My Twentysomething Life

I Do, Make, Read, Watch, Eat…

Real Nails or Fake Nails?

First instinct response: Real.  I’ve only had fake nails once in my entire life and it didn’t end well.

The only time I have ever had fake nails was for my senior prom.  I went with my friends to get them done and then I had an honor band concert at Bradley University.  While I was there, I was playing cards with some friends before the concert.  In the game we were playing, you had to slap the jacks when they came up (I know it sounds like “Slap Jack”, but it was a little more complicated than that.”  Well, this one time I went to slap the jack at the same time someone else went to.  Our hands connected and off popped my pinky nail fake nail.  Only it wasn’t just the fake nail that came off…no, it pulled my real nail off as well!!  So I had 9 fake nails for my senior prom and no pinky nail.  So I’ve been scared of fake nails ever since.

But I do have to say that I have a very bad habit of biting my nails and I think fake nails would help that because I wouldn’t be able to get to my real nails.  And my nails would just look better all around.

And if I ever did get fake nails, I can assure you that they would never ever look like this:
ewEw.  Not gonna lie, these kinda creep me out.

What about you?  Real or fake nails?

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it’s that time!

Today’s story is about two sisters.  Can you guess who?oldestAmanda and I are three years apart and this picture shows our early relationship, and our relationship for most of our lives so far.  Smiling, and yet she is trying to strangle me.

I would say that for quite a long time Amanda and I had a love-hate relationship, but most of the time it felt like hate.

We would pick on each other, get on each other’s nerves, and so on.  Some of you would think this was just normal sister stuff, but I would say that sometimes it seemed more than that.

Amanda will tell you, like she did in her toast at my wedding, that one time I threw a ball of foil at her, which hit her in the eye, and made her miss a very important concert.  I would tell you that she was a wimp and overreacted.

I would tell you that Amanda always hung around with my friends and bugged us.  She would tell you that my friends liked hanging out with her too.  This may be true, but I’ve never understood it.

We have had to write the “tame your tongue” chapter many times because of how we talked to each other.  I will be honest, we were pretty mean to each other.  Pretty terrible actually.  But in the end we would hug, even if we were made to, and laugh it off.

Let me tell you one story that I love to tell about me and Amanda.  This one time in high school, my mom would park halfway between the high school and where she worked so that we could walk to the car and get home.  This one day after school, Amanda and I were walking to the car, and she gave me a shove, trying to push me off the sidewalk.  I did not like this, so with my right hand, I tried to backhand her in the arm.  She put up her arm to block it, which happened to have her watch on it.  My knuckles shattered the watch’s glass face and I started bleeding.  We kept walking to the car and the bleeding wasn’t stopping.  I think Amanda kindly gave me a leaf to stop the bleeding.  And she also called mom and said, “LAUREN IS BLEEDING PROFUSELY!!”  Well, that wasn’t entirely true.  It was more dripping, and mom just about had a heart attack.  We picked mom up on the way to the doctor and the doctor said it was not bad enough for stitches, but she did have to glue me up and I had to wear a splint.  That is probably the most dramatic, and funny of our fights, where there was actually blood shed.

Since then, the 3 years that I was away for college helped our relationships grow.


When she came to Milligan for her freshman year of college, I was a senior.  It was during this time that an actual friendship began to grow between us, which I would say we had never had before.


She was the maid of honor at my wedding, and it was great to have her next to me.


When Amanda went home for the summer I really missed her.  She has become one of my best friends.  I don’t know what I will do when she goes away for this summer.


While I used to find her annoying and aggravating, now I enjoy spending time with her and talking to her.  She is great.  I love you sister!

Check out my pinterest board in her honor:

I love awesome sibling stories.  Do you all have any to share?

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A Years Worth of Changes-A Story

Today’s title may have made this story seem more serious than it is actually going to be.  This story is about hair.  My hair’s years worth of changes.  All of these changes happened my freshman year of college.  Some of the choices I made, I would make again, some I would not.  But they are all fun to look back on.1When I first went to college at Anderson, this is what my hair looked like.  Long, curly, and brown.  Looking back, I wish my hair looked like this again.  Hopefully it will get back to this one day because I really like it here.  Since my parents had never let me dye my hair when I lived at home, I decided that I had always wanted to have red hair with gold streaks.  So I tried it out:
2It looked a little funky, but all in all I liked it.  It did not last very long however.  Soon I went black.  I don’t remember why exactly, but I never regretted it.
3I really love my black hair.  If I had the opportunity, I would go back to black in an instant.  Up until this point, I had kept my length through all of these changes.  Next it got cut short:
*Also notice, the pierced nose, which I loved!

*Also notice, the pierced nose, which I loved!

One day Bethany and I decided it would be a really good idea to bleach some sections of our hair and dye them.  She dyed hers red and I was dying mine blue.5See, blue.  Well, much to my surprise, it did not turn out blue, but instead…
Yes, bright green.  I embraced it.  It was pretty fun to have green hair, until the green started to fade and all that was left was the bleached sections of  my hair.
7Yeah…not so cute.  Soon after this my parents paid to have my hair color stripped and dyed back to brown.  I also had to promise not to dye it again, and four years later I have kept my promise.  By the way, check out how young Adam and I are!  Crazy.
Well, I hope you enjoyed this story of my hair evolution.  It was a fun time in my life.

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Only One Fight

Today’s storytime is about a friend, and a fight.  I have a friend that I have known almost my entire life.  I don’t remember the details of how old we were when we first became friends; I don’t even have a memory of when we first met.  In my mind it’s almost like it has always been.  Her name is Janna and she has been an important part of my life for as long as I can remember.  We didn’t go to the same school, and we weren’t neighbors.  We met each other at church.  I think we were in elementary school when we met, and we stayed friends through middle school, my moving away, high school, and both of us going to college.  During all this time, we have only had one major fight.  And this I remember clearly.

Throughout our friendship there have been many sleepovers.  One weekend when we were young, probably elementary school age, Janna got to stay at my house for several nights.  It was the last day, and my mother says that we were finally getting sick of each other.  She took us around to some garage sales, probably because she didn’t know what else to do with us.

At one garage sale, I stumbled upon a purple tuft of hair with eyes and a sign that said, “Hang in There.”  I was in love with what I would later name “Mr. Fuzzy.”  I ran up to my mom to show her and Janna said she also liked it and would like to get it.  My mom decided that since Janna was the guest she got to buy it.  Well I thought this was the meanest, most unfair thing that she could have done.  I was so mad.  I don’t know how long I was mad for, but probably a few days.  But I soon got over it.

Several years went by and in seventh grade I found out that my dad had gotten a new job and we were moving four hours away!  I was devastated.  All of my friends, my home, my church, and Janna were in Crown Point, Indiana.  Our group of friends had a going away get together at some point before we moved and at this party Janna handed me a gift.  What should I find wrapped up inside?  None other than Mr. Fuzzy!  I probably cried or something, I don’t remember.  So, Mr. Fuzzy moved with me to Illinois.

Janna and I continued to write letters, make phone calls, and visit each other over the years.  A year and a half ago last week she stood with me as I got married!  And at the rehearsal dinner the night before, I passed on a gift to her:
lauren and janna
And I know our friendship will be life-long because as Mr. Fuzzy says: We “hang in there!”

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Gather ’round, it’s Storytime!

I love stories.  The reason I love to read books and watch movies is all because of stories!  I also really like to tell stories, even though Adam doesn’t always appreciate them.  There is just something about stories.  At least once a week we’ll have storytime.  You can get your blanket and your carpet square and gather around as I tell you a story, most likely from my life.  I hope you enjoy this because I know I will.

This is a story I have been telling for a long time.  It was probably one of the funniest moments of my life.  I don’t remember what grade I was in when this happened, but the important part of the story is that it was the first year I could go to wilderness camp at camp L.R.C.A.  And I was pumped.  All my friends were going and it was going to be awesome!

I was so excited to go to camp because it was a week away from my family, all of my girl friends were in my hogan, and it was going to be a really fun week of wilderness camp.  You may be wondering what a hogan is, well let me tell you.  Well, here’s a picture: Wilderness-Hogan
As you can see, a hogan is a shed out in the woods with wooden planks nailed to the sides so you have 6 bunk beds.  The windows are holes cut out and a screen put in.  There is no way to be quiet exiting the hogan because the door will always slam shut behind you.  And yes, this is living.  I looked forward to sleeping in a hogan.  And since we’re girls, we all brought pool mattresses to inflate to sleep on.

So here we are, five girls and one counselor in the hogan.  The first night she went over the rules:  no boys or food in the hogan.  That’s pretty simple.  So we go about our week of wilderness camp and one night my friend Jessica pulled out a bag of twizzlers for us to share as we sat around and talked.  We didn’t think anything of it.

The next few days we started noticing weird things.  For one, Jessica’s suitcase had holes in it.  There were holes in some of our t-shirts and we weren’t really sure what was going on.  The camp nurse had a suspicion and asked us if we had food in our hogan.  Jessica admitted that she had brought a bag of twizzlers in, and so the nurse decided a search of the hogan was in order.

As we were cleaning our stuff out, we stumbled across mouse dropping throughout the hogan.  We took all of our stuff outside to search through it.  There I was, cleaning out my suitcase, pulling chewed articles of clothing out one by one, not noticing a big hole in the bottom of my suitcase.

One of the last things that I pulled out was a pair of shorts.  I was holding the shorts sideways by the right pant leg, and then I see, in the other pant leg, a mother mouse and two babies.

Well, I screamed my head off, dropped the shorts and ran away.  One of the scariest/most embarrassing moments of my life.

We took the hogan food rules much more seriously after this incident.  It has become one of my favorite stories to laugh about.

Moral of the story:  the next time you sleep in a hogan and someone tells you not to bring food in, listen to them or your shorts will be full of mice.

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Almost in Handcuffs

Today I will tell you about the scariest experience of my life.

It was my sophomore year of high school.  Over Christmas break, the marching band went down to Florida to go to Disney.  We marched and played in the New Year’s parade and did all kinds of fun things.  The trip had been awesome.

After we performed in the parade we got to spend the rest of the day at Disney.  After the first fireworks of the new year, we all piled onto our buses and started the long trip back to Illinois.  After the full week we had, we were exhausted.  We woke up when the bus stopped somewhere in Georgia for us to get some breakfast.

We piled out of the buses and formed a very long line inside a McDonalds.  We were all tired and hungry, me especially because I don’t sleep very well in a car.  I got up to the register and ordered a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit meal.  The employee told me the price, and I handed her a $10 bill that I had gotten as change in the park.  She took it, looked at it, looked at me, and then walked to the back.  When she came back she told me that the $10 bill was counterfeit.  I said okay.  She said she would have to keep it and give it to the police.  Again, I said okay.  So then I paid again and stood to the side waiting for my food.

The employee kept staring at me as 20 students ordered and got their food, and I was still waiting.  I was wondering why I hadn’t gotten my food.  And the employee just kept staring at me.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see two policeman enter into the McDonalds.  One was short and round the other super tall and huge, very intimidating.  They walked up to the counter, and the next thing I knew, the employee was pointing at me and saying, “She’s the counterfeiter!  She admitted it!”


“No I didn’t.”

“Yes she did.  I told her it was counterfeit and she said okay!”

“What was I supposed to say?”

At this point the policeman came over to me and said, “Can you come over here, we need to ask you some questions.”  Well I couldn’t really say no…

So they pulled me off to the side and my band director and a few concerned band parents came along with me.  So we were talking, and I was answering their questions, and my band director and I tried to explain to them that we had been at Disney and that’s where I had gotten that change from and I didn’t know it was counterfeit.  At one point a very rambunctious band dad said to the policeman, “You can’t do anything to this girl, she didn’t do anything wrong.”  And then the policeman said, “Sir, we can do whatever we want.  I can talk this girl to jail if I thought it was necessary.”

WHAT?!!!  Hold up band dad—stop talking!  Jail?!  Woah-woah-woah.

Soon we had the whole problem worked out and the police decided that I wasn’t a criminal.  As soon as the police left I broke down and cried.  I had been so scared.  I don’t know how I had held it together for that long.  One very nice band mom asked if I had ever gotten my food and I said no, and that I had even paid for it twice.  She went up to the counter and demanded to know why no one had given me my food and they said because they were afraid that once I got my food I would get away.  So I finally had some food, but I was not very hungry at this point.  It took me a while to calm down, but I was finally able to.

I was afraid to use the money in my wallet for the rest of the trip home.

And that, is the most traumatic moment in my life.

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everyone loves a good love story

Since February is only two hours away, I wanted to kick off your February with a love story.

Once upon a time, there were two couples who were best friends in college.  One of these couples found out that they would soon be parents.  The other couple came to visit and celebrate with them.  At this time, the other woman felt sick.  They did not realize it at the time, but this was the beginning of a love story.  In February a little girl was born, and in July a little boy.

The families did not live close to each other, but they got together every few years.


The little boy and girl grew up knowing each other and each considered the other one as a friend.


It got harder and harder for the families to get together, and each family continued to grow.  They would get together whenever they could, even if it were long times in between.

While the boy and girl were looking at colleges, they were both interested in the school where their families had gone.  The two families went to visit the school together.  This meeting rekindled the friendship between the boy and girl and they began to talk more frequently.

The boy followed in the footsteps of his parents, but the girl chose another school, eight hours away from the boy.  They continued talking, and at some point they realized, “hey, I really like this person.”  They began talking more and more and more.  And on April 10, 2009 they had their first official date.  He came to her home.  They want out for pizza and ice cream, watched her favorite movie at the time, and went for a walk.  It had been such a great date and she didn’t want him to leave.

Our First Date :)

Our First Date 🙂

They both went back to school and during the summer saw each other quite often.  During the summer the girl decided to transfer to the school where the boy was attending.  And she was much happier there.  They continued to date for another year and a half, enjoying every minute of it.

And then on August 1, 2010, he got down on one knee and asked her to marry him.  She was very excited and she said yes.  The next year flew by and they planned the wedding.  And on August 6th, 2011, they said I do.  Next week they will have been married for one and a half years and it has flown by.


Many of you will know this, but some of you may not (and the pictures have probably given it away), this love story is my favorite, because it’s my own.  It’s also my favorite story to tell.

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