almost every continent

I haven't been to that many continents. I was born and raised in New York. I've been to a few countries in Europe. That is it. I am not complaining. I am lucky to have traveled at all. My dream is to visit most, if not all, continents before I die and am reincarnated into a beautiful and graceful pegasus, able to soar among the stars and than gallop into the sunset when I land in a peaceful meadow (should there be any left; realistically speaking).

So, maybe this is the reason I am so obsessed with seeing where the people that read my blog live. I check almost every day and I have had someone from six of the seven continents read my blog at some point or another. I'm just missing Antarctica... so you scientists out in the freezing land of Antarctica, I'm calling for YOU! so, the fact remains, I get really excited that I seem to have a few faithful readers in Russia, Germany, and sometimes, France and Australia. I don't have that huge of a following and I don't need one. I just love seeing readers from interesting countries pop up. I would love to hear their stories. Like the person Ukraine, Bulgaria, or Latvia! I want to know what life is like in these countries, why they read my blog and what their daily lives are like. What other blogs do they read? How did they find mine?

I started out writing this blog as a way for me to simply write more. I do a lot of journal-writing but it is so different. That is way more private and based on feelings rather than opinions and observations and experiences. I never in a million years thought that anyone besides my good friends on Facebook (which is where I post my blog) would read, so when I started noticing all the countries that I don't know people in represented in my statistics, it made me wonder: how?

So, if anyone from anywhere other than the US (or in the US, hell, I'm an equal-opportunity-writer) wants to follow my blog and comment to tell me about themselves, I think that would be so amazing! Don't be shy- I'm not! I know that before I lived in New York City, I was completely fascinated by it. People are fascinated by things they've never experienced. I'm fascinated by daily life in Latvia and would love to learn more about it and I promise to share more about life in New York City.

December in Montauk

Yesterday, I was supposed to have lunch with a coworker at delicious Pies and Thighs. I don't go to Pies and Thighs very often for fear that if I did, I would gain 45 pounds and have to have a triple bypass by the time I hit 37. So, when I do go, I am completely looking forward to it, ready for it, and it is oh so worth it. However, I forsake eating a delicious buttery chicken biscuit with honey and hot sauce at Pies and Thighs to take a road trip with some friends, thinking in my head the whole time: this better be worth missing pies and thighs for!

What can I say? I love food. I love eating food in. I love eating food out. I love meeting up with someone who is equally as passionate about food and eating together. Though I am becoming astutely aware that food doesn't need to be a hobby and I don't need to indulge quite as often as I do. So, what was the thought that finally brought me to my decision to cancel the buttery indulgence I had planned and head to Montauk? Well, I can't remember building the best memories ever whilst stuffing my face. It feels wonderful at the time and is a lovely way to pass an afternoon, however, the times that are etched in my memory as times well spent are those times I get out. They're the times that my friends randomly rent a car and we just go, with little plans, if any. And that's what yesterday was. My friend suggested it and I decided yes. I packed my cameras (one that I would soon find out had a dead battery) and hopped in the car with my bagel sandwich for what would become a lovely, relaxing, refreshing, head-clearing day.

In two words, I could sum it up:
WORTH IT.

We headed out in our Zipcar and ate breakfast right away. Opening up the day with sausage, egg, and cheese sandwiches on toasted sesame seed bagels proved to be a very smart decision. Again, I don't eat sausage very much for the same reasons I don't indulge in Pies and Thighs very much, so it was a lovely little treat. We drove the few hour drive through Long Island, all the while listening to excellent music. I loved that we mostly listened to music from my high school and college days... Paperboy, Snoop Doggy Dogg, The Breeders, then, finally: A Tribe Called Quest. Most of the good music was from a mix called Forgotten Fresh- amazing.

The thing that was cool about the music (which I had nothing to do with until the very end, suggesting A Tribe Called Quest) was that we were driving through my island... my stomping ground. I grew up on the west end of the south shore of Long Island. Us Long Island kids drove around listening to music in our teens. It's what we did. And that was the music we listened to, amonst others: Digable Planets, De La Soul, Del the Funky Homosapien, Grand Puba, Wu Tang, Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins...

We drove through small towns that had a charm completely opposite of anything considered charming anywhere in New York City. We stopped for hot chocolate and snacks and then soon parked the car.

We walked a short distance on the beach, taking in the view, talking, taking pictures, and breathing in fresh ocean air. It was way windy and the cold air was hurting my ears- but I managed to get some beachy footage.

All in all, our Montauk day was lovely:

the one you really love

I very recently swore off television. Not 100%. If I am looking forward to watching something, I will watch it, but I'm not going to just sit and watch tv because I've got time on my hands. But I am a person who loves background noise. So, now, when I get home from work, I put on music.

I aways forget about Pandora. Mostly, I make playlists from my iTunes library. Pandora is a little too all over the place for me (that's not at all true; that sounds better than saying the real reason, which is, I am a control freak and I like to know what I am going to hear next.) But the thing is, when you only listen to your own music from your own library (or cd collection for those of you who still listen to cds), you never hear anything new. So, the other day, I was feeling a little wild and daring and I put Pandora on. I put it on the Magnetic Fields station. I love that song, All My Little Words. It's really sad and beautiful. So, I'm listening to the station and it's playing all this music that's good. I'm liking it, but then...

A song comes on that stops me. I loved this song. So, since I heard this song, I've been slightly obsessed with it, which is how I am with songs that I love- I become slightly obsessed. On occasion, I've become full-blown obsessed and listened to a song that I loved over and over and over and never got sick of it. So, this song that I'm just now discovering and that I am slightly obsessing over is called The One You Really Love and it, too, is sad and beautiful. And it reminds me of love at its most painful. Ugh. But it hurts right in that spot, that spot that reminds you that you are alive, you can experience feeling emotions and love and heartache, and although it hurts like a batshit crazy mother fucker, it's better to love and feel and heal than not to experience this experience at its fullest at all.

Here are the lyrics:

I do believe our love's in danger- I might aas well be loving air
You look at me like I'm a stranger- You look at me like I'm not there
I gaze into your eyes of blue but their beauty is not for mee
You're thinking on someone who's gone- You're dreaming of the one you really love
I made you mine, or so it seemed- Though he is dead, he haunts your dreams
I might as well be two feet tall- You never will love me at all...
You're dreaming of the corpse you really love

So short and so poignant. What the fuck?

WATCH AND LISTEN.

dating: for dummies?

Let's be real. Nobody really likes dating. I haven't talked to anyone in years who has said that they thoroughly enjoy dating. I was recently set up by a really good friend of mine. I was ok with it because she is tight with this guy and I had met him and believed him to be a bonafide babe. I pretty much couldn't wait for that date. And after a month or so... I knew in my heart, as awesome (and adorable) as this guy was, we weren't right for each other. So, pretty soon, the dates became not fun, just like all the others.

A first date holds a lot of anxiety and hope, dread and excitement. I have been on all types of bad dates: there was one with a guy I had met sitting down at a bar. When he came to pick me up, I noticed he was about 6" shorter than me... and I'm short! I went on a date with a guy who kept touching my arm and my shoulder and my back and the small of my back, and trying to hold my hand. I pretty much wanted to kick this guy square in the pants. I went out with a guy who left me at the bar ordering a drink and disappeared for about 20 minutes or so. When I found him, he was talking to a girl that was a "family friend." Or how about the guy who thought it was appropriate to bite me? That was fun. I went on a date with someone who made hiking plans with me and never showed up. That was even funner.

I also know that there have been a few dates with people that I knew I never wanted to see again and so I went the distance to make it horrible, usually by getting really drunk, laying all my worst cards out on the table, talking way too much about things that I usually would never talk about, just so the guy would not ask me out again and I wouldn't have to worry about that awkward conversation explaining that "it's just not there between us but I would really like for us to be friends."

And while it may be true that the bad dates far outweigh the good, let's remember that they haven't all been bad dates. I've been on neutral dates (most are neutral, aka, forgettable) and I've been on dates that make me want to shout out of my window how much fun Ia had. Hell, some of those dates even turned into, gasp, relationships, one even turning into a brief engagement.

So, why are the bad dates the most memorable? Well, I have a theory: you know how we like to talk about our problems? Or is that just me? (horror). Well, maybe we remember these bad dates to laugh about them, to tell our friends and compare notes, and to wear as a badge of honor. It's like earning the Purple Heart. (If either one of my grandfathers heard me say that, I might have to get the boot surgically removed from my ass.) But the truth is, a bad date is painful.

We go on dates because we hope. We go on dates because we think something amazing could come out of it. We go on dates because you just never know. It's like working out- you grunt and sweat and push yourself until you think you might collapse, but you do it because you know there will be a pay off in the end.

And usually, I end up learning something about myself, about people, and what I want out of dating and the world of relationships. With every date, I get closer and closer to figuring out what it is I am searching for and why it is that I am so incredibly picky. And I realize more and more that it is worth it to wait for that one quality person with whom you click so well that the dating can stop and the relationship can begin.

my luck will get better soon... if i'm lucky!

Do you ever wonder why you could be flying high and hitting every stroke of luck you possibly can and then, one day, something unlucky will happen and it's just a string of luckless crap from there on out. And luck is luck. You can't do a thing about it. You just have to do your best to ride out the shit storm that has gathered above your life and hope, like all storms, it will pass soon enough without any casualties (casualties, of course being people I may have to murder to keep sane).

Now, I know I'm no cheerleader-type, peppy girl who goes through life with a smile on her face all the time, always assuming everyone is amazing and with every rainstorm comes a rainbow. I can be grumpy. I can be cynical as all hell. I am snarky and quick with a sarcastic comment or retort. However, I feel like I've been giving this looking at life through rose-colored glasses thing a real shot. What gives? Isn't it supposed to be that you think positive thoughts and transmit positive energy to yourself, thus surrounding yourself with positivity? Am I doing something wrong? Is it possible that even when I think I am being completely thankful and graceful and happy that my negativity may be spewing from some unknown orifice? Can your energy trick you? You can think you're happy and trying to be positive and your energy that is coming across to others is coming out and shape-shifting, like, "we're free! let's turn bad!" Does my energy feel like I'm too strict with it so by the time it leaves, it rebels? Jeez. I already have to deal with 130 rebellious 12 and 13-year-olds five days a week. Isn't that enough?

I'll tell you in September, I had quite a few things happen that I saw right away was a lucky gift and I thanked the Universe up and down. And then, from then on, I was in a pretty consistent upswing. Then, a bad luck occurrence, followed by another then another then ... pretty soon, it felt as though someone had stuck a pin in my optimistic attitude balloon and popped that shit hard! Once the bad luck happened, it was on. The Universe against Laura. And guess who's winning?

I am trying to keep a super positive attitude even with what seems to be a bad luck charm I seem to be carrying around and laugh all these little incidents off. I keep telling myself that, like everything else, it'll pass soon enough, but man! It's been weeks of this. And I'm at my rope's end. And it's all at work. I just feel like I'm constantly in trouble, in the doghouse. And I hate it. At work, I feel the best strategy is to lay low and walk softly, and unfortunately, I am not too gifted in either of these areas. I am getting better every year, though. I know that for a fact. And the thing is, I like my job. But just like that student that can't handle failing a quiz or getting reprimanded, I want to be appreciated and that's it. I don't want to be in a negative spotlight ever. I want my bosses to trust in me and respect me and see the good things that I do. I think this is pretty normal, right?

I guess the moral of the story here is that I can't let it knock me down. I've got to keep the ol' chin up, a smile on my face and not lose my cool. No matter how many unlucky little crappy things may happen, I've got to remember all the good that lies below the surface that I may forget about from time to time.

sundays are for flirting

Today, I made apple-parsnip soup and it was the kind of Sunday that makes me wish that there were more Sundays in the week. It is cold out (38 degrees today) and I am sore as a mother fucker from yesterday's sadistic workout. It's the kind of sore that makes you feel like you did something really good for yourself. So, although I look like Frankenstein when I go up and down stairs and I groan every time I go to sit or get up, it feels good. And, like most Sundays, the best part of the day is the movie I'll usually see in the evening.

I'm going to see Melancholia in a little while with a friend of mine. We love to see movies at this fabulous theater blocks away from me- no subway, no fuss. It's just a short walk down a few blocks from where I live. This theater is so popular that the movie tickets often sell out hours in advance. I've had that happen twice where there are no tickets left for the entire night. I don't like ordering tickets over the computer. It's annoying for several reasons:

1. I like dealing with people, that personal touch is comforting to me. Let's say I lose my ticket, I can go talk to the bartender who sold me my ticket and say, "remember I bought the ticket at 4pm?" Yes, there is a bar at our theater and the bartender is pretty amazing. More on him later.
2. The second reason I don't want to order over the computer is that they charge $1 more. I know that this is not going to break my bank, but think about it: would you take $1 out of your wallet and burn it for no reason at all? No. Probably not. That's what it feels like to buy movie tickets online. If it's sold out, maybe that's the universe saying, " you're not meant to spend you time this way, Laura. Go, fly!" And if I really want to see something, I'll walk there a few hours prior and buy my ticket.

I like going to this particular theater for so many reasons. It is close, clean, cool, they have the best popcorn in the universe, table (or seat) service in the theater, and two bars outside. Working the bar on my lucky nights is Eric*. Eric is a flirt. He is extremely good at it. He makes killer drinks, comps them, and talks to me in between customers, throwing in flirty comments all the while. I feel like a teenager when Eric is working. I don't think I'm capable of having even a halfway intelligent conversation with him because I can't think straight. My heart races and out of my mouth comes ridiculous little things. I try to be cool and have a seat and take it easy and it just doesn't work out very well. After I bought our tickets tonight, I sat down for a second, told him about my work out and then proceeded to talk about brandy. I don't even know. Then I told him I had to go, walked down the stairs, thought I didn't pay, so went back up, told him how I did that the other day at my friend's cafe, and then finally left. Now, I am an intelligent woman. I stand in front of 30-something students a day and haven't felt at a loss for words in years. I am a talker, can hold a conversation about most things (not politics. I hate politics) and the fact that I turn into a giggly, giddy mush around this person is hilarious. Especially because I am 35 and he can't be anything over 26. It's borderline dirty-filthy.

So, in a few minutes, I have to go back to the theater and sit at the bar and pretend that I'm cool while Eric smiles that smile and flirts with me. I know bartenders, I'm no dummy, but I'm so not immune to a cutie. Nuff said.

* Eric is a fictitious name to protect the privacy of the innocent... although he is so not innocent!

slow down this old train

I've been thinking a lot about things that I overlook because they happen all the time in the place where I live. When you're on vacation, you are forced to stop and examine, appreciate, smell, savor, enjoy. Every little thing, when you're a traveler seems so fresh. I have pictures of No Smoking signs from Alaska and cologne ads from London in the late 90s. Why do we not stop and savor everything in life though? Life goes so fast and things change in the blink of an eye.

We should be appreciating everything that we like while it's around and while we are near it, like that cafe that I sit in to write where my friend works. It smells like heaven, they play soft music, and it feels like I'm sitting in a cafe somewhere in Europe. And I should enjoy every second of that because my friend won't always work there or maybe I'll move or have a child and suddenly have no time for cafe dwelling or (horror of horrors) they shut down or change locations. The point is, you don't know how long you have something so we should all just slow down this fast train...

Aren't we all travelers on this trip called life, anyway?

I made this video two years ago. October of 2009. Things were the same, yes. But some things are so different now. Everything was shot in a single Friday afternoon within a five block radius of my home and there is so much going on. There are so many people moving so quickly. Some are having a lazy afternoon like my friend and me, just skipping stones at the river. And then, there's a shot of adults engaged in a conversation and a child off just a little apart from them, throwing stones in the river. It's interesting because that afternoon, when my friend (who bought me that video camera for my birthday) and I went on that walk, he was encouraging me to look around with different eyes. Initially, I wasn't seeing how special these moments were. Once I opened my eyes and started to film, I saw how interesting the world around us is. Faster, Pussycat! Kill!... Kill! seems disjointed there, but it was on when we went to pick something up from the bar he manages. At the time, I thought it seemed fitting.

And I had to show off my many-in-a-row-cartwheel skills...

I'm moving to Kepler 22b

Rumor has it that after years of combing outer space looking for Earth's long lost siblings, NASA has finally stumbled upon a new planet that they say could be just right for life. This planet, which is referred to as Kepler-22b, is within what they refer to as the "Goldilocks Zone," which is the band of distance away from a star which could allow for liquid water.* Kepler-22b circles a star much like our sun, has a year of 290 days and has a temperature of about 72 degrees... sounds like Los Angeles. And I have some questions about this:

1. Are humans going to rush into inhabiting and then, quickly, deplete it of all of its resources and trash it like a bad frat party the way we did with Earth?
2. Is there going to be some kind of lottery for the lucky few who get to go and start a new life on Kepler 22b like in the movie, Another Earth?
3. Can I have in because I would like to go.

It's funny, all these movies are coming out lately about another Earth being seen and a planet set to collide with Earth and the imaginings of what could happen if this were a reality. And now it is. My father has always told me, since I was very little, that science fiction is just getting us ready for reality. When he was very little, before man ever went to the moon, my father watched Buck Rogers and never in a million years thought that this science fiction show would ever be something that he would witness in his lifetime. And here we are, just a few short years later, finding out that NASA is looking, no, racing, to find another planet that could be right for life (because we done fucked this one all up and need to start again) and they've found one.

I have a vision of what needs to go down in order to restore justice in the world and for Earth to have a chance to purge itself of all of the garbage it has had to endure for as long as humans have discovered how to play with fire. Here's what that vision might look like, as it plays out in my mind:

There is a highly intelligent system for choosing people who get to start a society on the Kepler-22b. These people who get to go are forward thinking, noble, and driven toward sustainable living. They have a working knowledge of how to live with a light footprint and in an eco-friendly way. These people who get to start the new society understand that everyone needs to live within their means and work with what foods are available and in season and there is NO factory farming and no large corporations belching out chemicals into the land around them. People will go back to a simple way of life and not compromise our health for ease and comfort, nor will we compromise the happiness of the world in which we live. We would instill that value in everyone who lives on this Kepler-22b.

All people who work as a higher up for a corporation or in some way screws the environment and compromises the well-being of other humans for a shit-load of cash must stay on this Earth in which they have screwed. Bye-Bye, heartless, soul-sucking assholes! I'll see you in HELL!

Around the time that all the forward-thinking people who care will be put upon a rocket ship that is environmentally sound and doesn't rip apart the ozone layer or contribute to smog or pollution in any way. Once all us smarties who care are safely up in this new world (and yes, I put myself in this category) creating our own personal Utopia, the Earth will exact its plan of vengeance. An ice age will begin. In order to replenish itself, the Earth will have to spend a long time under ice. And somehow, the Earth will win.

Wouldn't that be nice? This is what I'm picturing.

Do you think if I proposed this plan in a letter to President Obama, he'd go for it?

*http://www.washingtonpost.com/national/nasa-finds-new-planet-kepler-22b-outside-solar-system-with-temperature-right-for-life/2011/12/07/gIQAPfzFdO_story.html

toning up my happiness

Today, work started out on a bumpy road. I thought to myself, "this day is shit." As soon as I had a minute to breathe, I walked into my friend's classroom to commiserate, as she was having a rough time last week. I figured she'd have something to add and we could bitch about how we both feel bad together. Why is it that I really feel violent towards an outwardly happy person when I'm feeling bad? Why can't I let their mood rub off on me instead of wanting to drag them through a muddy puddle by the feet, the whole time thinking: "that oughta wipe that shit-eating grin off their stupid face!"

It's because being in a rut, wallowing, feeling sorry for yourself, and throwing yourself an all-out pity party takes a lot less energy than turning your thinking around, forcing yourself to make healthy decisions for yourself, no matter what. It's easy to wallow. It's easy to put your pajamas on, flop down in front of the tv with a pint of ice cream or a chocolate chip cookie the size of your head, and give a giant middle finger to the world, surrendering your power to the darkness. It's a lot harder and takes work and tons of character to pull yourself together and remind yourself that this too shall pass and you will still live your awesome life with a smile.

Anyway, I walked into my friend's room and we talked about how times is hard. (No. That is not a typo- I prefer the saying 'times is hard.' It reminds me of Helena Bonham Carter singing to Johnny Depp in Todd Sweeney, while rolling the roaches out of her dough for her grotesque meat pies.) After we discussed what was going on for us, my friend, Sue, who is wise beyond her years and always has been, even in college when we were throwing up in alleys after drinking too much and spending money on bad tattoos and belly button rings, Sue went mountain biking on weekends, swam during the week, and studied a little bit every night at the same time. Sometimes, I wanted to kill her for having it all figured out. Now I see that I am lucky to get to talk to this wealth of amazing knowledge every weekday! So, this wise friend of mine made one statement that made me think about bad moods and crap days and shitty luck for the rest of my Monday and right up until now, early evening. She said, "... this morning, I decided to be in a good mood." It was in the context of what was going on for her and it stuck with me. She decided to be in a good mood. It is all in our power to change our moods whenever we want.

The thing is, I get into modes where I don't want to change my mood and that's when it feels like it's less of a choice and more of a jail sentence. "I hereby sentence you to three weeks of a crappy mood and you will feel down, your luck will be bad, and your friends won't understand you." Great. But this mood of mine, this fragile state, as I like to call it, has been hanging around for about a week and after Sue made that simple statement, I realized that I want to, have the power to, and will get myself into a better state of living.

In The Art of Happiness, the Dalai Lama talks about how serenity and happiness are a choice but it's a choice that you have to work at. It doesn't come naturally and easily every day to everyone. To be truly happy from within, to smile with your mouth, heart, brain, liver, skin, and every other fiber of your being takes dedication, work, and practice. That's the thing. You have to make a concentrated effort to look at what is bad and find what is good. One of the nicest and happiest people who works in my building said just that one day. Because I asked him. I asked, "How do you manage to stay so happy and graceful when things can be so annoying and crazy sometimes?" and he said that old cliche that is 100% true. He said, "whenever that stuff happens, I look until I find the good in it. I look at the glass as half full and not half empty."

And that, my friends, takes work. But like all work, in the end, you feel like you did a job well done when you put your time in.

i am here, dammit!

I want to live in Iceland.

I think about it all the time. When people find out that I spent a week there this past summer and ask me how I liked it, I feel like I'm talking about a past love when I answer wistfully, "amazing." as I shake my head in wonder of it all. Iceland has it all, beautiful people, fashion, art, music, nature, pools, excellent bread and cheese, which is all I care about, really. I wonder what would have happened had I been born to an Icelandic family with strong Viking roots and grew up on that tiny island that's just hanging out in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Well, based on what I know of myself and my history of moving around, I'm willing to put money on the fact that I'd probably make a play for NYC.

Isn't it funny that you could wish so badly that you're anywhere else in the world but where you are? Whenever I travel, I picture myself living there. When I was in Barcelona, I tried to imagine myself speaking fluent Spanish and riding my motorbike to the American School for another day of teaching cute Spanish children. I imagined myself meeting up with my circle of cool, international friends after work for wine and dinner, staying out way too late and it not effecting my work performance because, for some reason, in Spain, everyone is supposed to stay out really late on weekends AND on weeknights.

But the thing is, I know that all the bajillions of tourists who circulate my neighborhood every single day are doing it too. When I come out of my cute little brownstone with my dog on my lively, bustling street, I bet tourists are looking at me and thinking, what if I lived there? What would it be like?

There are special things about every place (well, not every place; I've yet to find one redeeming quality for Hempstead, Long Island.) but what am I missing out on while I fantasize about getting an apartment overseas and sitting in a cafe talking to a Scandinavian man over coffee and cake? Probably not that much, really, I mean, this imaginary Scandinavian man is quite beautiful.

sandpaper morning

Remember how awesome October was? Well, it's been over now for a while and I'm still trying hard to ride that high. All that motivation I had- where did that go? I actually considered myself a bit serene during that time... SERENE! ME?

Here we are, getting to know December of 2011 and so far, December, you're not doing it for me the way October was...

This week has been rough. Some shit went down at work that had me feeling on the spot and..., well, shitty. I've been turning much more introspective, which is never a good thing for a person like me. I believe that staying far out of my mind and not examining my feelings under a microscope is a far better strategy for me; easier said than done, right? I have been feeling a bit fragile- fragile, emotionally, fragile, physically (ate junk food for EVERY meal yesterday and haven't had a good work out since Wednesday night), and fragile, psychologically (why don't I want to work out? why am I eating like shit? why are you doing this to yourself, Laura???!!!) I am also in a mode where I am constantly questioning myself around people, probably because I have no filter right now.

It's funny, I do have a filter and I use it. I will use my filter for a long period of time and everything is fine and then every few months or so, it's like, one morning, I wake up and I go about my usual routine and then I come across a person that I know. In the course of our conversation, I will begin to notice that my filter is missing! OH NO! SHIT! It's alright, I'll find it later; I must have left it at home. And when I get home it's not there. It's gone! WHERE'S MY FILTER?!

After a week or two of going throughout my life filter-less and having heads turn toward me, eyes wide after I make a comment or two, I decide to stay home until I find it. And then one day, it shows up, and it's back to normal.

This is the best way that I can describe it. Right now, my filter is missing. And the things that are coming out of my mouth are alarming to me. So, I have decided that I will only go out when necessary. I need to reteach myself how to think before I speak. I believe this to be the cause of 99% of my anxiety. When Amelie first came out, I was living in Portland and took myself to see it... three times, by myself in the theater until I bought it. I like the story and the cinematography and all that but I was head over heels in love her character. And I wished really hard that I could be more like that. Introverted. I wish that I was more introverted. There. I said it. I wish I could sit down, shut the fuck up, and quit needing attention and adoration.

Sometimes, I feel like I need a person, a cheerleader/ coach alongside me all the time telling me how amazingly talented and wonderful I am.

This is how it goes down in my mind:

Me: "Look at the way I put my shoes on and walked out the door! That was good, right?"
Cheerleader/ Coach: "I've never seen anyone do it quite that well before, Laura. You have this really unique way of picking up your feet and stepping when you walk. You should see if you can become a professional walker. I mean, maybe you could be cast in movies to walk in the background."
Me: "Thanks! You're right! I'm gonna do it!"

And then, for a solid two weeks, that's all I will talk about, write about, post on facebook about- how I am looking into breaking into hollywood movies to be a person who walks in the background.

I truly don't know how I got off on this tangent. The point is: right now, I am feeling a bit fragile. I think I need to think before I speak, gain some perspective, and get back on my positive up-swing where it's all work outs and sunshine.