shout outs.

Maybe there's something I've forgotten to clarify in my 1.5 years of regular blogging:

I became very isolated and lonely when I was married. As much as I naturally love to talk, most of my thoughts never reached my lips because my life had become something I had to hide from everyone.

The happiest and most glorious moment of my life was when I was driving away from my marriage. I humored so many thoughts of reconnecting with others. I imagined myself being Whitney's roommate. I imagined sitting for hours speaking with my mother. It felt like I was flying.

I called this blog socialexplosion because I'd been pent up and held back for so long that the inertia of my desire to socialize felt like a breaking dam or a bomb.

There are a few people in particular who withstood the power of my social force with love, patience, and strength:

The first is my mother. She received me with open arms and fulfilled all of the dreams I carried of reconnecting with her. I am late to school most mornings but it is not because I am dawdling. I am talking with her. It's a routine I just can't give up. I tell her all about my life as she's preparing my lunch and we always get a bit carried away. There's a lot of love in the mornings at our house.

The second is Whitney. Whitney guided me back into the world of singles with grace and confidence. I needed her and she knew it. I've never had a happier summer than the one I spent with Whitney.

The third is Mike Alger. I met Mike at midnight at an ihop for a Kohler's co-worker gathering that Whitney took me to. He said he was interested in film so I whipped out my foreign film knowledge. Mike doesn't even watch foreign films. But he listened and listened and somehow we exchanged numbers. He's been listening graciously ever since.

The last and certainly not least are my siblings. Although most of them don't live around here, their gestures of forgiveness and love have been some of the most tender. There's been Spanish help at midnight, long letters illustrated with cartoons, nail-painting, long phone calls, and g-chatting from the middle-east in a war zone about my latest dating news. My siblings fortify and lift me.

intense.

Yes. I am an intense person. I am remembering more and more what I meant when I first verbalized it that way so many years ago. I tried to talk myself out of this fact in an earlier blog entry, but it remains true. Being intense does not mean that I am merely deliberate or calculating. It means that I am intense regarding everything I am interested in. In some ways, I think it's a good quality.

For example, I think I've become a skilled seamstress entirely due to my intense nature. It was my dream to be able to design anything I wanted and have the skills to see it materialize. It was my dream to have a "This I Believe" essay published, and I worked as hard as I could for long hours to make it happen. I think with almost everything I'm good at, it's not so much that I'm full of natural ability, but that I get intensely interested.

But of course, above all, my most favorite thing is people; and my most favorite activity is communication. Lately, all kinds of communication. Email, chatting, phone; of course face to face is my favorite.
The only thing that distracts me from all of my other intense interests is people, and especially people that I adore.

Everyone who knows me knows that I love my little brother, Michael, to the point that I'm doing well to finish speaking about the nature of our relationship with dry eyes.
Whitney's own sister once made a statement like, "to adore Whitney more than Laura would be unhealthy."
And anyone who knows me, knows that I absolutely adore Mike Alger. Not to mention Caleb, Meri, Magnus, Zina, the Vuissas. . . the list could go on and on, and I'm not even getting into the rest of my family members.

The only problem with my intense nature, is that I think it freaks some people out. Conversations with me can often turn into interview questions that can feel reminiscent of a therapy session.

Really, I'm okay with somewhat awkward social exchanges, but I am not okay with people feeling pressured. More than one person in my life has abruptly ended our friendship, because they can't take the love. I guess they think that my intense adoration means that I think we have to be best friends, or lovers, or something. Really, there are way too many people that I adore to make them all best friends or lovers.

I just love the people I love soooo much. That's all there is to it. I've often wished for a naturally indifferent personality, but it's just not gonna happen. Please don't get freaked out.

(how could you not love this guy?)

Me gusta recibir cartas.

Nothing makes my heart go pitter-pat like seeing this in my mailbox:
An excerpt from the contents:

Do you longboard around campus? That would be so great and cool. I can see you with a nice long skirt and huge backpack carving around kids. Then they'd be like, "oooooo, a cutie that longboards. . . interesting. . . , " you know?

Ope! gotta go!

Elder Barlow


Maybe I won't tell him that longboards aren't allowed on BYU campus.

I think if I remarry, the prospective fiance will have to ask Michael for permission. My dad will be satisfied as long they are a temple-worthy priesthood holder, college graduate, and employed. Michael will scrutinize them to see if he thinks they are really cool enough for me.