Caution: Very, Very Profane.

So I got my grades.
I did ok.
I guess.
I mean, it wasn't the greatest, and I was sort of dissappointed in some classes because I thought I would get an A and I didn't. So I'm rather upset about it. But I don't really think that there is anything I can do about it now.
But because of this one grade in a class I abhor, despite, and loathe with basically my entire body and soul; my entire being rages in emnity for this class, my maternal guardian is saying that I might have to either go back to ACU for the spring.

Or.

Stay home.

Um.
FUCK. THAT.

I absolutely REFUSE not to go to Uruguay. It's absolute bullshit that she's saying this.

First, I don't even remember my mom saying I had a GPA stronghold that determined me going to Uruguay. Well, if I think really hard, maybe. Mom, for the love of all that is holy, please don't make everything in my fucking life fucking circumstantial. Life happens. I won't do everything right. I will fuck up. There shouldn't always be such dire fucking consequences. Get over your fucking power trip and let me live my fucking life. I am not you. Quit trying to make it so.

Second, my family is so fucking concerned about money that they're flipping out, saying that I'm putting them in debt and basically making me feel like shit about it, and if I pull out of Uruguay now, they get no money back. None of it can be returned. That's a whole semester abroad that will be wasted because of one fucking C in a God-awful class. That is stupid. And foolish. And does not make any sense.

Third, the fucking polisci professor is going to Uruguay this spring. Hello. That is why I need to go this semester. Because I am a FUCKING POLITICAL SCIENCE MAJOR. Plus, I'm almost fluent in Spanish. I'll be fluent after my semester. I'll actually be able to communicate and do shit and whatever in Spanish. And then end up taking other languages and end up being whoever the fuck my dad believes me to be in his own little fucking dreamland. To take that away would be dumb.And I mean it's not like I'm going to Oxford. I already know how the western mind works and how to speak fucking English. I will get a TON out of this trip. Going back to Texas, or going back to Cali; pshh please. I know how they work. I know that Texas is amazing and the Californian are freaking commie hippies who smoke weed and lay down in opium fields. Nothing new.

just because of one.fucking.C.

RIDICULOUS!

Studying abroad is a HUGE opportunity that my mom wants to take away because of one grade. One grade. I am most certainly not staying home. I am most certainly fighting this to the grave. If I go down, it will be in a blaze of glory, like Napoleon. I was thinking about it and I definitely think my dad will pull through for me again, as he always does, because he really wants me to learn Spanish and crap. So that will be awesome. Hopefully. If he does. If I wasn't such a failure of a daughter maybe it'd be better and he'd get up in mom's bizz about it. I don't know. I lie, once again, in the balance of a power trip and a pushover.

I feel like the semester was a bit of a dud. There weren't really many classes I enjoyed. There was one. Got a fucking B. SO PISSED. What is wrong with me?! Why am I not fucking intelligent?? Was there a reason I was not granted like 8 more fucking IQ points?!? REALLY!?!?

Anyway. I just felt rather discouraged all semester. I guess it was so lame because the spiritual aspect diminished a lot. Like, I wasn't really plugged into a church, the life group I decided to go to didn't end up working out, I didn't go to KLF, and I didn't really go to Beltway either. So there wasn't a lot of spiritual stimulation. Which I think is part of the reason it was like that. Granted, there were good things. No doubt about it. I had an amazing roomate and amazing girls in my pod. I learned a lot about myself, it was a rather introspective semester. I think I matured a lot. I don't really know how that happened, because there weren't like super intense situations where I had to grow up. But I did. I feel calmer. I don't feel as sporadic. I don't, however, feel like my thought process is where it should be. I just think like a spaz. Like I don't have a coherent thought process. Which hinders me in so many ways. I seem like a retard when I talk to people and my writing is absolutely ridiculous for school papers and crap. I don't know. And I don't want to say 'I don't know.' I want to be able to identify why I feel a certain way and what made me feel that way and what appropriate action to take in order to correct or change my situation/feeling.

I also feel like any goal that I would have has gone away. Fighting justice in India, blood diamonds in Africa, they just seem so far off. It seems like I'll never be able to do stuff like that. Because I fail at school. And lack passion. and I didn't before. So now I don't know. I don't know what I want to do with my life at all. AT ALL. I know I want to go to the International realm, but doing what? I dunno. I have to make a living. I have to do something that benefits and helps people. But what? How? So many questions that need answers in the near future and no drive to get there.

It seemeth as though I am fuckedeth.

Ugh. I hate this. I cannot wait to be old so I can just tell people what to do because I have done it all. I can lord it over stupid 20 somethings and tell them, 'no. I'm right. I'm 60 fucking years old. Do what I say.'

In that vein, I have starting counting down for my 21st birthday. Weird sauce. I didn't think I would. But I guess it all depends where I am at that moment. Abilene? Lubbock? Cali? England?

One never knows...

Carthartic Sauce

I don't think I realized how cathartic this was, writing crap down.
But it is.
So that's rather exciting.
I have many thoughts that have surfaced within the past few days. None of them very pressing, just stuff that I have been thinking about. I guess since my blog is supposed to be about Uruguay I will start there.

I get really frustrated with these websites because they basically all say the same information. Geographic size, population, state capital, national language, national religion. Yes. Ok. 68,000 square miles. 1.34 million. Montevideo. Spanish. Catholicism. Yes. Ok. Good to know. But that's not what I want to know. I want to know the ins and the outs, the good clubs, the fun bars, the interesting people. The potential adventures that await me. But then I realized I am an idiot for thinking google could tell me that. Montevideo will tell me that. So I must wait. 27 more days.
At least the US and Uruguay are cool with each other.

I've been getting really nervous about this trip. Like, uber terrified. It's for so long. And so far away. I hope I don't get homesick. And I hope that I don't miss people too much. And I hope I do well in my classes and stuff. It's just a lot of fear of the unknown. I'm ready to just do this ish, even though I am not packed and I have no idea what I need or anything like that. And I'm so scared about money. I want to have enough but I don't think that I will, so I'm going to have to resort to selling drugs or something. Which I have slight reservations about. Because it's illegal. And damaging.

I just realized I need to get ready to leave to pick up the maternal unit.
Butttt. Food for thought.

Crazy people. How does Jesus see them?

Ohh The Joys of Having Infinite Amounts of Time on My Hands...

So maybe this blog won't all be about Uruguay. But I think it might, it just isn't now because I am not actually in Uruguay. So, until then, it's going to be my thoughts. Well actally I'm sure it's going to hold my thoughts in Uruguay as well, but since I originally said that I was going to make this a travel blog, and as of right now, it's not, it is going to be an outlet for my thoughts and frustrations and whatever. Maybe some dreams. Who knows.

I've been driving around a lot since I got home and I must say that there is nothing that makes me happier than driving around in Newport Beach. 17th Street and Harbor Boulevard freaking make me smile as I drive around, blasting Michael Jackson or some country song or 'Tik Tok' or something like that. I was driving around OCC and I was thinking about all of the fun times I've had with my best friend, like açai bowls during a break in our History class from hell. Or getting Boba and sitting in the parking lot talking our senior year while I was texting a boyyyyy ;) Or that one time we got creeped on when we were singing Michael Jackson at the top of our lungs. Or that other time we drove alllllll the way up the street looking for hookers, but to our dismay, did not find any. I remember all of the good times we had and all of the laughter that was shared on these streets. We got each other. We listened. We understood. We laughed. A LOT. And I just think about it, even though I love Texas and I wish every day that I could be back in the land of salt, oil, and ethnocentricism, I love these streets. These are the places I grew up and figured out, at the bare minimum, who I was, who I want to be, and who I am becoming. I feel as though all of the places my feet will tread will have some kind of impact like that, but the initial steps of discovery were made here. And I cannot forget those. At the same time I don't have many other ones to remember, but I think these, as my first and formative years, will hold a special place to me. Texas cannot replace them. India cannot replace them. Africa cannot replace them. And I don't think Uruguay can either. Yet each has formed me. Each has changed me and my heart, has brought about new experience that I would not have received another way. So with this, I must take my gained experiences and embrace what each of them was and is, and not wish I had grown and experienced other things and places.




As far as things on the Uruguay front go, I have no so much as googled a single, solitary thing. Let's start now.

*CIA World Factbooks Uruguay*
Well. That was sufficiently unhelpful. I now know that Uruguay is full of white, spanish speaking Catholics. Jolly good. I know am so much more informed about my impending home.

This must take more investigating.
Since, apparently, Uruguay is a mystery in my writing.

I'm basically psyched out of my pants for this adventure.

Bring it life. Bringggg ittttt.

Revamp '09

So I haven't really touched this blog for about 600 years. But the up-and-coming events in the life of little ol' me have inspired me to pick up and keep on' a movin' on the blogfront. I definitely feel way cooler when I blog, like I am competent member of the generation that knows how to do everything and thinks that their voice should be heard now matter what, when, in actuality, a little Asian Values could do us some good, valuing the community over the individual. Get some ish done.

Anyway. This is now going to be a travel blog. Because, in t-minus 30 days, I will be making my way town to a little country called Uruguay for a semester. I'm pretty pumped, I cannot tell a lie. Though I am thoroughly terrified because it is a lot farther and a lot less common than going to a European country. Or just staying home. I know nothing about Uruguay. Nothing at all. Except that it's in South America. And that they speak Spanish. And drink Mate. And cozy up next to Brazil. But other than that, nothing. I know nothing of the people, food, traditions, cultures, or any of that nonsense. I am anxious to learn, giving that I will be living there for the next five months, and ought to develop some competency in the place that I will be living. Though I don't know how much you can learn in 5 months. The first 5 months I spend in Texas were such a culture shock I nearly cried every day. It's only been after a year and a half that I'm actually understanding stuff, and asking less questions, but just accepting and realizing the mindset of a Texan. That is it what it is, and it's what hey do, so, deal with it. Though I do want to go back to what made the Texans the way they are. Or the Uruguayans they way they are. Or the Swedish. Or Polish. Whoever.

I don't know how much actual traveling I will be doing, per se. I know that I will be visiting Buenos Aires, Argentina, Iguaçu Falls, Brazil, and some other places, but I will primarily be in Montevideo, because that is where I am studying (thus, the Study Abroad title of the program in which I have enrolled.) But I guess the whole experience of not living in the states/going to school in the stats/being in the states is something rather worthy to blog about. I think I'm going to keep this under wraps until I actually leave, because there are certain people I don't want to know I'm leaving until we get certain business *cough* squared away. Sooo yea. And plus it won't even be interesting until I leave. It will just be me going "woo I'm pumped!" or "I don't know how I am going to take 2 suitcases for 5 months!" or "wtf did I decide to do this?" Because I have a feeling that is what a lot of it is going to be. Including lots of CIA World Factbook, Wikipedia, and LOTS of googling of cheap Latin American airfaire. And of course, a lot of ridiculous, majorly illegal ways of making money so that I can pay for this trip without may family having to sell the house.

I often get frustrated with my parents and my decision to study in Latin America. My mom acts like I'm going off to live with tribal people of the Amazon, when I'm going to the capital of one of the more stable Latin American countries. She won't visit me because she doesn't know anything and makes stupid jokes about doing laundry in rivers and crap like that. And I go ...really mom. Really now. It's just so dumb because she's narrow-minded about it. It's not that hard to use google. Look up the country yourself. Or better yet, go there. Getcho' self another stamp on yo' passport. Except my mom is going to India in January, which makes me insanely jealous because it's only my lif egoal to go back to that beautiful, beautiful land and try and find pieces of my heart so deeply embedded into the soil and sand of Kanyakumari that it would take a lifetime to find it all. And that'd be ok with me.

I know I'm going on a tangent, but this is my blog. I do what I want.
I recently have been thinking a lot about blood diamonds. Like, a lot. I.e. my facebook profile picture. It's allll about the blood diamonds. And I don't know why. I hope it's something I will eventually start caring about/doing something about a lot, instead of just a phase. Because it's a big problem.

I know that if i Justkeep going I am going to turn into a raving loony, and we certainly don't want more of that than there already is. So. I am going to bed.

Says to myself: Goodnight, and Goodluck.

My heart.

I recently received an email from someone in India that I met, asking for support.

And it struck me. I don't know why.
What he was asking for was amounts of money that I do not have and I cannot make.
I was wondering if I just stepped out in faith, if God would provide that money.
But I shrink back in fear at that thought. Which shames me.

As I read the email, 'Time and Confusion' was playing by Anberlin. And it's one of those sort of thinking songs, where thoughts are a little easier to process.

So, after I got this email, I was thinking about India. I was thinking about the people and who I was. And what it all meant. If I was supposed to go back there. If it really is my passion.

It has to be, right? What else would there be? What else would God want me to do?
Why am I so scared to ask? What would be so wrong with aligning myself with the plans of the creator of the universe? Nothing. Duh. It'd be the most retarded thing ever not to do. And yet I cannot let go of India.

But I don't feel like I should. Nor should I let go of Africa. But nothing seems to be happening. I don't feel the overwhelming love for them as I did a few years ago.

But then again, I have sort of fallen into apathy. About my major, career choice, my passions, likes, dislikes, everything. I mean, I like things, and I'm not going around riddled with depression, but nothing like that seems important. Then, I ask myself the question, "Lauren, what is important to you?" And right now, I respond to myself, "Nothing really."

Which is terrifying.
Because I know I am a passionate person. I love things. I have never been one to be like "oh, it's ok." I've always had an opinion. And now, even with politics, my major, it's just kind of apathy with a dash of me knowing what is right, but not really caring.

This is so DUMB. Why, whyyy am I so apathetic?
It makes me crazy.
I was hoping that a mission trip would cure the apathy, but that's not really possible at the moment.
I don't know what will.

Jesus probably will.
I guess I should give that a shot.


Right now I'm listening to 'Taste' by the Josh Abbott Band. Favorite country song ever. Pretty explicit, but hey. Country music singers can get away with most everything. Ha.
It makes me think about Texas, and how I will be heading back to that blessed land in about to weeks. I'm really excited. I can't wait to see everyone and have lots of rain and get back into studying and learning and figuring out life. Now that I think about it, if you work at a college, it's just one great, big science experiment. Semi-teenagers and semi-adults interacting on a daily basis with varied amounts of sleep, school credits, and self-esteem. Definitely would be a fascinating thing to watch.

I am definitely excited to see what is in store for this year. : )

There Has To Be Something in the Air...

This place is seriously the greatest.
I don't really know what it is that makes me love it so much.
But I do.
I honestly am having issues with going home.
But then I ask myself what it really is about Texas that I love, and I can't really put my finger on it.
Maybe it's the wide open skies and sunsets that are breathtaking every single night.
Maybe it's the fact that I have been introduced to wonderful things like lakes, 'queso', access roads (actually, those aren't wonderful), and southern (Texan) accents.
Maybe it's the cowboys.
Maybe it's the home cooking.
Maybe it's the fact that I have struck out on my own here, that I am slowly becoming more and more of who I want to be with an amazing group of people to help me understand that and to struggle, grow, laugh, and cry, and learn with.
Maybe there is just an inexplicable awesomeness about Texas that only Texans understand and all of those that are lucky enough to land here for a moment will spend the rest of our time here trying to understand.
I probably will end up moving here. And living here.

Boys Suck. Life Sucks. And I'm Worried about Swine Flu.

So I recently have been receiving treatment from the guys that I know that I do not like. Call me old fashioned, but I feel as though boys are supposed to have a certain amount of propriety in order to be considered gentlemen. Which a lot of them aren't, according to me.

And I might be a terribly critical judge, but there are many things that make a boy immediately lose gentleman points. Recently, I have had friends do various things to me that make me step back and look at the types of people they are, honestly.

My friend kicked me in the butt the other day. Actually, now that I think about it, my butt has been a main attraction on several occasions. And THAT is not ok. I don't know how I have portrayed that it is. Because it's NOT. If anyone ever does that to me, they WILL not date me. They are officially off my list indefinitely. Why is that ok? Honestly? Who does that? It's legitimately the creepiest, grossest thing in the universe. How have I let people know that's ok? I probably have been a little too lax in letting people know it's ok, because I don't like it. I mean, should I throw a fit every time it happens? What would people think? They'd not touch my butt. But should I care what people think? I dont know. I do know that if I ever told my father of this, there would definitely be a problem for those boys. I guess I need to be a little more assertive. Ha. A joke. I laugh.

Anyway.

The boys I have talked to recently have gotten on my nerves because they think it's ok to talk about everything under the sun regarding girls. Every.thing. Which is gross. I had talking about that stuff anyway, under any circumstance except, you know, in my dorm or with my best friend or whatever. Any other time it's just not appropriate. And I don't know why people don't see or understand that. I HATE talking about it. I know that no one reads this, but I don't even want to write about it here. Because that is how much I hate talking about it excluding a few situations. People always ask "What about when you get married? You're not going to talk about it??" And I think that is a legitimately stupid question. My husband will figure it out. I'm sure we will talk about it. But just for conversation? Hell naww.

Someone asked about my thong.
Someone asked about Mr. Asian.
Someone kicked me in the butt.
I've been called a bitch and a ho (jokingly) more times than I can count.

Is this ok? I don't know why it would. But it seems as though I treat it like it's a big deal, people freak out and think I'm ridiculous. I am NOT ridiculous. I don't want to be treated like some common girl. I'm not. Some people want to be treated like that, that's fine, great for them. Well, not really, that sucks. But still. Honestly? Who told YOU it was ok to disprespect me? Y'all are supposed to be southerners. i.e. respectful. And maybe I was playing into the sterotype. Or maybe what I initially thought was wrong. Or maybe all southerners are posers.

Who knows.

This blog has been in the making for about 10 years.

New one!