Where'd you go Lauren?

During lunch this week with my co-workers, small talk ensued and my eyes were opened to the stark reality that I need to pursue my passions.  Lauren, what do you do when you're not working?  In my head, the obvious (and overwhelming) answer was absolutely everything.  Cleaning, cooking, shopping, playing Barbies, building Lego houses, washing the dogs, balancing the checkbook, stocking up for impending doom at Costco, making sure everyone has their shots, clean teeth and hands.  No really, what do you do for fun?

I wanted to slide under the table, but I was the dummy that asked the conversation starter in the first place, and to further complicate matters, I was wearing a dress.  Luck would have it, all three co-workers were musically inclined.  Shit.

The truth is, I will do just about anything- but my list of things I want to do tends to be overpowered by things I should be doing.  I don't know if it's working mother guilt, traveling wife guilt or just plain guilt- but the things I am passionate about take time away from my family.  I've struggled with this for too long.  Ultimately, someone needs to push me to do it and not let up.

What I really want to be doing is learn how to play the guitar, buy a paddle board, start taking riding lessons and buy an old, leaky LR Discovery to cruise around in on the weekends.  I miss the ocean-  growing up on the beach and being land-locked for 13 years is wearing thin.  My most recent proposal to by an old Mastercraft ski boat was veto'd.  Either I can't win, have really bad timing or my head is too far into the clouds (maybe it's all the above).  Another area of denial is motorcycles.  My fear of them has recently been overpowered by a strong desire to do something dangerous.  To be honest, I fight this to not appear a copycat to Charlie's passion.  Since he's moved on to his new bike, the vintage SR in the garage is calling my name.  

I am having an identity crisis.   Where'd you go Lauren?  

Giggle at a funeral

Anyone who has had the joyous task of planning a last minute funeral should appreciate this post.  Let's face it (besides the obvious emotions), death is horribly inconvenient and comical all at the same time.  

My least favorite part of planning my mother's funeral was picking out the casket.  For those of you who know me, I am in sales.  Sales people don't like to be sold- especially when it comes to a $12,000 tin can.  Life lesson to the wise... please include your burial preferences in your last will and testament.  The likelihood of them being followed to a "T" is low, but at least you might save any additional stress to your surviving family.  During the weekend of my mothers funeral, I had several out-of-body experiences -I refer to these states as my vacation from the numbness.

We (Doug, Cormac, Natalie and Dad) met with Steve the funeral director at 9am.  To make us "more comfortable," the secretary ushered us to a conference room.  I think she had gotten wind of our spirited temperaments and wanted to minimize the disruption to any future clients.  Doug was having a hard time sitting still, Cormac was stoic, Natalie was spinning circles in the "fun executive" chairs, and Dad was chatty.   There was also an unlimited supply of peppermints and Kleenex laced with lotion.  So thoughtful.

Steve entered from what I swore was a secret entrance hidden in the wall, but my siblings have debunked this delusion- they have since reassured me it was a normal door.  He proceeded to explain to us how the body is prepared for the viewing, the casket selection process and any special requests for her funeral service.

Natalie and I were tasked with picking out her outfit.  Steve was very quick to remind us that this should include undergarments.  I couldn't have been happier.  My mother never wore matching bra and panties.  I was finally going to have the opportunity to convert her.  I always match and want to be prepared in the event of an emergency.  Nurses in the ER really do make fun of your undergarments and upkeep should they have to cut your clothes off.   Don't believe, me?  Just ask one, I dare you.  I certainly don't want to be known for boring, mismatched panties and an unkempt bikini line.

Natalie and Cormac both were interested in the embalming process, so I politely excused myself from the conference room into the casket showroom.  Dad was mindlessly running his hand on all the caskets and Doug had stepped out for a smoke break.  Once everyone was reunited in the showroom, the fun part began.  Steve was pumped up and ready to sell.  It was like being on a car lot, people need cars- just like they need caskets.  He was 50% closer to closing the sale, he just had to be convince us to buy the Batesville Eternal Slumber 3000 casket from him and not from Costco.

We started with a quick run down of how caskets are made, the different models and Florida state law requirements.  In addition to being sealed in a casket, she would also be entombed in a cement vault to prevent "lifting" during a catastrophic flood.  My brothers really liked the rosewood casket, until they came to the realization that they would be the ones carrying it.  They quickly focused their attention to the light-weight, aluminum caskets. 

Doug wanted to make sure mom would be comfortable, so, he hopped in the casket to test out the springs.  The best part, he was wearing a wife beater, work jeans and steel toe construction boots.  He looked so much softer and sweeter against the purple satin lining.  Steve was being tested and he responded to him by demonstrating to us how the coils are double lined, the bottom sealed to prevent leakage and that since the bodies tend to sink deep into the casket during the viewings and services.  This particular casket came with a crank powered leveling system that could raise and lower the body at any time.  My survival instincts were beginning  to kick in and I was ready to bolt and run 13.4 miles back to our condo on the beach.  I knew that my step mom would have a margarita ready for me when I got there.

But wait...there's more.  Dad asked Steve what display on the wall was for.  This display featured 30+ porcelain statues.  There were soldiers, flags, dogs, cats, birds, fish, peace symbols...you get the point.  Steve puffed up his chest, proud to share with my father that the glorious display he was looking at was the next thing at funerals...casket corners.   Seriously?  This was the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard of.  You can now pimp your casket, just like you pimped your '88 Chevy Caprice Classic.

On several different occasions,  Mom would joke that she just wanted to buried in a pine box.  So with no regard for her final wishes, the casket got pimped.  Sorry mom, the Batesville Eternal Slumber 3000 just didn't feel complete with out the casket bling.  Dad piped up and said that since there are four corners, each child should select a porcelain statue.  

Doug immediately picked the 10 point buck.  What this had to do with mom, I have no idea.  Cormac liked the flower pot with the garden tools.  He was quick to share that he felt mom was happiest when her hands were in the dirt.  I concurred.  Next was the hummingbird; Natalie picked this one to honor mom's nickname, Birdie.  The pressure was on and I folded.  I couldn't do it.  I thought it was the tackiest thing in the world and Dad ended up stepping in.  He felt that picking something Catholic would please his ex-family-in-law.  Silly Dad, nothing pleased the Halloran's.

Finally, it was done.  The casket was selected and Steve made a killer commission.  I am happy to report that the funeral went off with out a hitch.  Five weeks later, I received a UPS package with the remaining three casket corner sets.  I decided to store them in the attic- next to her purse I can't bring myself to go through.  

Steve eventually got what he was due.  After multiple attempts to get the spelling on mom's headstone correct, Doug decided to take matters in his own hands.  Late one night, he and a couple of buddies snuck into the cemetery and yanked out her headstone.  Doug kindly placed the headstone at the front door of the funeral home in the early morning hours with a note for Steve.  One week later, the correct one was installed.

In the end, it wasn't what she was buried in that mattered-  It was who buried her.  After the graveside service, my sweet brothers borrowed two shovels from the cemetery attendant and proceeded to bury her by hand with sweat, tears and a 4' pile of fresh Florida clay.  

Don't Skip Breakfast!

Poached Eggs- Halloran Style

Grandpa Bob- The Colonel was a one dish kind of man. Regardless of what you asked him to make for breakfast, what you got were two medium soft boiled eggs with cheese chunks and thin sliced Pepperidge farm toast for dipping. No matter what the time of day, if he was cooking, this is what you got. The taste is so comforting now, and here is my twist on his dish. So brew some strong coffee and eat this...not that, whatever boring dish you were going to eat.

2 Eggs

Extra Sharp Cheddar Cheese (Room Temp is best!)

English Muffin

Butter

Salt and Pepper

In a small saucepan boil water. While water boils toast and butter your English muffin. Top with slices of cheddar. Crack an egg into a small bowl or ramekin, then slowly pour into boiling water, do the same for the second- quickly! Allow eggs to cook for 4 minutes (six if you don't want it runny), then spoon onto muffins. Salt and Pepper to taste.

Good Things...giving into the cliche

Like most people, I get caught up in the rush of the final destination or goal- thereby completely ignoring how many awesome things I missed along the way. With the arrival of the new year the overwhelming sense of renewal is ready to manifest itself in me. For those of you who know me, I am like a walking commercial for all things good. This year, it's my goal to share them with you, the one follower I have. Maybe if I'm lucky, I will have two by the end of 2012. So here goes. I hope I don't let you down my one follower, and the few blog visitors I might have.

I knew it! Cats are evil.

I love my morning coffee. It tastes even better when it comes out of my nose. This morning while enjoying my first cup of joe, I read the best newspaper article yet...

Researchers explore link between schizophrenia, cat parasite

Hopkins scientists explore toxoplasmosis and schizophrenia link

July 31, 2010|By Frank D. Roylance, The Baltimore Sun

• 
  Karl Merton Ferron, The Baltimore Sun

Johns Hopkins University scientists trying to determine why people develop serious mental illness are focusing on an unlikely factor: a common parasite spread by cats.

The researchers say the microbes, called Toxoplasma gondii, invade the human brain and appear to upset its chemistry — creating, in some people, the psychotic behaviors recognized as schizophrenia.

If tackling the parasite can help solve the mystery of schizophrenia, "it's a pretty good opportunity … to relieve a pretty large burden of disease," said Dr. Robert H. Yolken, director of developmental neurobiology at the Johns Hopkins Children's Center.

The cause of schizophrenia is unknown, but both genetic and environmental factors likely play a part, according to the National Institute of Mental Health. Yolken is among the researchers worldwide examining whether certain viral infections can increase the risk of developing the illness. Other studies have focused on flu and herpes viruses as possible triggers.

The notion that there are links between infections and schizophrenia is "intriguing," said Dr. Ken Duckworth, a clinical psychiatrist and medical director for the National Alliance on Mental Illness. "There's so much we don't know about schizophrenia that anybody paying attention would welcome any thoughtful inquiry. And the infectious disease corner of the field is a growth stock right now," he said. "If true, it would have a preventive implication which is profound."

So I guess the phrase "crazy old cat lady" is chillingly true. The only thing providing companionship to that sweet elderly lady in your neighborhood was also poisoning her mental state. I have never been a real big fan of cats and this just gives me more ammunition to continue disliking them. If you are reading this and own a cat, will you ask yourself if that 10lb ball of fur is really worth your solid mental state?

Can I please get new neighbors?

That's it, I've had it. We bought this house back in the summer of '03 and only had decent neighbors for two years.

This evening was the last straw. While taking out the garbage, I heard the sound of branches smack the ground. My redneck neighbor was committing TREE MURDER! The hum of his reciprocating saw fueled by blood to boil. He was lopping off all the branches and trunk of a 7' crepe myrtle tree. I went inside and couldn't get the sound out of my head. I proceed back through the garage, and during a break of the chlorophyl blood bath, I said..." I would have no problem limbing that tree up for you?" my neighbor responded in his backwoods twang.." aww, naww, it's a little late for that now. (AGHHHH!) We just got lots of bugs and spiders and it's 'bout time we tend to these here bushes."

What the hell is wrong with you is really what I wanted to say! After counting to 10 backwards, I walked inside the house and continued to silently list off the reasons why I hate this neighbor. I would like to clarify one thing, in the seven years we have lived in this house I have only seen my neighbors "trim" their bushes and trees twice. A trim consists of cutting everything down to a nub in the middle of the summer. It's a miracle the stuff grows back.

Who trims a beautiful tree in hopes that it cures household pests? To get rid of spiders and bugs is simple, CLEAN YOUR HOUSE! Furthermore, have you ever heard of preventative maintenance? Simple things like regularly cutting your grass, installing new weatherstripping, re-caulking windows and crawl space vents can easily address your issue. When all else fails, call in the pro's at Terminix. That is, if you didn't spend all your extra cash on that PPV Nascar race.

Mr and Mrs Redneck live next door and have three adult children ( of whom have the signs of alcohol syndrome babies) and one seven year old. They have four cars, only two run. She once told me she "just loves animals," raising rottweilers in a 6'x6' chain link gravel filled pen. Their backyard could be the set for the next ASPCA PSA. During the hail storm of 2005, both their sunlight's were busted. When we sit on our deck we hear the sound of the trash bags that cover the openings flapping in the wind. To the rednecks credit, they are one step above my other neighbors, who still haven't replaced their pock marked siding on the west side of their house.

Are you at all curious about my other neighbors? While not focused too much on curb appeal, they are middle aged parents to five year old autistic twins. I do not feel compelled to criticize them. This family however, is very personable and waves when you drive by.

Pictures to come soon!

Right Brain, Left Brain, Both Brains

This month, Real Simple magazine featured an article on how to organize to your life according to what brain type you are. I get a kick out of these articles, especially when they include a quiz in order to help you determine which category you belong in. One night this week, Charlie and I were laying in bed and I had this great idea to share this article with him. I love to read before I go to bed, and I wouldn't blame Charlie for thinking it's just my personal form of sleep hygiene sabotage.

I will cheat at quizzes (or cards, board games, etc) if left unsupervised, so I asked Charlie to give me the quiz to keep me honest. To determine what kind of brain I was, I just had to answer "yes" or "no" to the following questions ( this is just a sampling):

1) When I'm finished using an item, I put it away immediately.

No. Only when I cook. Under all other situations I prefer the laundry basket method. Just walk around a room placing anything that doesn't belong in the basket. When you move to the next room, put back what belongs in that room and remove what doesn't.

3) Whether I'm looking at a work of art or a room, I tend to prefer symmetrical design.

Yes.

4) I like to move around my furniture a few times a year rather than stick with the same arrangement.

YES. It's a good thing no one in my household or my circle of friends is blind. I take that back, my niece is legally blind, but rarely comes to TN.

5) I'm the go to party planner for friends and family.

Yes. I can either turn a lump of coal into a diamond, or spend too much on flowers...your choice.

7) I love having a designated spot for each item in my closet or drawers.

Yes. As I wavered with this answer, Charlie pointed out the key word was "love" not "have". Don't we all love to have a designated spot for clothes? It doesn't mean we always put them where they belong.

9) I have a specific morning routine I follow to a T.

YES. And if for some reason I veer off the normal path, it leads to a very bizarre and unproductive day.

13) When I find a great dish at a restaurant, I order it every time I go there.

No. While yes, I am tempted to test their consistency- I tend to feel guilty not trying new things.

14) I often drive with the empty light flashing.

Really? No. What if the price of gas goes up 10 cents?

15) I always bring a list to the grocery store.

YES. If not, I spend WAY more than I should and my pantry will resemble a Y2K shelter.

18) My desk is filled with piles of papers, stick notes, and business cards.

Yes, but I only limit this to the middle drawer. The other drawers are organized, I promise.

19) I feel guilty if I don't follow the rules while playing board games.

No. No. No. Games are way more fun when you make up new rules as you go. If you ever play cards with me, keep a very close eye on me.

After the quiz results were tallied, Charlie gave me the news. I am not a left brain like I thought I was. I am a right brain. Charlie put it best when he said, " Lauren, you are a right brain, who is too much of a right brain, to attempt transforming into a left brain. Once you got started, you would realize how much work it takes and quit." At that moment, I felt crushed. All my life I felt like I was super organized and knew it was my personal quest to deliver order and structure to my household (even my office). After having a child, I realize that it's okay not to have it all together or organized, it just needs to be neat and sanitary. So thank you Emma (and Charlie), for bringing me the gift of organized clutter and toy chaos.