You guys! What’s up for your weekend!?

Thanks for the congratulations on my last post! I am just so freaking excited! YEAH.

In other news, I spent this week living at the twins’ house because their mom was out of town and I am tired, people. Do you know kids get up early? THEY DO. SURPRISE! One of them seems to be able to sleep ’til a reasonable 6:30/6:45 (WHAT THAT IS NOT REASONABLE) but the other is just like HEY IT’S 5:50, EVERYBODY UP LET’S PARTY.

No, child. That’s not alright.

The first few nights, I stupidly stayed up until my usual 11 pm/midnight and then realized that my soul was being crushed the entire next day so I started going to bed at 9.

Nine o’clock, you guys.

I feel…like an old person.

But a well rested old person.

Because when a little voice taps you on the shoulder at 5:45 in the morning and is all, LAURA, CAN I PLAY THE Wii? I’m all, dude, you can set the house ON FIRE for all I care, it is SO EARLY GO AWAY.

Needless to say, I have not been pleasant to be around this week.

I am insanely curious about how parents actually do this sleep deprivation thing for months, years at a time. It is possibly the thing I am most afraid about in regards to maybe having children one day, except for pooping on the delivery table. And I’m not afraid in a whiny way like BUT I USED TO SLEEP IN AND GO TO BRUUUUUUNCH KIDS ARE SO ANNOYING.

But I’m afraid because I am seriously a different person on even one less hour of sleep. And I cannot imagine the person I would be on consistently much less than that, particularly with a newborn who is getting up constantly to like, use my body as a snack. I know this is something I do not have to worry about right now but…how do people DO this? My mom says you adjust and take naps if you can and you walk around in a daze, whatever. She was also lucky to have my dad as he’d let her sleep in on the weekends and catch up.

But…God.

I’m afraid I will like, ruin my baby. Drop it into the washing machine, say. Because I’m too tired and not paying attention. TELL ME, PARENTS. HOW THE HECK DO YOU MAKE IT WORK?

Today is my last day with them and I am pretty sure I am going to sleep the entire weekend. Which is fine because apparently a hurricane is heading towards New York City and is going to carry me away and I feel like that’s alright as long as I can SLEEP.

I am rambling but after a week with them, I am entirely serious – how do you do this, you guys? The answer for me has been: iced coffee and going to sleep at 9 pm.

Is this the life I have to look forward to in a few years?

If ‘yes’, I think I can deal with it because this one time? A few days ago? I took the boys to this craft store place to make soap?

And you get to pick the scent of the soap and we spent a lot of time sniffing the samples, seeing what we wanted our soaps to smell like. Cantaloupe? Peppermint? Birthday cake?

We finally decided and I could not have laughed harder when we walked up to the counter and the lady asked one of the twins which scent he’d like and the adorable almost 7 year old eagerly chirped, “I WOULD LIKE MY SOAP TO SMELL LIKE ‘FRESHLY WASHED MAN’, PLEASE.”

Oh. My. God.

Kids are the best thing ever.

Well. They would be. If they would sign a contract with me promising to sleep until 10 am every day.

The End.

What’s up for your weekend, guys? Do you have kids? Do you ever sleep? Are you scared of the hurricane?

My cousin Tom is in town today for almost a week and I am SO EXCITED TO HANG OUT WITH HIM!! He probably smells like freshly washed man. What? I should stop typing now.

BYE.

The upside to getting up early is getting to have breakfast at a super empty City Bakery.

Seems like since I moved to this crazy city to pursue an acting career, people around me would occasionally throw out “You should do improv! YOU CAN BE FUNNY!” and I would promptly ignore them because I was busy doing other things. LIKE HANGIN’ WIT MAH BOOOOOOYFRIEND!

No. But. Just other things. Like taking music theater audition classes and voice lessons and ON AND ON.

I also stayed away from improv mostly because unlike a lot of people, I never did improv. My high school did not have an improv team, I did not take an improv class in college so with the exception of like, Drew Carey I had no idea what improv was or why I should learn to do it. So I just smiled and was like I GUESS MAYBE PROBABLY NOT? and went on with my life, as you do.

Over two years ago, I finally buckled down and signed up for an Improv 101 class at Upright Citizens Brigade and I am going to be honest with you: it was not because I was finally like THIS IS HILARIOUS! I AM MEANT TO DO THIS! It was because my commercial agent was like uh, you should probably go take improv classes because all commercials are improvised now.

Yes. It was a business move. Not motivated by, like, passion for my art. And stuff. Or anything.

GOD MY STORYTELLING IS JUST SUPERB, RIGHT GUYS?

So I showed up and I want to tell you that it clicked for me and I was SO SO GOOD AT IT! and I was all WHY HAVE I NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE?! IMPROV MAKES MY SOUL SOAR!

Reality: I was a terrible improviser.

As in, I did not understand it at all.

I was sort of like WAIT, ONE SECOND, I AM GOING TO MAKE SOMETHING UP? AND IT HAS TO BE FUNNY? CAN SOMEONE PLEASE HAND ME A SCRIPT AND TELL ME WHERE TO STAND? THANK YOU.

I would get this awful churning in my stomach about a half hour before every class and I don’t even know why I kept going because I felt kind of miserable the entire time.

I suppose I kept going back because every so often…it was fun.

When I could stop being so self-conscious…I had a really, really good time.

I also realized that I was bad at it, that it did not come easy to me and that super duper pissed me off because I am a perfectionist who would like a gold star please thank you! so when 101 was over, I signed up for 201. And then 301. And then 401 which is the highest you can go unless you get passed onto the Advanced Study program.

I was not passed onto the program.

I was upset by this but not surprised because I still didn’t think I was a very good improviser. I was learning, of course I was! But I was not really Advanced Study material.

So I decided to stop.

And I formed a practice group with some of my classmates.

And once a week, with a coach, we would just improvise.

That is correct. We would rent a room and make stuff up for two hours. BECAUSE THAT IS A LEGIT WAY TO SPEND SOME TIME, YOU GUYS.

And outside of the classroom environment?

IT WAS THE BEST. TIME. I. EVER. HAD.

There was no more pressure to BE THE BEST! There was no teacher in front of me to give me notes! There was nothing to do but be the craziest person I could be and I relished that and I felt myself opening up and breaking down the barriers of YOU MUST BE PERFECT! YOU MUST NOT FAIL! And instead I just was ridiculous and often I sucked so much that it was hilarious and I DIDN’T EVEN CARE.

(Here is where you picture the year I spent doing this passing by in a rapid movie montage with an upbeat pro-fem song playing in the background while I make funny faces and jump into the air and show you JUST! HOW! GREAT! I! FEEL!)

During this time (GOSH THIS GOT SO FORMAL ALL OF A SUDDEN), I decided to try my hand at musical improv as well which is basically still making stuff up BUT ALSO MUSIC. As in, making up scenes and then also melodies and lyrics.

Once again, I was super, super bad at this. AND YET, thanks to my practice group, I just tried to have the best time of my life and I showed up and I made up songs and it felt so good to sing again. Really, really sing. FOR FUN. And not in front of people who might want to put me in a show! Just sing! For the glory of singing! IT WAS LIKE CHURCH CHOIR PRACTICE ALL OVER AGAIN! EAGLES’ WINGS, GUYS. EAGLES’ WINGS.

A year passed. (As previously evidenced by the imaginary movie montage.)

I signed up to take 401 again at UCB.

This time, I passed into Advanced Study.

Simultaneously, I went through the entire musical improv program at The Magnet Theater. I finished the final level last week. And this past weekend, they held auditions for their house musical improv teams. Meaning, these teams perform every single Tuesday night at the theater. FOR FUN. FOR PEOPLE WHO WANT TO COME SEE THEM.

I received word yesterday afternoon that I was placed on one of those four teams.

I am now on an official improv team.

At a theater.

And I will be performing there just about every other Tuesday evening.

This all strikes me as insane and awesome and has made me just the happiest girl in the entire world.

Most importantly, it feels rewarding.

Because it wasn’t luck. Or chance.

It was earned by pure hard work.

I tried something, I wasn’t very good at it, I chose to stick with it and get better, I took a pause and found the joy in it, I came back around, I observed those around me and soaked up what they had to show me. Sometimes I was really funny. And sometimes I was really, really bad.

Improv.

Improve.

I improved.

And now I get to sing and be silly on a stage, twice a month. Which is really all I’ve ever wanted to do with my life out of anything in the entire world since I was 11.

It looks different than it did then. It’s not Broadway and it doesn’t pay anything.

But it is Freedom.

And Bliss.

And I’ll take it.

Because I worked hard for it.

So, I just wanted you to know that when you put in some effort and you put your head down and push through the yucky stuff, occasionally a super bright wave of AmazeAwesomeFantasticalness shows up for you.

And you can hop on it and yell THANKS! and ride it where you need it to go.

I am so super happy, you guys.

I thought you might like to know.

For proof that I am not a liar, here.

I know this is incredibly “Eat, Pray, Love” of me but I went to a satsangha last weekend.

A satsangha is described as “a sacred gathering of seekers of Truth, devotees and disciples with an enlightened spiritual Master”.

Guys, I know. I wish we could go back to just talking about what we had for lunch too (red quinoa salad with mango and avocado) but now I’m going to throw a wrench in it and want to talk about our higher selves and stuff. I AM SORRY.

The satsangha was my boyfriend’s idea. I will just say that. So if my mom wants to blame someone for making me do something other than attend 10:30 AM Sunday mass, she can blame him.

I, on the other hand, am incredibly grateful for my boyfriend, for lots of reasons. One is that he is the first romantic partner I’ve had that continually inspires my spiritual practice. He is quite a hilarious human being, incredibly kind but is also That Guy who, after one too many glasses of wine just looks around the table and is all, “Yeah, guys, but come on, what is Truth!?”

I KNOW. You want to punch him! But he’s far too adorable! So you can’t! Argh!

And that’s how you end up at a satsangha on a Saturday night with this Japanese guru who is an Enlightened being and just walks around all the time completely blissed out. It was one of the most remarkable experiences I’ve ever had. We all sat cross-legged on cushions and you could just raise your hand and ask him whatever you like.

The questions were about meditation, relationships, selfish desires, struggles on the pathway to truth. I was far too shy to ask him a question and didn’t really know what to ask anyway. “HI, WHAT DID YOU HAVE FOR LUNCH?”

(Someone actually did ask about his diet. He eats mostly vegetables, FYI.)

It just felt really warm and peaceful to be in his presence. I was just happy to be there. He was so wise, so knowing, so generous. One of my favorite things he said was that should you ever feel an impulse to pray, you should follow it. It was in response to someone who wanted to know which was more beneficial – prayer or meditation.

I grew up with prayer but meditation is fairly new to me and I’ve often wondered the same thing -are meditation and prayer the same? They don’t feel the same. And I’m clear now that they aren’t but that both of them serve an important purpose.

Should you feel an impulse…you should follow it.

I love that phrase for some reason! I mean, with relation to prayer. Not, like, murder.

ANYWAY. At this point in my life, I feel impulses to do lots of things. My idea of spirituality has expanded and I find that the path to God and peace is varied. There is more than one way to take you there. God is in the Catholic mass but He’s also in lots of things – a room full of people sitting in front of a guru and a walk home afterwards holding the hand of the person you love.

God’s everywhere, you guys. Just wanted to point that out because I’ve been thinking about it. Now that I’m, you know, Enlightened.

Wait. I’m not.

But I guess the takeaway is that you should pray if you feel like it and eat your vegetables and as the Japanese guru said, the goal is to reduce suffering. In all ways, every day.

That works for me, I think.

And you?

Observe, how a beautiful bridesmaid walks down the aisle:

Observe how I do it:

Just. What? God.

I’m sorry.

We went to The Stage down on lower Broadway in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon. The band was fantastic and took a ton of requests, eventually singing Garth Brooks’ “Much Too Young (To Feel This Damn Old)”.

Dad and I hollered along to the lyrics we knew and made up the ones we didn’t.

We also witnessed a middle aged woman dressed in barely anything named Angela who kept buying people drinks, announcing to anyone who was listening that she was going to die ‘one happy motherfucker!’ and grinding inappropriately on the dance floor.

Alone.

It was super awesome hilarious.

Behold, Angela:

Behold, two of the cutest people ever:

The End.

There was a great article in last month’s issue of “Psychology Today” about highly sensitive people. I’ve talked before about classifying myself as such and the struggles that go along with being so damn touchy feely. This article is fantastic if you are an HSP but also if you interact with one. (Twenty percent of people are considered HSP’s so there’s a good chance you do!)

Unfortunately, only a small snippet is up on the website, forcing you to buy the actual issue and I don’t know if it’s still around. I’m trying to get my hands on a copy because SOMEONE who shall not be named (Voldemort) threw mine away. Regardless, reading it was insanely helpful for me because:

* there was written medical confirmation that other people experience life the way I do

(they can point to areas of the brain where highly sensitive people have specific unusual activity!)

and

* being a Highly Sensitive Person does not need to be labeled a ‘bad’ thing

These are two really important points for me because they help erase a lot of the shame I often feel about my sensitivity. The article goes onto say that most HSP were told to ‘toughen up’ as children and that their feelings were often downplayed because, well, they have SO MANY FEELINGS! ALL! THE! TIME!

A woman is quoted in the article who might as well be me:

“As a child, a casual schoolyard taunt led to ‘sobbing and histrionics.’ Nowadays a small slight can ricochet through her body ‘like I’m actually wounded.’”

Woah, girl. That would be me.

I don’t blame those around me anymore who don’t understand or who told me to get a freaking grip. I’m not really sure that when I was little, anyone knew what was going on and I have to say that even on your best day, a highly sensitive child can be really annoying/irritating as they can get set off by something that makes ZERO SENSE to you. So, I can’t imagine dealing with someone like me on a regular basis.

In the same vein, dealing with that childhood pain of being misunderstood has been incredibly useful for me. No one really knew what to do with me but I also didn’t know what to do with myself. And I carry a lot of that confusion into adulthood and often feel bad for having any feelings at all not to mention an out of proportion reaction to something.

Thanks to a bunch of things, I’m able to own my sensitivity now. I don’t look to other people to fix it or baby me and tiptoe around me. It’s up to me to learn how to control my emotions and work out ways to interact in a healthy way with others.

Most importantly, the article stated a bunch of awesome things about Highly Sensitive People instead of focusing on all the negative that I usually hear. (WE CRY ALL THE TIIIIIIIIME!) HSP’s are not only incredibly in touch with their own emotions but they are often in tune with the emotions of those around them, even people they don’t know. As such, compassion and empathy and awareness come easily to HSP’s.

Not only that, but there is medical evidence that we not only feel things more strongly than others but we sense things too. We have a heightened sense of smell, taste and can see a vividness to colors that other people can’t. I was completely blown away by these facts because for twenty+ years of my life, I’ve walked around feeling like a weeping freak who has to get it together.

I now realize that my sensitivity is not something to hide, shy away from or apologize for. My work for the rest of my life will be learning how to reign it in and not throw up my reactions all over people. Of learning how to take a break by myself and decompress so I don’t explode. But I’ve accepted that. And I’m more than happy to do that work. (Meditation! THANK YOU.)

Also, one of my greatest weapons is the ability to laugh at myself. So even when a biker snaps at me WHILE GOING THE WRONG WAY I MIGHT ADD, YOU JERK and I cry for three city blocks because HE HURT MY FEELINGS, I’m able to step back and be like OKAY LAURA, THAT WAS DUMB.

Which is a pretty awesome gift. Not to mention all the medical brain jargon about seeing the vividness of colors.

I freaking really loved that.

So, yeah. I don’t know. I just felt like talking about it today as you might be an HSP too or you might know one or you might be that biker who SNAPPED AT ME AND IF THAT IS THE CASE I AM GOING TO KILL YOU.

Right after I stop crying.

July! I think I was in NYC for about 2.5 hours this month. July was wine, Vermont, South Carolina, and Nashville, Tennessee for MARRRRRIAGE!!! There may also have been a late night trip to Wal-Mart the night before the wedding to buy muumuus. Those are probably my most favorite picture of all besides my best friend the morning of her wedding, sitting all dressed up like a movie star. YAYYYY JULY!!!

Traveling here in Nashville with my parents for days on end has taught me a lot about relationships and communicating and what marriage is all about.

Apparently, marriage is about stumbling upon the Stark Trek National Convention at Opryland.

And when your wife, who was a Star Trek fan from a young age (BUT ONLY THE ORIGINAL SERIES, ONLY THE ORIGINAL) sees the sign that says TODAY ONLY: PHOTOS WITH WILLIAM SHATNER, $79, it is your duty as her husband to see the longing in her eyes and say “Go for it, honey. You deserve it.”

And thus, you will have this moment preserved for all of history:

This is marriage, you guys. This is freaking awesome.

Setting: The Station Inn – Nashville, TN

Me: Does anyone want anything?

My Mom: I want a pretzel. You’ll split a pretzel with me, right?

My Dad: Nope.

My Mom: What? Those soft chewy pretzels? You like those.

My Dad: I don’t.

My Mom: Um, yes. You do.

My Dad: I don’t really.

My Mom: Why do you eat them then?

My Dad: You always give me a piece and I eat it but I don’t actually like it.

Me: That doesn’t make any sense.

My Mom: YOU MAKE THEM AT HOME. We used to buy the frozen ones!

My Dad: I like those.

My Mom: THEY ARE THE SAME.

My Dad: No. The ones at home are smaller.

My Mom: It’s the same thing.

My Dad: It’s not. It’s actually very different.

My Mom: FINE. I will have a pretzel. And I will eat it myself.

*fifteen minutes later*

My Mom: (chewing her pretzel) Ooo. It’s like whole grain on the inside.

My Dad: It is?

My Mom: Yeah. See? It’s different from the plain white ones.

My Dad: I’ll try it.

My Mom: Are you serious right now?

My Dad: IT’S DIFFERENT THAN I THAWT. LEMME TRY IT.

My Mom: Fine.

My Dad: (chewing the pretzel) Dat is really good.

My Mom: That’s what I told you earlier.

My Dad: You didn’t say it was whole wheat.

My Mom: I didn’t know it was whole wheat.

My Dad: Well. It is.

My Mom: I know.

*pause*

My Mom: (breaking the pretzel in two) Here. Take half.

My Dad: YOU DON’T MIND?

My Mom: Eat the pretzel.

My Dad: I really like it.

My Mom: I’m going to kill you.

Fin

My best friend is getting married today.

I will most likely weep uncontrollably.

I adore my dear sweet Alayna.

And I think her soon-to-be husband, That’s So Raven (TSR) is a pretty hilarious, kind, tall gentleman.

I am sort of super into the idea that they are gonna get hitched and eventually pop out a bunch of babies for me to cuddle and spoil.

Here’s to marriage and happy endings and new beginnings and my best friend.

The most adorable Southern gal around.

I love you and I am sorry in advance if I cry through my speech or I spill something on your dress.

I am honored to be a part of this.

And am so very lucky to know you.