It was kind of a random night downtown, so we called it a night relatively early.

Saturday I laid on my couch for the majority of the day watching a Harry Potter marathon that was on ABC Family. (Harry Potter is one of my many guilty pleasures, and I could watch those movies on repeat.) Katie arrived in town early afternoon, and we got dolled up for Megan and Brandon's engagement party in West Point. I was so excited to get to see and spend time with her; I can't believe I hadn't seen her since football season!

Anyway, the engagement party was so great. There was such a solid crew there, and everybody had such a great time. I know the road to this wedding is going to be so much fun. I mean, think about who is involved; how could it not be?! After the wedding we came back to Starkville and headed up to Mugshots, where Amanda and I kicked off the night by doing a Will & Grace/Friends megamix of impressions. We really do get carried away when we're together. I had so much fun at the bar Saturday, and it was almost like the calendar had gone back two years and I was a senior all over again. Almost, but not quite. In a way, it was almost... better.

Sunday morning I woke up bright and super early (and it felt even earlier since I had to set my clock ahead an hour) to head back to Memphis to meet Becca for Legally Blonde: The Musical. Y'all know how much I've missed Becca since she made the move to Jackson, so I was super excited to get to spend the afternoon. We had a great brunch downtown and had one of our great talks. In fact, we got to ranting, raving, and swinging our hands about so much (Becca literally hit a waiter) that we almost missed the show. If you know Becca and I, I'm sure you're not surprised; it's rather typical, I say.

Let me take a moment and talk about my deep-seated adoration for musical theater. I think I was destined to love musicals, as that is practically all my mother would ever let me rent at Blockbuster as a child. Seriously, other kids were watching Goonies while I was camped out in front of the television singing along with Newsies or Oliver! Though I grumbled about it then, my distate quickly faded, and now I will give practically any musical a chance. I've seen Peter Pan, My Fair Lady, Annie, The Kind and I, The Lion King, 42nd Street, The Phantom of the Opera (twice), Movin' Out, Sweet Charity, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, Wicked, Rent, Jersey Boys, Cats, and now Legally Blonde. It would be impossible for me to say which one was my favorite, as so many of them were absolutely amazing. I can tell you, however, that apparently I don't much care for shows about animals. I despised Cats (I think you need subtitles to understand it), and I think I'm the only person in the world who didn't like The Lion King. For whatever reason, the animals just don't do it for me.

But, I digress. Legally Blonde was every bit as amazing as I knew it would be, and Becca and I laughed our way through all two-and-a-half hours of it. In fact, Becca said to me during intermission, "I don't want it to end. I want it to go on forever." My sentiments exactly, Bec. I was sad to part ways from Becca (and even sadder when I got back to my apartment and had to hit the books for a midterm I had today), but this was the greatest weekend. I look back over the weekend with happy exhaustion and a smile on my face.

Neighbors

So, I have this pesky neighbor, and he's the worst kind of pesky, too, because he picks the most inconvenient and maddening times to drive me insane. For example, it is now 4:07 in the morning, and he has once again been blasting his music for the last hour. As per usual on weekday mornings, I have to get up at 6:30, so this nocturnal unrest puts a serious cramp in my rigidly followed schedule.
Now, let me clarify what I meant when I said he was "blasting his music." I don't mean that I can hear the occasional strain of a song once in a while; I don't mean this is the first time that this has happened; I don't mean I can wake up for a minute, roll over, and fall back asleep. What I do mean, however, is that I can hear every word of every song he plays (soothing middle-of-the-night picks like Wagon Wheel, Love Lockdown, Paper Planes, Bombs Over Baghdad, and anything by Red Hot Chili Peppers); I do mean that this will inevitably go on for hours; I do mean that I have tried everything from drowning his music out with my own to practically suffocating myself with a pillow over my head, but his tunes still manage to infiltrate my brain; I do mean that I stare up at my ceiling, willing the music to stop, praying I don't tear out my own hair.
If you still don't have a clear visual of what this might be like, picture waking up from a dead sleep in the middle of Club LaVela.
It's pretty similar.
I know what you might be thinking: why don't you say something to him? Well, it's simple, really; I would do just about anything to avoid confrontation. Including, apparently, deprive myself of much-needed sleep just to avoid the inevitable awkward meeting at the mailbox. It may sound silly, but it's true. I have seriously contemplated the Friends method of dealing with loud neighbors (aka hitting the ceiling with a broom handle, courtesy of Mr. Heckles), but I even wimped out on doing that.
So, it looks as though I've inadvertently bought into my mother's advice, which is to "just go ahead and get up and start your day when that happens," for I guess I can only lay there through Dani California so many times. Who cares that I just heard someone drive up outside, undoubtedly just now arriving home from a night of debauchery? Who cares that it's pitch black outside and no one but airport workers and garbage men are being productive at this hour?
It obviously matters not to me, for, at 4:33 in the morning, as I longingly look at my bed and shake my fist at the guy upstairs (not the guy upstairs, mind you), I'm about to start working on my taxes, and I'm hating every minute of it.

Virtual Insanity

I feel sorry for people who have to be around my high school friends and I when we get together. I mean, we are seriously crazy.
Last night we had Bailey and Sage's Stock-the-Bar party in Columbus, and we acted like the biggest morons. Somehow we ended up with our yearbook from senior year of high school out, and we were going through it looking up underclassmen we used to have these crazy nicknames for. I told you: we're crazy.

We really did have the greatest time, though. I don't think I have laughed as hard as I did last night in a really long time. I know Sage's brother and cousin thought we were absolutely nuts; let's be honest, I'm sure they're not the first or the last "outsiders" we'll manage to creep out with our neverending "Do y'all remember"'s and our pointless inside jokes.

This morning I woke up to a sort of winter wonderland outside my window, which is something we don't see too often in the Golden Triangle. For some reason, it seems we are almost always in this pocket (I like to refer to it as "The Dead Zone") that never gets any snow or ice. We're always either too far north or too far south; either way it always misses us. Not this time, though. I awoke at 6:30 this morning to see a blanket of white outside my window and a steady snowfall. I stared out the window for a minute, thought about grabbing my camera and going outside, realized I hadn't brought home the sufficient clothing for frolicking in the snow, and lackadaisically laid back down and pulled the covers over my head.

It's possible I have become disillusioned; I hope not.

Anyway, by the time I woke up again at about 10:00, the snow had stopped falling, the sun was blinding, and the melting process had already begun. I did manage to get one pretty good picture; it's on my photography blog, if you're interested. By the time I got back to Starkville this afternoon, all that was left of the wonderland were a few patchy remnants tucked into the shadows.

Alas, that didn't stop my mother from nagging me about calling the Highway Patrol just to "make sure" the roads between Columbus and Starkville were safe and ice-free...

Nice life.