My Hometown

Even in the most picturesque of places, cities, towns, and counties, I’ve missed you.  I ached for the mist of salty sea water, the sight of naval ports, and ships. I wanted to escape, and run back to you, remember those old houses, neighborhoods, and parks I used to play on.  Remember what it was like to wake up to you every morning. This is my love for my hometown.

If I could I would go back to the bus stop where I met a feisty, fiery girl who helped me adjust to this new suburban city life known as Hampton Roads. She pushed me, tearing down my shyness, pulling out the girl in me, and stood tall for me when I couldn’t stand the bullies. I used those lessons to protect my second best friend, when I grew apart from the fiery one.  She was so much smaller than me I felt I had to be her defender. We laughed, wore matching outfits, and exchanged gossip like stocks on Wall Street. If I could I would go back to that line of duplexes next to the park. That’s where she lived. I can see us walking back to her house after band camp, planning a weekend of girlie sleep overs. Times, boyfriends, rifts, and backstabbing tore us apart. If I could I’d stand on the sidewalk and go back to that moment I knew I had to walk away. It would not be the last time I would have to do this. So much of my hometown reminds me of the reunion, the fights, and the realization that we couldn’t be sisters anymore. We couldn’t be the way we once were. This is my hometown.

 

While I’m lingering in my past adolescence, I’d walk past my old middle school. I went to my first dance there, tried to shed my Tomboy ways there, and crushed hard for boys who didn’t notice me there.  Realized growing up was hard there.  My high school is not far from here.  The entrance to the school is a long paved road leading to large parking lot.  Back in time I’d stand in that parking lot and wish that my adolescence self knew half of what I know now. I’d take a deep breath, and inhale the pleasures and the pains of my teen life. The marching band practices, the dances, the boys, the first kiss, and the first heart ache. The football field and track is locked, keeping my memories of the football games, marching band performances, and girlfriend secrets under the bleachers.  This is my hometown.

I like to remember sitting outside our first brown town home, fresh from Mississippi, bright eyed and naïve. I wondered what this place called Virginia Beach had in store for us. I’d get asked out to a dance for the first time in front of that brown house, fight with my friend over the same boy, and escape the vicious teeth of a pit bull that chased me on top of a car.  I like to drive through all the old neighborhoods we lived in. We lived in so many houses. Places that contained my dreams, my hurt, my family, and housed the bitter divorce battle that almost consumed us.  This is my hometown.

These sidewalks lead me home then lead me away to my adulthood. These roads know the map of my adolescence, the miles I logged to be near love, the sadness I felt when my dreams didn’t true out right. All the interstates, tunnels, and roads I traveled when I had to leave you to discover the world and become me. Tears cover those paths. Whenever I left to go to another job, another love, another city, another town I never stopped thinking about you. Those tunnels used to scare me so much, made me feel boxed in, trapped, and worried. I know now I ached most because I was leaving you. It was as if rough hands gripped my heart, and squeezed it until it burned. This is my love for my hometown.

That old ranch house is where I thought I’d spend my last days with my mom. She confessed to us cancer was invading her body, and our lives.  The words cracked into me, leaving me with excruciating shock. I remember running to the street that night so she couldn’t see me cracking, tearing, ripping, and falling apart. A boyfriend I no longer call my own held me as I wept.  Friends brought casseroles, pies, cakes, and so much love our house seemed to radiate warmth. Her hair fell out, surgeons took her breast, but God gave brought her back to me. There in that same rancher where I thought we’d lose it all, God restored us in a way I never knew possible. We are a family, healed, reunited, and conquering the past. This is my hometown.  Then I drive back to the new home where we became a family again, and hurt became a distant memory.

As I return to you, I am different now and so are you.  I am braver, stronger, and more accepting of the roads I had to travel to get back to you.  You have changed with your new restaurants, developments, and people. But I know underneath we still know other.  At any moment we can go back to those childhood beginnings here, the ripping, numbing discomfort of those growing pains, and the release of being breaking free from those bondages.  Now I get to carve out a new chapter with you, in a new home of my own, and a new way. There is no saying where this path will end, but I am so overjoyed we have another chance to write a turn a new page in our story. This is my love for my hometown.

Inspired by Adele 19 ‘Hometown Glory

Framed Mystery Couple

I don't know who these people are. They're a cute Latin, no Asian, or maybe Filipino couple. I'm really not sure. One thing is for sure they're in love. A handsome man is hugging a woman and  planting a kiss on her forehead. She is wrapped in his arms, looking at the camera, smiling, looking secure, and happy. I really have no clue who this couple, but they are pictured in the black frame on my dresser. It's a simple black frame, with the silver letters 'XOXO' at the bottom.

I'm not sure where the couple is. It kind of looks like a beach somewhere. Wherever they are, they are full of joy, and love. It must be cold, because they're both wearing jackets, and holding each other tight. In their eyes you see hope, and the beauty of romance in full bloom. They have shared memories, jumped hurdles to know each other, and the scaled walls  to enter each others hearts.

I have no idea what brought them together, how they met, or who asked who out first. They reside in a frame in my room, because they remind me their type of love is possible, worthy, and attainable. I am so full of so much faith that God has an incredible love out there for me, I bought this picture frame of this couple that will one day freeze a moment in time for me and my love.

Listen this is not some lonely, sappy girl ode or me pleading to a star for a prince to come whisk me away. This is believing. Psalms 37:4 says 'Take Delight in the LORD, and He will give you the desires of your heart.' And I desire to be loved, wildly, crazy, deeply by a man who loves God, and loves life.

I can't take full credit for the idea. I was watching or reading Joel Osteen a few months back. He mentioned believing in God's promises so much that you claim them in advance of the blessing. When you have faith God will bring the desires of your heart to pass. I am claiming this blessing before it arrives.

My pastor always remind me of Psalm 37:4 when I get down on my myself, or complain of yet another guy disappointing me. The words of Psalm 37:4 give me peace that because I delight in the LORD, He not only knows the desires of my heart, HE wants to give them to me. It's such a simple scripture, but powerful. He wants to shower us with his love, but you first must have faith.  I have given God so much of myself, my dreams, my heart, why then didn't I give him my desire to be loved ? .

I thought to myself, self this is God we're talking about here. Like the Sunday school song says He has the whole world in His hands. That's a lot to carry, I don't want to bother him with my little prayer for a partner. That seems silly when so many people are hurting, aching, and needing in this world.

After this conversation something in me said say, 'Lauren it is not silly to pray for such things.' It's not silly at all. That is the beauty of loving, and praising God, He desires to fulfill my heart as much as He desires to save, help, and heal this world. It's mind blowing to consider that.

So that is why there is a strange, Latin, maybe Asian, or Filipino couple is framed in my bedroom. They are holding a place for the mighty, great, huge intense love God is going to bring my way. I have so much faith in this waiting doesn't seem so hard anymore.

That Kind of Man

A little something I wrote a few years ago when I was so deeply in love.. one of my first intense adult loves... I like looking back on these moments. It's lets me know that real, deep love is possible and I'm worthy of it.

        He started as a mental fantasy. The kind of man you envision when you have a bored moment to yourself. The kind of man you stare at from afar and turn away when he catches you staring. For a few moments you and that kind of man drift away to a warm, summer day. The two of you are having a picnic like in the movies. He feeds you strawberries and you looking simply gorgeous in your spring dress as you devour his presence. You lean in for a kiss and suddenly your boss is tapping you on your shoulder to get back to work. You realize you drifted off into a dream and you try so hard to put that kind of man out of your brain. Sometimes I feel all good dreams stay just good dreams. But if you are a hopeless romantic you believe in the possibility of that kind of man loving you. The thoughts send your heart, and mind on a mission to find him. You are thinking of the endless possibilities of you and him. The places you will go, the people you will meet, and the love you will have. When I met "that kind of man" I tried desperately to fight falling for him.

 I returned from my winter holiday refreshed and relaxed; but I dreaded going back to work. But there he was “that kind of man”. The man I said I would forget over my holiday break. Seeing him again made me weak, and uneasy. I tried to avoid his eye contact as I walked passed him. He stood there seeming a little disappointed that I didn't give him my time. I tried to act like seeing him didn’t affect me, but when I got home I kept seeing him his face, smelling his cologne. I kept replaying his smile and the awkward hello we shared. What do I do with these feelings?

I told myself I could not have these feelings. We worked together, and it would only make things hard. What started as friendly flirtation at work, turned into an outside-work friendship; one that introduced me to the sport of hockey, made me stand in freezing, gusty, 40 degree weather to watch him play soccer.

 

It was a friendship that was once handshakes and smiles that progressed to hugs and warm embraces. Everyday got more interesting. While I’ll tried to deny it, there was obviously something between us. What that something was intrigued me enough to accept more friendly visits, more sweet text messages, and more day dreaming at work. In the workplace we act as all co-workers do, cordial and polite. We don’t talk about the great time we had together, or how fine he looks in those booty hugging pants. Even now I get distracted. We act professional and later we’ll discuss office politics with one another and laugh.

        What if this friendship with “that kind of man” could be something great? One of those relationships you dream about, or one of those friendships that last beyond a work place romance? 

        My infatuation with him is deeper than how beautiful he is. For someone so handsome, some of the smallest compliments can make him blush. There is something adorable about that. He is the kind of guy who appreciates good comedy and laughing. We would find ourselves quoting the same Dave Chappelle one liners. He is the kind of guy that still opens doors even though you can do if for yourself. He is the kind of guy that lets you order first. The kind of guy whose voice you save on voicemail to replay because you want to cherish how he says, "I miss you honey." He is the kind of man who calls you gorgeous, cutie, and beautiful for no reason. 

 

        He is the kind of man I could fall for. The kind of man I could love.

   

Kardashian Evolution: My Love of Reality T.V.

Another departure from my normal ramblings on love, life, and relationships.

I love reality television, well most reality television. For some reason I am starting to tire of celebrity driven singing competitions, dance-offs, and network produced love fests like the Bachelor. Also,  I am no longer a fan of MTV's 'The Real World' one of the reality television pioneers. It's lost it authenticity.

I was a huge fan of 'The Real World' when it came out. The show looked into the lives of seven, strangers picked to live in a house, have their lives taped -you know the rest. At first the show tackled some really weighty issues. Remember the first 'Real World' in New York with the proud black man versus the pure almost naïve white girl talking about race relationships ? That was some good stuff. Now the show is about picking hot chicks who will get drunk, make dumb decisions, and jump naked into the 'Real World' pool or hot tub. The show went Hollywood much like I feel the Kardashians have, losing what make them so likable in the first place.

As a fan of reality television, I'm no dumbie. Now that reality television is such a hit, the reality is lost. Producers make story lines, plan crafty plots, and people are casted as characters. On one of my other favorite reality series, 'The Hills' and 'Laguna Beach' all the characters admit to following story lines to some degree. I feel like I needed that set up before I talked about the evolution of the Kardashians namely Kim's changes from a fame hungry, money driven bitch to real seemingly insecure person desperate to stay famous and relevant.

I've watched the show since the very beginning. Before the girls had glam squads, endorsements, and celebrity husbands. The show was at its realest then. The family entered the reality business shortily after Kim's now infamous sex-tape was introduced to computers, and bachelor pads across the country. I loved the girls the most those first few seasons. It's when we see them at their most humble and real.

Kim's hunger for fame is evident from the start, and it's clear the show is set up as a means of making her a household name. Mission accomplished. I love these early seasons, but it's also a little hard to watch. You see Kim rub in her sister's face that she can afford a nice car, get a perfume deal behind their back, and take any chance she can to call them jealous. It's ugly. You see an early Kris Jenner, the momager, push Kim to host, promote, like, and sell anything she can to boost her star power. Then there's the couple of episodes when Kim starts to get press and it goes to her head. She ditches her responsibilities at the store she started with her sisters, and turns into a first class diva.

Why do we love Kim I ask? Just kidding. During those first seasons we all fell in love with the sister squabbles, and the girls  seemingly real person problems. It also doesn't hurt they're all beautiful. We all could see a bit of ourselves in at least one of the sisters. Maybe not Kourtney's relationship with Scott. That was just a hot mess.

Those first seasons made for some good television. In the current season of 'Kim and Kourtney Take Miami' I've noticed something strange has happened. Is it me or is Kim a lot nicer, sweeter, and fun this season ? She is totally not the bitch we saw in those other seasons. She seems like the kind of girl you might actually hang with in real life. There is something refreshing and human about seeing such a gorgeous woman struggle with insecurity. The pop culture diva in me wants to believe that her hip/hop baby Daddy has something to do with this.

Maybe KW has taught a homegirl to relax a bit, smell the rich roses she can afford, and exhale. This season Kim drinks which she claimed to never had done before. She is funny, easy-going, and actually seems like a cool chick. It's a far cry from the Kim of yesteryear. I kind of like it.

The cynic in me is wondering though if Kim finally realized that being nice sells, that people are really digging the good girls these days. The good girl is a better seller than a money hungry, fame obsessed diva. Khloe is case in point.

Khloe has become more popular, loveable, and relatable than any of her sisters. It doesn't hurt that she has marriage many women admire to an NBA star no less. But, the girl has opened up about her fertility, her weight issues, and her insecurity. We women reality show watchers love those types of reveals. It humanized her and made us feel we could connect to her. I wonder if Kim decided to take a page out of the Khloe book and give being a cool chick a try. I think Kim and mama Kris have taken noticed, and told a home girl to lighten up her character, chill out a bit.

The show was always supposed to about Kim's life, Kim's sisters, Kim, Kim, Kim. It's definitely served it's purpose the girl is loaded, and has her hand in everything. But, it seems her sister or Khloe at least could eclipse her star power if she's not careful, and Kim K ain't about sharing no spotlight. I think this may be why we're seeing a much sweeter, kinder, funnier Kim. Whether we're seeing the real Kim or television produced Kim is unclear. There's definitely been a change.

But, we may not have this for much longer, word is KW is not a fan of the chose, and plans to pull his baby mama off the minute she drops his baby. Sucks I was really starting to like this Kim.

Why I go nuts during March

This is a break from my usual musings about love, life, and relationships.

This is the one time of the year every girl, person, or non-sports fan can get lost in the craze that is known as ‘March Madness’. It’s also when a sports clueless, non-athlete like myself will drop phrases like, “Did you see we’re taking on a Number 4 seed this weekend? “

"We really need to step up our defense this game."

“That conference has become very competitive. I hear their starting guard has NBA potential.”

The rest of the year I’m l like, “What is their record this year?  “So what is that guy’s position again?”

It’s so seem a little backwards and crazy that this time of year births new sports fans seemingly overnight. Offices are competing to see who can predict the winner of the big tourney. Social media explodes with college alums cheering for their schools. Bars are filled with loud, rowdy bball fans. I love this time of year, and I won’t lie I’m one of those people who catch ‘March Madness’ fever especially since I’m an alumna of the once Cinderella team known as Virginia Commonwealth University Rams.  

I’m a mediocre fan at best during the rest of the year. During the season I keep in touch with the Rams from a distance. I read a few sports pages about their season; follow the play-by-play of games on Twitter. I follow our amazing Coach Shaka Smart, the VCU fans twitter handles, and every once in a while I’ll find myself cruising the VCU sports website for highlights.  For some reason my mediocrity is pushed into full on crazy, Rams fan during March Madness. This year was no different.  

Since I felt myself yelling at television screens, and engaging in Facebook rants about how great the Ram are, I’ve been trying to understand why this happens to me and a lot of girly girls. While this may not be true for everyone, I think there is something special about seeing your alma mater play on a national stage like the NCAA tournament. Seeing fellow students, and alumni filling the stadium in their black and yellow shirts, I feel myself swelling up with pride. Seeing those guys play, duke it out, and leave it all on the paint I’m reminded of those college nights I spent cheering in our stadium in Richmond, the Siegel Center.

 

It was right across the street from the dorm I stayed in. I’d toss on my yellow VCU shirt, and grab a seat up close to the players. When I first started at VCU, the games were not packed, and sold out like they are now. Except for when we were playing rivals like University of Richmond, George Mason, or Old Dominion I usually had no problem finding a seat. Those nights me, my girlfriends, classmates, and guys I was feeling would cheer, yell, and enjoy all that was college life.

Players graduated, coaches left, but each year the program no one heard of was getting better and more respected. I remember when VCU beat Duke in 2007. That buzzer beating shot from Eric Maynor was golden. Man that was a good night. The pride I felt from our small program beating such a Goliath of a team was indescribable especially since I watched that game from a journalism conference in North Carolina. I cheered anyway.

For a while it felt like coaches were coming to VCU to get their cred in the college balling world only to leave us, but we kept our heads high. I remember how pumped we all were when Shaka Smart came to VCU. He had this energy and desire to invest in the team. We all knew we had snagged something special.  He pushed us to new heights, and it swept us all off our feet when we beat Kansas to punch our ticket to the Final Four two years ago. I remember how the students stormed, partied, and ran on the streets of Richmond to celebrate. Crazed VCU fans surrounded news reporters in their live shots about the game. It was amazing time to be Richmond. Bars, and restaurants filled up for watch parties. I remember being in Richmond at a Watch party during Selection Sunday. The energy the River City exudes, all routing, cheering for the hometown team, it's amazing. We didn’t take home the big prize in our Final Four run, but it was an amazing ride for everyone on-board.

Those basketball games are so much more than the minutes those players put on the court. It’s our school pride, our memories, the moments we shared, and the amazing journey we’ve all witnessed this program go through. So yes, excuse me if I go little nuts when VCU is playing in the Big Dance. That school means so much to me, and I am so proud I earned my education there. My school pride is drenched in the memories at the Siegel Center, the meals at Shafer, and the celebrations on the streets of Richmond. I’m a VCU Ram for life, but I’m a lot crazier in March.