Oh, hello!

Oh, hello again! Here, in no particular order are some things that I've been thinking about...

1. Are girls crazy? If you are a boy reading my blog, then you are probably nodding along, with an emphatic yes.

On Saturday night I experienced true girl craziness at it's finest. At a friend's birthday party, I saw an acquaintance and his girlfriend sitting at the bar. I did not immediately go and say hello, because he is not someone I know well, and quite frankly, I needed to get my Bacardi on first. As soon as I got my drink, I went to say hi. I experienced what can only be described as DAGGER EYES coming from the boy's girlfriend (who I had never met before). I extended my hand to her, she shook it with a violent squeeze, and a furious wrath. Ouch. (Emotionally and physically).

About an hour later, while said girlfriend was in the bathroom, boyfriend came up to me and said, "My girlfriend doesn't like you, because she thinks we hooked up." There are two things troubling about that statement. The first: Everyone has a sexual past. Everyone. Do you know how many boys I've hooked up with in the past that now have significant others!?! I'm sure every (single) person reading this could say the same thing. I could have a small army of girlfriends attacking me, if this is a shared mentality.

Second--and, more importantly...I had never hooked up with this guy- not even once. Not ever. I asked boyfriend if he had told his girlfriend that we never hooked up. He said that he did, but she didn't believe him. When girlfriend came out of the bathroom, her eyes narrowed, as she stared at me with pure hatred. My goodness. What could I have done to deserve that?


2. While recently shopping at Bloomingdale's, I was lingering over a necklace. I loved it, and wanted to buy it. But, if purchased, I probably wouldn't be eating for about a week. On the other hand, I'd have a really pretty necklace. This was a tough one. While eyeing the jewelry case, someone came over to assist me. The woman asked me if the necklace was a sweet sixteen gift. I laughed and said, "Oh no. This is for me." Then she said, "I know it is, dear!"

This is when I realized that the Bloomingdale's associate thought that I was a sixteen year old girl. This is not the first time this has happened, in fact it's not even the second. Most recently before this, I was carded at the Hangover Two. The boy who worked behind the counter at the movie theatre (who couldn't have been older than twenty) didn't believe that I was over seventeen years old, thus allowed to see a Rated R movie. All I can say is this: When I'm forty, I can only hope that people think I'm twenty-five.

3. On Wednesday of this week, I visited Medieval Times with the day camp that I'm working at. It made me think about the people who work here. I thought about them "practicing" their choreographed fight scenes, and their medieval accents. When these people get up each morning for work, they know their day consists of men in tights, elaborate costumes, and falling off horses for large groups of children. Who are these people? And, how on earth did they get this job?

4. And lastly, on my walk home from a glorious Sunday spent with my Meelzy, a small black man tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around, and the tiny man said to me, "You have a better tan than Rihanna." I'm pretty sure that was a compliment. But, I'm also pretty sure that Rihanna has a better tan than I do. Just saying.

The End

It was September of 1994. My first day of fifth grade at Harrison Elementary School, in Livingston, New Jersey. I excitedly packed my backpack, grabbed my lunch, and took our annual Fisher family first day of school photo. (My older brother was going into the ninth grade, my younger sister was beginning first grade). I kissed my mom goodbye, and ran ahead of her and my sister, all the way to school. I was about to become the oldest and the coolest in school--finally a fifth grader. I loved the idea of ruling the school. I was a ten year old girl, hardly the ruler of anything, but to me being a fifth grader kind of meant everything. Later that night, after telling my mom what a great day I had, I burst into tears. Though, it was only the first day of school (179 days away from the last), I cried because I didn't want fifth grade to ever end. Ahhh yes, and here I am seventeen years later...

If ever a situation described me more, it is this. I cried about not wanting something to end a year before it did. People don't really change. (Or, atleast, I haven't). I am still the same 5th grade girl at heart. And, though I have survived all of life's "endings" and successfully transitioned into new beginnings, I still wish something so good didn't have to come to an end...

This past week was my last week as a Center for Ants employee after five years. Yes, I cried like it was the last day of camp, in front of all the children and their parents. (I am soooo professional). As I come to terms with a very significant chapter of my life coming to an end, it is comforting to know that I get to adjust to this transition slowly...over my three month summer vacation...

The Big Moments

It's funny how the big moments in life are never quite the way that you imagined them to be. In the spring of 2001, I was a junior in highschool. I did not make the Varsity lacrosse team, and learned that I would be playing on the JV team. All of my friends my age, had moved up to Varsity. I was disappointed at first, but would soon learn what a joyous blessing in disguise this turned out to be. While the varsity team ran four miles a day, the JV team took team strolls to Baskin Robbins. And, most importantly of all, I met my new found sophomore lacrosse teammates. Teammates who would grow up to become my real life friends.

On Sunday, I attended one of those sophomore lax girlay's bridal shower. (No longer a highschool sophomore, but a twenty-six year old woman; Lindsay O, or soon to be Lindsay L). While catching up at our ladies lunch, the topic of losing our virginites came up. I'm not quite sure why or how. Maybe it was the fact that we all had done it for the first time with people we went to high school with, and consequently many of us had even slept with the same people. (Ahh yes, I do love you, Livingston High School). Either way, it made for some entertaining conversation.

I won't go into explicit detail on my first time. Mostly because, I am not looking to exploit anyone. (Or am I!?) But, I will say this: when a p first entered my v, I had no idea what to expect, I had only heard stories from my more "experienced" friends. Although, in hindsight--this "experience" is almost laughable. We were teenagers. We were the sexual blind leading the sexual blind. As we laughed about these boys from our past, (whose identities shall remain anonymous), we all knew one thing: these sexual escapades were disasters at best.

It's the big moments in life that never feel quite how you imagined them to be. I am coming up on a big milestone now. It's a strange feeling knowing that you are about to experience one of life's many turning points. But, this is mine. And, I'm not sure how I should feel.

I am leaving my very first job. The only real place that I have ever reported for duty, day after day, week after week, month after month, for the past five years. For many people my age, this step has already occurred. But, in true Lauren Fisher fashion, I am slightly delayed.I have planted my feet, and stood firmly in this place that I have grown to love. In the last five years working as a teacher at The Center for Ants, I have learned a great deal, and it will be very, very difficult for me to say goodbye.

Endings have never been easy for me. Like graduations, and the last episode of Beverly Hills 90210, endings tug at a piece of my soul that I didn't know was there. I am moving on. But, I feel I am moving on before I am ready. That's the hard part. The truth is, I would probably never be "ready," to move on. I know that change is a good thing. (Atleast, that's what I hear). But, regardless, I don't feel ready to leave a work environment where my co-workers have become close friends, and a building has become like a second home.

What is my message here? I'm not sure. I only know that when I first stepped foot into The Center For Ants back in September of 2006, I never would have dreamed of the all the learning, the growth, and the development that would take place. (And, yes...I am talking about my own). It has been a hell of a five years. Center For Ants, you've been a pivotal part of my twenties. And, I'll miss you, a lot.