Lauren’s blog

and I'm reminded of the goodness in people.

I'm ready to loathe the opposite sex and the idea of dating in general. I would loathe my sex if they gave me false hopes and broken promises and more unrequited love than I can handle. I don't hate anyone though.. not yet.

My dad's doing. Broken hearts are not always a result of romance. Sometimes your family or your closest friend can break your heart. I don't know anything about romance-involved heart breaks, but I can tell you I feel completely crushed by my family.

So.... I cried a lot, and then I slept as much as I could and I woke up. I woke up, so I decided if I'm getting another day then I should spend it wisely, alone; I need time to recover.

Let me just say that I love my friends more than life itself. Truly, truly. I love my friends.

So, any road, I'm at the gym, and I've just finished my improved workout, pulled together for the sake of getting my mind off of my heart in the emotional sense, and trying to work towards being healthier-- TANGENT. Sorry. Let me start over: so I'm at the gym.. and I've finished my work out and I've just changed clothes so I go to the mirror to fix my hair from frumpy Princess Leia just ran three miles status to decent and there's a woman who has either gotten out of the pool or the shower and she's probably my age or younger.. she's quite possibly twice or three times the size of me in the waist and she's looking at herself naked and smiling. Mind you, this is a gym locker room, and no one (especially me) cares who is naked. I wasn't oggling, I was fixing my hair but I saw that she was smiling. She was looking at her body, by no means America's sexy television star's body (and neither is mine), and she was smiling. She was really happy about herself. And it was because of this, because she was glowing as such, that I found her beautiful.

This is to say, it doesn't matter what size you are or if you're fit enough to run a marathon, as long as you're healthy (or getting there) and feel good about yourself, you shouldn't beat yourself up because your body doesn't look like the magazine models' bodies. But you probably already know this.

I'm spending some time alone now.  I have housemates and they're free to do whatever they want, even talk to me if they so choose.. and if a friend calls I'd be the last person to turn them down,  but I'm really not up for seeking company for extended periods of time, especially if I haven't meditated (in my way, not by chanting 'aum' in a cross-legged position)  for a good two hours.

Now it is time for that beautiful walk as the sun is making its way down to rest.

Salaam alacum.

I wrote my dad the letter I needed to write to him.. and then I sent it.

Now I just have to come out to my best friend and J----. "Prepare yourself for a big train of ugly coming at you from a whole lot of stupid." I think Karindy deserves to know but I'm bracing myself for my dad's reaction all over again. J---- on the other hand.. I don't know how or when to tell him.

It's not safe to be out. It's not okay to be bisexual. I'm repulsive.

How do you belittle someone and get away with it? Is our pain silent? Is not being hurt enough that you'll claim your stance as righteous until we slap some logic into you or will you finally just LOOK and see the result of your actions?
Must we feel as you feel? And when did how much or how little I like dick earn me the rights of a "normal citizen"? Or the love of parents? What does that have to do with anything?

How can I be an out and happy person in public and yet be hiding from the people closest to me? I feel incomplete and torn.

Happy July, Vox!

I am officially moved into the house and I'm über-happy here. I haven't had to go to work in a couple of days because the business was moving too but my boss knew about my move so she hasn't called me in to help (because she's just cool like that). I've been very busy. Very very very busy.

So... more updates when I'm not busy unpacking.

for the selves.. as looney as I am, it's time to come to terms with the fact that my carnie family was a pleasant and unpleasant episode of my life and I was never completely honest with them because I was longing for a place to call home more than I was longing to love myself enough to not need one.

I'm moderate.. not particularly hippie-ish, though leaning more to the left as I'm young and slightly more adventurous than most people suppose of introverts. I'm not particularly conservative, but I like having a safe fall-back especially when it comes to understanding society. This gives me a love-hate relationship with tradition.

I am not nearly complete with the construction of my self.. and I've found a friend who is making his own way as well.. steps forward for me require ending the ambiguity, and steps forward for him may mean keeping my mouth shut.

So how should I proceed?

I am a product of many different cultures and many different environments. I can understand inconsistency, but people often cannot understand mine.

A couple of hours late, but oh well.

My apartment is a mess. I don't want to clean it because I know there are cockroaches hiding around (there were cockroaches before we moved in).. and leaving the mess is only making it worse. Our sink is plugged up so I can't do dishes.. I am terrified of moving because that means I have to clean my room and there is bound to be a cockroach in there. In fact.. I don't really want to go to sleep.

I have a lot to do.

It's not about saving the world or making 2% of an epic overall difference. It's about helping who I can help, even if it's only one other person. I want to give, that's what makes life to me. This is what I love.. not immortality.

I went to a party, and against my typical practices, I was sociable and sober. After my introvert nature kicked in and the crowd exhausted my energy, I sat and contemplated. I was by no means a party-pooper, or sulking in a corner. I just observed. I didn't pity anyone, I didn't feel particularly proud of the two and a half cigarettes I smoked. I just sat on the couch and took it in.

I don't know what I'm going to do with my degree when I earn it. Today is not a numbered 24-hour set in a sequence of days counting down to when I "really live." I really lived tonight, and to be honest, I really appreciated being sober. In fact, I'd say I loved being in my own mind and had so much more fun than I would have had if I was drunk. This does not mean I'll give up alcohol-- there are some drinks I like, and I even had a beer (and my stomach was relatively empty-- but I still didn't even get buzzed), but I am honestly over the whole getting shit-faced for the purpose of becoming sociable-enough. Fuck that. I have no beef with people, and I love myself enough to smile sober and appreciate the people I am with and the moment that I am in.

My plan keeps changing.. but when I sat on that couch and even now I feel satisfied with what I've done with the time that has been given to me, but I feel I can make myself happier if I pursued my dream of teaching abroad, in Africa really. I can write, edit, draw.. I can do what I'm doing now, over there, and make the fraction of a fraction of a percent of a difference by doing what I want to do. I don't have to change the world, I don't have to make a mark. My obsession, my passion, is smiling from the heart-- being happy with reality, and not through romantic escapism. I am not epic. I am Lauren.

Life is not so black and white. Nature is not so simple. And I am not afraid.

my two main selves and the many masks in between, I feel I am beginning to merge them.. and this has been costing me a lot of friendships, and may cost the most painful of them all.. but if this is the consequence of honesty and the forming of the self, I have to bite the bullet.

I anticipate rejection...