Brunch hard or go home

Last week, my friends and I FINALLY got together for brunch. I'm not saying that to be pretentious like we go to brunch and gallivant off to the Hampton's on the weekends, I'm saying that because we have been trying to get together for ONE brunch at Communal for literally a year.

We tried, without a reservation, over two months ago and failed. But this time, we came prepared... with a reservation a week in advance (not because you need to, but because getting the four of us free on a Saturday is like striking gold, pure gold).

First off, Communal is little, but boy is it busy. Part of the reason (at least I think, it's logic, right?) it's called communal is because you sit at a table with other people; for some that is weird, but for me. GREAT. Because I can creep on my neighbors food and ask them about it without having to get up and be weird. TOTALLY NATURAL.

So I creeped hard and decided to go with "the pine" which is a biscuit and gravy type deal, but better? How does it get better than biscuits and gravy, you might ask... let me tell you. 'The pine' is a biscuit and gravy combo, but with bacon, fried chicken, cheese, and egg. Guys. SO SO GOOD.

I also got the bruleed grapefruit which was good, but probably not something I'd get again (for me, brulee-ing half a grapefruit is not worthy of $4, but if that's your thing, go for it).

Overall 10/10 would recommend brunching at Communal if you happen to find yourself in Provo on a Saturday morning and happened to have made reservations in advance. Good food, good times with friends, what more could I ask for?

Someone told me I fell off, ooh I needed that

Yeah, that's right. Drake lyrics. That's how I'm going to start off, with Drake lyrics, judge me, I dare you.

But really, I did fall off. In like almost every aspect of my life, it's bad.

Do I see my friends? No.
Do I talk to anyone I don't see on a daily basis? Not really.
How have I been doing at my job? Actually kind of crappy.
When was the last time I did laundry (like actually folding it and you know, completing the task)? I don't know like 2 months ago... maybe?
How much sleep have I been getting? Like 5 hours on a good day... maybe

I'm not saying this to complain, don't get me wrong. I know I chose to be this busy all the time, but something's gotta give at this point. I'm stretched thin and really, I'm like a walking zombie. And Walking Zombie Lauren is no good for anyone.

Being, at most, half present is not good for anyone. Not good for work, not good for friends, not good for people around me, and it's definitely not good for me. I know it's impossible to be 100% present 100% of the time, but choosing to show up less than 60% everywhere I go is shitty.

So here's to making time for myself, being intentionally in what I choose to do, and getting back to what's important.

I love you all, even if I you never see me, even if I suck at texting, even if I never show up to your parties, I love you so, so much.


At some point, somewhere I learned that there was one kind of love and it was conditional, performance-based love. And really, it doesn't matter where I learned it or how I learned it. It's not about who's "fault" it is. It's about how I've spent the last few years trying to unlearn it.

I'm still trying to grasp that love is given freely and not earned. And even though I know that, there are days, weeks even, where I can't fathom why anyone would love me, when I am so obviously flawed and unworthy.

I don't know if I'll ever fully comprehend that I can mess up and it's okay; I'm not sure if I will ever completely understand that I can not be good, yet still be loved.

I get in over my head, and what's worse is that sometimes I get stuck in my own head. I get caught up in the thoughts that if anyone knew how weak I was, that they wouldn't think I was so great anymore. That if they know how small and fragile and unknowing I was, that I couldn't be wanted. That once they found out I wasn't superwoman, they'd realize they didn't need me and move on to the next superhero.

I remember being scared to tell my mom about my mistakes at 14 and when she asked why I didn't tell her sooner and I said I thought she wouldn't love me anymore. I wasn't afraid that she would be mad, I was terrified that she wouldn't love me anymore. (and let me be clear, this was in no way based off of the way she treated me)

I remember leaving home and hating my new job and crying every night, but thinking I couldn't go home because then I'd return a failure and no one would want me. Then one day, almost three years later, my sister told me a story about that time and how our mom said she didn't want me to leave, but wasn't worried because I knew that I could always come back. And I tried not to cry on the phone, because I didn't know.

So I guess the moral of the story is: you are loved beyond measure. And no accomplishment or failure will change that. You are loved. Completely. Entirely. And there is not a thing that can change that.

Even when it's hard to remember and even harder to believe, it doesn't stop it from being true.

more of a procrastinator

I used to think that it was hard for me to make decisions because I was indecisive, but I'm learning more and more that that's not the case.

It's not that I can't make a decision because I don't know what to do (because I do) it's just that I can't find it in me to pull the trigger. I've got a bad habit of holding on or holding back for too long. I've got a really bad habit of second guessing my intuition and, heck, even my past experiences. And that, THAT, is how I end up frozen in place for too long.

How do I break the cycle? I honestly don't know. But I'm trying, I am trying to re-learn what I've always known. That I can make decisions and that they can be right or they could be wrong, but no matter what, they'll get me closer to where I need to be.

faith + action. It's the only thing that's going to move me ahead.

I guess I'm just scared...

I could come up with a million things to do before writing here, but I am sitting at my computer now and trying. Like reeaaaaalllllllly trying to sit here and crank something out, but it’s hard.

Scratch that. It’s not hard. I’m just full of excuses and fill my time with other things that don’t necessarily matter as much. I put off writing here over and over and over again because “I just don’t have the time,” but oh, let me tell you a story about the things I DO have time for.

Last week, I had a full post thought out, ready to go, in my head, and I thought “Lo, this it! This is the time! You’ve got it!” but then somehow it didn’t get written… somehow, I got REEAALLLLL busy. With what you might ask? SUPER IMPORTANT THINGS that include, but are not limited to the following: taking a shower, driving to get a soda, taking a picture of said soda, cleaned my camera, eating a lunchable, scrolling through Instagram, posting jobs and answering emails for work, thinking about the logistics of moving my bed, doing some laundry, looking at domain names, sorting my books, and of course, making a list of things I was doing instead of writing the post that I meant to, the list goes on... (please also note, this started at like 9:45pm)

And now that thought, like many others, is gone with the wind, never to see the light of day. Tragic, I know.

So sure, I’m “busy”, but if I’m being honest, I’m actually just scared.

Scared of what? That someone might actually read this? That they might not like it? That people might not like me? I’m not quite sure exactly what it is, but I’ve let that fear stop me from doing what I love for a long long time.

So here I am, writing nonsense about not writing, because this matters to me. And I’ve finally (kind of) come to grips with the fact that people might not like what I write, and that’s okay, because I’m writing for me. And if that reaches someone, somewhere, and resonates with them, that’s cool – but if not, that’s okay too.

You gotta start somewhere

It is so hard for me to write here, and I think part of it is because I can be SO edited here.

Let me explain.

I write a ton. Like notebooks on notebooks of my thoughts and ideas are sitting on a shelf right now, mostly in Moleskine journals. And when I write it down, I have to think about it and I can't really delete it (I can cross it out, but I reserve that for colossal mistakes). I can't edit as I go. It's just there. And that stuff, well if I am being honest, THAT stuff is gold.

Then I get here, online and hit the backspace key more than I should. And not because I have a ton of typing errors (which surprise, sometimes I do) but because it's so easy to second guess myself and rewrite what I am trying to say. So then it turns out like crap and it kills me.

But I can't put what's on paper, on screen. It's weird. I'm weird. Part of it is because they are like pieces of my soul and only like 4 people ever have seen a glimpse of those notebooks, and I might just be scared to send my soul out to the world like that.

I digress, really, I just have to try to write good stuff here, and I think that can only happen if I stop trying to only write good stuff.

So I'm going to try more regularly, and even if it isn't great, at least I've started. As Anne Lamott said "almost all good writing begins with terrible first efforts. You need to start somewhere."

And that somewhere, for now, is here.

Farmer's Market Finds

If you've been around for a while, you know how much I write and that more often than not I have my Moleksine journal with me. You know, just in case I have some good thoughts to write down or something.

I've been pretty faithful to the good old Moleskine and have filled up quite a few in the past few years, but when I was at the SLC Farmer's market this weekend, I found something that could possible make me switch up my Moleskine ways.

While walking around I stumbled across a stand that looked like it was selling old books, and I saw an old copy of Where The Wild Things are (one of my childhood favorites) and had to stop in. I picked it up and realized that, BONUS, it is actually rebound AND a journal! Be still my soul, right?! 

Red Barn Collections rebinds books, adds pages, and creates a journal out of old books. They have a range of books at their stand (and even more in their warehouse, so you can check if they have a specific book you want!) from children's to mystery to reference books and even board games!
I am a little obsessed with the children's books because they have the whole story in the journal and it just makes me feel all young and nostalgic. I ended up buying Where the Wild Things Are and Shel Silversteins "A Light in the Attic".

I'm so excited to start writing in these (can't start yet because there are still a few pages left in my trusty Moleskine) and see how it goes!