Hate is a strong word. But these are strong feelings.

"Life sucks and then you die." 

I've never doubted that this proverbial gem from my jaded father is true. But i've come to find that it is  particularly true if you decide to subject yourself to attending a neo-facist university.  

I HATE BYU.

{this picture is creepy. attending byu is even creepier.}
Why the recent onslaught of rage directed at the Lord's University?

Storytime: This semester I took a class, required for my major (well, actually added to the requirements during my hiatus... rage for another time) that is notoriously hellacious: Political Science 200. Its basically a super time intensive writing class (like a 10+ hour paper due each week), with some math/statistics thrown in for fun. It was craziness. But I worked my butt off and got an A. I was super happy and thought life couldn't get any better, then I recieved an email from the professor of the class offering me a position as a TA for next semester! I was ecstatic, this job would be perfect! I was so worried about how i'd find a job next semester to work around my two stupid classes that are on opposite days and times. This TA job would line up with my class schedule perfectly, allow me to teach a lab and get teaching experience, as well as get to know a professor in order to acquire those all too important letters of recommendation. On the last day of finals I had an hour long interview with the professor and formally accepted the job. A few days before Christmas he emailed me with the schedule for TA meetings and I realized my family Christmas vacation would conflict with the first meeting. I emailed him back within 15 minutes of him sending this notice. I told him about my family vacation and asked if it would be possible for me to miss this meeting, or if I would need to miss the trip in order to retain this TA position. His response was lovely: he fired me. He had hired too many TAs so my inquiry gave him the perfect excuse to solve his own problem. He gave me no choice, no option to forgo the vacation and keep this job I so badly wanted. He simply gave my lab to another TA and proceeded to cancel my hiring process (which I drove my social security card down from SLC at last minute - an over two hour trip for, upon his insistence). 

Okay, one jerk professor shouldn't sour a person on their whole academic experience. But I think this is rather representative of my entire BYU experience: too many students for professors to care about an individual and enough pride and self righteousness to put the pharisees to shame... But whatever, he can continue being a 5'4" social science professor making comparatively less money than professors at other secular universities, I'll be tanning on the beaches of Belize. Take that.

Enough anger... Some Happy things:

1) We drove up the day after Christmas and were able to spend a night at Dan's parent's house and see Ann (Dan's grandmother) and Saki (Dan's brother Chris' platonic Japanese friend). When taking a group photo with a funny face, I opted for the "shy Asian tourist look," which, in retrospect, was very culturally intensive.

2) Not to brag, well actually totally to brag, I got 4.0 this semester. Take that evil BYU.

3) We are leaving to paradise, out of the SLC smog and cold. HUZZAH!

Thank You for making it to the end of this rant. I hope that even if you choose to like BYU we can still be friends. But seriously, stop liking BYU. Now.

TRADITION!

If Christmas means one thing to us Bensons its tradition. I love it, I know every year I can count on the same awesomeness that I have been experiencing for 23 years now. Dan... he's overwhelmed by it. "We're watching ANOTHER version of A Christmas Carol? AGAIN?" Why yes, its TRADITION.

1) Christmas Caramel Corn Wreath making. 

A 20 year strong Benson family tradition. It is quite the event, everyone has their task (some jobs are more dangerous than others). This year we turned out 30 wreaths, and I only ate 5 of them.

2) Candy House Making

the "winning" house
Anna and Grandpa took this way too seriously. They may have won the "Best House Award" determined by secret ballot on Christmas Day, but it had about the same legitimacy as an Egyptian Parliamentary election. Serious ballot box stuffing going on.

3)A Chili Christmas Eve Dinner

Which has come to include other soup varieties upon the discovery that no one actually likes Chili.

4) Opening Presents, One at a Time, Oldest to Youngest

No Dan, no opening them on Christmas Eve! And not out of turn either!

5) Family Christmas Dinner. On the fancy China.

This year we did mix things up a bit, we had Christmas Steak - Dan was the grill master. And there was the cool addition of Christmas Crowns that came out the Christmas crackers that Uncle Tom smuggled over with him from the UK. 

And because no gathering of Benson brothers is complete without explosives, there was Christmas Potato launching, courtesy of the Brent Benson hand built potato guns. 

Which of course was followed a good Christmas hair singe.  But it's okay because...

It's Tradition! 

Coping Mechanism of Choice, Finals Week Style

I have a bit of a problem. Dare I say, an addiction. It began innocently many years ago, just an occasional hit here or there. But the stress of college and the all nighters got to me. It became a daily occurrence. 

the face of addiction isn't pretty.

My name is Lauren, and I am addicted to Diet Coke.

I recently realized that it had escalated out of control when I found myself getting shakey because I'd ONLY had two cans that day. Yes, I was drinking at least 4+ cans each day. I mean, you have to have your "eye opener" at 5 am, then your breakfast coke.... You know. So I quit. Cold turkey. With none at the house and the unavailability of anything that makes life worth living at BYU, I was not faced with temptation. Sure the headaches and tremors were annoying, but I got through it.

But then finals comes along... You find yourself staying up all night, memorizing regression formulas and calculating standard deviations and memorizing useless terms and then...and then you snap.
I NEED A COKE.
Enter the friendly neighborhood 7-11, a mere five minute walk from my residence. 

What a wonderful place. I discovered that if you mix Diet Coke with a bit of sugar-free limeade it is transformed from a delightful calorie free treat into THE NECTAR OF THE GODS!!! I also discovered that if you bring back your same big gulp cup, a refill is a mere 89 cents. 89 cents for a liter of liquid gold!!!

So basically, you can now find me everyday refilling my super big gulp and forking over 89 cents to my new friend Randy at 7-11. Facing addiction Head On? Mass Fail. But it could totally be worse. I could be into hard drugs. And I hear that heroin sets you back way more than 89 cents. I'll have to check it out. Pretty sure a lot of my friends at 7-11 would know. It is the west side after all. 

Redacted Christmas Threats

You may remember a certain diatribe I wrote last year about a certain dilapidated wal-mart artificial tree that I had carted around and put up for 5 years. You may remember that I emphatically stated that this TREE WOULD GO ON NO MORE. Well, I lied. When we were moving from Monterey, Dan went to heft the wal-mart tree into the trash and I totally had a "Solomon slicing the baby in half moment." No, wait! Don't kill it! It is my tree! But if I can't have it, at least give it unto the Salvation Army. Well, I doubt the Salvation Army would have accepted it, so, welcome GHETTO TREE YEAR 6. Ha.

Also helping us get in the holiday spirit: Mandatory Fun! This year  Dan's Army Christmas Party (which we are required to attend, they take roll) was held at Tucanos. Tucanos being a Brazilian Grill where the waiters walk around with giant platters of all types of undercooked meat that they shave off onto your plate. Basically, my worst nightmare. It was just as all Army functions are: uncomfortable and not fun. I did however enjoy when I won the raffle and got, wait for it, A GIFT CARD TO TUCANOS. I can now experience the horror all over again :)

in order to truly get jazzed about the happiest time of the year, i've created 

LO'S CHRISTMAS BUCKET LIST:

Go to Temple Square 

(Yes it is only a 4 minute walk from our front door, but its like really really cold outside, so we've avoided it).

Bake a million treats 

(literally, a million. give a couple to neighbors)

{this is totally unrelated, i just enjoy a good inappropriate elf on the shelf}

Do a good deed

(sub for santa, or angel tree, or volunteer or something)

Watch Christmas Movies

(elf, its a wonderful life, and scrooged being my favorites)

I will get started on this list. Right after I try to survive finals.

( I'm pretending that I took pictures and documented my trip to STG and thanksgiving. They happened, they were lovely, but I sucked at picture taking). 

Just a Warning

If you choose to read only the ingredient list and neglect to read the entire recipe, your microwave could end up like this:

Over the weekend, Danielle and Haylee came over to my house for "CRAFT DAY." Well, I was a bit rushed that morning and just a bit before they were due to arrive I realized I didn't have any treats made. NO TREATS?!? What kind of gathering has NO TREATS?!? So, I looked around my kitchen and accessed the situation. I pretty much had no ingredients. Then it came to me, CARAMEL CORN. Found a quick and easy microwave version and set about making it. Then I discovered I had no brown sugar. No problem, run (literally, dan had the car) down to the corner market/drug front. I headed outside to discover it was rain/snowing. Plan B. Make brown sugar from white sugar and molasses. Totally worked. Throw everything into microwave for a couple minutes. Open microwave. Caramel volcano has exploded. DO NOT put the baking soda into the mix till after its microwaved. It will create a science fair project like explosion. Just FYI. Needless to say, it was a treatless event. 

Luckily, my co-crafters have more attention to detail then myself, and due to their diligence and instruction following, I think our Christmas countdown blocks turned out pretty well. 

In other news, Dan is gone back east for a week for Army training stuff. 

Meaning Lauren is home alone.

Meaning: 

A) She is sleeping with all the lights in the house on.

B) She is eating Breakfast for Supper. Every. Single. Night. Soooo gooood 

(I still don't understand dan's aversion)

C) She is using the countdown blocks to number the days till Friday, 

when she goes home to St. George (only 2 left!!!).

See Steve. Be inspired by STEVE.

I had an interesting shuttle ride down this past weekend. A young man that was being transferred from a drug treatment facility up north to one in St. George ended up riding by me. I was surprised when he asked me about a book I was reading, a rather unknown Egyptian novel, and that he knew a lot about it. He was very articulate and we talked about the book book he was reading, Rough Stone Rolling (one of my all time favorites), and had some very interesting theological discussions. Kinda crazy. Then my mom picks me up and sends me into K-Mart where I’m promptly asked by a woman lying on the ground on aisle 14 to help her up. She was looking at a price on the bottom shelf and now cant get back up. I looked around for someone to help me, but as is common for K-mart, it looked like the rapture had taken place and were the lone people left behind. I pretty much threw out my back hoisting this older, heavier woman up. But I got her up and she was able to continue her K-mart shopping. Weird day. It seems like when one weird thing happens, it dominoes into a day of bizzareness… ANYWAY

Snow Canyon Half Marathon: BRRRRRRR. That’s about all I can say. You should NOT wear short shorts to a race that begins in snow. It will in fact make you slower, not faster. Running tights are they way to go, sure they’re not really flattering on anyone (except those rare exceptions * cough * anna *cough* *cough*)… So yeah, between turning into a Popsicle and vomiting up diet coke and a granola bar (the breakfast of Olympians), not a good first few miles. 

When I got down to the last mile and saw someone on the sidelines wearing camo pants, I was like “Hey, someone has camo pants like my dad! What are the odds? (I thought my Dad was at work).” When I got closer I saw it was my Dad! I tried to run as fast as humanly possible for someone of my abilities in order to impress him and make up for my years of athletic failure in front of him (soccer, cross country, three legged races). Ha. The whole family came out and cheered us on. It was quite nice. 

After the race Anna and I went back to mile 8 where she had ditched her fleece jacket. There was this lady hobbling along wearing a bib number, looking like she was going to cry (She was at mile 8 and well over two hours, and its freezing and windy!). Anna offered to drive her to the finish line, and she gladly accepted. I need to start having people drive me to the finish line; I think it would improve my times and make racing more fun. Just an idea.

There are two criteria in the book of Lauren as to what makes a good race: 

Criterion One: Cool Shirts (You know, so you can wear it around the gym and then people are like “Hey did you run that race?” And then you’re like “Hey, yeah, I totally did!”).

 Criterion Two: Good Post Race Treats (Because really the only thing that motivates me to exercise is FOOD. I wish I was joking. I spent all 13 miles thinking of cookies).

Snow Canyon 1/2= Hideous Shirts and Frozen Yogurt at the finish of 40 degree run? Double Fail. But Anna and I both beat our previous ½ Marathon Times, so its cool.

All race pictures are courtesy of Kiersty. She, Eli, and her hedgehog came down. They are always fun to play with and Eli adds nearly a foot to the median height in our household when present.

After the race, Anna and I accompanied my Mom to SUPER SATURDAY where we learned the invaluable skills associated with creating cake pops. We decided we needed to try our hand at this first world ridiculosity. So we did.

I know I’ve mentioned Steve before. He is a spin teacher in St. George with a cult following. And I am part of the cult. It is particularly hilarious because he magically appears at every race that Anna and I joke about him at. We laughed that he probably ran the STG Marathon and then ran back to help others. Low and behold, the newspaper Marathon special comes out. Front page picture: Sexy Spin Man Steve helping an injured runner across the finish line, while still managing to finish in 3:08. Today I’m looking through the Snow Canyon ½ Marathon official pictures, there is Steve. In the very front of the start line. I have no doubt he completed some meritorious act here as well and will use it to inspire his next spin class. 
He is not a mere mortal.

 HE IS STEVE.

scary things

My main activity this week was hunting down my bishop. The great and abominable institution known as THE BYU didn’t accept my ecclesiastical endorsement, apparently I had the wrong form. I couldn’t register for classes or apply for graduation, which I urgently needed to do. I already had the interviews with both my bishop and stake president (not easily accomplished); I just needed a signature on the right form. I can’t even tell you how tempted I was to forge it. Our bishop is like an elusive white wolf. I called his home, his cell, left multiple messages. Emailed him. Called the 1^st counselor. Called the 2^nd counselor. Called the executive secretary. Dan left threatening messages. I’m not joking. Living in a ghetto downtown branch is no joke! On Sunday we showed up to Stake Conference, Dan monitoring one door, me monitoring the other. Somehow, he got past us. Luckily I spotted him in the pews after the service had started. I sat directly behind him and didn’t take my eyes off his bald head. Finally, after a lovely two hour wait, the meeting ended and I forced a pen into his hand. He offered no reason whatsoever for ignoring me. Whatever. I have my signature. 

Carving pumpkins is a Mealy-Streeter tradition that had to be carried on. Mark and Leana had us up to their place and though Dan refused to get his hands covered in guts (what kinda boy is he?), we still produced a team skeleton pumpkin.

{halloween 2008. don't judge.}
Having no Halloween functions to attend (our ghetto ward doesn’t trunk or treat), we planned to lay low and watch some Netflix. Then I got a text from Danielle that they were having a little get together at Haylee's house. So Dan and I threw together a last minute costume, quite reminiscent of our first married Halloween, and headed down to Provo.

 We were muertos, you know, the day of the dead skeletons that Dan and I have quiet an affinity for? Next year its back to the hard-core sewing  themed costumes. 

(Bonni, you’re going to be in SLC and throw a party right?)

Despite it being Halloween and all, the scariest thing to happen this week was SNOW. Me and my frostbitten hands aren't ready for this. Luckily, I get to go home this weekend and warm myself.

{best thing to happen to my life. i wish it came with a cat}
Until then, if you need to find me, I will be curled in a ball in front of my heat lamp.