Weddings
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Posted on June 17, 2010
My First Year in Wyoming
A year of laughs…
Some days we laugh. For no reason at all. Sometimes we may laugh because someone told a joke, or because we saw a funny movie. But other times, we laugh because we just enjoy being with one another.
The past year has cemented the idea that Tristan and I make a kick ass team. When one is weak, the other is a support. When one is sad, the other makes silly faces. Moving across the country with the idea and hopes that this would work out was truly risky. I haven’t looked back.
A year of tears…
To say that the transition from a urban area of 5 million+ to a small city of 27,000 was an easy one would be a complete and utter lie. I never really appreciated the comfort of convenience. In Pennsylvania, I had choices upon choices of any products my mind could dream up. (Don’t even get me started on produce…or in Wyoming’s case, lack of.) Not only did I have a Target, I had a choice of Targets. (Yes, two within 5 miles of each other.) It quite different to drive 50 miles if I want to shop anywhere other than Walmart.
Wyoming is known for having lots of wide open spaces. There’s a reason for that. Our first snowfall was in October and our last snow was late May (keep your fingers crossed). We’ve had wind, sub-zero temps, ice, and loads of unplowed streets. If it’s not 3rd Street or Grand Avenue (the two main streets in town), it’s not plowed. I learned quickly why so many people drive large vehicles. My car got stuck many times because of the snow, the ice and the extremely deep gutters.
A year of adventure…
Together, we traveled 2,395 miles from Exton, PA to Laramie, WY. We saw Niagara Falls, stopped in Toronto, and drove through the UP (Upper Pennisula of Michigan…our favorite!). We ate cheese curds in Wisconsin, rode the rides at Mall of America, and had our pictures taken with the presidents at Mount Rushmore.
In the last year, Tristan and I have gone camping in 40 mph winds (he woke up every half an hour by the wind pounding against the tent; I slept like a log and woke up to enjoy the sunrise.) We went snowboarding almost every weekend this winter (I’m actually getting good!) For our most recent adventure, we bought a rice cooker on impulse and have eated rice every day for the last week. Love it!
A year of fears…
Like the time Tristan was away for two weeks and I saw a spider walk across the floor and underneath the dresser. I slept with the light on for the next couple of days.
But most importantly, a year of joy…
Right before Tristan proposed, I had moment of extreme anticipation. Even though we had talked about getting married several times and I knew that he had the ring, my breath lightened and my heart quickened. My mind raced with thoughts of “This is actually it. This is THE moment. He’s going to propose!”
Tristan, thank you for a year of laughs and joy. Here’s hoping for 50 more! 
Photo by our wonderful engagement photographer: Mandy Brown of Mandalay Images.
Posted on June 2, 2010
My car beat 200,000! For some of you, this might not be a big deal…for others, this might mean it’s time to get a new car. For me, this means that my car is built to last. I have a love affair with my car. It was with me in Philadelphia when I went to Temple University. It drove with me into the Kensington neighborhood of North Philly, when I worked with inner city teens and taught them media literacy. (My car suffered a paint ball attack from that.) Whenever I drove to an interview and arrived an hour early because I hated the idea of being a minute late, my car sat with me at a local supermarket. And waited.
My car and I have been in the hustle and bustle of New York City and stranded on the interstate for 8 hours (in the smack dab middle of the night). We’ve driven cross country three times. She was there when I met the man I thought I was going to marry…and when I packed up my whole entire life to move to Wyoming and start a life with this man, she was there.
My car is my sanctuary. A zen garden of sorts. No matter what is going on outside, when I sit in my car, I am calm and happy. So, happy mileage day to my 1998 Toyota Camry, who I endearingly call Cam.
And here are some of our travels…
Posted on June 1, 2010
I want to make a list of goals for June. It has to be a list of things I’ll actually accomplish, however small. The idea is that feeling accomplished and being able to check things off the list will motivate me to accomplish other, more difficult tasks. The only issue I run across when coming up with a to do list is that June is already insanely busy. Every weekend is filled to the brim with things to do. Every weeknight is filled with things that didn’t get done over the weekend (you know, all the fun stuff like doing laundry, paying bills, etc).
And where does “Enjoy Being Engaged” fit into that list? It’s something I value highly, and I often feel engaged couples miss out. This is the time to enjoy being with each other and being in love. It’s time for adventure, mystique, and pure joy.
So, maybe my list for June should be about things that I want to do…rather than things that have to be done.
Goals for June:
- Visit a new town in Wyoming.
- Go for a hike.
- Spend an evening after work in the park.
- Bike to work.
I like that list. Short, simple, and easy to accomplish. Happy June! (Winter is finally over in Wyoming!!!!)
Posted on May 24, 2010
It’s May 24, 2010. We’re a mere 7 days away from June. The rest of the country has spring. They have warm weather, budding leaves, rainbows and flowers. But here, in Wyoming, we have wind, rain, hail, and snow.
I can’t believe I actually chose to live here….
Posted on May 21, 2010
Whenever I get up early to fly on a plane, I always reward myself with some kind of guilty pleasure, usually an Egg McMuffin from McDonald’s. It’s one of those things that I never eat in real life, but in the comfort of the airport, nothing else exists. No calories, no fat. And nobody else is there to tell me otherwise. After dropping Tristan off at the airport, I knew just what I would do. It didn’t seem fair that I got up before 5 a.m., I drove to the airport, I said the tearful goodbyes, but I wouldn’t get my guilty pleasure at the airport. So, I opted for something better:
Pulling into the parking lot, I had a second thought. Wedged in between a budget motel, a truck stop, and a straggly field, it didn’t quite look like a place where nice girls go. Let alone nice girls by themselves. But I thought of the idea of IHOP, teeming with families out for a Saturday morning breakfast, and I imagined everyone looking at me. What if they put me at a table in between? It’s one thing to sit at a booth and stare at the window the whole time…but it’s a completely different story to be alone, surrounded by strangers. I realized at that moment that it’s been a while since I’ve been alone. Like, really alone.
I moved to Wyoming to be with the man that I love. I moved because I wanted to see if we would work in everyday life. We started our courtship long distance, and while spending summers together or taking vacations to visit one another is nice, it wasn’t a real indication of how we would work in the daily grind. Lucky for us, I have the ring to prove it!
Back to the story: I walked up the ramp and walked through the door, which was being held by a nice older gentleman with a long, straggly beard. I politely thanked him and immediately whisked myself away to the ladies’ room, where I proceeded to wash my hands three times. I wanted to wash away the memory (and any diseases) of that ugly, no good, two timin’, heck of a waste, blue lunch cooler.
I sat in a booth by the window. I ordered the “All-Star Special”, complete with waffle, eggs, sausage, grits and toast. My name is Lauren, and I’m addicted to variety. Even though I know that ordering the “one of everything” special is going to be wayyy too much food and that 100% of the time, I ended up feeling stuffed to my gord, I just can’t help myself. I love it all. And I have to say, my absolute favorite from this delectable meal was…drum roll, please…….the grits! Yum!
I returned on my merry way and was instantly greeted by the thickest fog I have ever seen in my life. I took the road slowly and calmly. and eventually, I found my way home. Good. Ol. Home.
Posted on May 19, 2010
In the early morning, Denver had a thick cover of fog. I want to know when is the last time Denver had an overcast day, let alone a thick blanket of fog. 1745?…..BC? So, I rumbled along, through the thick of the fog, to grandmother’s house I went (actually, my grandmother lives about 1700 miles away….what a long drive that is! Oh my!) I shuffled along, past the factories and the castles. Don’t believe me?
Out in the distance, I saw it coming. A boxy object bouncing along, getting pushed and pulled by the traffic. In slow motion, I watched as it was pounced by the large, heavy tires of a semi truck. It bounce and bounced and bounced and…..oh crap. THUMP! My car shook as it ran over the box. I waited patiently to feel the release and watch in the rear view mirror as the blue lunch cooler rolled into the traffic behind me. That never came. Instead, I was greeted by the subtle scraping sound of something being drug by my car.
Taking the next exit, I pulled into an empty parking lot. Looking under the car, I saw the cooler, smuggled diagonally by the pipes of my car. Man, that sucker was stuck. And by stuck, I mean stuuuuuuuuuuuuck. I pushed, I pulled, I hit, clawed, punched, kicked, and jury rigged the cooler. It didn’t budge. Instead, it sat and stared at me, mocking my gallant, but fruitless efforts.
And then, genius struck. I realized that the cooler was stuck because it had the weight of the car keeping it wedged. I scratched my chin. “Hmm,” I said to myself. “If only I kept a hydraulic lift in my back pocket.” I looked around and found a curb with a wheel chair ramp. Slowly, I drove my right tire up onto the sidewalk. Getting down on my hands and knees I (finally) successfully pulled the cooler free. Not wanting to leave trash in the parking lot that had saved me from a lifetime of scraping noises, I took the cooler with me.
But I couldn’t think. Not with that staring at me. I gave it my best glare, letting it know that it was not a guest in my car. This was strictly business.
So, the trashcan by Pier 1 got a brand new (to them) blue lunch cooler. I turned around to get back in my car….and realized how amazing the light was this early in the morning. Don’t believe me?
I pulled out the parking lot, and on a last second whim, I pulled down a country road. This is what I saw:
To Be Continued…
(In a staunch, NPR voice) The third and final part of our series will be blogged tomorrow. This is Elle Kay Studios; I’m Lauren Kuznick. Good night.
Posted on May 17, 2010
I woke up early in the morning to drive him to the airport. 4:45 a.m. to be exact. Bright eyed and bushy tailed, we drove on the near empty highway. I chit chatted about this and that–nothing important, I’m sure. Tristan sat quietly, patiently listening to me talk. He’s good at that. When I ramble (and boy, do I ramble), he sits and listens to every word that I say. Even if the words are just the states I’m trying to name (I always forget a different one each time).
As we pulled up to the airport, I started to feel sentimental. Who would make me laugh for the next two weeks? Who would give me hugs when I’m sad, frustrated, or stressed out? Tristan is an integral part of my life (duh, that’s why we’re getting married), and I always miss the little things when we’re apart. I miss our inside jokes and our funny faces. I miss cooking dinner together or snuggling while we watch a movie.
I pulled into an open space and got out of the car. Giving Tristan a big hug and tons of smooches, I wished him a good trip. He’s always wanted to go to Japan, so as a good future-wife, I support him and wish him well in anything he wants to do. Even though I knew I would miss like a penguin misses ice, I smiled and waved as he walked away. (On a side note, my one rule in life is to never watch someone leave or to watch someone as I leave. It’s a rule I adopted when I first went to college. I found it was the best way to avoid home sickness.)
I pumped up the volume to some good, toe tappin’, heel kickin’, thumb drummin’ country music. I enjoyed the thrill of the open road on an early Saturday morning. And this is where my adventure begins.
To Be Continued….
(Yup, I just went there! Check back tomorrow for Part 2 of “My Crazy Daisy Amazy Adventure”!)
Posted on May 14, 2010
My hair is getting so long, I don’t know what to do with it. If I leave it down, it flies softly but vigorously through the Wyoming wind. If I put it in a pony tail, it spreads out and mingles like a gallery opening. My hair is far too heavy for a bun. By my 10 o’clock snack time (yes, I have snack time; a full tummy is a happy tummy), my bun — once perky and neatly perched on the top of my head — slides down to the nape of my neck, getting stuck on my shoulder when i turn my head. I’ve tried to pull off a ballerina bun. Plus: it stays in one place all day. Minus: I look like an old school marm (and a mean one at that).
The past few days I’ve been wearing a braid. There are a few things I like about this. #1 It keeps my hair relatively unknotty. With a braid my daily ritual of fighting the knots in my hair has turned from 40+ minutes to 10, tops. #2 I look like a farm girl. And farm girls know how to rock. #3 It’s easy to do. #4 Did I mention that my hair isn’t so knotty? Seriously, with a pony tail, I end up the day with a large rat’s nest. When I brush out my hair, I always wonder what I’ll find. A bird, a lollipop, or a piano?
The things that I absolutely, positively find horribly negative about wearing a braid: #1 I’m incapable of counting into thirds. I always have one strand that is definitely larger than the other two…combined. #2 Strands of hair become loose very easily. And like loose strings on my clothing, I pick…and pick. I subconsciously pick at the loose hairs on the left side of my braid. I’m sure it looks like my braid tried to implode a building but blew up the sidewalk instead. #3 A combination of many factors, it can get messy…real quick.
I’ve had serious thoughts about cutting my hair and going back to its original length (chin length). But every time I’ve decided, “Ok, this is it!” a thought creeps back into my head about how I want to have long hair for my wedding. I grew it out as a final attempt at youth, figuring I’d get it out of my system then have a “mom cut” for the next 50 years. But as soon as we got engaged, my reasons changed. Just like the glasses conundrum, I am hard pressed to find a beautiful bride in the magazines with short, funky hair.
So, the battle continues…next weeks mission: french braid!
Posted on May 12, 2010
Wyoming in May:
Posted on April 28, 2010