The Secret Dancer

Hi, it’s Lauren. You know the giggler, dreamer and constant doodler. You come here to read about my zany adventures and mishaps of adulthood? Yeah, it’s that Lauren.

It’s Friday and I’m creating a landscape rendering at work. Where my computer is busy making pixels into magic… I’m just waiting about ready to make that picture look better. But in the meantime that doesn’t mean I can’t take sometime to open my Sketchbook of My Secrets (What my coworker the Dab calls it) and share some good times with everyone.

Now I’ve been fluctuating about my nervousness about things changing and my incredible joy for all the good things that are in my future. Not only is it frustrating to read about, it’s worse living it. Like for example in one day I can go from a morning of  sunshine and lollipops, to an afternoon on the Noah’s arc of my tears, back to an evening of happiness/concern for crying about something stupid. For example, yesterday I cried watching John Krasinksi act in emotional scenes, because he seems like such a nice guy. On the other hand I get so incredibly happy when I see mustaches in 50 cent machines, that I could hug strangers. I would like to say this makes me a charming mess, but no matter what is going on I never want to stay down for long. So I don’t, that brings us to today’s shiny new doodle:

And this is the song that I’m dancing to:

Have a wonderful weekend. And Amber be careful with the dry ice… it can be spooky dangerous.


5 thoughts on “The Secret Dancer

    1. Click clackity! Ooooh, I really want to be one now. If I were a Spanish dancer… I could dance about the whole world, even exotic Portland. I would have scads of serious Spanish dancing fans. They would cheer my name and show up with handmade posters with clippings from the latest dance magazines.

      My imagination has danced away…

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