A SIDE OF CAPERS.

New Blog! (-ish)

2016-09-28T22:47:00.001-07:00

In an attempt to encourage myself to write more, I have begun collecting and editing some recent writings. The hope is to eventually establish a writing schedule and make regular posts on that page.

The writing will be less personal and more op-ed style: reflections, analysis, ideas about the Universe we live in. Right now there's a certain kind of tone set by the posts that are up there, which is somewhat indicative of the nature of the project.

The new blog can be found at laurajdt.blogspot.com

If you like it, follow it! If you don't like it, thanks for giving it a brief chance! And maybe revisit it again in a month or so to see its progress (maybe you'll like it later?).

Love to all.

Inside My Skin

2014-10-14T10:54:00.000-07:00

I have been feeling increasingly uncomfortable in my own skin these past few months. This isn't a metaphor, not quite, because I quite literally feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I've gained nearly 20 pounds, and while that may not seem like a lot, or even be immediately noticeable to others, I can feel it every morning when I'm trying to squeeze into pants, or wondering how to hide this "life-preserver" that's appeared around my midsection.

I know how to reverse this, I know how to take care of myself, I know what I need to be eating and how I need to be moving in order to see a positive change in my shape. But I am having the hardest time being consistently kind to myself and being a cheerleader for my own team. In some aspects of life, I am doing a great job at self-love and self-support. In other aspects....I am letting myself down.

For me, this sort of behavior (whether it's overeating, or procrastinating, or letting my house get totally messy & sorta gross, etc) is self-destructive. When I am not taking care of myself--my whole self (mind, body, work, art, spirit) it manifests itself in behavior that at first seems simply indulgent ("ok, I will have some ice cream"...."nah, the dishes can wait til tomorrow"....."I don't need to start that research right now") but then quickly snowballs into self-destructive repetition. I make a good show of being a functioning adult when out "in the real world," but when in self-destruction mode, that good show really is just that: a show. The Laura Is A Functioning Adult show is actually helpful, though, because it grounds me and reminds me that I will pull out of the self-destructive behavior, that I am capable of accomplishing things, and that not all is lost.

The End of Another Term...

2011-12-16T19:08:00.001-08:00

Technically I've still got to write two one page (500+ words) journal entries for my "History and Research Methods of Rhetoric and Composition" course, but other than that (which will only take a couple hours), I am DONE with my 2nd semester of graduate work.

Strange...to not have "homework" for a whole month...other than memorizing/rehearsing my pieces for my grad school audition.

I am so blessed, because I know that I will be able to have several eyes on my monologues before going to U/RTA's. I will have several people who know me and my work in very different capacities, and so their biases will be so different, that I really will have a lot to work with in terms of feedback as I shape and polish these.

I WANT TO GET INTO DEPAUL OR NYU.

Honestly, I want to get in somewhere, period. I'm terrified that no one will want to offer a place to me.

It isn't unlikely, you know. The possibility of failing to secure a Fall 2012 acceptance is actually just as possible, and more so than me actually getting in somewhere.

Oh wow....if I could get in to NYC, then Dave and I would be living in the city where I formed my Self...with all the amazing people who helped me to do so: Courtney, John, Clark, Katherine, Kevin, Evan, Mike, Omar, Alexis, Peter, Danielle, Amanda, Janis, Dave (Auster), Wendy & Jeff, KYLE & BCF, all the 101ers...the folks who did Five Seconds to Air with Evan and I....the Dows, Carmel/Donny & their kids....TIFFANY AND BRET...Chris, Andrew....oh man....the list goes on. But Dave and I would be there, in that magical city....

If we were in CHICAGO....THE "I will" city....with Dave's family, and our friends, and the amazing Steppenwolves who have come before (Colin, Jonny, Man, Christine, Leana, Brentan....et. al)....and the amazing potential of that town and its signature theatres--The Goodman, Steppenwolf, etc.--I would absoultely love to be in that space....

Welll. That's where my mind is. Now to go over to my mother's. Be sure--I will tell her this.

2011-11-19T21:27:00.001-08:00

I want to possess the technology that allows the abstraction that is my thoughts to be able to transpose itself into text.

Dear Media: Have I Got A Story For You!

2011-10-22T18:10:00.000-07:00

Here is a copy of an email I sent to KCRA, our local news station, promoting More Than Soil, More Than Sky: The Modesto Poets. I think this needs to get some NATIONAL attention. This is huge, huge, HUGE. Modesto has an amazing cultural community that desperate needs to be recognized. Please read this, and also read the selected poems available on the Amazon preview. And SPREAD THE WORD. Send your own email, alerting the media to this accomplishment, to outlets like The Today Show, The Ellen Show, KCRA, Conan, Letterman, The Times, etc. This accomplishment is major and needs to be known.
_________________________________________________________________

_________________________________________________________________

This morning, at midnight, the online "launch" for a new poetry anthology occurred. That anthology is entitled: "More Than Soil, More Than Sky: The Modesto Poets." Edited by Sam Pierstorff, Gillian Wegener, Stella Beratlis, and Ed Bearden, this anthology has SKYROCKETED to become the #1 Amazon Poetry Best-Seller*, the #2 Amazon Mover & Shaker**, and is in the top 100 Amazon Best-Sellers*** all in under 18 hours since its launch.

Modesto has long been tainted by negative press, in no small part thanks to its rank as one of the top-ten worst U.S. cities to live in due to its unemployment rates, illegal drug production/sales rates, crime rates, gang violence, etc. What those reports can't account for is the pulsating "underground" cultural community that has existed in Modesto for years and has experienced a rebirth in the past two decades. There is a real and vibrant arts scene in Modesto, created in part as a response to the negative image Modesto portrays to society at large. The familiar complaint of "there's nothing to DO here" has been taken to task by a determined and passionate group of artists, writers, thespians, gourmands, and visionaries.

The astonishing and amazing response that the online launch of the Modesto Poets' publication is proof--concrete and unavoidable proof that Modesto can no longer be defined by its poverty rate, its unemployment rate, its disproportionate cost of living, and its continued problems with drugs and violence. If this achievement goes unnoticed, it will be at the potential cost of encouraging continued cultural growth. The very social factors that this arts movement is in response to are also the factors that threaten it: dissatisfaction, neglect, and apathy.

Please, get in contact with Sam Pierstorff at pierstorffs@mjc.edu. You can also find him on Facebook at http://facebook.com/sampierstorff His insight and vision was one of the driving forces behind this book's publication and success. This is a truly inspiring and motivating local story that deserves attention on both a local and national level.

Thank you,

Laura Dickinson-Turner

*Amazon Poetry Best-Sellers: http://www.amazon.com/Best-Sellers-Books-Poetry/zgbs/books/10248/ref=zg_bs_nav_b_2_17

**Amazon Movers & Shakers list: http://www.amazon.com/gp/movers-and-shakers/books/ref=zg_bs_tab

***Amazon Best-Sellers list (#95 as of this mailing): http://www.amazon.com/best-sellers-books-Amazon/zgbs/books/ref=zg_bsms_tab#5

You guys are so awesome!

2011-10-21T16:07:00.000-07:00

UPDATE:

THE FUNDS HAVE BEEN RAISED.

YOU HUMANS ARE AMAZING.

I AM BEYOND THANKFUL.

__________________________________

Yell Talkers.

2011-10-14T17:40:00.001-07:00

I don't understand yell talking. I just don't. How many people are you talking to, exactly? Just those two folks sitting next to you, right? Right. So why the fuck are you essentially yelling everything you say? WE CAN ALL HEAR YOU AS THOUGH YOU WERE SITTING RIGHT NEXT TO US. SHUT UP.

“Existence is a series of footnotes to a vast, obscure, unfinished masterpiece.” — Vladimir Nabokov

2011-10-11T01:13:00.000-07:00

Oh, Nabokov.

"...a series of footnotes..."

I rather like that. We are just gathering copy, collecting data, weighing the connections between one discovery and the one made in our research a while back. Say, oh, last year. We make the footnotes, we write upon our existence and we write upon each other. All this language, once written, can be rewritten: scratched out, demolished, and begun anew.

There are some footnotes you write in bold ink, and then highlight.

On This Day In 2006

2011-10-09T08:00:00.000-07:00

Here is my blog entry of October 9th, 2006. It is always so awesome to look back at particular moments in my struggle with depression, which began in about 1993 and peaked in the years 2000-2003, after which I entered the gradual process of shedding/overcoming/releasing my depression. This process gained momentum when I moved to NYC. That move and my time in that wonderful city was a four-year chrysalis from which I emerged, strong and certain of my forward momentum. I no longer identify with depression. Sure, I have the occasional grey day, or pockets of mood, but those are just individual moments. Now I identify with "yes" and positive expression. It's pretty fucking awesome. There have been loads of wonderful people who impacted my journey out of depression, and I am tremendously grateful for their presence on this planet and in my life. So here ya go, a little trip backwards in time to 5 years ago today.
________________________________________________________________
OCTOBER 9th, 2006

The definition of "Depress," as it reads in the American Heritage Dictionary:

de·press (d-prs) tr.v. de·pressed, de·press·ing, de·press·es
1. To lower in spirits; deject.
2. i. To cause to drop or sink; lower: The drought depressed the water level in the reservoirs. ii. To press down: Depress the space bar on a typewriter.
3. To lessen the activity or force of; weaken: feared that rising inflation would further depress the economy.
4. To lower prices in (a financial market).
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When I am depressed, it feels like I am being "pressed down," like an unseen force is pressing down upon me, sapping me of strength and causing me to be unable to rise up--to not be "pressed down." I am far more antisocial and much less talkative and more irritable during these times, because I can only ultimately name the source of the depression as being within, and then I feel MORE helpless because I do not know how to fight myself.

Thankfully, Andrew and I had a nice long talk about this on Sunday---which began as me thinking I might break up with him and ended with us still being together---that helped me snap some things into perspective. A little tough love does me good. Not to mention (and this isn't inspired by any suggestions of Andrew's, this is actually something I worked out on my own) that maybe it's time to get a little psychotherapy and perhaps look into a mild anti-depressant/anxiety reliever.

Welcome to New York?

Asshole referrer spam assholes.

2011-10-08T20:15:00.000-07:00

So, with Blogger, you can track your pageviews, which is all well and good. There's even a handy feature which lets you know which referrer sites are generating pageviews (sites which link to your posts). For instance, my posts mostly autofeed to my Tumblr, so when someone clicks through from Tumblr, my tumblr page shows up as a referrer. Well, I keep noticing strange referrers, and the most recent one is pu.gg -- I thought I'd just do a quick Google search: "What is 'pu.gg'?" Sure enough, it's spam. Here's some helpful info from the Blogger help forum about these referrer spams:

Posted by Dirtycowgirl:

"Hi, it's referrer spam.

I've seen this site in mine too.

"Designed to appear in your stats so that you then go and visit their site.

It does your blog no harm, just gives you a pageview - ignore it and wait for googles spam bots to pick it up. They always do.

"FYI if you see a site you don't recognise or trust in your stats best advice is don't click it, although it does at least mean that the search engines have crawled and indexed your blog."

To Mike and Kevin

2011-10-08T02:22:00.001-07:00

To my own MK (47).

I miss you guys.

TONS.

I miss you guys tons.

I miss the work and the rehearsals and the performances, sure—sure I miss those parts of our friendship. But what I really miss is just being around you guys.

Fucking Facebook. Today it linked me to one of the pictures from that awesome Labor Day in Jersey (I think it was Labor Day? The day with the volleyball tournament.)

Well, that day was honestly one of my favorite days out of any friendship I’ve ever had—it is equal to the day after Mona’s wedding (that Haas and I went to) where I tagged along with you two to Jersey to watch you play tennis and then to get food-coma-ed on China Buffett.

I want you guys to come out here to Cali so badly. I want to show you my cool house that I rent, and my high school, and my college, and I want you guys to see me in a play. And I really, really, really want to do a play with you guys. I think about that a lot. I just think that we play off of each other's strengths so well, and there’s lots of scripts that would suit our dynamic. That’s something on my personal “bucket list.” DO A PLAY WITH MIKE AND KEVIN.

I can’t believe you and Marianne already have two gorgeous little girls, Mike. Even more so, I can’t believe I haven’t met Gianna. I feel like I know her, from Facebook and Mary’s blog and from pictures, but I’ve never even heard her laugh or cry. And Lina is getting so big. She’s a whole person now and it makes me sad that I wasn’t in NYC to be around to watch her grow up. (And Kevin and Meaghan have that awesome lil’ dog, whom I’m also excited to meet.)

Yep. I miss you guys. I’ll be out there again, briefly, from Jan 28 – Feb 2. I’m going to be auditioning for graduate programs in Acting. Honestly, I hope I get into an East Coast school. I miss that side of the world, the people in it, and the culture surrounding it.

Love you guys – love you guys so so so so much!

Pass the love on to your little families and the like.

Butterbeer Latte Kind of Night.

2011-10-06T20:49:00.001-07:00

If you haven't seen the awesome butterbeer latte recipe that's been making the rounds (or even if you have), let me direct you to the post that started it all, Molly Hayden Rogers' very own recipe. (I hope this link works...blogging via mobile can be tricky.)

I bought butter (ok, not "butter," it's Heart Smart Light Spread w/ flax) for the 1st time in months just so I could try it.

And it.

Is.

SCRUMPTULESCENT.

Today's Groupon...

2011-10-06T07:39:00.001-07:00

...is $40 for a $100 colonic treatment. Yesterday's was a dinner for two offer for a Thai restaurant.

I don't think that bodes well for the restaurant.

Seeing Beirut in just a coupla' hours!

2011-10-04T17:15:00.000-07:00

These two lovebirds are going to see Beirut live at the Greek Theatre in Los Angeles tonight. Our first concert together--and our favorite band, to boot? WONDERFUL! Thank you D, for the tickets (and for being the love of my life).

Storytelling.

2011-10-04T01:17:00.001-07:00

Telling a story--orally recounting events which have a beginning, middle, and end--often proves difficult to me. I tend to digress, to veer, to start to make other connections. What once was a straight line from point A to point B becomes as elaborate a mental topography as those Family Circus panels, where we'd follow the weaving, zigzagged dashed lines of Billy's journey to the store. I begin at point A and wander away, crossing back only to find I'm spinning the opposite way before finally regaining the initial trajectory and finding myself at point B.

Sometimes, I never do get back on track to point B. And so it remains out there in the ether of lost thoughts. Waiting.

Process over product. This is something I keep finding myself aiming at in the past two assignments written for my "History and Research Methods in Rhetoric and Composition" course. The notion of process--HOW we write, how we compose text (whether it is written or spoken text)--versus the notion of product--the text itself, the work of literature or the speech. I find process to be infinitely more intriguing that product. This is true for me in virtually all fields, not just rhet/comp.

I think this preference given to process is what gets me lost on my way to point B so often.

Ancient History.

2011-10-03T16:05:00.001-07:00

If, for any reason, you want a glimpse into the inner-workings of my public psyche pre-2007, feel free to check out THIS OLD BLOG RIGHT HERE. I think I'll occasionally revisit it myself and post some "on this day in 200X" posts. Just for funsies.

I agree, Mr. X.

2011-10-03T16:02:00.000-07:00

This is a small fraction of the reason of why I don't read newspapers. I so often distrust them, regardless of the particular newspaper, or author's political situation. THEY'RE ALL TRYING TO MAKE US FIGHT ONE ANOTHER SO WE WILL BUY THEIR STUFF INSTEAD OF SOMEONE ELSE'S.

EVERYONE.

ALL OF THEM.

.....even you...

Happy Anniversary to these two.

2011-10-03T10:00:00.000-07:00

Happy 19th Anniversary to the President and the First Lady, Barack and Michelle Obama. You guys do this whole "being in love" thing right.

Air Conditioning.

2011-09-24T19:41:00.001-07:00

For no real reason, I get a little grossed out by how often my neighbor uses his air conditioning. There is the nicest breeze right now and it's only 73° out. Open your windows, man! Let the outside in!

New smile for Tae Hoon!

2011-09-21T19:38:00.001-07:00

A new smile for Tae Hoon! The old one had an invalid link :(

Morning, 9.21.11

2011-09-21T11:27:00.000-07:00

I'll tell you the story of this morning now, while it is still fairly fresh:

This morning I was walking to the busstop and I passed a crazy person. He was a man in his mid-to-late 50's, wearing denim overalls. As I got closer to him, I realized he was talking to himself. Passing him, I heard him say "God bless America. God bless Donald Trump. God bless Tiger Woods. They know how to get their shit." At this point, I said quietly, "God bless crazy people." I am not sure if he heard this, or was responding to it, but as the distance between us slowly widened, he raised his voice to make sure I heard all he said--and it began to seem directed at me, instead of just into the space. "God bless 'em. God bless the lesbians, they like to lay down with 14 year old girls. God bless the Bay Area, they let the perverts walk the streets. God bless the Bay Area, full of queers..." On and on, relentlessly, as the distance increased. At one point, I thought I'd lost him. I wanted to cry. I was exhausted physically/mentally, and this barrage of text was exhausting me emotionally/spiritually. I breathed. I focused on the blue of the sky. I did not cry.

At the crosswalk just before the transit center, waiting for the light to change, I felt a person inches from my left shoulder, and heard a woman's voice say, "It's your hair." I turned and saw a vagrant woman, shorter than me by a few inches, eyes aligned with mine. She said "I thought you had bruises on your neck, but it was just your curls." I put my hand on her shoulder and said "I won't let anyone bruise me." We smiled at each other. The light changed, the group of us waiting crossed. Peripherally, I noticed the overalls man. He was momentarily silent, it seemed, but as the group crossed, he started in on his litany again.

But this time, I couldn't really hear it, and it wasn't touching me. That woman's concern -- thinking that I may have been bruised, and seemingly grateful that I was unharmed -- it protected me and helped me let go of his anger. It was never mine to take on in the first place. I got on the bus, knowing instinctively that he was going to get on as well, and so I sat next to a young female student, so that he could not sit next to me. Sure enough, overalls man got on the bus, still muttering his mixed blessings. I got my headphones in just before he sat in the seat behind me, and Beirut filled my ears, rather than his voice. When I got to my office, I discovered that beautiful "My Favorite Memory" video and this time I did cry -- but they were tears of gratitude and joy, not the tears of frustration and exhaustion I nearly cried earlier. I was at peace. Peace. It's a gift we get to give ourselves.

"Blogging."

2010-12-04T01:31:00.000-08:00

I used to blog a lot more.

I used to write down a lot more of my thoughts and feelings, turning the words over in my head like one turns a cherry stone over on one's tongue: finding the hard ridge in a moment of clarity, then returning to the smooth, round seed of it all.

I am going to take the step to delete my MySpace (long defunct) soon, but there is a blog up there that dates back . . . oh, to about 2004. Three jobs, four serious boyfriends, five apartments and hundreds of lifetimes ago. There was a lot of angst and questioning and probing and searching and luminous realization in those words, those words from 2004 until the last entry, which was made at the beginning of my relationship with Jack.

Now it's two years since that entry, and I am in yet another brave new world, in what is literally the best relationship of my life. I am stupefied at my constant state of happiness with Dave. And there's this constant gratefulness, which is truly grateful for the path that brought Dave and I together. Because if I had not met Jack when I did, at that intersection of our lives, when both he and I needed to have the comfort and security of one another -- if I had not met him then, then I would not have moved back to California. If I had not moved back to California, I would not have gone to Summer Arts. If I had not gone to Summer Arts, I wouldn't have learned that one can live every day in a state of emotional openness and self-awareness. And I wouldn't have met Dave.

Although

I think

We still would have met.

Somehow.

The synergy is just that strong.

The universe has been working towards our favor for so long that I cannot believe it was a random occurrence which brought our existences together.

And I think it was no coincidence that before leaving for Summer Arts, my relationship with Jack had found itself in a place of transition -- where drastic change would have had to have been made for that romantic relationship to begin to thrive again and once more be beneficial to both people. It hadn't been in that place, and we weren't actively working towards that place. We weren't being emotionally open or self-aware, we weren't really sharing life the way partners should. We were just sort of ambling along in the vicinity of one another. It was still comforting, but it had ceased to be nourishing. And each of us deserve more than that. He'll find that, I am sure, should he choose to remain open to that possibility -- that there is happiness and wholeness out there, just waiting for him to say yes to it.

So here it is, this place of "where are my words?" My words in the past, however eloquent, however inspiring/inspired - they have so often focused on or sprung from mine own seeds of distrust, discomfort, dis-ease, and doubt. My questioning one thing, defending another. Suddenly, I have less urge to find conflict. I love bliss so much that I find no need to give it up, even if it would mean a couple deeply articulated thoughts.

Thanksgiving, For Dave.

2010-11-21T11:23:00.000-08:00

Waking up every morning.
Being excited to hear your voice.
Looking forward to seeing your face.

The food I eat is more enjoyable.
Working out is more fun, more productive.

I dance spontaneously more often.
I smile all the time, bigger than ever before.

Even missing you is enjoyable. It makes the time so deliciously precious.
Then, when I see you, it's a brand new experience. Your face newly captivates me each time.
Your warmth and presence ever-enticing.
Your wonderful physicality, the skin on your neck, the curve of your arm, the way our limbs fit so nicely together.
All of this gets to be brand-new for the wanting of it.
And the having of it.

My world, already amazing and full of wonderment, expanded tenfold when you and I intersected.

I am ever grateful for this love.

2010-10-31T11:07:00.000-07:00

2 a.m.

The corner of West 4th and Perry.

It rained yesterday,

The sky tonight is clear.

If I were to turn off the lights of the city

I could look up and see

Another city mirrored in the sky.

Its flickering pinpoints of light

Dead now these millions of years.

The past in the present.

Did you know...

2010-10-21T11:24:00.001-07:00

...that I have a Tumblr?

It is very fun. It's a little over a year old, so there's lots to explore!

http://laurajdt.tumblr.com