First World Problems

I've been a little unhappy lately for the following reasons:

- The general post Christmas, post-vacation blues...

- Everyday this semester I spend 3-6 hours (depending upon if I drive or ride UTA) commuting to my least favorite place on planet earth (BYU)

- My favorite spin teacher at the U graduated, thus this semester I am lacking the spin endorphins that mellow me and make me a nicer human.

- My classes are none too delightful, but I need them all to graduate (dropping is not an option). My creative writing class gives me serious anxiety- I do not enjoy reading things I wrote aloud and then letting my peers have a free for all on what I did wrong....

- I gained some weight over the holidays, and any and all attempts to eat healthy keep being thwarted by need to soothe above mentioned problems with cookies/peanut butter/donuts/handfuls of white chocolate chips.

(this is a first world problem)

When I read over my list, the first thing that comes to mind is "FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS!" Seriously, I need to chill out, all my problems are pretty trivial. And I have so many things to be happy about:

1) Dan got a Job

He wasn't even really looking for one. It just sort of fell in his lap. He had training this weekend and got to be shot with a Tazer Gun (you know, the crazy kind with the prongs that go in your skin!). He said it was horrible, but I know that secretly he feels pretty bad-a about it.

2) I got to read books, for fun!

Over Christmas break I had time to read books that I wanted to read, without feeling guilty for neglecting school books. Two I would recommend (Spontaneous Happiness and Catherine the Great), one I would not (god is not great.)

3)  Anna and Katty came for an MLK day visit. There was Indian food cooking, shopping, and red iguana eating. Sisters make the best kind of friends. Especially since they HAVE to be my friends.

On second thought, perhaps I should be wanting more problems, bigger problems so that I can exploit them for use in my creative writing class. Nothing says good essay like tragedy. Am I right?

The Things I will do to get to STG: Greyhound Bus Edition

Dan and I got back to SLC at about 1 am Thursday night. I could not sleep, I just keep thinking about my poor Dad who was in the hospital in St. George. I went to my one class on Friday and decided I really just needed to go home. I realized that my presence would in no way heal him (as awesome and magical as I am), but I just wanted to be there. Dan had drill all weekend and needed the car, so I called the shuttle. Turns out all the shuttles were booked for the weekend! In a moment of desperation, there came the greyhound bus idea. I started to get a bit nervous when I arrived at the Greyhound Station/Methadone Clinic. Thankfully, the station turned out to be way sketchier than the actual bus ride itself. The six hour journey was fairly entertaining: There was an older Korean gentlemen that spoke no English, and got off the bus at every single stop asking "This Los Angeles?" Dude, if you think that Parowan, UT is Los Angeles, you're in for quiet a surprise.  Admittedly the crowd on the bus was rough, and required frequent smoking breaks, but I got a whole row to myself and didn’t really interact much with anyone… I made it STG at about 1am, Anna picked me up, and I got to spend a good 36 hours in my favorite place on Earth. My dad was released home by the time I made it and is doing better - which was good to see. Another Bonus: I got to ride up back up north with Kiersten and “help” her move into her new apartment at UVU. By "help" I mean dangerously distract her while driving in the name of getting a photobooth picture. Ha. Overall, the trip was worth it, but I won’t be getting a Greyhound frequent rider card anytime soon…

Don't Stop BELIZE-ing!

For Christmas, my parents gave the family a trip to Belize! It was really fun and gave way to endless jokes playing on the word “Belize.” Example: You better Belize I took a grip of pictures!

 

There was riding a fun little “hopper” plane from Belize City into Danguira.

 There was Zip lining and tubing through caves.

 There was the epic “Mayflower Hike.” 

Hello straight up vertical climb through tons of mud. Despite the rigorous nature, this day was almost everyone’s favorite as the hike ended a beautiful waterfall that was perfect for jumping off of.  

There was hiking through a jaguar preserve. 

I had my sights set on finding not only a jaguar, but a rare all black jaguar!!! That is  until our guide, a lifelong resident of the area, admitted he had seen ONE JAGUAR in HIS ENTIRE LIFE. Yeah, didn’t see one. It wasn't a total loss, we borrowed (stole) oranges from from a nearby orchard and there was yet another swimmable waterfall area. 

There was floating down Monkey river 

We saw the interesting village of Monkey river and went hiking in the jungle in search of Howler Monkeys, which unlike the jaguars, were found!

 After our adventures, a daily favorite activity was using the single speed bikes from the resort to pedal into the nearby village of Hopkins. The residents were all of African descent and super friendly. There we stocked up on the official beverage of the trip, Coke Light, and the official snack of the trip, Cadbury Half and Half Bars.

 The last day was the ill-fated scuba diving day. 

We had intended to dive more, but the weather was not cooperating. In the end, it would have been better had we never dived at all… The seas were really rough – all of us were pretty sea sick by the time we got out there. Between the rough water, strong current, and too advanced nature of the first dive – none of us enjoyed it much. The second dive was a bit better, Dan certainly enjoyed shooting a lionfish with a spear gun. But our dive guides totally didn’t pay attention to us and Katheryn ran completely out of air! I about had a nervous breakdown that she was going to drown... But she made it up. The worst part came when we stopped on a little island for lunch. There my father had the misfortune of stepping on a plank on the dock that gave way. He got hurt quite badly and ended up with a massive hematoma. So my parent’s last night in Belize was spent in the ER of a sketchy hospital in Dangiura. They weren’t able to perform the surgery he needed there, so they bandaged him up and we headed for home. Luckily my dad is a tough cookie and made it through 3 flights in excruciating pain (though him being in a wheel chair acted as a “fast pass” getting us to the front of all customs lines). He got to St. George and was able to be treated and is at home recovering.

With the exception of the ill-fated dive day and my poor dad’s accident, overall we had an amazing time together. 

One might even say, it was UNBELIZABLE! Thank You Mom and Dad!

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).