117 laps to go.

2 commutes a day x 5 days a week x 4 weeks a month x 3 months – 1.5 days of March. The drive from Fountain View to Kirby and back is an endurance race, and I am in it for the gold. Slow-twitch muscles engaged, blinker on.

Passing the street I will live on May 31 of this year, 9 minutes in to my 30-minute commute makes my skin crawl that much more when shuffling through the usual exhaust and flashing marquees.

I refuse to believe elderly go missing.

I imagine the man in that 1996 blue Tahoe really just wanted an escape. He wanted to get in his car and DRIVE without someone bothering him about phones with oversized buttons. Maybe he just took an extra long trip to the grocery store. Maybe he just got stuck in traffic like the rest of us.

So close. Just a few more weeks and a couple more miles to go.

I feel the need to reintroduce myself. Hello my name is Lauren and I like to write when I’m not doing other things.

A little bit of what’s been going on lately… (since I’m currently at home sick and banned from infecting the rest of the team)

I waste tens of dollars each month buying food products I will never, ever eat.

I do this because I have an underlying morbid curiosity that can be cheaply satiated with strangely flavored jams and dollar store trinkets.

I do this because every once in a while, I strike gold.

Exhibits A and B: Out-of-this-world, best grocery store salsa I’ve found in a LONG time, and some good, cheap hummus (although be warned, garlic lovers will have you burping ugly for days. Recommend mixing with original flavored to tone it down).

Exhibits C and D: Reasons why you should always read packaging carefully. This January I learned that “smoked” almonds means “we used the flavoring from BBQ potato chips and soaked these almonds in them.” Popping one of these in your mouth is shocking, unsettling and gross.

Equally disappointing was the new White Chocolate Almond flavor from Blue Bell. I bought it excitedly, expecting it to be similar to TCBY’s white chocolate mousse frozen yogurt (an endless addiction that has me 11 punches down and 1 purchase to go for a free cup). The reality is akin to a cheap vanilla – flat and plain with a whip-creamy sort of flavor, chunks of broken almonds and absolutely no almond flavoring added to the mix. Bland.

I suppose I could stick to what I know and never end up with gallons of wasted, old ice-crystalized ice cream sitting in my freezer reminding me of the $6 I could have used elsewhere, but I think it’s important to remember that even the small risks are worth taking.

Cheap thrills.

If you marry impatiently, register for practical things.

Oh dear, 22-year-old apartment bride, there is no heartbreak like a brand new, odd-numbered set of plates you would never have been able to afford on your own. Anything used for entertaining will only weigh you down on your search for the perfect 2-2. Choose your appliances carefully or forever begrudge the post-honeymoon discovery of “limited counterspace.”

If you were practical in planning your way to the alter and will return from it to a permanent home with unshared walls, indulge.

You’ve paid your dues and have the bridesmaid dresses to prove it – in Macy’s, scan freely for delicate stemware and heavy mountains of silver and china. Don’t hold back from choosing the things you’ve always wanted – with room to display and entertain, anything beautiful broken will be a reflection of life lived full.

My rather strong-willed sister has a list of things she will never do once she is a parent.

Aaron and I are clearing out the bookshelves, going through old books.

A: …and the best book of all time.

L: Animal Farm? That’s the best book of all time?

A: Yes.

L: …like “bah, ram, ewe?”