YOU GUYS.

So, I’ve been thinking a lot about this space and how I write so much less than I used to and it makes me sad. I’m trying to figure out what would compel me to write more, share more and what kind of space/time I would need to do that.

MORE IMPORTANTLY, I also have been thinking about the fact that I created ‘The Spectrum’ when I was 14. FOURTEEN!!! I am so much older now! GOOD GOD. I AM ALMOST 30.

ANYWAY, when I was 14,  ‘The Spectrum’ didn’t really mean anything or it just meant everything and I thought it was kind of fun, spanning all topics, blar dee blar blagh.

Obviously now, in 2012, almost 2013, things are different. The phrase ‘the spectrum’ is usually used when discussing autism and special needs diagnoses in children.

I would REALLY REALLY hate for anyone to think that I am using this blog to poke fun at that.

And I REALLY REALLY hate coming up in Google searches when poor parents are trying to find information about their kids and then they click here and I’m like HA HA DUMPLINGS AND MY DAD! LOL!

Oof.

So, I’m thinking of shutting The Spectrum down out of respect for the term and freeing up this domain and putting my thoughts elsewhere on the internet.

Anyone have any ideas for new blog names? Do people even have blogs anymore? I should start a tumblr instead but I’m just not into it.

Let me know! I am going to attempt to move some archives and items over to a new space shortly into the new year, which will help get rid of all those old posts I am VERY EMBARRASSED ABOUT while keeping some old favorites.

Your thoughts always welcome!

What’s new with me: I got new glasses and did that weird trendy ombre thing to my hair though you can barely tell. I went to North Carolina to spend some time with my delicious fiancé and his close friends which meant just lots of this + wine:

Ombre + weird face!

Hope you guys are doing awesome! I made so many resolutions but most of them are really boring! AND YOU?

And a happy NEW YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!

xoxo

LD

OVER LUNCH, THAI FOOD

Tom: I’m reading this book about food and how this anthropologist/dentist did research in the 1900′s studying indigenous people and their diets.

Laura: How can you be an anthropologist/dentist?

Tom: He found that people in certain parts of the world had PERFECTLY STRAIGHT TEETH and NO cavities.

Laura: Like, that is the craziest double major.

Tom: ANYWAY. You probably had cavities and crooked teeth because you ate white sugar and flour growing up.

Laura: I definitely did that.

Tom: Well, people that never ate those things had PERFECT TEETH and they lived to be like 130 years old.

Laura: What did they eat? Vegetables?

Tom: Yes! A little meat but if they did, they ate it rarely and they’d eat the ENTIRE ANIMAL.

Laura: Ick.

Tom: Also, fish is good for you.

Laura: For my cavities?

Tom: Right. Well. That’s more to do with sugar.

Laura: But sugar is so delicious.

Tom: But if you don’t eat it you’ll live to be 130.

Laura: I’m never eating it again because I feel myself rapidly decaying as we speak.

Tom: RIGHT???

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, WALKING

Tom: I really feel like a cupcake.

Laura: As do I.

TEN MINUTES LATER, IN THE BAKERY

Laura: MINI CUPCAKES! I’ll have three.

Tom: ME TOO!

*pause*

Tom: Um. No. I’ll have six.

Well, hello!

I few months ago, I wrote some stupid blog post about how I had lost momentum in my life and needed to just go out and MAKE STUFF HAPPEN because I lost my way a little bit. The problem was, in typical Laura fashion, once I got started with a little energy, I became a whirling tornado of DO ALL THE STUFF!!!! and I…um. I got in a little bit over my head.

This is a pretty strong pattern in my life, a tendency to go full throttle and take on as much as possible. (Not sure exactly what that’s about though I have some ideas.) I do have a lot of natural energy so bouncing around at high speeds is my ‘NORMAL’ setting and it is very, very hard for me to be still and just have a quiet night at home because WHAT ELSE COULD I BE DOING? I KNOW! I’LL COLOR COORDINATE THE BOOKSHELF AND TAKE AN ONLINE PERSONALITY QUIZ AND WHAT IS HAPPENING ACROSS THE STREET? SHOULD I GO SEE???

The challenge of living this way is that I will go go go until I physically can’t anymore and then I crash and burn and wonder whyyyy I can’t have a cookie and go to bed early because I’m so tiiiiiiiiired.

I’m sure we’ve all hit this place a few times, probably in college. Or at really stressful times in our lives when there is just simply too much going on.

I just kind of…operate this way all the time?

And it is so so fun until it is ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLE.

It’s not the greatest pattern and I think my big New Year’s resolution will be to gently and determinedly work on uprooting it at its core which I already know will not be fun for me at first. AT ALL.

It’s not really awesome to be running all over the place like a crazy face, especially when you’re engaged to a human being who you want to spend time with and who wants to spend time with you. This partnership is teaching me lots of things, in an obvious way that my life is no longer just about Myself. (SURPRISE.) That’s a difficult adjustment for me to make because all these years of dating and not dating in NYC have taught me how to be really self-sufficient and a little self-involved in that I don’t always pause and stop to think about the way others might be affected by my choices.

Or even me, for that matter! I’m not taking care of myself and therefore, I’m definitely not taking care of anyone else.

This is all to say that HI! I moved into an apartment and started a new job and I’m halfway done with my 200 hour vinyasa teacher certification and I’m doing a workshop of a new musical improv form a few nights in December and my fiancé is the studliest man alive and we’re trying to lock down a time and place for our wedding which is exciting but also impossible because weddings are expensive and HOW ARE YOU GUYS DOING? I HAVE BEEN A BIT BUSY.

Oh, I was so cute when I thought I would like, blog my way through my yoga training.

HA HA I’VE BEEN DOING IT FOR SEVEN WEEKS.

(I love it so hard.)

Also, I went to Los Angeles for Thanksgiving but my 2nd day there, my lips ballooned up like Meg Ryan’s due to an allergic reaction and hives broke out on my chin and my wrist and I ended up in an urgent care clinic where a nurse practitioner named Big Daddy gave me two shots of steroids and his carrot cake recipe.

In short, slow down, everyone.

And…I’ll just leave it at that.

The end.

So.

A hurricane hit my dear city (and me).

As you might have heard, it hit us hard.

(Famous last words from my boss on Friday before the storm “Everyone is freaking out for nothing. This will be NOTHING.”)

NOT QUITE.

The city is recovering because it is the freaking best city in the world.

I am recovering too but it’s going to take some time. My body and my mind were put under some seriously stressful circumstances.

I was staying in the East Village at my fiancé’s apartment when Sandy came to town. We were planning on moving him to our new apartment in Long Island City, Queens on November 1st so his apartment was more than half-packed up already. The move was postponed to Thursday due to the damage. We were a few blocks from the ConEd transformer explosion on 14th St. and FDR. We heard the explosion on Monday night. Then the power went out and stayed out until we moved on Thursday in the dark, using headlamps, wrapped in a few layers of sweaters and snuggies due to the rapidly falling temperatures.

We arrived safely in LIC Thursday night to find that we did have power in our new building but no hot water due to the basement flooding and the boiler frying in the salt water.

As of yesterday, we can finally take a hot shower and our subway line has been restored so we can travel as needed.

We know other people (including my parents) are not as lucky. They are out on Long Island without power, heat, cell reception still.

But my family and friends are all safe and all have their houses/apartments and belongings intact.

I am lucky to be alive. Lucky that our apartment didn’t flood. Lucky that we had food and water and each other, even in the dark.

I’m going to try to document in detail what we went through later (the generosity of strangers, my sweet little 1998 Ford Escort driving us through the darkened streets of Manhattan up to where there was light and heat and power, the mouse that kept us up all night in the old apartment trying to eat our food after we went to bed, sitting in the freezing cold waiting for the movers who showed up two hours late).

For now, we are safe. We are getting back to a routine. I am back to work tomorrow. Never thought I’d be so happy.

Hope all of you are okay out there, this was a rough one.

xoxo

After the shock of being engaged wore off (as well as the shock of moving into a new apartment, beginning yoga teacher training and starting a new full time job, NO BIG DEAL GUYS), I realized that eventually I would have to take steps to plan our wedding. I’ve always considered it kind of neat that I’m a down-to-earth gal who has definitely dreamed of being married but never really dreamed of what her wedding would look like. Now I consider that line of thinking COMPLETELY NONSENSICAL AND AWFUL.

(23 YEAR OLD LAURA! QUICK! START READING SOME BRIDAL THINGS! MAKE A LIST! NOWWWW!)

This is because girls who know how they want their BIG DAY (can we stop using this phrase? THANK YOU) to go probably shift easily into wedding planner mode. I am having some trouble making this transition. I’ve just been sitting around thinking that I should probably wear a dress of some sort and we should make a list of people we want to show up. Then I eat a bowl of cereal and consider my work for the day done.

Apparently, this is not how weddings are planned.

WHO KNEW???

Luckily, my fiancé (WHAT! I HAVE A FIANCE!) has been to about 35 million weddings and is a wonderful resource to use. I get stressed out when I think of the wedding as a huge gigantic blob of ?????????? What’s helpful is to think of one step at a time. First, we make a list of people we would like to invite so we can see how many guests there might be. Then we can move onto venues that can accommodate that number. EASY PEASY, RIGHT? (No, because then I think about the time of year I want it to be and if I want it near the beach or near a lake or in a barn strung with twine that my great-great grandfather made years ago on his farm in Poland.)

(This twine does not exist but you just try taking these Do It Yourself wedding websites seriously because I cannot. All I’ve learned is that I should use mason jars for something. ANYONE???)

The thing is, you guys, I am terrible with decision making. I second-guess myself constantly and it turns out that when you plan a wedding, you need to DECIDE things. Which is so great! You get to CHOOSE! My issue is that I love everything! I want a beach wedding AND a barn wedding AND my parents backyard AND let’s all fly to Costa Rica! WOOOOOOOO!

The TV show about planning my wedding would not be called SAY YES TO THE DRESS, it would be called SAY YES TO ALL OF IT YEAHHHHHHHH YOU GUYS PARTY TIME! (c).

Uh.

Hm.

Help.

Lucky for me, I know what I DO NOT want my wedding to involve so I made a list and hope this will get me closer what I *DO* want.

Here is the list of things that I’d like to avoid:

1. Dry/bland wedding cake

2. Anything involving a garter belt and other people watching

3. Anything involving the word ‘registry’.

4. Twine

The End.

So looks like I’m doing pretty well, right? I basically just need to stay fully clothed and make sure we have delicious desserts.

Is this thing planned yet?

In a span of about two weeks:

I started my 200 hour yoga teacher training program.

I moved into a new apartment.

I got engaged.

I got a job offer for a full time super awesome interesting position at my company with benefits and paid vacation and sick days AKA Something I Have Never Had Before In My Adult Life.

Oh, also I bought a new spice rack.

I realize this is all…

A lot.

I realize that life usually doesn’t work out this way but sometimes it does and I need to ride this peak with all my might so that one day when things aren’t going so hot, I can clink Amstel Lights with the stranger next to me on my barstool and drunkenly slur, ”REMEMBER OCTOBER 2012? Shit, that was awesome.”

IT IS SO AWESOME!!!

It’s so awesome I don’t even know where to start so I’ve just been walking around smiling a lot. I celebrate every day. Today, for example, I ate both a small brownie AND a huge cupcake. I wasn’t even sorry about it. Why should I be?

A new job, a super studly fiancé, a new apartment in a great new neighborhood, a place to hold my basil and thyme!? COME ON! Get excited. Also you can hit me if you want because I feel like this is getting to be obnoxious. But really, you can think of this as a make up post for all the sad dramatic blog entries that you’ve read over the years. Blogs that began “So I lost my job” or “I got in a fight with someone” or “Blah blah and I broke up”.

HA HA SUCKERS!

Those days are over.

Now I can do what I really want which is furiously type up an immense collection of boring blog entries titled things like “That Time Everything Went My Way”, “Having It All: My Life Every Day”, and “My Spice Rack, My Love”.

Get excited, you guys!

Woo!

My boyfriend got down on one knee on Friday night in our new apartment, amid unpacked boxes everywhere, and asked me to marry him.

No elaborate sunset top of a skyscraper rose petal fancy dinner skywriting Jumbotron proposal for us.

It was absolutely perfect. Exactly how I would have wanted it if I had to choose it myself.

Just the two of us, me of course completely taken by surprise, hair wet from the shower I took after yoga class, no make up, bawling my face off once I realized what was going on. He in his gym shorts and sneakers, underdressed to make sure I didn’t suspect, smiling up at me with so much love that I will remember that look on his face for the rest of my life.

If our marriage is anything like that, the two of us plain as can be, standing together laughing and crying and hugging in the middle of a huge disaster area, well. I think we are going to be very, very happy.

More details later but for now, just know that I can’t stop crying, can’t stop beaming, can’t stop staring at the beautiful diamond on my finger.

Oh, life is just the absolute best right now.

Welp.

Tomorrow I am vacating the apartment I’ve lived in for seven and a half years.

The apartment I’ve lived in for almost the entire decade of my twenties.

I spent my childhood growing up in a house with my family. And then I moved out and grew up even more in this apartment because oh, twenties, you are tumultuous. All the turmoil that came with this decade (which, let’s be honest I am more than happy to leave behind for good in about six months), was worked out and through on the third floor of a little family house on a tree-lined street in Queens.

I can’t seem to articulate all that I’m feeling about leaving. And with me, as you can imagine, I AM FEELING QUITE A LOT.

Above all, I am excited about creating a new home for myself with a person I love like crazy. I feel so grateful for that. If I’m being honest, I’m not sure I ever believed such a person would come along, though my twenties were filled with hope that he would.

I don’t feel apprehensive about sharing a space with my boyfriend at all. I’ve been warned by multiple people that “you don’t really know a person until you live with them” and that may be true but I’m not buying it. Not really.

I don’t know everything about him, I doubt I ever will. But I know the basics by now about how we operate. And for me, that is enough and it is beautiful and loving and when it’s not, we figure it out so I’m actually thrilled at the opportunity to learn even more about him. This leads to learning more about me and how I react and handle things and all of it is so, so good.

(The basic dynamic of us sharing a space are this in case you’re curious:

Me, who shared a room with a sibling from age 0-18: DON’T YOU WANT TO BE CLOSE TO ME? ALL THE TIME? COME HERE, JUST FOR A SECOND, WHAT ARE YOU DOING, WHAT ARE YOU THINKING, LET’S HANG OUT! ISN’T THIS FUN? LET’S TALK SOME MORE! TALK TALK TALK HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGS!

Him, who always had his own room: Um, I love you a lot and appreciate your energy but can I sit over here for a little while by myself? Then I’ll be right back. Thank you!

Scene.)

Anyway, I’m not worried.

I’m excited.

But it’s bittersweet.

I haven’t really heard a lot of people talking about some of the grief that arises when big life changes occur, particularly when the change is romantic in nature. I’m used to being fed the idea that a partner will complete you and make you happy and you never have to worry again!

Thankfully, I met my boyfriend after I learned that none of those things are true. In fact, I think I met him partly because I stopped waiting for someone to complete me, make me happy, give me things. I worked on completing myself. Making myself happy. Giving myself what I needed instead of relying on someone else to do so.

So, there is excitement. But there is also a little bit of grief at the things I’m leaving behind, mostly the home that I’ve known for so long.

The kitchen where I’ve baked countless cupcakes, a million dinners (all involving pasta of some sort), cursing the 1950′s oven that has a habit of just ceasing to work whenever it feels like it. The dining room where I cooked Alayna so many Friday night dinners when she was engaged to the man who is now her husband, drinking wine, sharing the chocolate bars I kept in the freezer.

The living room where many a guest has crashed on the sofa. The blizzard that kept me and Troy inside for an entire weekend, we baked cornbread and sat on the couch watching movies. Attempting to put up a Christmas tree by myself. Realizing I bought two different colored sets of twinkling lights. Walking with Alayna to CVS to exchange them, cupping hot To Go mugs full of spiked cider.

The bedroom where I sleep, all by myself, occasionally getting scared when I realize no one else is home. The shape of my closet door in the dark. The window facing the backyard open in the summer, the muffled sounds of voices talking and laughing late into the night. The sheets I bought from Pottery Barn, one of my first expensive grown up purchases.

Moving my car each week for street cleaning.

How I can parallel park like nobody’s business because of that.

Steve at the bagel shop who boxes in his spare time.

Felix who knows how I like my egg sandwich.

Jennifer who does my dry cleaning and laughs every time she punches my last name into the computer because what kind of name is that?!

The park I’ve weaved through while out for a run. The pavement where I fell and sprained my ankle and knee. The cabbie who drove me home because I couldn’t walk.

The chimes drifting up from the church a few blocks away on Sundays. The Greek Orthodox priests who lead a solemn parade around the neighborhood on Good Friday at midnight. The Italians who close down the main street for a weekend every summer to have a street fair. The Greeks who get jealous and close down a similar street the very next weekend, not to be outdone. The Muslims during Ramadan who lay out their prayer mats on the pavement every evening, too many of them to fit inside the mosque, nodding quietly at me as I gingerly step around them on my way home.

The Thai place.

The trains rushing over the Hellgate bridge.

The man at the liquor store who, according to his business card, is named “Prince Ali”.

When I showered with a roach.

When my roommate fried a rat in his car.

When we had a mouse or five.

When I lived with the most hilarious girl ever.

When the crazy guy next door shot his ex-wife and step-daughter”, when the guy downstairs left his motorcycle running and nearly killed us all with carbon monoxide, when the other guy downstairs got so drunk he passed out in the street in front of the building and three gorgeous firemen rang our doorbell at 6 in the morning to identify him. How my roommate and I cursed the fact that we were in our pajamas then because did you see those firemen?! Yowza.

Mostly though, the rooms, the walls of my apartment standing strong when I got a callback, when I didn’t get the job, when I got up early for auditions, when I hated auditioning, when I lost my job, when I cleaned my room on a Saturday morning blasting 80′s music, when I broke up with someone, when I cried so hard I thought I would never stop wishing desperately for any kind of comfort at all, when I laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe, when I realized the value of friendship and love and gratitude.

My beautiful crazy wonderful home.

I am going to miss it and all the people that went with it oh so very much.

The sun rises earlier in the country, or so it seems, which is why I found myself trying to figure out the coffee machine with my sister in the kitchen on a Saturday morning at 7:45. (Let’s just say I don’t usually wake up before 12 10 on a weekend if I can help it.)

Our beloved Brooklyn father was already long gone to the local grocery store, on a mission to pick up olive oil for cooking and a few rolls for breakfast, the two things we forgot to purchase the night before. The farm house we rented for the weekend had a very open layout and the beautiful hardwood floors and lack of walls made it easy for sound to travel.

My father has a loud booming voice and when told to try to keep it down, the best he can manage is a loud stage whisper that can still be heard a mile away. (Which is why when I write about him using dialogue, he’s always screaming in capital letters regardless of location or subject matter.)

A few minutes into hanging out with my sister, my father walked in the back door into the kitchen. I made a frantic hand gesture, a weird kind of mimed shush-ing maneuver, a gentle reminder to lower his voice because everyone else was sleeping but my dad, it turns out, already had quite an adventure and he was eager to tell us all about it.

“SO,” he said, setting the groceries down on the counter. “I BROKE UP A FIGHT AT THE SHOP RITE THIS MAWNIN’.”

…

“What?”

“I BROKE UP A FIGHT AT SHOP RITE THIS MAWNIN’.”

“Explain yourself,” I whispered. “And can you speak softer?”

“WELL,” he said, speaking even louder, “I GOT INTO THE EXPRESS LANE WHICH HAD A MAXIMUM OF SIX ITEMS. I WAS A LITTLE NERVOUS BECAWZ I ACKCHEWALLY HAD SIX ROLLS IN A BAG *PLUS* THE OLIVE OIL WHICH TECKNICKALLY MAKES SEVEN ITEMS BUT IT TURNS OUT, DA WOMAN AHEAD OF ME HAD LIKE, A MILLION ITEMS AND SHE WAS TAKIN’ FOREVA TO BUY HER STUFF.”

“Right.”

“AND I MEAN FOREVA. SO I’M WAITIN’ THERE AND OF CAWSE I’M GETTIN’ ANNOYED BUT NOT AS ANNOYED AS THE GUY BEHIND ME BECAWZ AFTER 15 MINUTES HE YELLS AT HER AND SAYS SHE BETTA MOVE HER FAT F***ING ASS.”

“WHAT???????????” exclaimed me and my sister. (It must be said that we were shocked at the story of the dude in the store but even more shocked that my dad actually said fuck out loud, a word I’ve heard him say maybe twice before in my entire life.)

“YEAH. SO SHE TELLS HIM TO SHUT UP AND THEN HE SAYS TO HER, ‘I’M GONNA KICK YOUR F***ING ASS!”

“What a jerk,” I said.

“YEAH. HE WAS A JERK. BUT ALSO SHE HAD LIKE A MILLION ITEMS IN THE EXPRESS LANE WHICH I DON’T THINK IS RIGHT.”

“It happens.”

“YEAH BUT I MEAN SOMEONE SHOULDA SAID SOMETHIN’. THE SIGN SAYS SIX ITEMS.”

“Okay, yes. Then what?”

“YEAH. SO THEN I BROKE UP THE FIGHT.”

“Wait. What?”

“WELL HE SAID HE WAS GONNA KICK HER ASS SO THEN HE TRIED TO DO IT.”

“He actually moved towards her like he was going to punch her?”

“YES.”

“So what did you do!?”

“OH I JUST DID WHAT I USUALLY DID WIT THE 8th GRADERS IN DA SCHOOL I USEDTA TEACH AT WHEN THEY WOULD FIGHT. I JUST WRAPPED MY ARMS AROUND HIM AND HUGGED HIM REAL TIGHT TIL HE CALMED DOWN.”

“You bear-hugged a stranger in the grocery store at 7:30 in the morning?”

“YEAH. IT’S A GOOD WAY TO STOP A FIGHT.”

“Dad, that is seriously the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“WELL IT WORKED. JUST PUT MY ARMS AROUND HIM. NOT A PROBLEM.”

“You’re saying that like it’s a normal thing to do to an aggressive stranger in a supermarket.”

“YEAH. HE WAS AGGRESSIVE. HE HAD HIS CAMOUFLAGE ON.”

“Deer hunter?”

“PROBABLY. SO ANYWAY I AM A HERO.”

“This is true.”

“SO I BAWT THESE ROLLS, I BAWT SIX WHICH MADE ME NERVOUS BECAWZ WIT THE OLIVE OIL THAT MADE SEVEN ITEMS.”

“Yes. You told me.”

“OKAY SO I’M GONNA TAKE A ROLL PUT SOME BUTTA ON IT AND GO DRINK SOME CAWFFEE ON THE PORCH.”

And that, my friends, is exactly what he did.

Just in case you thought I could spend the holiday weekend packing…

I CANNOT!

Because the Dlugs are going on a much anticipated family vacation beginning this evening.

I cannot tell you the last time all six of us went on vacation. (There was a family wedding in Boston we all went to a few years ago but aside from that…mid-1990′s?)

Last year, my mother, possibly feeling the sadness that was all four of her babies out of the house forever, decided that we should possibly skip Christmas presents and plan a trip instead. We were instructed to just buy each other one small gift for Christmas and then, VACATION HERE WE COME!

What happened was that everyone got one gift.

And we never planned a vacation.

MERRY CHRISTMAS, CRATCHIT FAMILY! (No presents but lots of love! And God Bless Us Everyone!)

Big families = lots of opinions and busy schedules! We couldn’t decide where to go, when to go, what to do, sister in grad school, older brother running marathons, younger brother doing…whatever it is 22 year olds do…

Finally this past summer, I was all ENOUGH ALREADY YOU GUYS and rented a farm house upstate for us.

We had grand plans for apple picking and leaf peeping and oh what a magical Columbus Day weekend it will be!

Welp. Now it’s supposed to rain all weekend so I guess it will be more like…baking pumpkin brownies and drinking wine.

And that sounds…perfect?

Oh, I am so, so excited! Basically because: SO MUCH BLOG FODDER! (My dad, amirite!?!?)

I will be back next week with much to report! Huzzah, fall! family! brownies!