Laurie - ProfilesArchive

About Me

I grew up in a lovely city called atlanta, but I'm on the move now. I'm in school at Michigan, just got back from London, and I'm living in NYC. I love talking to all types, getting their stories, and writing them down. I enjoy good music, interesting people, and awkward situations (together?). One of the most amazing things about moving around all the time is getting to know people from all walks of life. The best part is realizing how much you can have in common with someone who's completely different than you. I'm a lefty with horrible handwriting. I'm messy. I want to be a writer, a journalist, and I'd eventually like to write a book. I'm always on the move, love to roam around at all hours, and I believe it's the random encounters and chance friendships that make life worthwhile. I have a somewhat addictive personality, and I'm the type to listen to a song on repeat until I never want to hear it again. Some day I'd like to have my own column where I can comment on just about anything. I saw this guy walking down the street with the Bob Dylan quote, "leave your stepping stones behind" tattooed on his arm. I think that's a pretty decent way to live.

My Interests

Writing, London parks, talking to all types of people, foosball, braves games, hot chocolate, warm weather, theater, oddly shaped clouds, Joan Didion, birthday cake ice cream, the tic tac toe playing chicken in china town (RIP), singing, roaming, good music, HANDS, coconut coffee, the color blue, sometimes the color red, personalized phone rings, the zoo, tall buildings, taller trees, connecting, awkward moments, cadbury bunny eggs

I'd like to meet:

Joan Didion, my Grandpa (now that I'm older), , Thomas Friedman, Anderson Cooper

Music:

too many types to name. Everything from classic to alternative rock...the list goes on and on. I like piano. I like harmonica. when they all coincide it's pretty sweet.

Movies:

E.T.

Television:

Twin Peaks

Books:

Lucky, Pride and Prejudice, Sammy's Hill, Letters To A Young Poet, Joan Didion essays (Where the Kissing Never Stops and Goodbye To All That)

Heroes:

mom

My Blog

Paris

I'm sitting in the cab, on my way into Paris...The cab driver speaks in broken english. I know no French. We do out best to have a conversation. I am from the states, living in London. He lives in the...
Posted by Laurie on Wed, 25 Jul 2007 09:14:00 PST

back in nyc

And so it was late and the trees were stone. The leaves were glass and full of bright lights because in this forest we don't sleep. They ran around the paths paved in cement and yellow creatures growl...
Posted by Laurie on Mon, 16 Jul 2007 07:37:00 PST

A wedding

Atlanta. 73 degrees. Unusually hot for a November day. We drive to Devonshire lane. This is gonna be dysfunctional is say to my brother. Dad calls. I..ll be there in a minute. I hang up. That was the...
Posted by Laurie on Sat, 25 Nov 2006 06:54:00 PST

Just a Thought

Every letter builds a word. Every word will eventually find itself a part of a sentence, every sentence floating around the atmosphere grabs thoughts and allows them to leave the abstract. And with th...
Posted by Laurie on Tue, 25 Jul 2006 10:31:00 PST

A Toast

A toast to divorce, and one to sadness, one for correctional boarding school and one for madness Heres to nights of darkness and rain, and that feeling that the whole world is insane ...
Posted by Laurie on Mon, 02 Jan 2006 09:38:00 PST

Clarity

I sat across from him, looking into someone so far from reality, he could write a book on the view. I cursed myself for forgetting how disillusioned he was, how immature and sad the man sitting in fro...
Posted by Laurie on Mon, 19 Dec 2005 12:19:00 PST

A leg and a half

My grandma died. It was 6am, and I was flying back to Atlanta for the funeral. I was randomly selected for search. After receiving a pat down by a security guard, I stumbled onto the plane, figuring...
Posted by Laurie on Wed, 23 Nov 2005 11:24:00 PST

On risk

His Hands Grey veins, latitude and longitude of his hockey hands. Silence, he fidgets when no one looks- left pinky, crooked, northwest of Rocky Mountain knuckles worn smooth by walls, doors, an...
Posted by Laurie on Sun, 20 Nov 2005 10:25:00 PST

On New York City

New York City. I can't quite take it all in. It's a place unlike anywhere I've ever lived. A walk on MacDougal Street is a walk through dozens of cultures, languages, hair colors, and piercings. There...
Posted by Laurie on Sun, 20 Nov 2005 06:21:00 PST