Calculating horizons

Last night I dreamt I was in a bedroom like mine, or room with a bed type thing. The bed was horizontally positioned against a wall, but didn’t have a head or back support. I think the cover was cream-colored.

“Cynthia” and “Aaron” entered at the same time, but Cynthia did not come on the bed. Instead, she took a white sheet to sleep with her on the ground. I checked on Cynthia a couple times, and was surprised that she didn’t cause more of a problem or “steal” Aaron.

Facing the bed, there was another room on the left. My parents and family were in that other room with a closed door. I think Aaron and I briefly fell asleep together on the bed.  I remember being ashamed about something. He said, No, it’s okay. Cynthia, who was farthest away from the noisy room and still on the ground, didn’t play that big of a role. Aaron kept trying to sleep on the bed, but he couldn’t because of the noise coming from the other room. It wasn’t bad noise, but more of loud conversation noise like in a restaurant. I apologized for the sounds, but don’t remember being able to open the door.

Aaron sat up. At this point I was standing across from him. Nervous, I guess. Aaron looked tired but wired. The two of us talked again on the bed. I seemed to be growing on him or he liked me more than I thought. Aaron invited me to a concert. I asked where, and at first needed clarification but he said beyond a very specific town that made sense to me. He may have wanted to go shopping at outlets too.

Now, I realized the room had a second door towards the front, not close to where the noise was coming from. The other door was one through which people entered from outside. Cynthia may have woken up, but she seemed to be a blessing more than something bad. The people walking to the door had darker skin and were wearing, like, white turbans. They were spiritual people who had come to greet Aaron and me. The time was around 4 am when  the “foreigners” arrived. I call them foreigners because I didn’t know them–there were several men, I think–and felt afraid. This door, though, I had to open. The foreigners weren’t bad, after all, judging by what follows.

I remember the number two. Aaron and I each had two’s meeting each other. Two nights ago, I dreamt of being at my elementary school. I wanted to see my fourth and fifth grade math teacher. But I was on west coast time–three plus one hour late–and got there at 7:30 am ready for class. The secretary woman told me, Sorry, and something about get here at 3:30 next time. A couple weeks ago I had another dream involving time with a different guy. His was 1:15 pm. Me: 1:45. My sister (not to be confused with Cynthia) played a part as well.

My blogging reasons

As a published author, it would be easy to lose myself in promotion work, speaking, coaching, etc., but I still come back to writing as my focus.  When not on, I’m in the process of working on a separate article or otherwise occupied writing and editing. Nonetheless, here’s to why I blog and the way I do!

Number one, blogging regularly shows I’m a versatile writer. Furthermore, blogging often challenges me to become more fluent and dynamic as a writer. My goal is not to master a particular genre or form, but rather to make writing more natural to my processing. Not only am I an author, but I’m also a scientist who blogs about her personal and professional experiments; an anthropologist in the field; a journalist required to crank out articles under deadlines. Although I don’t have a boss, I do have discipline and experience. I participated in two journalism-related activities at different points in high school, including the school newspaper and San Diego Union-Tribune (for which I volunteered as a children’s critic). I discontinued the school newspaper because in order to do that students stayed after school. I needed to workout after school (which I do think is healthy after a long day)! Otherwise I had therapy and then exercised or just wanted to go home. Plus, the social “pressure” with food was more than I could take. I did; however, enjoy learning about the design aspects of the paper and remember feeling a sense of accomplishment when an article I wrote came out.

Next, writing regularly keeps stats and conversations with followers running more smoothly. My topics are relevant; tone stays more consistent. My blog doesn’t read like a novel because it shouldn’t. Still, the more I write, the more people get a general sense of my style and, hopefully, the more they want to come back and visit! Part of the reason I am able to make time to blog often is because I don’t lose myself on other social media sites. I also don’t consume myself with shorter updates, or feel a need to prove things about my personal life through the Internet. is like a laboratory to me, instead.

Learn more about my experience as a writer, here.

Too many sinews

I used to weight train impressively–thirteen or fourteen is when I first got started. In fact, my entire existence revolved around fitness and healthiness, hence the title of my book: In The Name Of Being Well, I Made Myself Sick.

Since stopping conventional training almost four years ago and changing my approach to intensity, I’ve been able to menstruate on a regular cycle. This is excellent, I think, and more important for my well-being and sense of rhythm than having big or even attractive muscles. Actually, in my experience it is still possible to achieve nice or fair muscles without weights through diligent self-care and regular massage. I don’t have as many guy “friends” or men impressed, but would rather be cozy alone in my writing cottage anyways!

Today, I have the freedom to move my body whenever and however I feel like, without feeling confined by the need to exercise or even follow a certain “recovery” regimen. I keep focused on growing spiritually and energetically through nature and the physical, as opposed to finding “Laura” solely through this body, “personal” life, relations with humans…

Nevertheless, I did benefit from becoming a personal trainer at age eighteen. There’s far more to training than weights. I know all about foam rolling, which I do everyday, for instance. I walk outside, stretch, dance, take baths and inevitably do weight bearing exercises. I helped a lot of people when I worked at gyms, especially those who needed more confidence in their balance, wanted to build strength and improve flexibility.

Plastic surgery

As a teenager I must have expressed insecurities about my nose. Because I remember Mom Photo on 3-30-14 at 1.11 PM #2said I could get a nose job (later) if it would make me feel better. That’s what her Mom told her too, apparently.

Some people have made fun of my nose, others say it gives me character. Then again there are those folks who don’t notice period because it fits right.

Roughly eight years ago it was suggested I get surgery on my chin. I did not. Things have improved since learning about chakras, specifically opening the fifth chakra, and last year working with a chiropractor on releasing my jaw. Discomfort there ties back to sucking my thumb, tightness in the head and OCD. For me, getting surgery seemed too convenient; I had an entire journey to conquer!

Since coming back to California a few months ago, I have become more sensitive on appearances. Artificiality oozes down from LA, and I notice more eating disorders. At the same time, though, I am more resourceful and informed at this time than I was as a teenager. Today I appreciate the challenge to get my looks together in ways I otherwise wouldn’t give myself the chance to care about.

My dog

We got my dog when I was twelve. He’s twelve, now. People look at Rocky and think he’s still Photo on 6-30-13 at 8.50 AM #2young.  However, Rocky wasn’t always healthy. In fact there was a point where he was five pounds overweight, which is a lot for his little size. Rocky had brown gook under his eyes too. He got sick when I didn’t make time for him and was too consumed with my eating disorder.

Once, when I was sixteen, I dropped the leash while walking Rocky with my mom. He sprinted down the street and I tried to chase after him but couldn’t keep up. My mom worried a lot that he’d get hit by a car, eaten by a coyote, snake or hawk. But all he wanted was to chase down another dog and stayed right on the sidewalk. He’s pretty smart, I guess.

Rocky is closest with my mom. Sometimes this makes me disappointed because he was supposed to be “my dog,” as the title of this post suggests. For instance, I’ve been away the last three-four months and asked about taking him with me. But Mom wanted him and both parents are discouraged by the idea. It makes me sad because if I could have bonded more with Rocky–if my parents had encouraged on me to take full responsibility–sometimes I think I wouldn’t have felt so alone in the past because he would have been “all” mine to take care of and befriend. Nevertheless, we still get along quite well. Leaving Rocky is difficult. At the same time, I appreciate the space and like outdoor animals such as birds that I don’t have to buy food for, walk on schedule, clean-up after and take to the vet.

When to end a professional relationship

As soon as “feelings” get involved, I think it is important to seriously consider ending a professional relationship or changing one’s position. Although a desirable ending is achievable, in this post I share two examples of mistakes in first person.

First, I was working at a museum. That is when I met “Saul.” Saul seemed to like me, but then he went away. Still, Saul said he was going to come back. After Saul left, my schedule became overcrowded with my other main job. But I kept up at the museum longing for Saul. Meanwhile, I never connected with my work, remained fully distracted by Saul and couldn’t imagine ever being interested in someone else. Eventually, I quit the museum. Although Saul came back later, he didn’t stay long anyways!

“Quentin” is “above me,” a person I’m working with directly, have hired or some combination. Quentin is either friendlier than I am used to or purposely leads me on. The specifics don’t matter; I’ve experienced both. Although I don’t agree with Quentin’s approach on something work-related, I want to keep seeing him and begin to wonder if feelings will develop. But Quentin isn’t actually interested in more; things begin to get awkward. Maybe Quentin doesn’t take me seriously as a co-worker or client (i.e. all women in x-y-z category are “game”). Or, maybe Quentin’s work is not meaningful or important and he wants to keep me interested by getting personal instead. The fact is, I didn’t hire or begin work with Quentin for him to be my friend slash therapist. Now, the combination of feelings and awkwardness gets in the way of work and inhibits me from developing a relationship with someone (else) or just focusing period. In short, I keep paying Quentin or working with him for the wrong reasons–all the while unclear if I truly want him or plainly got set-up–and lose on all fronts. My advice in this example is to disconnect totally; don’t fool yourself. Although, of course, he loves the idea of you being hooked.

Swimming in baggy clothes

Last night I dreamt I was swimming in baggy clothes. More specifically, I wore a particular pair of black capris that I own, except in the dream they were baggier and covered my entire leg.

Although a bit scared and unsure, I wasn’t actually drowning because I remember coming up for breath. It was deep, dark, ocean water. Not dirty, though.

Two of my childhood girlfriends were “teasing” me. They were touching me while I was under the water,  making fun. They were in the water, but walking rather than swimming.

Also featured in the dream was a guy I associate with this time in my youth. I couldn’t tell if he was close or far-off. There’s a chance he was looking for me. But I couldn’t get more near without my friends slash bullies.