Everything was Beautiful and Nothing Hurt:

Happy Valentine's Day!

2012-02-14T13:52:00.001-05:00

Slow Days. They are Super.

2012-02-13T09:39:00.003-05:00

Sorry to be documenting my life these days via pictures. But some days I find writing about myself more difficult then taking pictures. It's not that I don't have the words to put down on 'paper' but i get weary by the weight of my words. Especially because I am consumed with grief and longing and a desire to return to life post Marie's death. Especially because I am also, slowly, accepting the changes around me that have come with such as great loss.

Surprisingly, out of the pain and depression and sulky days, I'm becoming a young lady. I am finding my voice and desires and am blossoming to some form of potential I never knew i possessed. I'm finally getting use to my own skin and while it is a terrifying transition it feels long over due.

While internally i often feel fragile and a delicate and in between broken pieces and shards of glass, I continue, everyday, despite the apprehension and loneliness and fear and grief, to get up. I continue to find things that I love and I work from there. Some days are harder than others. But I try.

Last Wednesday I had a mini breakdown because I realized my birthday is less than 3 weeks ago. I'll be 26 years old and Marie and I planned our countdown to the year of Awesome to commence on my birthday. I haven't spent one without her since I was 13 years old. I already know that when midnight strikes on March 1st I will miss her more than ever because she always sent a 'i was the first once to wish you a happy birthday' text.

My birthday use to be this thing Marie hyped me up about. She'd playfully talk about it on the phone like a child whose own birthday was just around the corner. She is no longer here to do this and the sulky part of me wishes that this year, anyway, that my birthday could just be another day on the calendar.

But so many of my work friends are aware that my birthday is around the corner. It may have something to do with Kat going around and telling everyone, but regardless, the attention has been a little overwhelming. I am not use to people remembering my birthday. I am not use to them wanting to take me out and wish me into another year. It makes me sad, happy too, but said.

Sean came up to me the other night and said 'so, what do you want me to get you for your birthday?'.

And I sort of stared at him like 'how do you know my birthday is coming up'. I mean yes, we are on good terms these days. I like him more than I should. The other night he drove a friend and I home as he does most nights. In the parking lot he took a minute to gather his book bag and groceries on the trunk of his car. I was sitting in the back, legs snuggled up again his sweatshirt and as I turned around to put my seat belt on I couldn't stop staring at his face through the glass. He was lost in the act of re-shuffling his items, off in his own head of this goes here, this goes there and I loved his face then. In a dumb schoolgirl way. I loved his face.

But we are still just work buddies. He does nice things for me occasionally. I listen to him intently. But he isn't mine. And maybe that's why when he brought up getting me something for my birthday I just starred at him with this incredulous look on my face. So he repeated the question again 'Beckett, seriously what do you want for your birthday?'

"I don't know. Surprise me. Make me something. I'm not use to having more than one person remember my birthday, so even, just saying Happy Birthday will be nice'

And that's sort of the truth when it comes to everyone. Just to have people remember that it's my special day will be nice. I'm not asking for much.

Outside of the birthday sadness, I'm doing okay. I'm working on crafts and listening to music and coloring mandalas in the morning. My mom recently bought me a sewing kit and maybe I'll learn to make something pretty. And as a pre-valentines day present to myself i book this awesome geekcraft book! There is a Buffy inspired craft inside that I am all too excited to begin. The busier I am, the better I feel. And I like creating things. I forgot how excited it is to start a project from scratch and finish it.

My days now revolve around getting up, drinking tea, reading books and dancing. Oh, and an occasional back seat photo shoot of my boots and leggings in my crushes car. I'm comfortable with this. I am making things comfortable out of the pain.

And I must admit that it ain't perfect and I'm sort of being selfish these days but i am terribly okay with that.

~Beckett

Different Version of Me.

2012-02-02T22:24:00.006-05:00

My body has finally had enough.

Whatever bug is going around these days has totally found me and i feel ickly. sickly. gross. ickly. sickly.

I made the mistake of going to the Bronx today (hair appointment) despite feeling like crap and I am paying the price. Because the weather has been spring like, i wore a very light jacket. No scarf. No gloves. No hat. Of course today it was freezing out. windy and cold. Now i feel worse than I did when i woke up.

I've been a little tense these last few weeks with everything that is going on with my life. I can't say I'm sleeping or eating well these days. Yesterday I may have only had a pop tart and soda. I simply go from feeling hungry all the time to 'did i eat...who forgets if they ate'. And on the sleep end, I'm getting little of it though i am always in bed. Last night was the first night I've actually managed to sleep with the lights off. The silence and darkness still terrify me (and there isn't a cute boy next to me to distract me) so i usually keep my TV on the Disney channel until i pass out.

My body is just exhausted and I think that is why I'm feeling under the weather.

The store has cut hours drastically and I am working two days next week. TWO! Luckily, or surprisingly, I'm doing okay with money (and may have a new job in the works!) so I look forward to my light week and sleeping /watching netflix and trying to get better next week in more ways than one I guess.

I've been feeling really conflicted by everything lately. On the bus/train/walk home I realized that in 4 weeks, I'll be turning 26. It'll be the first birthday without Marie, who made a point of always being the first to call me at midnight. I'll also be the same age that she was when she decided to end her life. This birthday will be weird. There is no way around it.

Since she died, everything i thought i wanted for my life at 25/26 has completely changed. What I want for myself and what I want from the people in my life has new meaning. It's weird. Occasionally I'll check the stat features on this blog and I find it very interesting that one of the most read entries is the one I wrote about turning 20 ('the perks of being 20' i called it). I wrote that post more five years ago and i still get comments on it. I only bring it up because at 20 i remember wanting to have everything figured out. I wanted to be this mature person who had relationships and goals in check.

Now the only thing I want is to be happy even though 'happy' is this new thing. I'm okay not having everything figured out. I'm okay trying to find what I'm passionate about. I'm happy spending my mornings sewing or dancing or singing loudly. The anxiety about 'myself' has lessened. But i worry, that now that the world and experiences I'm ready to be apart of have all but abandoned me. Especially since I've spent so much time shunning it.

Like when Sean made me that stupid vampire stake (am i just being a dumb stupid school girl or was his gesture as sweet as i think it is? Because I'm smitten by the whole gift to be honest), which I have since kept on my desk and stared at from afar in awe and confusion...I thought in my romantic state 'I'd like to date a thoughtful boy like that(who was, um, single). I'd like to be in a relationship where i could be strange and unusual. I'd like to be loved and understood by someone who would make me a vampire stake because he had the resources too'.

But i fear that I'll never feel like I deserve those things. Even now, I feel stupid for liking the gift so much because, often, i feel like a girl like me doesn't deserve it. Marie's death has felt like a rejection of my (our) weirdness ever being anything someone could love and endure. This is what makes me angry at her for killing herself. Sure the pain and grief are unbearable. Sure there are days when I am completely blindsided by the fact that she isn't here. But mainly I'm upset because my better half's death is like a rejection of how proud I thought we were to be different and complicated and unique.

Because I was (am) finally coming around to my strangeness. and introversion. and complications. And I was (am) finally starting to be okay with that. But i don't know how to allow people into my world especially since the one and main person who occupied it is no longer here. She was my champion of weird. We'd talk for hours about how frustrating it was to be outsiders but how we were going to prove to ourselves that our version of life was more interesting.

But with her suicide I suddenly have to learn how to be okay with my strange ways alone and try to find people to relate too while also learning to accept the people who love me just as I am.

My version of happiness, these days, is rooted in my attempt to feel worthy of the good that comes into my life. To know that i can make my vision of my future this tangible and maybe lovely thing. That I can have a career all my own that i enjoy. I can have boy all my own whose hair I can ruffle. I can have friends who enjoy playing scrabble and reading nerdy books. I can have all these things, i tell myself everyday. I can. Because i want them more than anything else. But it doesn't mean that i am not anxious about my sudden desire (and need) to create something out the hole that she's left. Not because I want to fill her space but because I don't have a choice but to.

I'm different. That's a fact. The changes stare back at me from the mirror. It's me you see, same eyes and nose and mouth, but altered in some way that i just can't pinpoint. And if i could make peace with the girl I've was then in order to grasp this girl I'm becoming, I'd feel less torn by everything. And less exhausted.

But alas, that's where the tension and conflict arise.

Simple Pleasures.

2012-01-30T20:19:00.009-05:00

I am trying to be okay again. I am trying to be okay with needing to be okay again. That is my life these days.

Last week Marie's mom and I sent a couple of text messages back and forth to see how the other is doing. She is sad. devastated. and struggling to cope with Marie's death. As I am. She said people at work are trying to help her through this but she wishes they would stop. As do I. She said she misses Marie every day. As do I.

I feel guilty for not actually 'talking' to her mother these last six weeks. I've wanted to. I've even tried several times (at the last minute deciding not to). Because while texting is a form of communication it is so impersonal and I know talking to her mom will help. But I'm not strong enough, at the moment, to speak. I'm not strong enough to hear my voice talk about Marie in past tense. It is hard enough talking about Marie to my mom. It is even harder trying to write about her. I can't imagine, at this moment, hearing her mother's voice or having to hear my own talk about how much I miss her.

Because, while I am getting 'better', I am still very angry and fucking pissed that Marie killed herself. Everything reminds me of her, and what she could have been, and what has been lost now that she's gone. I can be a very difficult person because of this. I am sometimes sullen. moody. and down-right livid.

I am angry at girls who can smile and laugh and have dumb conversations about things and still fit in (like *dumb stupid face co-worker who I loathe* who represents everything Marie and I felt made us strange) while my interesting complicated, stubborn best friend is gone. We were strange together. And unique together. And different together. And I am troubled by her loss because it feels like a rejection of the things we valued. And this is where I get so upset I want to smash things.

My bad days are fewer than my good but when they are bad they suck.

But I am trying to counter my negativity as much as I can. I've been supplementing the depression and grief with spontaneity and self discovery. I trying new things and re-evaluating what makes me happy . I am being selfish and self indulgent and concerned with creating something out of my grief. There was a time, when I thought I was suppose to have things all figured out by 25. I've all but erased that thought from my head. For the moment, I am not interested in that. For the moment i want to wear skirts and take drum lessons and be emotionally available to people. I want to get a tattoo and learn how to dance and take a trip somewhere really far away. I'm okay with just experiencing things.

And I'm not sure how long this pursuit for simple pleasures will last. I'm not sure when or if I'll feel the need to buckle down and go back to the job worrying and writing worrying and general life worrying. For now I just want to find things that make me happy and focus my energy on that.

It's not easy. By any means. But I don't have a choice. I just don't. So I'm sewing (i totally made those flags!) and taking pictures and heading to the city more often these days. I've decided to get a buffy tattoo for my birthday. Just the "B" on my wrist because Buffy represents strength and survival and kickassness.
I've also been 'hanging' out with people. Or trying to. When I'm up for up, I'm making myself available for the occasional outing and human interaction. I've had several diner dates with friends where french toast is usually consumed. And I've played awkward drunk scrabble games until 2am. Angie came up last weekend and we just drank raspberry beer and talked about our lives and Star Trek and ate a lot of food.
And last night Sean, another co-worker (Dylan) and I met at a mutual friends apartment so we could watch some Pay Per View wrestling match (royal rumble) that she has been talking about for weeks. I don't know much about wrestling but she said there would be pizza and drinks and cupcakes and naturally I was sold. And everyone i know seems to be into the campiness that is men, wearing little to no clothing, rolling around in a rink performing wrestling moves with weird names.

I've debated going to this thing for weeks now; mainly because Sean and I continue to have our ups and downs. We sometimes argue like friends, sometimes we argue like two people dating. Regardless I am often attracted and aggravated with him. But this week we've been on good terms and I was looking forward to hanging out with him outside of the bookstore.

And surprisingly we had a really good time. Some guy in really tight underwear won the Big Match and I ate a lot of pizza. Sean and I sat next to each other on the lovesick where i curled up in the corner and rested my feet on his legs (it was nice. wrong. but nice).

Sean was polite and funny and considerate the whole night and totally into the wrestling match. It felt nice to be around people so excited about dumb things. And every once in a while, just watching them (Dylan, Miranda, Sean), made me feel less sad and less strange and less lonely.

At the end of the night, Sean drove a very tipsy Dylan and I home (mike's lemonade is no joke). Before we entered Sean's car though Dylan noticed something in the back seat.

Underneath a jacket or shirt behind the passenger seat was a small wooden object that jutted out from the rest of the crap in his car. I couldn't see what Dylan was staring at but it definitely caught his attention.

"dude is that a fucking stake in your car?"

Now it's dark outside and really late and we are all sort of tired and Sean looks all sorts of adorable in this black leather jacket and his scruffy facial hair and suddenly he looks exasperated at the sound of Dylan's voice and stake inquiry.

"just get in the car" he says, trying to unlock the car so he can open the doors for the rest of us.

"dude, you totally have a stake in your car"

So now I'm all interested and peering into the car and i too see the wooden stake peeking out but am not putting two and two together, even tho Sean is visibly pissed at Dylan for bringing it up.

"You're such an asshole man, I was going to wait until later and surprise her....thanks".

The motherfucker made me a vampire stake.

My very own vampire stake.

Holy Crap!

Sure it's dumb and silly and not practical but it's mine. and he made it for me though he didn't have to. And i love it. Absolutely love it.

And like my life these days, the stake and the diner's and the scrabble games and human interaction are things that I suddenly need to be a part of because i want to be a part of them. I need, more than ever, very subtle, simple, uncomplicated pleasures to keep me going. I need them to remind me that in some weird way the life that i am creating for myself can still have value and meaning and be lovely through the pain and loss.

Tomorrow A Real Post.....

2012-01-27T22:05:00.003-05:00

.... I promise.

I've been away: mentally, emotionally and physically. but i'm okay. and alive. and watching a lot of Vampire Diaries on Netflix these days. which is where i found this song. i can't stop listening to it. it's sort of my life in a nutshell these days.

but i am getting better. i sort of had a breakdown yesterday (again) but for the most part i am holding up well. i'd write more if i weren't so tired but spending the day at work not helping customers and talking to my co-workers is a hard job. tomorrow tho, i promise. a real post. a real update.

~Beckett

How to be a Alive.

2012-01-13T10:24:00.004-05:00

The days are sort of flying by and I do not know how i feel about this.

Life, for the most part, is returning to normal. I am no longer whispered about at job ('what's wrong with Beckett'), my grief and sadness, have been replaced by every one's sense of personal disappointment, agitation or own personal going- ons. It's sort of like the last few weeks have been brushed under some invisible carpet. The people around me know that something is array, that i am different, a little more jaded, angry and distant but they do not bring it up for fear of revealing the mess underneath my facade.

Outside of Saturday when i sort of allowed myself to be sad in front of Sean (even if he couldn't feel me crying against him), I have closed myself off emotionally from letting people into my head. It's my safety net. I have always felt responsible for other people's comfort. I am better at listening and consoling and healing others than I am at addressing my own issues. It's the very avoidance part of my personality I am not proud of. I don't like dealing with personal issues straight on. I don't know how to be the person needing to talk and/or helped.

I talked about this in therapy once or twice. There was this one week when I felt sad, soon after my dad had a heart attack, and I was reluctant to tell my therapist about what was going on. During our whole session i was vague and less willing to talk about what i was feeling. When I finally got around to revealing how distraught I was over his hospitalization (followed by crying hysterically) we talked about my unwillingness to let people console me during times of stress. That it is normal to confide in people and be open about my issues to those willing (and wanting) to help. That shutting off isn't healthy. And while I know all of this, my hesitation to do so in the past and now more than ever, has a lot to do with me not wanting to burden people with my own pain.

I want to talk about Marie. I want to be honest and open about our relationship and what it feels like now that she is gone. I want to talk about the depression and the anxiety and the longing I have to be the girl I was before she died. I can't sleep with the lights off anymore. The silence and darkness terrify me. I'm eating a lot these days but losing weight like a parasite is coursing through my body. I'm more aggressive and cranky. Short tempered and unforgiving. And because i am unwilling to be emotionally available to people I've sort of been seeking comfort out physically.

I'm not whoring it out of course; but the truth is, if I would have had the 'experience' prior to her death, I'm not sure how healthy my relationship/boundaries with men would be (fuck, i hate admitting that). I feel so disconnected lately. From everything and everyone. While there was a time a few weeks ago where having anyone touch me caused severe stomach aches, it's been different these days. I crave intimacy because i feel it will distract me. Or remind me what it feels like to be a person and to be wanted. It has little to do with sex but more to do with that jolt of connection i need to remind myself that I exist even if for a moment.

And I have not acted on this. I would never act on this. But it's a part of the burden and mystery of my grief that I am not able to explain to people. How I've gone from being this girl before my best friend killed herself to the girl i am now. Because they are two different people (the was and am). There is no way around it. Everything i ever thought about love, life, happiness and my own depression have been altered by this experience and I don't even have anyone to talk to this about. And the few people in my everyday life who have offered comfort have no idea how to help me.

Kat tries. She's stepping up in the friend department. She is understanding and forgiving of my sullen ways. She invites me to do things and lets me talk about Marie when i want. But I don't want to crowd her life. She has friends from way back when and doesn't need me being clingy because I don't have many. Sean tries. But there isn't anything more he can do than embrace me. And be there if and when I decide to actually come to him. He asks if I'm okay when he sees me drifting away. He is present and all consuming. I like the idea of his strength. That he wants so badly to fix things. That he is frustrated by his inability to do so. But he has a girlfriend. He has a way of life. And despite our weird attraction and attachment to one another he has someone to take care of that isn't me.

I am suddenly faced with the real task of building relationships with people. Real healthy solid ones, because I know I would find great comfort in them. But I am a complicated girl these days and that seems a hard task to take on (though I'm trying). I am getting better however. I know that i won't be blue my whole life. And I know that I'll be able, maybe, one day to make peace with her death. But it isn't easy. Everything reminds me of her. I sit down to write and i realize I use to talk to her about my story ideas. I laugh and suddenly miss the sound of hers. I feel guilty for having to go on and smile and try to connect with people. There was a time where just having her as my friend was enough. I didn't care that I didn't have many other people to go to. I didn't care that I lacked a boyfriend or at least a warm body to fold into. She was my home. She was my comfort.

And i feel widowed by her loss because we were deeply connected due to our strangeness. I loved and some days hated her. She was my best friend and sometimes worst enemy but she was my mine; however complicated that friendship was. I have not been the easiest girl to handle lately. The sadness comes and goes so quickly that some days it is hard to breathe. But i am trying to rebuild my life now that she's gone. I am making plans and forming relationships (that are healthy and stable). I have a drunk scrabble tournament to attend tomorrow night (it's scrabble and drinking!) with co-workers. Angie (memba' her) is coming up from DC next week so we can hang out in the city all weekend. And Kat and I are going to Brooklyn in two weeks to watch an indie movie and stare at art.

My life continues to go on. Sometimes the grief stops me cold and I am consumed with fear and anxiety but i continue to get up and breathe and live. I continue to try and function like a real human being with hopes and dreams and desires,because one day, hopefully soon, I can feel like one again before life became so strange.

~Beckett

Oh noes!

2012-01-07T22:41:00.002-05:00

I may have seriously almost kissed Sean tonight. Or at least wanted to. Or at least had the opportunity to and almost (almost) allowed myself to take advantage of the moment.

Grief has made me a strange girl. I am parts distant and aloof and unwilling to let anyone into my world of sadness and loneliness. This is of course is the very internal side of my life these days. I cry on the way home, I try to keep thoughts about Marie at bay in public, and I worry a lot about the future. I am struggling to understand what my life will look like now that she is gone. I spent most of my day off Thursday crying because I felt guilty for being happy. "James Franco" made me a book ( a honest to god book with a spine and graph paper and a fabric cover) because he wanted me to have a book that I could write my thoughts down in.

And it made me happy, that out of everyone he decided to make me (and kat) a gift. And my gift was a reflection of what he knows about me. And i felt happy, generally happy because he didn't have to make me anything. Why did he make me anything? But for some reason soon after he gave me the gift, I felt guilty and sad because I don't know when it will feel right to be happy about things. I mean sure, i laugh and smile and make jokes, but when will it okay to accept the good in my life, despite this tragedy.

That's what my days are like these days. I am returning back to normal on my terms but the life i new before her death and the one I am leading now are conflicted and struggling to make sense together. In order to handle Marie's death I've been sort of distancing myself from the anxious, self doubting, over-thinking girl who represented that half of our friendship. Marie was such an huge component of my life. I went to her for everything. I rarely made a decision without going to her for approval. And now that she's gone, it feels like I kind of have to figure things out by myself.

And instead of being scared about change, I've sort of been jumping at the opportunity to try new things because it distracts me from my grief. It still has a hold on me but i feel in control of it when I do something the 'me' before her death would have strayed away from. I've been wearing skirts to work and being more assertive about my opinions. I am initiating conversations and going with the flow. I am even being a little more impulsive too, like going in for a tattoo pricing to see how much a Buffy tattoo will cost (it's a small, final girl: the one who survives the scary movie, tribute I'm getting ) Yeah. More about that later.

And everyone around me is taking note of this 'new' beckett. "You look/sound/are so different these days" my friends and mom have commented on and they would be right. There will always be the 'me' that was before Marie died and the 'me' that is coming into her own now that out of the two peas in a pod i am the only one that remains. And I don't know how i feel about this. I feel like this 'new' me that everyone is taking note of is compensating for this loss. I am trying to figure out who I am now that my other half is gone and I am bound to make a few mistakes and/or bad decisions along the way.

Today might have been one of those bad decisions that I will learn from.

Sean and I have been a terrible mess of arguing, not arguing, 'I want to confide in you', 'you can't help me at all' friends lately. While I only see him a couple of days a week, I have taken my grief out on him a lot more than others because I sort of feel like he can handle it. Part of it has to do with his physicality. He's a well built, strong, masculine guy who makes a point of being macho around me. His job consists of building and breaking down things, lifting and carrying shit. Fixing and putting together objects. And because i am an emotional wreck lately I have a tendency of equating his ability to fix broken things to my own current state.

So i test him. I have in the last few weeks put him through the ringer. I can be cold and distant one moment and then desperately wanting to tell him how I am really feeling . And he's been a champ about it. I mean as much as he can towards a girl who is not his girlfriend. As long as I tell him how I am doing the moment we see each other he is receptive to my feelings. He doesn't push me to talk about anything I don't want to and while he isn't good at dealing with my sadness when I do come to him, he makes sure to let everyone else around me know that I am not in the mood.

And this new, weird relationship that we have is very confusing. Because I am not sure if I am acting out in regards to my attraction to Sean because I'm in this sad place or if it's because i generally like him and trust him and he's been very patient with me these last few weeks. And I know that he has a girlfriend, so i try with all my might to be a platonic as possible despite my actual feelings for him.

Today was going to be one of my cold/distant days towards him. Our newish store manager was being a dick the whole day and I had the 'pleasure' of putting up 12 new shelves in the kids department because it's a part of a large project that I'm sort of in charge of. Five hours of hearing new managers mouth and dragging shelves from the back, taking down old ones, and then putting up new ones put me in a very cranky mood. I was dirty and sweaty and ready to go home when I bumped into Sean as I was putting the measuring tape back into the managers office. I grumbled 'hello' when i saw that he was clocking in but walked out when he called after me because i didn't want to be pulled in for a 'minute to long' hug. I just wanted to clock out and go home.

But he said my name again and when I turned around to deny him a hug, i knew immediately that something was wrong. His face was all red and he could barely look at me and he kept ushering me over with his hang (our hug motion). And when I finally came over he buried my face in his chest and I could feel his heart beating so fast. I kept asking what's wrong but he wouldn't say anything and because we were standing in front of co-workers I dragged him into the hallway, away from them, so he would tell me.

When we pulled away, he was barely holding back the tears. Long story short, he is having a lot of issues with his family (mainly his dad) and they(dad and him) almost came to blows today. He was pacing the hallway between the break room and the backroom (where only employees are allowed) as he struggled to get the words out, so i suggested we go into hallway leading to receiving where no one could see us.

And the moment we are out of sight from managers or customers he can't hold back how frustrated his is. I don't think I've ever seen a boy cry before. Not outside of family members. And I was a little taken aback because he's the strong one, you know. I'm just the sad girl, who doesn't open up to people, who feels alone and afraid now that her pod is gone.

And i can tell he's struggling to tell me what is going on. But he does, outside of trying to hold back his tears. And this is when I take a seat on some boxes nearby, and listen intently. And I don't know what to do because i can't fix it or him or me or life. So I let him cry, in his weird boy crying way. After a while, he goes from being sad to angry at his dad and i can tell he wants to now punch something or curse. And, I don't know if saying anything will make him feel better. Because words have not helped me these last few weeks.

So, in a very surprising move, I just wave him over. I tell him to come over to me. In between his cries (and growing anger) I just, put my hand out and tell him to come over so that i can hold him. It's all I can do because it feels right. And he does. He takes me hand, and he pulls me up from where I'm sitting and brings me into his chest and he cries, and he's shaking and he's apologizing because:

"you've, like, lost someone really important and everything I'm feeling like now pales in comparison. but I'm so fucking miserable"

So then I start shaking, and i let out a sigh (because this is the first time he has brought up what I've been going through without me mentioning it)that turns into a cry that i muffle back into a

'it's okay, I don't want you to think you can't come to me because of what I've been going through. I just kind of need you to be okay because i don't know how to make this better. And I'm scared and freaking out because I don't know if this is helping'

So then he tells me not to be scared and he's stroking me hair and I'm listening to his heartbeat and we remain like that for the next few minutes and when we finally pull away there is like this moment where....

...I wanted to be happy. And I wanted not be sad. I wanted him not to be sad. And I almost ignored reason and my own moral code so that we could connect.

But I didn't. Because I immediately felt guilty for whatever had just occurred. So I patted his stomach, and smiled awkwardly and told him everything was going to be okay and that we should probably get out of the hallway.

And we sort of left on that note. I told him to stay calm as to get through the night and he thanked me for listening. And then, naturally i cried on the way home because I don't understand who the hell I am anymore or what the hell I'm doing or why I've let myself become so attached to him. Or who I am now that grief is such a huge part of my life.

What the hell? This makes me a sort of bad person right? Shit.

Before I left, Sean halfheartedly said (after I told him if he needed anything he knew where to find me) that he wished he could come to my house later after work 'you know, just drive up at 1am in the morning, to talk, but that would be crazy right'. Yes! It would be crazy and stupid and kind of nice but stupid and crazy and dumb and impulsive. And I hate that i feel so impulsive these days. And I hate that I always told him too.

Ugh, I don't know what I'm doing. Everything feels so weird and strange. And I wish I had my best friend here to help me through the feelings I'm feeling and the sadness I don't know how to heal and the grief that is changing me into a person neither better or worse.... but different.

End Rant :/

Hanging in There.

2012-01-02T09:46:00.003-05:00

I haven't been able to post in a while.

Work, people, and general anxiety is all consuming lately.

I have a day off tomorrow and outside of grabbing lunch with Heather, I will finally be able to write again. I feel like I can only say what I want to say in words.

I am holding up okay but talking about my grief to other people is not an option. Which is sort of making it hard to get through this. I feel guilty for being sad around people, especially after being so mean and distant towards them the week after her death.

I was angry because I felt like no one understood what I was going through and their attempts at consoling me (pulling me in for hugs, telling me that I could come to them for anything) wasn't enough. Because the only thing that would fix the situation s impossible for anyone to do. So i sulked an pushed people away and unplugged for awhile.

And I guess for a while it made it easier because I can't stand the look on my friends faces when I tell them that Marie killed herself. It is a mix of pity and sorrow and a "i don't know how to react to that. imma leave you alone now". The other night Sean, who i profusely apologized to for yelling at, were talking about something or another and I made the mistake of saying 'the person i use to go to for all these life questions is no longer here. it's weird you know'. And for a split second he had no idea what I was talking about so he asked "who's that person....oh (he face then turned red)...I'm sorry, i should have put two and two together, I'm really sorry".

That's how i feel about everything lately. That my life( and grief) is this big open wound that people are a) trying to ignore because it'll bring them down too or b) that they are trying to mend in ways that aren't helping.

And I can't fault them. Most of them have never gone through anything like this. Hell up until three weeks ago neither had I. But I feel alone in trying to understand her life and death. In trying to put together the pieces of our friendship and why she thought this was the only option. I am coping, I am mending, I am putting one foot in front of the other.

But I am a different girl now, forever changed by her death. I'm resilent and strong though fragile and now timid about opening up to people. My opinions about life, love and friendship are all mixed up and I am struggling to understand why love alone isn't enough to cure depression. She was such a huge part of my life that having to plan my life without her is what often stops me in my tracks. Like a punch in the gut, I am out of breath when i realize there will being many moments when I accidently reach for the phone to call her only to remember she isn't here anymore.

This alone is where grief suddenly gets the best of me. I am consumed with sadness and anxiety because I've never considered life without her. There was never this idea in my head that at 25, ushering in the new year, I wouldn't be able to call her and talk about all the possible plans for our future...together. That Marie will only function as a memory now that I guard with my life.

And a Me without Her feels weird. It's doable. It's a reality that I have no other choice but to accept but it's weird, and strange and for a little while a lonely, lonely, lonely existence. Maybe talking to someone about this would help? I thought about going into therapy again but I just don't think I can afford it especially now that the store is cutting hours (as they always do after the holidays). But I've realized in the last few weeks that my friends here aren't equipped to deal with my grief in all it's entirety. Hell, no one is really. They can give hugs and attempt to make me smile and forgive me for being a bitch and dick some days. But what they can't do is help me understand what happens now to my life that my best friend is gone.

I don't think anyone but I can do that. I just don't know how to go about doing it.

Anyway, I got to work to soon. My mom bought me this really comfortable footed pajama's for Christmas and I must say I'd rather stay in bed wearing them all day instead of dealing with customers. But i only work till 7, 'James Franco look-a-like' made me a Christmas present, though he celebrates Hanukkah so maybe it's a late Hanukkah present i don't know, and tomorrow I have a day off. A much needed day off. So today won't be that bad.

I've also been decorating my room (a lot) lately and there is something comforting in making my living space a sanctuary. I finally got my writing/computer desk area together and am now attempting to build a reading nook/corner in my room. Being handy and crafty is my thing now. It's the one change i'm comfortable with this days. Pictures to come soon once i clean up the small solo new years eve party mess i made. Let's just say there was a lot of pizza, apple cider and singing cher loudly into the night...with tears have you. Now my room is gross and smells like leftovers. Ugh.

In Repair.

2011-12-22T20:44:00.004-05:00

I returned to work last Saturday (after calling put the day of Marie's memorial)and am now in the mist of holiday shoppers and the suckassness of retail during xmas.

To be honest work, even though i hate it, has been the distraction i need right now. Helping frantic customers, calming down mentally unstable employees and ignoring a certain boy I use to have a crush on, has helped keep my sadness at bay. I am holding up as best as I can after the loss of my best friend. I've had several mini breakdowns at work, gotten into a very regrettable screaming match with Sean (which I will re-tell in detail after Christmas) and wore a skirt the other day (the first time in years) because....I wanted a change.

I've been on auto-pilot these last few days. My emotions are sort of all over the place and to prevent a complete and utter breakdown I, for now, am putting on a very brave face. If you only knew how bad Saturday was, you would understand why this is necessary.

When I say I got into a screaming match with Sean, I really mean, that I was a total and utter bitch to him when he tried to console me about 'the death in my family'. When I walked in on Saturday, everyone knew that I called out because someone very important to me died. No one knew, knows, the extent of the loss but nonetheless I was the topic of much discussion that day. "something is wrong with beckett", "she's not the same" "I wonder what's wrong?"

And I sort of expected this. I am usually very bubbly, affectionate and talkative at work. But Saturday I spent most of the day withdrawn and off to the side. I was polite but distant and my face sort of wore the weight of my depression. A lot of people asked what was wrong and I answered 'i got some bad news from home, but I'm doing okay. I promise". And for some that was enough. For others though, it was sort of a mission to dig the truth out of me and i finally admitted to one co-worker (a friend of sorts) that my best friend, took her life, and that i wasn't holding up well.

After giving me a hug and letting me cry on his shoulder he ran to Sean (who i spent the day avoiding) and told him why I was upset. The moment he found out, he hounded me the rest of my shift. He wanted to pull me in for a hug, and have me talk about what was ailing me, he asked if i was mad at him, and that he wanted to fix whatever was bothering me. Yadda, Yadda, Yadda.

But of course, any attempt for him to console me, was weeks too late. I did come to him when I thought Marie was missing to ask for his advice and he told me to 'do what i did before I knew her". He disregarded my concerns because he didn't know her and doesn't care enough about me as a friend to give a shit about what goes on with me outside of work. He proved then and there that he isn't a true friend of mine or someone I ever want to associate with or come to for anything. And when he was bugging me on Saturday to come to him, I lost it.

I fucking screamed at him (in the receiving part of our store, far far far away from customers). I told him that he couldn't help and that I didn't need him to console me. That i felt like shit and that I did not care to come to him for anything ever. I don't think I have ever been that mad and then mean to someone in my whole entire life. Anger is not a part of who i am, but i must admit that I am full of it these days and i am taking it out on people i tried to confide in who turned me away.

He has never seen that side of me also. And before I could even utter a 'i'm fucking pissed but i didn't mean to blow up at you like that' i heard him walk away. We didn't speak the rest of the day. His face burned read the rest of the shift. I apologized on Sunday, because while grief has brought out anger in me I don't wish to make anyone feel bad. But that doesn't mean I am not disappointed in him or myself for ever wanting him to be something he can't. I still can't get over the fact that I want nothing to do with Sean now. I don't want to talk to him, or hug him or listen to his dumb stories. I want to do what I did before I knew him....I want to exist and go one making connections to people who care about me. And that excludes him.

No one seems to understand that the girl I was before Marie died will never exist again. Sure I will find myself back to the stable happy,bubbly, optimistic girl that I was. That is a given. I will grow older and make friends and be passionate about writing and taking pictures and hugging cute boys. I will exist and go on and cope with my pain because I have people and things to live for. But at the same time, I will feel Marie's absence forever. From time to time I will want to call her and tell her how I am doing. I will want to hear her laugh and recount stories from our youth. I will contemplate why she decided to leave and if there was anything I could have done. But foremost, I will go on living with that constant regret that she isn't here to experience it with me.

Her death has changed me. I feel different. Numb. Broken. Sent out for Repair. I am a walking, talking, seemingly functioning human being who is faking it to the world. I smile and nod and pretend to care because the people around me need me to be the 'former beckett'. The one who hasn't been altered by the death of her friend. They don't need the sad, sullen Beckett. They don't want to know how I am holding up because they know the truth will make them sad too.

And for the most part, putting on the brave face is something I'm okay with doing during this holiday rush. But come Monday I know i will once again be face to face with my own grief and I am terrified by this road to healing. It is necessary but terrifying all the same because I will be left with the 'what happens now' question.

Until then though, Life goes on. I am doing okay, holding up and trying to write as much as I can. A lot of people have stepped up in the friend department and I have been more than grateful for them. I am working tomorrow and Xmas eve and then I am off to my aunts house to spend Christmas with them. Being around my cousin will be good for me. She is darling and inquisitive and made me promise to bake cookies for Santa (i haven't told her yet that i don't know how to bake cookies but we'll figure it out together). She even called yesterday (via begging my aunt) to ask if I was definitely spending Christmas with them. When I said yes, she seemed relieved. Being wanted and needed is comforting, and it is that alone some days that is carrying me through these weeks.

I wanted to wish everyone a happy holiday. I know I've been very depressed lately but your support means a lot. Please enjoy the next few days for me. It will mean the world to me to know that all of you had a very delightful holiday weekend surrounded my friends and family.

~Beckett.

An Unfinished Life.

2011-12-16T09:15:00.006-05:00

I made the mistake of going to work yesterday.

I thought after two days of inconsolable crying, insatiable eating and a search for answers regarding Marie's death that I needed to get out of the house. I needed some distraction from the sheer weight of my grief. I spent Wednesday night drafting a letter to her family, explaining how much she meant to me and that I will feel her loss forever. That she will never be replaced but that if I could offer any kind of comfort during this terrible time, I am only a phone call away.

I haven't talked to her family since Tuesday. I want to. I need to. But every time I summon up the courage, I cry. I've cried so much these last few days that I'm getting terrible head pains. I even fucking forgot to eat yesterday. My appetite is endless, I'm compensating I know, but having a full belly is comforting for some reason. My stomach has felt so empty these last few days and food is the only, fleeting, relief. As someone who rarely drinks soda, I have been cradling the bottle (funny, for most people this would be alcohol. me, soda) because the bubbles make me feel full.

Because my appetite has been irregular I can't tell the difference between actual hunger and sorrow hunger (if such a thing exist), and I went the whole day having just consumed two cans of soda and a pretty gross doughnut. I forgot to actually make something for myself to eat. Who forgets to eat. Obviously I am not coping well. I didn't think i'd ever have to go through this form of coping. But I will learn how and it will get easier and I will be strong again. Not today but one day. Until then my appetite is shot to hell.

And I guess this is why I wanted to go to work yesterday. I wanted to attempt get out of bed and away from the hunger and away from the isolation. But I failed miserably.

The moment I walked in everyone knew something was wrong. I carry my emotions on my face and the sadness seeped through. Everyone immediately asked what was wrong: are you pregnant? (I kept clutching my hungry belly, i don't blame this person for asking, though it was not the question i was expecting), Did you break up with your boyfriend? (but i don't have a boyfriend) Did someone beat you up? Did you beat someone up? Can I beat someone up for you? (can you fix a broken heart?purty please).

And this questioning went on my whole shift. My night consisted of 'what's wrong with Beckett' inquiries. I worked, I answered phones, I pretended to be a functioning human being but everyone knew it was all an act. I kept going to the bathroom, every hour it seemed, to cry and would come back with red eyes. My voice quivered a lot. I avoided eye contact. And I fucking forget to eat. I waltz through work like a zombie. I carried Marie in my head and heart all day. I thought about the first time we met (my first day of 7th grade), I thought about prom night and how we attended for two seconds and then got burritos, I thought about how annoying she used to be in movies (she'd talk through the whole damn thing). I thought about our plans for the future which she took to her grave. I thought about my friend, who I'll miss forever.

And while everyone was very concerned for me yesterday they continued (as they should have) to go on with their day. They joked around with one another, made plans for the weekend, complained about life all the while checking in on my every once in a while. And i was jealous and upset and frustrated because just two weeks ago I was one of them, when i didn't know the sheer weight of Marie's hopelessness. What I wouldn't give to be back at the place and time again.

And I am not good with people consoling me. I get terribly emotional and then guilty for burdening them with my ailments. This makes me angry and stubborn. so i push people away who wish to tend to me. I was receptive to some people's attempt of comfort yesterday (i readily accepted hugs and 'i love u, when you are ready to tell me what is wrong, I'm here') but others i refused any sort of comfort from. McAb's mainly.

I unfortunately ran into him just as he (whose real name is Sean) walked in for his shift and the moment he saw me he wanted a hug. But I ignored his request, continued doing what i was doing (looking at the daily assignment sheet) and fought back tears. He called my name again and made a sigh like 'oh you are still being really weird cause you think your friend is missing or some shit'. The sound he made was sheer exasperation, like 'when the hell is she going to get over whatever she is going through'. And grant it save but Blue, no one knows how my search for Marie ended but I didn't want to fucking hug him. I didn't want to be anywhere near him and we he attempted to pull me in for a hug, I nearly became violent.

I don't open up to people much about my life outside of work and I guess my issue and disappointment towards Sean is that when I needed him last week to just listen to my concerns about Marie he told me to 'do what i did before i knew her, move on'. That sentence will play in my mind every time i see him. I know we aren't that close friends, we've rarely hung out outside of work and I couldn't tell you much about his past. I am just one of the many girls he flirts with on a regular basis. I am another chick who helps his ego.

But last week I was looking for a friend in Sean. I put down my own flirty tendencies toward him and simply wanted his opinion. Because I felt Kat was too emotional, and my friend Michelle too unstable. I couldn't go to Blue, then, because he was off working. I went to Sean because he always comes to me for problems and I've been very attentive. And I wanted, needed him, to care enough to listen and be supportive.

And that mother fucker shrugged my concerns off. He didn't know her or didn't care that I thought my best friend was missing (which at the time i thought she was). And when he asked me for a hug yesterday (again in the break room this time), I became so fucking ill. Every bone in my body locked up, i grew rigid and clutched my stomach (which began to hurt) and pulled away from him. But he grabbed my arm anyway (a little to rough for my liking) and asked me what was wrong and that I need to talk to someone about whatever the hell is going on with me, so i pulled away again and backed into a corner and closed my eyes again and told him to go away. "Why won't you talk to me" he kept repeating and all i could do was shake my head. He did leave me alone then, only after someone walked in to the break room for water.

He wouldn't leave me alone after that though. Now sensing that something was wrong, he begged me to talk to him (but i tried and you were no help), that I was being too sad and sullen which was making him miserable (oh, I'm sorry. let me ask you how you are after your best friends shoots herself in her fucking head and leaves a suicide note that resembles a fucking grocery list of what to do once her body after it is found!) that he was there to talk and he would follow me around until i did (can't follow me into the girls bathroom asshole). A part of me wanted to let him know that my gut instinct was right. I wanted to scream and shout at him for being wrong, and for not caring. I wanted to tell him that I KNEW something terrible was wrong with my best friend and I needed him to be some form of support just to make me feel better and he completely disregarded my fears and the thought of him ever touching me again feels like death.

Around 8 o'clock I'd completely lost it. From my frequent bathroom trips where i bawled my eyes out, to dodging concerned co-workers all the while trying to stop myself from vomiting, I called my mom and broke down. I cried loud and hard outside in a corner where no one could see me. I told her that I made a mistake going to work and that I was angry and sad at Marie for what she did and how she felt these last few months. And my mom, who surprisingly kept it together, told me that I have to go through this pain in order to continue living. That maybe I should talk to someone about Marie, about my pain, to take another day to myself to remember her and begin to make peace with life without her.

And the words helped. I cried a little less the rest of the night ( key word: less). Made it through the next two hours of my shift and then cried on the walk home. I never thought I'd join the club of people who'd have to deal with the loss of a loved one by suicide. Especially Marie's. I am literally blindsided by the decision she made to end her life, especially since we spent most of our time talking about the future. About traveling together and meeting boys and settling down and being friends forever. About her being the aunt to my children and the promise she made that if I decided to name my first born daughter Carrick ( i think it's interesting) that she would call her Carrot to taunt me.

This was our year of awesomeness! We talked about getting our acts together and being the secure 20 something year olds ready to take on the world. She wanted to come to New York this summer to visit, I was going to take her to Bleecker Street where all the cute boys roam. I was going to show her a nerdy good time because I knew she needed a nerdy good time.Her act of suicide has all but destroyed those plans and I will forever feel like i am living for two now. I don't know why she thought death was the best alternative. Even when I am in the depths of despair there are things that carry me out of it. My mom, the sound of the wind, sunlight....her. And I can't believe that during her final minutes she couldn't conjure any of that up to stay.

And I am not ashamed of Marie, I am not. But I am struggling to explain her death to people because it was suicide. If she'd die say by cancer or in a car accident or by some crazy homicidal maniac I could place her death on someone else/things shoulder. Instead a part of my grief will forever be marred by anger because she took her life and I am conflicted by feelings of complete and utter grief and anger towards the person i love who decided that that alone wasn't enough to live.

Today is her memorial and I just couldn't make it through work with people asking what was wrong. So I called out and spent the day with my cats. I know the solitude is bad but for today it is necessary. I don't know who I am without Marie. Since I was 12 this girl has been such a huge part of my life. Maybe the problem is that for so long I have felt defined by her existence. She was my voice of reason, my motivator, my link to the past. I told her everything. I shared my ideas with her, I admitted my passions with her and readily ate up her suggestions and critique regarding my writing. Who will understand my lame jokes, who will tease me about liking dudes with square foreheads....who will call my future daughter (years and years from being born) Carrot.

I'm worried that I won't be able to write again (she helped me focus my thoughts). That I won't be able to open up again ( i admitted everything to her). That along with this grief i will carry with me this inability to love anyone as much as I loved her. Because I gave her my all, and that wasn't enough you see.

Despite the friends I have here and the support I am getting from the few people I have let into this personal tragedy no one will ever understand the magnitude of Marie's friendship. She was my soul mate, my kindred spirit and the only person I felt truly connected to. And I'm not saying I won't feel that way again, I'm not saying that independent of her I can't still lead this extraordinary life. I am saying that it will be incredibly hard, and I will miss her dearly and I will continue to try and understand her death even if the clues lead me back to the fact that she depressed and didn't want to handle life anymore.

It's a beautiful day outside, sunny and chilly and the wind is caressing the branches ever so softly and I'll regret that she won't be able to see or find comfort in any of these things anymore. I'm worried that her soul is stuck somewhere and that she hasn't found peace in the afterlife. She didn't believe in god and if he/she does exist that maybe this act does not allow for entry into heaven or the pleasant place in the crevice of the clouds. I'll give up my spot there if that means she can enjoy heaven now.

I want to be the strong one able to deal with this better than I have been but I must admit in these last few days I've wished for someone to help lessen this pain. I feel weak and am achy and numb. I simply want a shoulder to cry on and a hug so tight it eliminates the pain already coursing through me. I have this desire and repulsion to be touched and consoled. I feel out of breath and in need of a respirator and i have spent most of my days in bed, wishing that there was a warm body nearby that i could fold into that would breathe for both of us.

And I apologize in advance for writing so much about the last few days. But the writing helps. Lately it's the only thing helping. It has always been my way to understand what my body can't process. It has been my way, these last few days, of coping. The few people and resources I have sought out to process her death all mention the heartbreak of coping. There is just no choice but to. I have family and friends that I love, I have aspirations and dreams that I want to make reality, and I have no choice but to put one foot in front of the other and continue living. I have no choice but to cope and continue to learn to cope with her not being here anymore.

Melancholia.

2011-12-15T09:45:00.003-05:00

The mornings are the worst.

Because there is always that brief moment when I think the last two days have been one long ass nightmare.

I can't get the voice of her mom outta my head 'i just want my baby back' and I can't help thinking that there was something I could of done.

Despite being her best friend, i've never felt more like a stranger to Marie after her suicide. Sure we talked about depression, sure we talked our feelings of isolation. At one time I was no stranger to suicidal thoughts. Who here can say that they haven't thought about it? But the difference is that I could have never gone through with ending my life because even the pain of living feels nice. Being alive and knowing that things can get better is exhilarating. It feels like a badge of honor to be alive.

My mornings these last few days consist of a lot of crying. My afternoons are spent trying to fill the emptiness in my stomach with food, in hopes that the bottomless pit that once was my stomach will feel less empty with food in it. I escaped my house for a bit yesterday and wandered the streets buying everything that look good. Chicken tenders, a sandwich, chips, soda and candy. I don't eat this much during the week but my stomach just felt so empty to the point of physical pain and cramping. I thought the food would help.

It did not. I cried during the actual consumption. The food look great and was prepared with care but everything tasted bland. I couldn't eat everything, so most of it went into my fridge. I doubt anything will feel or taste that great for the next few weeks.

Every waking thing reminds me of Marie and i seem to only be able to escape her in my dreams, a guarded realm i've had practice protecting. Her memorial is tomorrow and I won't be able to attend, I don't think I could emotionally or mentally do so even if I lived in South Carolina. I feel like I should call her parents again, but I don't have any words of comfort right now. I am a mess and the constant sobbing is making me ill. I constantly feel like throwing up but there is nothing in my stomach, so my throat and belly just ache with a weird numbness.

I've only told a few people about Marie's death. My mom, who needed to know, and Blue because he called and asked what was going on in my life lately. And I just sobbed and told him and I didn't feel any better, just less burdened by sharing the news to someone else. He was a brief source of comfort, but he didn't know her and could not grasp the extent of our friendship fully. I realized I just wanted a shoulder to cry on, to be weak and helpless, for someone to say they would take care of the pain for me.

Devastated and Disappointed is what my grief feels like these days. She was my best friend. Every memory I have from my teenage years revolves her. The last three years (up until 5 months ago) we talked too each other every day. I have her laugh embedded in my head, every plan we made for the future, feels achievable until I remember she is no longer here. She was always the stronger of the two. More assertive and smart and strong willed. I always let her take the reigns because she was my protector.

And i can't get over the fact (from the conversation I have had with her mom, stepfather and friend from work) that she was truly miserable at home and in North Carolina. The loss of her job sent Marie into the deep depths of depression and misery. She took her life in the middle of the night alone and ashamed. She was found with her cell phone, which she spent the last few minutes erasing every contact from her life. She left a note for her mom and step-dad, saying she was sorry and to call 9-1-1. She also gave directions on how to handle her body and what to do with her remains.

Even in death she needed to be in charge. She needed to have control.

The thing that goes through my head is how lonely she must have felt those last few seconds. And I don't think i'll ever forgive myself for not being more aware of her sadness. While she was withering away emotionally in south carolina, I was much more concerned with the happiness that was occurring in my life. The way things seemed to be falling into place lately. I spent the last 5 months making bonds, growing stronger in my own skin, and finding peace with my imperfections. And my best friend was in another mental state altogether.

I am depressed and sad and fucking angry at everything. I want my best friend back. I want to tell ask her why the good in her life wasn't good enough for her to stay. She had a family, a nephew who idolized her and a mother who was proud of her and best friend who wanted to see the world with her and she couldn't hang on for that. That's where the disappointment lies, because Marie knew how crappy things were. She knew that she wasn't normal by any standards. She was complicated and interesting and unique and it isn't easy being all those things in a world where average wins all the time. And our life together, revolved around proving that atypical was beautiful.

Her death makes that sentiment feel like a lie.

Her death makes me feel like a long standing truth has been shattered.

I miss her terribly. I don't know who I am without her. And I wish she would have come to me. I wish we could have at least had one last conversation before she died.

I would like to thank everyone who has reached out to me these last few days. Your support and general concern has made things....better. I am holding up (i promise). Therapy taught me how to cope with things and more than ever the lessons i learned there are helping me get through this.

But I am numb and quite despondent and am struggling too find much comfort in anything outside of bed. I was going to take the next two days off, but I know if I stay in the house her loss will eat me alive. I can't believe she's gone. It's surreal.

A Permanent Loss.

2011-12-13T16:32:00.003-05:00

Marie committed suicide last night.

Her mom called today to let me know.

Five months after being fired from her job, leaving North Carolina and returning home to live with her parents her inability to cope with any sort of 'failure' or 'rejection' drove her to take her life.

I am inconsolable. and heartbroken.

my best friend is dead. I didn't reach her in time.

My Day in A Nutshell Part 2

2011-12-10T19:03:00.003-05:00

McAbs: Please be okay again.

Me: I'm trying. But I don't know how.

Don't You, Forget About Me.

2011-12-09T21:16:00.002-05:00

The last few days have been shit. Seriously.

Ever since I've found out this information about Marie: she left her job, moved back home, possibly does not want to be found; I have been in a terrible, terrible mood. No lie. And no one in my life has been helpful to assuage my fears that a) she wants to be left alone forever or b) we won't get into that possibility (which after some consideration, i think is pretty unlikely).

But option A has to mean that whatever it is that has happened to her is bad enough that she felt she couldn't come to me to talk about it. That five months later, she still can't come to me to talk about it. And I completely understand this because when my nephew died back in 2008, i didn't answer Marie's repeated phone calls for months. The text she sent went unanswered. I deleted her voice mails. And was an invisible friend for that one dreadful summer.

But she continued to hound me. Even when I didn't feel like talking because that's what our friendship is like (or what I think it is like). She never gave up looking for me and wondering what was wrong.And explaining our friendship to people who have never meet her is strange. Because despite our personality differences, we compliment one another. Where she is strong, assertive and logical I am sensitive, accomdating and driven by my heart. She's my voice of reason and I am her voice of compassion.

And I've known her since I was 12! I knew her when she had braces and big unruly hair. She knew me when I had chubby cheeks and wore that ugly blue jacket to school for a month. We've talked frequently about our issues with abandonment and trusting people. I've admitted my issues with commitment and boys. We are fearful that people will leave us or find something better. We have been a 'we' since my first day at middle school when she was the only one to ask me my name. And despite what anyone says, it's extremely weird (fine unusual) for me to hear absolutely nothing from her.

And the whole situation is bothersome now because I simply thought she was mad at me. I thought 'hey, she doesn't want to talk to me....that's cool' and that might still be the case. But for her to leave her job, move back home with her sister and mom who she is not close too at all....is just bizarre.

And what's worse is that no one currently is concerned about her 'disappearance' except me. My mom literally became angry with me over the phone because I was concerned. The words 'just let it go and move on ' actually came out of her mouth. So i sulked and ignored her phone calls for a day (but had to call today to ask for money. being broke sucks). So i went to McAbs, because well he's been doing well in my book lately and I needed a voice of reason to calm me down. assuage my fears. maybe even pull me in for a 'it's going to be okay hug'. Instead the motherfucker shrugged his shoulders, told me 'sucks for you' and then said 'what did you do before you knew her....okay, well do that'.

Are you serious?!

What happened to the comforting words. What happened to caring just for a moment about someone I care about instead of wanting to talk about stupid crap. And yeah, i didn't expect him to have the answers (hell, he doesn't know her) but I wanted him to, just for a moment anyway. And it wasn't just McAbs, the few people I told were all 'eh, so what. i mean get over it' and this is tearing me up. It's eating me alive. People are much more concerned about why I'm not smiling and joking around and making sure that they are okay rather than understanding why i am utterly distraught about this.

Now that I know that she isn't just in North Carolina ignoring me because I've said something dumb, I am concerned and scared and completely mad at myself for letting the silence go on for this long. I just figured we were taking a friend break, that we'd return as we always do back to normal. But someone disappearing from your life is almost like a death because there are times when I want to tell her something, that I can't tell anyone else, but I don't have her to go to. I have no way of contacting her: calling her, writing her, emailing her. I have no way of checking in to ask whats wrong.

And dammit, I don't care if she doesn't want to be found. Because you know what, if i suddenly went away, I'd want someone to hunt me down. Because there is always a part of you that wants someone to search for you. To have someone, even if it is just one person, who will search for you regardless.

And the last few days I have been walking around in a fog. I don't know what to do. Everyone wants me to put this recent piece of information behind me. Forget about her. She'll get in touch when she wants to. Everyone wants me to put the smile back on my face, laugh it up and stop overreacting. McAbs became livid with me today because I was pissy with him. He asked what was wrong (ugh, didn't we attempt this yesterday) and I told him that 'i needed [his] advice yesterday and instead he shut me down'. We spent the rest of the shift arguing like crazy. I never want to do that again.

I feel alone. If that makes sense. I was shelving the dumb magnetic quotes today and one by Judy Blume (maybe) about friendship and how friends are these people who keep and cherish because they are a link to our past and how much progress we have made. And maybe this is the terrifying part because Marie is the only link to my past. She was with me during the awkward teen years, she was there with me during the hell that was college, and she has been there for me now as I finally seem to be putting things together. She is my kindred spirit. I've talked to her about things that I have never gone to anyone else about (except maybe my therapist). And vice versa. We come from very similar family backgrounds (absent fathers, complicated siblings, overwhelmed mothers) and found solace in being misfits together.

And hell, our friendship wasn't perfect. It wasn't near perfect but the thought of something being wrong with her and me not being able to do anything, even wish her well...is unbearable. And I absolutely hate that everyone here needs me to be happy go lucky beckett. They need me to smile and nod and pay attention and listen to their problems and forget about my own. They need me to push past this feeling of loss (even if a temporary one) because it brings them down.

But I can't help but remind them, that if I one day, up and decided to disappear, I would still want someone to look for me. I'd still want someone to give a damn about my well being to make sure if I was okay. I don't understand why this is so hard for people to understand.

Of course now I have no idea what to do. Outside of the work friend I got in touch with, I have no other leads in order to track Marie down. And a part of me feels like I might have to wait for her to get in contact with me. Which is something I am not totally comfortable doing (especially as it feels too close to a few recommendation to 'forget about her').

But I know that I can't go around being frustrated and sullen because of this. I am wearing the sadness on my face and the longer I remain in this state thet harder it will be for me to get our of out. I physically cannot put my life on hold because it will stunt me. I know this. The obsessive thoughts will stall me and push people away and I am not that close to my current or circle of friends to expect them to wait for me to escape this despair.

But at the same time, I've never felt more at a loss about a situation. What I want to do and what I have to do are butting heads. And the one person I could use some advice from is the one person I can't find to ask it of.

Missing Person.

2011-12-08T10:55:00.002-05:00

Marie has gone missing....literally.

After five months of silence: no phone calls, no texts about boys and Kitchen Nightmares, I push past my fears that Marie just no longer wanted to be friends (hence the silence treatment) and reached out to her on her birthday. It's her favorite holiday, more so than Christmas and thanksgiving.

Even when we are mad and livid at each other, our birthdays are a big deal. We celebrate for weeks leading up to it and send texts back and forth reminding one another, as if we'd forget, of the impending day. But with no word from her since July, I was starting to think something was up. September came and week, October flew by, and come November (after a few 'hey where the hell are you texts) when she had not called to ask if we could meet up for Thanksgiving back home, as we sometimes do, i began to worry more.

And then Tuesday, December the 6th, came around. Marie's 26th birthday. The only day of the year where she is completely and unabashedly proud of being a nuisance and making sure everyone knows it hers birthday....there was nothing but silence from her end. I sent her five or six texts that day. I rehearsed my 'you know friends don't treat friends like this' speech, I even then prepared my apology speech for the reprimanding one. But only silence. Complete and utter Silence.

I never thought Silence could feel so....empty. I usually prefer it.

By midnight I was freaking out. Because I am often a selfish, selfish girl I assumed her lack of response to my calls had something to do with her being mad at me. I mean I did call the dude she was interested in (the married one) an old, balding, hefty fellow. I do have a tendency of talking about myself (and personal problems a lot), maybe it's me. But after the awkwardness that was (is) no word from her, I started to think maybe it's her. Maybe she is in trouble or hurt or in a jam. Maybe, jesus christ, I don't want to assume it is anything worse...

So I finally called her, after a six week break from dialing her number, and for fucks sake her phone is no longer in service. I got a freaking 'this number is no longer active, if you feel this is an error please hang up and try again" recording. So I did, for an hour straight. To hear the same damn message over and over again.

Marie doesn't have a facebook account, she doesn't believe in any sort of social networking pages and I am her only friend from high school and college. I am her closest friend (i think) and she has all but disappeared from Earth. I spent the next couple of hours searching through news archives from her town to see if, snerk gerks, anything terrible had happened. But she may be the only person in the world whose name does not pop up in our info age. I searched for any clue to her absence: an accident, missing persons report SOMETHING. And nothing popped up in any of the local feeds. I then tried to reach her work email, which too has been erased.

In a panic, I called the extension to her job that she gave me a few years back, and the phone just continued to ring for a solid minute! This is fucking terrifying people. What happens if something terrible has happened to her and I have been completely absorbed in my own....issues...to pay attention to the clues.

Last night, as a last ditch effort, I reached out to the married guy I thought she was hooking up with (he sent me a facebook message once because Marie said he would never be able to find me on facebook) in hopes that he would have some information. A few hours later, I received a message saying he too had not heard from Marie in a few months and was going to contact me to see if I had her mom or sisters number. Or you freaking serious?!

I've been in conact with him since yesterday and the things I have learned about the last few months are unreal: she left her job in July and moved back home sometime in September to live with her mom and sister, she was having uber issues where she was, and the two of us are her only contact...in the WORLD.

He called just a few minutes ago (but left a voicemail) because he said the email message I sent last night (about the last few convo's i had with her in July) had him questing how much I knew about Marie's life in North Carolina. That there are some things she obviously left out during our conversations about Kitchen Nightmares. I am confused, and terrified and scared. I feel like I am either looking for a person who doesn't want to be found or worse....a ghost.

I am seriously in a state of shock and disbelief. I wont/ can't allow myself to think beyond trying to find what the hell happened to her and where she could have gone. I am a little hesitant to talk to her last contact in North Carolina for fear of revealing and finding out too much about Marie's life there. But at the same time, not knowing if she is okay, alive and doing well is the worst feeling in the world.

I don't know what to do. I never thought I'd be in a position where I'd have to consider the next steps to take in finding a person who has suddenly...gone missing.

Today in a Nutshell

2011-12-04T23:10:00.003-05:00

Blue and I are mending our friendship after a few bumps in the road (me calling him out on his bullshit) a few months ago. It was a brutal, brutal ordeal and I don't think I've ever been madder.

So when he invited me on a mini adventure to an old abandoned quarry, I applauded him for reaching out to me and appealing to two of my favorite things : taking pictures and old abandoned things.

And the trip was pretty amazing. The old camp ground was uber spooky and desolate and dead save for a few acres of land preserved by the county. We stumbled on abandoned cars and an old tennis court and even climbed a few fences!

Afterwards, we grabbed beer and brunch at a pub (because climbing fences, rocks and other such shrubbery works up an appetite) and by gawd, I actually found a beer that i like. It's sweet and awesome and had me dancing in my seat, partially from impending drunkassness, but nonetheless yum.

And I had the best french toast in the whole wide world! Suggested to me by a very nice bartender whose name I can't remember.

And then I was offered a complimentary drink and all went to hell, because the last one always seems to do me in. I dragged Blue to the mall and the library afterwards in search for gloves and a book about birds. He didn't mind though.

I really, really, really had a great time today. I am obsessed with trying to establish a life in New York with solid friends , a job that I like (still working on that) and activities that inspire me to create art I am proud of. And so far, I've been doing an okay job of this. It has forced me to come out of my shell and put myself out there to achieve this and every adventure is one more affirmation that things are going to be okay for me. That my life is getting better. I can't explain how comforting that is.

Anyway, I should probably get some sleep. My head feels so heavy and in the morning I hope to have a brilliant story idea inspired my our hike today.

~Beckett

Back to the Grind.

2011-11-28T09:42:00.003-05:00

Thanksgiving was amazing, per usual.

I ate way too much. Spent most of my days playing Just Dance 3 on the Wii. And slept a lot.

I arrived back in New York yesterday to my hectic, hectic, complicated life and am sort of feeling homesick today. There was something so peaceful about being home and having to worry about little.

Outside of that, I am terribly excited to be back. Of course I had a few revelations while home: about the past, about myself and the future, and am ready to make some concrete plans about my next move in the job, writing and life department.

But of course, I have to go to work now, so I won't be able to write about it until later. I did not miss Le Sad Store while I was away, I dread going to work today. I'm prepared to give customers the stank eye all day.

Until Later

Beckett

Falling into Place.

2011-11-14T09:04:00.006-05:00

After four hours spent building a desk that should have taken a total of 30 minutes to put together....I now have a functioning, though semi wobbly desk in my room. And it has made a world of difference. I haven't had a desk in a room, since college and not writing in bed feels good.

Of course, the 'whole putting the thing together' ordeal was brutal. I'm awful with tools and decided two hours into my 'why the fuck are there so many screws for such a small desk...and what is this metal thing...a shelf, the back...i'm losing it" rant, to call McAbs back to put the thing together (lets be honest, I kind of just wanted him in my house again. It felt nice). But I didn't, for several reasons, and instead called Cool Ass Dude (who was the previous owner) so he could walk me through the building process. Despite having four screws left over, the desk is at least upright! So yay, me.

I was a little hesistant that having a desk in my room would take up a lot of space but it fits so nicely in the corner, I'm not sure how i've gone this long without one. The new addition is a small accomplishment that I am pretty proud of. I mean the amount of writing alone, i've gotten down since Saturday can vouche for this.

In other news, I am going home this Saturday for Thanksgiving. The managers put a hault on anyone requesting the holidays off, but I sort of stomped into the office and told the store manager that I'd already purchased tickets to go home and that Thanksgiving is the only holiday I am able to go home for. She said it was okay, this time, but next year (like that's gonna happen) I won't be allowed to request Thanksgiving week off. I'm working on not being their next thanksgiving so i'm sure this wont be a problem.

Of course, I am very excited to be heading home. I need a break from my new york life and everything around me. I'd like to go home, relax, spend time with my family and come up with a game plan as to what I need to do in the next few months to change my current situation. I hate that my life sounds like a record on repeat, but I need a new job, I need to meet people, i'd even like to try the dating (because having a uber crush on McAbs is not healthy; despite how tenderly he treated the things and people in my home. I hate that he has a girlfriend).

My home life is falling into place, i like my friends and my growing photography hobby. I like my morning routines, and wriitng late at night. I like a lot of things about my life currently, but I know that I desire more stability in areas that I am going to have to work my butt off to attain. Which i'm willing to do, after my small break from it all in South Carolina with my family.

'Not Without Your Permission'

2011-11-12T21:54:00.002-05:00

So apparently I find these four words very attractive when said from the mouths of cute boys. Seriously.

A week ago, Cool Ass Dude from Work, said he was getting a new desk and was going to have to put his old one in storage unless he could find someone to take it off his hands. Despite my initial fears of collecting a lot of things, when he said this, I immediately said "I'll take it, I've been wanting a desk in my room for a while now'. I am pretty comfortable with my living situation and until I get a job in the city (where living closer will be both cheaper and lighter on the travel thing) I have every intention of remaining at my current place for at least another year.

And because my brain and heart knows this, I want to decorate and personalize my room as much as possible. I want to bring a sense of calm and comfort to my home away from home and a desk is just the touch I need in my space. Because I really miss having a desk; having one has always made me feel more productive, cause lets be honest when I use my computer in bed i get little to no work done. I play the sims, watch videos on youtube and surf the net for things like 'scottish slang', no lie.

So we agreed that as long as I could find a way to get it to my place the desk was mine. And luckily I know a lot of people with cars and convincing them ( 'I'll buy you pizza) was easy. Cool Ass Dude dismantled the desk on Wednesday and McAbs (who he is pretty good friends with) brought it in his car today during the mandatory 8 o'clock store meeting we seem to have every year (it was BS, we all looked so rough the rest of the day). Of course when McAbs told me he had my new desk in his car to take back to my house I was a) excited ya'll and b) anxious.

McAbs, in my house, in my bedroom, near my personal items. Oh, hell no.

My relationship with McAbs has evolved into a decent friendship since Summer. He still has a girlfriend and I'm still not a scandalous whore so we remain friends, with the sexual tension of Mulder and Scully (Bones and Booth pre this season) looming overhead, who joke around, flirt and bicker. No one seems to get why we get along. Kat shakes her head at us two a lot, as if she is exasperated with the amount of back and forth banter we have. But generally I like McAbs. So he can be a totaly douche sometimes, so he talks about SEX a lot but...we get along, and we have each others back and he buys me lunch sometimes. It's fun having him around. I treat him like my platonic work boyfriend who I can come to when customers and driving me crazy and I just need someone to talk to.

But this is not to say that being platonic friends with him is easy. Because it isn't all the time. There are some days when the boundaries seem to blur and we have to pull away to remember that he has a girlfriend and I am not a boyfriend stealer. We have never (ever) gone beyond hugging and an occasional kiss on the check but even that seems wrong and we both regret it afterwards.

So when he said that he would drive me home after the two hour meeting to drop the desk off, I sort of freaked internally. My room is my sanctuary. It is my solace away from the world, I rarely invite people over because I feel like my space my divine space that cannot be corrupted by another person (outside of family; including the people i live with, they are simply amazing). And inviting McAbs into my space, seemed almost too personal. Having him close to my bed, and my books, and my dumb writings seemed...invasive. Because He is so masculine and often brutish and crude and I imagine things crumbling around him if he were to enter my room (wow this all sounds very sexual, i apologize).

But I really wanted that damn desk. Cool Ass Dude sent me a picture when he first mentioned he wanted to give it away, and I already picked out a spot in my room to place it. And McAbs schedule rarely coincides with mine, so I wasn't sure he would be able to bring it any other day. I was actually shocked when he said he'd brought it all because he made such a stink about the desk possibly messing up his car. So with a willing McAbs available to do all the grunt work, I put my fears aside and said 'yeah, sure we'll totally bring it to my house". With a few rules:

Because my landlady and daughter and older son (who doesn't live here) usually have Saturday breakfast together, McAbs would have to bring the desk upstairs and then, using my exact words, 'get the fuck out my house'. My landlady is sorta religious and her daughter is only ten, so i didn't want to give them the impression that I was bringing a boy over to do....adult things. And McAbs was cool with this, cause he was being lazy and didn't want to put the desk together anyway.

When we get to my house we've already established a game plan. I'll grab the detached desk legs and he'll grab the desk top and back. We'll make our way, quickly, upstairs as to avoid weirdness and then he'll 'drop that shit and go". Right.

Of course the moment we open the door those plans are all but shot to hell. Nicole, landladys 10 year old daughter, hearing my voice from inside the foyer is waiting at the door with the cats, our new puppy, and a shocked expression on her face at the sight of me....with a boy. I introduce McAbs to a now smiling Nicole (who is giving me the 'who is this' face) and am a little shocked by how comfortable, sweet and charming he is to her. The dog, who is now loose, runs into the foyer to smell McAbs who is struggling to hold up the desk but manages to pet the dog until he runs back to Nicole.

Nicole is talking to McAbs a mile a minute, introducing the dog, and herself again, and giving me a 'seriously who is this' face. But he remains, very friendly, and approachable and I am taken aback by this side of McAbs. After a few more exchanges between Nicole, I begin to make my way upstairs, once I realize our plan is getting all screwy, but McAbs does not follow. He is still in the foyer, nodding at something Nicole is saying and nudging the dog with his shoes (which the dog loves)

Me: "Hey why aren't you following"
McAbs: You haven't asked me in yet?
Me: [longest. pause. ever] When did you become a vampire.
McAbs: Who do you think I am, walking into a house without being asked. I need your permission first. I can't come in without your permission.

I am a little stunned by this. This is a dude who has openly talked to me about everything under the sun. This is a guy who I often have to say 'I think that's enough information'. This is a dude who expresses little to no interest in boundaries. And yet, there he was in my foyer, unflinching, unmoving, until I invited him in. I couldn't believe it, so much that, I walked back down the stair and gave him a 'are you kidding look' but he wasn't, and the desk was visibly heavy and he wouldn't budge. not until i permitted him.

Me [heart. slowing. beating]: Fine. You have my permission.

And it was like the veil that was preventing him from entering had been lifted and he crossed the doorway into my house, taking care to wipe his feet.

Oh. My. Word. I think I literally may have, briefly, falling stupidly in love with his comment. Who, asks permission to enter someones house. And yeah, he may have just done so because Nicole was there and he didn't want to barge in, but it was terribly sweet. Terribly.

When I was in therapy, I describe anxiety as a house. A big beautiful house that, of course, I didn't allow any visitors inside. It was a guarded, fenced off, escape for me that fed into my own fears about myself and my placement in the world. And while I feel less anxious and depressed than I did in college, those aspects of my being will never go away. I remember telling my therapist that only few people were allowed into the house of anxiety, that I rarely invited visitors in. And it had/has much to do with a fear that they would trample on all the delicate possessions that I stored within the walls.

So when McAbs asked for my permission to enter my safe, guarded, house (without any previous knowledge of my anxiety)....my escape from the world...it was like a promise that he would leave it just as he entered it. That he'd just stay for as long as I allowed and then go when it was time.

And he did exactly that. We brought the desk pieces to my door, where he laid them gently in front of my locked door and then asked if there was anything else I needed him to do. Of course, I said no, (nicole was still waiting on the stairs, peeking up at us two) and I walked him to his car, after he said goodbye to everyone (including the damn dog).

And I know, I know, I know that it's wrong to think of McAbs this way...but goddamn he was such a sweet, sweet boy today. And I felt so safe having him in my house, with my things, that he tenderly made sure not to destroy.

I'm such a sucker for dumb, nice things, boys do for me. And despite what anyone says about the nature of our relationship, and how odd the two of us are together, I can't help but respect that he respect my personal space. That literally, he took the time to explore swiftly yet delicately my guarded surroundings only after being permitted to do so.

Private Icon:

2011-11-07T10:33:00.003-05:00

Kat and I are obsessed with this magazine called Nylon. It's sort of a fashion, music, design/art nylon heavy on crazy layouts and all things interesting and independent.

I am not a fan of woman magazines. From Cosmo to InStyle, Vogue to Lucky the articles in women magazine cannot compete with some of the gems I have read in say, GQ and details. While men magazines (that do not fall into the skin category) are filled with not only well dressed men but articles about pop culture and current events that i want to read over and over again. I mean how many 'how to please your man' articles can you read in Cosmo before you realize that they are recycling the same articles every few months.

I picked up Nylon, unfortunately located near Seventeen magazine, because they were doing a Horror issue (scream 4 had just come up and they were featuring the new cast) and ever since then I have eagerly awaited my new issue every month.

Nylon does this interesting piece called Private Icon, which features characters from books, TV and/ or movies/movies whose style has influenced or could influenced the fashionata in all of us. And they haven't gone the cliche route. They profiled Judy Funnie from Doug, Lux Lisbon from the Virgin Suicides and recently Winona Ryder from Heathers, Beetlejuice and Reality Bites. Using clothes that defined their characters, cosmetic accessories or other key items there character would most likely wear in the 'real world' the layout has come to be my favorite piece from Nylon.

Recently after coming across their Private Icon page featuring Charlize Theron from Cider House Rules, Kat and I thought it'd be fun to do make our own layouts...based on our own individual style. Immediately I jumped at the mini art project. I've been slacking the creativity these last few weeks despite 'James Franco' and I's countless conversations about art and inspiration (why can't he be 25) and this served as a quick creative thing i could do to remind myself that I am...well creative.And this project was simple enough. I didn't need much outside of my personal items and a camera to take the pic. And while my simple attempt looks nothing like the professionalism of the Nylon spread I am quite smitten with the results. It's me in a nutshell. Nerdy and Sweet.

Lately I've been enjoying my New York life more than usual. I continue to feel overwhelmed and stressed about things but my friends are making everything more bearable and I am convinced that the life I want here can exist. I recently found out that a boy i had a crush on in college (i think I referred to him as Music guy) is living in Brooklyn, dating boys (not all that shocking to be honest) and attendingNYU. NYU people!!! And instead of being jealous and all 'wtf" I couldn't help but realize I too can have the experience and success here if I just put myself out there a little more.

I'm going to have to sit down soon and compile a list, draft a layout perhaps for my future plans. I have put the job search on hold until after the holidays because I'd really like to go home for Thanksgiving and couldn't imagine starting a new job right before then. But this means that I have at least two weeks to come up with a game plan to shake things up a bit in my life. I feel like I can do this.

And and in totally unrelated news, I'm finally getting a damn desk in my room. After mulling over the idea of having any more furniture in my room, John (cool ass dude from work) said he had a small computer desk he was getting rid of this week and I could have it if I wanted (for free!). After discussing how and when we would get it to my house, because we both don't have cars, I was pleasantly surprised by the number of people who offered their car services as long as a) pizza was provided and b) I promised no scratches would be made to their shit cars.

Hooray for new furniture!

A Brief Interlude.

2011-11-06T21:30:00.002-05:00

Even with this extra hour, there clearly are not enough hours in the day for me to get anything done.

Unfortunately the snow did little in the 'pick me up department' to well, lift me spirits. While I spent the better part of the snowstorm under the covers with my remote controller near by (a perfect day in my book), I am still lethargic and dragging by these days.

I wouldn't go as far as to say I am depressed. Emotionally drained, yes. Mentally spent, probably. Tired, overworked, and a little stressed and ready for a small break from it all, definitely.

The last few weeks have been so weird. I feel completely run downed and a little outside of myself. Suddenly things that had little concrete interest to me; relationships with boys, money (and how I can make more of it), building solid friendships with people and a desire to wear dresses and nail polish, are pushing their way to the forefront of my mind. And I am completely ambivalent about all of this.

I love the word ambivalence, because up until I saw Girl Interrupted I'd misused the word to describe my nonchalance about things. But Ambivalence, as Susanna Kaysen doctor points out, is about conflict, opposing feelings towards something or one, some event or situation. And I must say I am feeling a lot of ambivalence lately about everything.

While I am madly, deeply attracted to 'James Franco' it is sometimes hard talking to him because at 20, he has not yet been jaded by experience. He has several tattoos; one on his arm, one near his heart, an idea to get one on his side about optimism and living life to the fullest. Which I totally get and appreciate. But there is something about being 20 that makes you feel like you conquer the world. Hell at 20, even with all the anxiety and depression, I was convinced that I too would one day take the world by storm.

But our age gap is making me realize a lot more about myself than I would like to admit. Of course, like 'James Franco" I still maintain that I will conquer the world with my sheer awesomeness, i'm a little more practical about how I want to go about doing this. I realize now at 25 that I have to work to be the person I want to be. And that even applies to creating my own version of happiness. And who knew that my wants and aspirations would look so different from what I want now. And I am sort of conflicted about it all. Like how do I handle all these new things that I suddenly want as a person in her mid 20's.

I no longer want to do some of the things I thought I wanted at 20. I am not so much looking to run away from my problems. Hell, I still want to move to England. I still want to travel and write extensively, but I know now that that takes a lot more than looking through travel books and mentally booking tickets at night. I know that everything, is more of an orchestrated ordeal rather than a 'spantaneous happenstance'.

Moreso, I crave stability on a both an internal and external level now that I actually enjoy planning things about with concrete goals. I want to be comfortable in my own skin along with being able to support myself as a something 20. And that includes having a stable, non retail related job. That includes figuring out what I want to do with myself and who I want to be. And sure I don't have it all figured out, but everyday I am learning what I like and what I don't like in order to concentrate my energy.

And oh, and I'd also like to date and have a boy that is mine and mine alone. I'd like to create and write things I am proud of, I'd like weekends off to shop for groceries and check out library books. I'd like to have friends and not worry so much about getting to close.

And more and more these wants are reminders of where my life is going and what I am, in a way, leaving behind to make room for all the new things. And I am not sure if I am completely okay with this. I am fearful and worried and wanting to fall back on the my damaged safety net in order to escape having to deal with my opposing feelings about where I came from (shy, introverted, anxious gal) to where I want to be (introspective, confidant, funny gal).

Case in point: Relationships. All of a sudden, i am all 'I'd really like a boyfriend', 'I'd really like someone to have around'. And unlike college, where no boys, ever showed an interest in me ever, I am suddenly surrounded by single guys, some of whom I wouldn't actually mind dating. And I have no idea how to go about doing this.

"James Franco" aside, because he is truly truly to young and literally said "I'd like to hang out with John (a cool ass employee) but I'd don't think he'd take kindly to my self-indulgence and all about me conversation', there are some actual contenders in the boy department. Some interesting, silly and dumb, dateable guys who'd I'd like to hang out with and get to know. And it is weird suddenly wanting this form of intimacy ( a closeness with someone on an emotional level ) that use to scare the crap out of me. That use to cause me to freak the hell out.

In fact, everything current life change feels strange and new to me. Like who the hell is this girl with my face and voice and plaid t-shirt, wanting everything I use to want (to travel, to write, to be understood) suddenly also wanting a place of her own (while I love, love, love my current living situation, I know in a year or two I would like to be able to afford my own studio apartment), a boy to cuddle with and friends to hang out with on the weekends. Who is this girl, who bears my resemblance yet whose desires are strange and new.

And the answer is it's me of course. It's always been me but like an awakening the image that I have for my life is just coming into view and I'd like it to to be a tangible thing to have, if I can just push past the fear and trepidation of really, deep down inside, of wanting to belong to something finally. Of wanting to have a life for myself that is completely, independently my own.

Snow Day!!!

2011-10-29T21:15:00.002-04:00

In October, of all months. I'll take it.

I was expecting only a few flurries today, not the few inches of snow that has ended up on the ground.

It's been snowing on and off since 11am this morning and I must say I am very content with lounging in bed today (Le Sad Store actually closed early today. 5pm to be exact!), drinking hot chocolate and watching a very dumb movie on Liftetime.

I've not been in the mood to do much of anything lately (including writing) and the storm may be the pick me up I need to get me in better spirits. Do you ever feel immobilized by your own....indecisiveness. I feel like I am in a stalemate of sorts and it's not that I am stuck just simply taking at break at the crossroads because doing anything but remaining still hurts.

I haven't heard anything back about the job I applied for two weeks ago. And while I know the smart thing to do would be to send someone an email this Monday to inquire about the position, I don't feel up to it. I am simply wiped out from the job hunting process and I need a small break from trying to sell myself. Just until Thanksgiving has passed.

And for some reason, despite my utterly crappy week, with crappy news (the only sane manager left at Le Sad Store is leaving in a week) and crappy insane feelings for a soon to be 20 year old James Franco look-a-like (we talked about story writing this Tuesday, not because he is interested in writing, but because he is interested in me as a writer. Where did this kid come from? My inner, most, deepest dreams); the snow, which has a way of demanding that you pay it full attention, has been a nice distraction.

It has forced me to remain inside, clear my head, and watch the ground disappear underneath a cloth of fluffy snow.

And for some reason, even if it's just for a minute, the sight has made a world of difference.

Jan Brady Complex

2011-10-24T00:01:00.004-04:00

The past week has been an emotional roller coaster and I don't think I have cried this much in a very long time.

Surprisingly, it has nothing to do with the current job situation. I am still waiting to hear back from the publishing company and due to my travel plans for Thanksgiving, I would prefer to start a job or continue my job search after November (especially because this year the managers made a real stink about me requesting turkey day off, and I don't think starting a new job will allow me time to go home).

Instead I am stressed about about people and life and wants and desires and general anxieties about myself. I feel as if I am being pulling in a million and one directions from the people around me and I don't know how to reconcile any of this. I recently got into an argument with Kat because she sent me a text Blue Matt sent her a week ago. With his new job, Blue is only able to hang out with anyone after 6pm on the weekday and on the weekends. He has been trying to get us all to go on a group trip to the city; to check out some museums, grab some grub and take pictures.

We were all suppose to (Kat, Blue and I) go to the city next Sunday and possibly ride bikes in central park and then grab hamburger but Blue was starting to get concerned that Kat, who he has a huge crush on, would bail like she has done so many times before. So he sent her a text (or two or five) begging her not to bail because "I like Beckett and all but this is suppose to be a group thing, and it would be really weird just going with her' or something like this.

For the life of me I cannot understand why Kat would send me this text; a text, that I of course took to mean that Matt doesn't want to hang out with me alone (like he does with Kat). While, I know the text between him and Kat was private and he wasn't trying to put me down in some way (by saying he didn't want to hang out with me alone), it was sort of devastating.

When I look at the relationship Blue has with Kat, I can't help but feel envious. Not because I LIKE Blue in any way, shape or form, but because he treats her like a friend he wants to be seen with (or eventually date, despite the fact that she has a boyfriend). On Thursday they always go to the movies, or to grab burgers, or to wander the mall to look at the decorations in Sears. He makes an effort, possibly because he wants to sleep with her, to connect with her even if just for an hour or two a week.

But, I on the other hand, am never invited to do any of these things. By Blue or any of the boys at work. Kat has the way about her that the boys gravitate too. She is an attractive girl, with fiery red hair and yet a vulnerability to her. When she comes around, the boy I could be talking to, will admittedly stop talking to me and go off with Kat. And it doesn't help that Kat loves the attention. She has said before that she wants the attention to be on her, to make other girls (namely the ones she doesn't like) jealous. To put them in their place.

And this is all fine and dandy, except when I inadvertently am that girl. I don't consider myself a homely, ugly, plain, unexciting chick. I think I'm pretty and interesting but I'm not really comfortable in my feminine skin yet (like Kat). I still rock baggy clothes and old school t-shirts. I still say yuck when someone asks why I don't wear makeup and you couldn't get me to wear a skirt if you paid me. And because boys are visuals creatures, I sometimes feel like the ugly duckling around Kat. Especially when the ratio of boys who pay her attention trumps the one or two who look my way.

And i KNOW i am being a stupid, dumb, sensitive girl but some days I want people to be interested in having me around. I want to be the girl who people seek to hang out with. And I hate feeling like the 2nd runner up. So when she me a text of what Blue said I was livid. WHY THE HELL WOULDN'T HE WANT TO HANG OUT WITH ME ALONE? Am I not cool enough/pretty enough/interesting enough to be seen in public with him? Maybe he just invited me along so that Kat would feel more inclined to come? Why is it that Kat is sooooo damn special? Marcia! Marcia! Marcia

I immediately sent Blue a text saying that I didn't want to ruin his trip to the city and was not going to go. I ignored Kat's text asking why I didn't respond back to her text about what Blue said. I shut down. I internalized. I felt hollow.

I am not so much insecure about myself as i am trying to understand my wants and desires from myself and the people around me. And on the top of the list is being needed by the people I invite into my life. In a way, I feel sometimes like Kat likes to have me around because I am no competition to her. And Blue likes to have me around because it draws Kat in and because I am the funny comic relief that is never the star of the movie but the memorable, fleeting character.

And for the last few days, I have let this whole conversation (and apologizes from both end) eat me up. I cried and cried some more and then sulked because I felt invalidated by both Kat and Blue. And then I felt angry at Kat for sending me Blue's text and at Blue for using me. And then I just felt sad and angry and depressed about everything.

On Thursday Kat and I didn't say one word to each other. She was so gloomy and sullen to the point where everyone kept asking her what was wrong, which only made me feel worse because I was the injured one. And then "James Franco" came in to visit her on his day off (because while i have connected to him on some level, he too has been lured by Kat's delicate, dangerous beauty) and I got all frustrated. So frustrated to the point where I even ignored him.

I like 'James Franco' more than I like to admit. And when Kat asked if it was okay that she begin flirting with him at work, I said 'okay' because outside of the marvelous day in the city we spent together, 'James Franco' and I remain in the platonic friend zone. Which is okay, i guess, because he is soooo young. At 20, our five year age difference seems colossal. I once referenced 'Blossom' in a conversation and he had no idea what I was talking about. It was brutal.

But he is really mature for his age, and sometimes in my dumb girl brain, I wish I was more his type. I wish he would give me the amount of attention he's given Kat recently (he made her a mixcd, I was very jealous). But he doesn't, so I watch occasionally from the sidelines (like the damn runner up) wishing I were in her place as he gushes over her, and touches her hand in a delicate way. And I pine, perhaps, to be wanted.

And after the whole Blue statement, and Kats lack of tact/discretion, and 'James Franco' slight interest towards her I couldn't help but feel like a dumpy, frumpy, uninteresting girl (the whole dreadful week) who no one will ever want (in a friend way. in a romantic way. in any sort of way).

So I ignored him, for reasons that were purely out of jealousy. I ignored him because....of Kat. Because of my issues with Blue. Because of my issues with myself.

But 'James Franco' was not having any of this. While most people (mcabs) allow me to be distant and rude and moody, 'James Franco' was not okay with the silent treatment I was giving him. After three days of complete silence, he interrupted my break today to ask what 'was up with me' and my 'mood' and my 'attitude towards him' (kids got some balls). Just like that, as if the answer was that easy. Luckily we were the only two in the break room, so the way I decided to answer could not get me in trouble or cause anyone to worry

"I'm not dealing with things well right now, and I'd like to feel like shit so I can figure out what to do next. I'm sorry "

"You don't have to be sorry. But I'd like you to talk to me about it, especially if it's something i did, and if it has nothing to do with me, I'd like you to come to me anyway, just because" (paraphrasing, he is only 20 after all)

For some reason, 'James Franco' makes me want to be honest about things, and rarely do people tell me I can come to them to vent. so I say

"Up until three years ago, I didn't know how to go to people and tell them my problems. I don't mean to come off rude or bitchy or distant but I feel like people want me to be someone that I can't, and I want them to be someone they can't and I don't know how to come to terms with our inability to do that".

And he looked at me, wearing his stupid hipster glasses and said the he understood. That I can't worry about trying to be anyone except myself because just being me is worth more than trying to be someone else. And that it's okay to sulk and be in a funk and disappear into thoughts for awhile but coming up for air is helpful to. Talking is too.

"You have my number you know. Outside of this shit hole, you can always call me. I hope you know that"

"Yep"

And with that, he walked out.

How am I not suppose to be attracted to this. How? If James Franco were to barge in on you while you were picking at your food and writing bad poetry, only to tell you to 'perk up, or discuss whats wrong', what would you do? You'd gush and spend the last two hours replaying the scene in your head.

When did my life become a Degrassi High episode. I don't think I can take much more of this.

Dear Customer (Round 2),

2011-10-12T18:25:00.002-04:00

If you are standing in the checkout line, with books in your hand, and I ask 'may I help the next person' because I am the cashier at the time, you have NO Right (as a common decent human being) to tell me to 'hold on, I'll be ready in a minute' while you try to make up your mind about purchasing the language book.

Standing in a line at the cashwrap means (in retail world) that you have now completed your shopping trip and are ready to 'check out'. And once your turn has come (after waiting a few minutes), you are to make your way to the counter, hang me over your items, and me complete the transaction as soon as possible (i am not one for chit chat at cashwrap).

It does not mean that you, and your dumb friends, can linger in front of my register, chatting it up about the book you aren't sure you want to buy, only to tell me to "wait, until I'm ready' when I inquire about how I can help you. You sir, and your douche friends are IN LINE, which means only one of two things: you are about to ask me to help you find a book;to which I will tell you to go to customer service OR you are ready to check out.

That's It. It does not mean that I am your personal cashier, ready to assist you whenever you are ready.

It does, however,mean that I get to talk about you, loudly, (because hey you are there) to the "E-Reader" Guy who has just heard you tell me to 'wait a minute'. It does mean that I get to complain about dumb rude customers and the pains it takes to come to work and deal with them every day. It also means that when you do decide to buy that book, I have every right to tell YOU to wait a minute, while I slowly finishing 'cleaning' up at my register which has all of a sudden gotten soooo dirty.

And while you are entitled to huff and puff all you want as I stall for time, I am once again allowed to tell you to 'hold on just one more minute' while I then call someone else over to ring you up and then proceed to go on my 15 minute break which lasted 25. I'm allowed to do that: as a patient and loving employee of Le Sad Store.

Have A Great Day,

Your Local Sales Associate.

Bad News. Good News.

2011-10-10T19:18:00.002-04:00

So about that interview I went on last week...

I can't believe, I've been so mum about how it went or if I got to the next phase of the interview process. Excuse me and my forgetful news. Good News or Bad News first?

Bad News: I didn't move on to Round 2.

While the interview went really well (on many levels) I was passed up, once again, due to my 'inexperience'. I was spunky, upbeat, enthusiastic and knowledge about publishing. But most of my experience is not job specific and the position they were hiring for (editorial assistant) in the business heavy division (urban planning) needed a candidate able to easily transition in the role. So while I sparkled and dazzled the pants off my interviewer, I received another rejection letter a few days later wishing me luck.

Good News: I have another interview with the same company tomorrow!

Say What? While I did receive one of the most polite rejection letters ever, it was not a full on 'we don't want you' notice. Instead, the Editor I interviewed with said she liked my enthusiasm and personality so much that she passed my resume to the Editor of the Music department whose editorial assistant recently put in his/her two weeks notice.

While nothing was set in stone she did mention that I may hear back from someone in a few days about an interview with said Music Editor. So, I was excited to receive a call on Friday from the publishing company asking me to come in for another interview (for a different job of course).

Round 1.5, I've been calling it.

The interview is tomorrow afternoon and I am pumped and a little nervous. Hunting for a job is taxing on the soul. Every rejection is like a kick to your ego. When I graduated from college a couple of years ago, I thought I'd have a job immediately. I mean, I'm smart. I'm educated. I am capable. I'm a generally well rounded, even tempered gal. Three years later, after being told 'i don't have enough work experience' 'i should take more internships' 'i need a better background in xyz' you can kind of feel like four years of college was a waste.

I can't get a job because i don't have work experience. But I can't get real life work experience if no one will hire me. Job hunting sucks and until I get one I will have to work my way around rejection.

So tomorrow is huge. The editor did not have to pass my information along to anyone. But she saw something in me outside of my 'inexperience' to help me in my job hunt.

I've done enough research for tomorrow to be prepared (and ask interesting questions) but i'm trying to remain calm in order to let my enthusiasm and passion come through. All I need is for ONE person to believe I can do the job and I am a shoe in for a nice entry level position. Fingers crossed that that one person is sitting across from me tomorrow. I'm ready to begin a new phase in my life and put the hassle of job hunting and bookstore slaving behind me.

The Simple Life:

2011-10-06T11:43:00.004-04:00

Things I'd like to do today (but can't because i have to be at work in an hour):

Call out from work

watch daytime television and dumb talk shows

take a very long cat nap

make lunch: pasta, Alfredo and a lot of Parmesan

dance to 90's alternative music

take another very long cat nap

watch something campy on netflix: a horror classic or an unfunny comedy

continue the collage I've started

eat cheesecake

thumb through the book i can't seem to finish (the grief of of others)

watch x-factor

take more pictures of the moon

watch nickelodeon: 90's edition

fall asleep

dream sweet dreams

wake up

repeat.

Booksellers Lament

2011-10-02T18:26:00.003-04:00

Dear Crazy Customer,

I couldn't care less that we don't have the magazine you read religiously, every month, on our shelf. It is not my problem, or honestly my issue, that you think our store has some secret agenda to make you shop elsewhere. I understand that you shop here EVERY day( i know because I see you. every. fucking day), and can NEVER find the items that you want. If we carried every magazine in the whole entire world, well we'd be a warehouse or Amazon.

The moment I sign out for the day, and put on my jacket and scarf, I am not a property of the store. Which means that while you can (but shouldn't) stop me on my way out the door, after a grueling eight hour shift, to bitch and complain and raise your voice to the point that everyone thinks you are yelling at me, to inform me that we, once again, don't have a particular item you wanted in the store..... I have every right to tell you to Go Fuck Yourself and shop somewhere else.

Well, that's what I'm allowed to say because I'm not on the clock anymore. Evident by the lack of name tag, interest in talking to you, and cell phone in my hand. But because I was too polite to say GO FUCK YOURSELF aloud , suggesting you shop somewhere else was totally in my means. Even if it was to get you the hell out of my face. Also suggesting that you find a store that meets your shopping needs was the bitchy way of telling you your mental and emotional needs need tending to before anything else.

Because why else would you stop me as I am mere inches from the exit, and freedom, to trouble me with an issue that doesn't concern me anymore? Did it look like I cared that we didn't have your magazine in stock? Hell, did the fact that i put on my headphones, not give you a hint that i was no longer interested in talking to you?

Of course not. Because not only are you crazy but you're an idiot that's why. And because you think those of us who work at Le Sad Store have a cot in the back where we sleep (because naturally we don't have lives outside of the store) you continued to 'talk loudly' as I nodded my head in disbelief.

You better be glad, the manager (who saw i was in some what of a pickle), came over to ask if you needed any help. You better be glad that my interview on Friday went sorta really well. And that I get this second interview you can bet my ass I am going to ace the hell out of it to get the hell away from customers like you. Because my patience of steel was beginning to give way after listening to you for 5 minutes.

I was, in all honesty, about to unleash a very unladylike verbal assault on your ears that would begin and end with me telling you, in not so pleasant words, that the next time you stop me for help and I am not clocked in, I will unleash the last three years of pent of frustration from dumb ass customer much like yourself from my little but expletive filled mouth . AND that if you EVER raise your voice to me, I will personalize find the magazine you want, make you buy it, and tell you to shove it up your ass.

Now, Have A Nice Day.

From,

Your local Sales Associate at Le Sad Store.

Here We Go Again

2011-09-28T10:54:00.002-04:00

I have an interview this Friday with a publishing company looking for an editorial assistant and while I am very excited about this new opportunity all i have been saying since I found out is.... 'here we go again'.

Don't me wrong, I am totally excited that a month after one of the worst interview experiences EVER, i have another job prospect on the horizon. It a nice editorial job that pays well over my asking price with a reputable company that deals with academic, nerdy, scholarly text (which I find interesting). But the part of me that is excited is only meet with the other side of me that knows this will be another 'i really need this job, I hope they offer me the position, please don't let this be another disappointment' couple of weeks.

I feel like i have enough publishing knowledge to talk about books and the market and my interest in their publishing house with out a problem...but I am seriously so burnt out from this job hunting experience (and interviewing process) that I feel a little off my game this week. Hell a lot off my game. And I am seriously considering taking a small, two week, break from applying to jobs just so I can regroup and gain the energy again to put myself out there.

On Monday I woke up with another huge ass spider bite on my arm, that was red and swollen and an eye sore to everyone at work. Because I spent last week in physical pain (felt like i had the flu) and Monday with an itchy arm, I've been on meds to restore my body to a functioning being again. Instead the effect has not been great; I feel sleepy, cranky, lethargic and besides myself with how drained I am. I wish I could take a week off from things for a while and just lounge in my room all day and sleep.

But life seems to be in motion suddenly. I am no longer at the starting line waiting for the whistle or shot to fire. Things are happening and actions need to be made from all angles and I have no other choice but to get out of this weird funk and be a part of the changes happening around me. Recently everything has felt so exciting and scary at the same time, and I wish i was in a better mood to handle it all.

I simply need to be able to handle it all.

I've already picked my interview outfit(because in the last three years I have acquired enough pieces where I don't have to buy anymore business clothes) and printed out all the necessary documents. I'm preparing enough to ask relevant questions about their company and the position being offered. And if all else fails and things don't go as well as I wanted (because that too is a possibility), I have mapped out a route to the nearest bakery in walking distance to their building.... that sells tasty cupcakes for me to buy.

Oh yeah, I'm a girl who knows how to prioritize.

Weekender

2011-09-25T09:35:00.007-04:00

By the hammer of Thor I got Saturday off and don't have to be at work today until six o'clock today:which in all honesty is sort of like having all of Saturday and Sunday off. Thank gawd.

With all the hanging out, texting friends(why doesn't anyone actually talk on the phone anymore?), trips to the city and spending, what seems to be, all my money around town, having the weekend completely and utterly to myself is....refreshing.

I am struggling to find the balance between the part of me that likes being around people and having a great time and the other part of me that cannot survive without 'alone' time. The part of me that would some days rather stay home, alone ,with my music and books than out and about with people.

It's so weird how all of a sudden the social life has begun to fall into play. I have people who generally want to hang out with me and instead of shrugging them away 'um, no, i have other things to do' I've been trying really hard to put aside my primitive fears of socialization and engage in production and fun interactions with people. I realize that this has a lot to do with feelings of abandonment from Marie. I now completely understand why people rebound so quickly after a long relationship. You want to prove, to yourself/that person, that you were worth the relationship, i.e 'look at all the people lining up to be with me now that you're out of the way'.

The dissolution of Marie friendship has been a lot harder on me than I expected. For the last two months there has been complete silence from her, which is not completely unusual to be honest. We use to go three months without talking to one another in college. I'd get a phone call or text message out of the blue and we'd pick up right where we ended our last conversation. I quickly adjusted to my new role in our friendship post high school; while she flourished in college with her friends, and boyfriend and academic life I settled into my role as the one with not too much going on. The painful shy, anxious friend who would always be there when she decided to resurface and talk.

But after college, our roles sort of leveled out. We are both in our mid 20's, struggling to figure out what we want to do with our lives. She doesn't really speak to anyone from her college years and because I never had a lot of friends in college, we bonded over our shared sense of isolation and yearning to make connections with people. Our friendship, save a few rough patches, has been stronger than ever these last three years. She was the only person, outside of my mother, who I relied on for support and comfort.

But of course, when Marie started hanging out with this new guy from work, I knew that our friendship would suffer because past experience have proven that Marie will ditch me when a boy comes around. I don't even want to bring up the fact that when she started dating in college, she pretty much bailed on our friendship. Her phone conversations were always about him to the point where I had to tell her that she had a tendency of bringing him until all our conversations. What made it worse was that she was convinced her boyfriend and I needed to be friends. When I did go home and visit her on campus, it was never just to hang out with her. There was always this attempt, from her end, to have me hang out with her and her boyfriend which always ended with me feeling sad and isolated.

So while I didn't agree with her hanging out with new married man with two children, and spending all of her weekends with him out and about without his wife around, I was most anxious about this marking the end of our three year post grad friendship. That with this new dude around, my phone buddy and confidant would get all so caught up in the attention of a man to be a friend to me. Because all the signs were pointing to it. We couldn't get through a conversation without her mention his name. "I like him" "but not in that way you know" "he's married, I'm establishing boundaries" "I think I'm just crushing on him out of loneliness and because he's showing me attention"

And two months later my fears have been confirmed. Whether they are now having some torrid affair at work or just hanging out, Marie has disappeared. I've called her phone, sent her texts, tried to reach her via email....and I've gotten no response back. And in doing all of this I have felt like the hapless, pitiful girl pinning for attention from someone who doesn't want her anymore. I mean i have been friends with Marie since I was 12 years old. She is, really, the only link to my middle school and high school past. And as a person who hangs on so tightly to the past, not being her friend anymore feels like a death.

My last attempt to reach her was two weeks ago when me and 'cute boy from work' went to the city. I was anxious and nervous and on the verge of a panic attack and I needed someone to talk to. Boys make me nervous, even friendly ones from work. My first instinct was to call Marie(so she could calm me down or talk me out of it), but as I went to press her number, I realized that she was no longer the person I could reach out to. So I sent her a text, a short one, saying that this would be my last attempt to reach her. That i hoped she was okay and having a fun time wherever she was and that if we never spoke again I wanted to wish her well.

I'm done reaching out to someone who obviously doesn't want to be contacted. And I don't want to be that girl who is letting all these connections with people pass me by due, in part, to loyalty to Marie. I am not saying that she has in any way stopped me from fully becoming friends with people here. But for a while her long distance friendship was enough for me. Sure I still hung with a few people from work, but I was okay turning down invitations because Marie was there, always on the other end, to feed into my fears that the people I was around weren't necessarily the friends I'd envisioned.

But with Marie's absence I realized I may have been wrong. I've had a blast these last few weeks going to museum and having lunch with people. I mean "james franco' and I went to the city and geeked out to camera gear.And Kat and I went to Brooklyn and shopped for brownstones we could never afford on streets with pretty name. And maybe I am reaching out to people but I feel left in the dust and without a friend nearby to talk too but in a way it has helped me put myself out there and interact with people I would have normally shrugged away.

But it still remains difficult for me to not be quiet girl. Because even though people are lovely they are all so exhausting at the same time. I love being around my new found friends and having a good time and making the connections I was unable to do in school but my need for solitude is as important as my need for interactions. And while the last few weeks have been simply amazing (there is something about sitting next to a very cute introspective boy in a pizza shop that I am not able to explain) I feel as if I have had little time to myself. And it is making me anxious.

The activities that keep me sane have fallen to the wayside (reading, writing (especially on this journal and grilled cheese), library trips and tending to my room) and it makes me feel overwhelmed and like I am losing a pivotal part of myself necessary for survival. And after a fun day in Brooklyn I got really (really) sick to the point where I had to call out from work Wednesday. When I am sick I am overly emotional and inconsolable. My thoughts run rampant because mentally I am too tired to keep my irrational thoughts at bay. I was suppose to go to the city with Blue and friends this weekend but plans went downhill fast and I, and pretty much every one excluding Blue, ended up bailing.

I felt bad for not wanting to go. A part of me bailed because I didn't feel well and the other because I wanted to have Saturday to myself. Having to tell Matt this was more complicated than I wanted it to be and it ended with him saying 'well, disappointed doesn't explain how I feel right now'. I felt like I'd let him down because while I want to be the person who can just do things without a second though. And honestly, that is what I have felt the past few weeks, unable to handle what everyone expects from me as a now present Beckett.

And trying to find the balance who I am internally (and introverted, delicate, simple girl) and a the socially present me is more difficult than I thought. I have days where I'd just like to crawl back into the shell where I was the only residence and stay there for a very long time. But then I think about college and how lonely it was in my shell. I remember the nights I spent crying because I wanted to make connections with people and was not strong enough to do so.

On Thursday, I felt very weepy and overwhelmed by the direction my life is taking, which ended with me curled up in a ball in my bed listening to Sufjan Stevens. I'm beginning to think the root of my anxiety has a lot to do with the fact that I am a people pleaser (which is why i use to limited the amount of connections i made with them). I want to fit into a million and one different roles for the people in my life that I sometimes forget the essentials of breathing.

I'm a conflicted, conflicted girl who must find the balance to create a desire for harmony and happiness and never knew i desired. I didn't think it'd be this hard though.

This week, I've decided to spend tend to my introverted needs. I don't think I've been to the library in weeks and would really like to lounge around at home, with my cat, and read a lot of books. And plus with fall just around the corner, I want to bake apple tarts (and other desserts) and decorate (um, clean) my room. I am going to be a little selfish with my time this week, just so i can rejoin the world and my friends again.

Hopefully the awesomeness that was this weekend is an indication of how the rest of my week will go.

The New Girl.

2011-09-21T21:37:00.002-04:00

I've just spent the last hour crying. Good Job, Beckett.

I am sort of overwhelmed with by my life lately. Marie has all but abandoned me, my social life is becoming a complicated web of boys, friends and money spending. And to top it off I am just plain old confused about life in general and what the hell i am supposed to be making of it.

Some days I read through old posts and wonder where the girl, who only three years ago was a basket case of anxiety and isolation, has gone. I can't believe 'she ever existed some days when I read entries about my lack of communication and inability to fit in. I can't get over the fact that there was a time where my nights were spent contemplating my life of solitude and loneliness. Where the small accomplishments of therapy, writing and sleep sustained me.

I look at who I am now, and the life I am leading and I am completely and utterly at a loss. I feel different. Stronger some days, more verbal, less scared maybe even a little braver. I mean, I hung out with the boy who looks like James Franco last Monday. Me, of all people. I couldn't even talk to Art Boy in college and there I was, spur of the moment, in the city with the hottest boy at our store.

We talked about art and life and our goals in the near future. We ate pizza in a small shop nearby and told everyone we ran into that we were NYU students. We sat in a park near union square and then took pictures of cool buildings as the sun came down.

And then, I headed to Brooklyn a few days later, and had a blast buying books and being social with Kat from work. I've put my past jealousy aside and found a friendship in her that is new and refreshing. We spent the whole day pretending like we were Brooklyn locals just hanging about on the weekend. I didn't get home til late in the evening and can honestly say I haven't had that much fun in quite some time.

But I don't think I am balancing a social life with the job hunt and other quarter life worries well. Everything feels so much more external. People are wanting more of my time that I feel like I don't have any moment to myself. I almost got in a near screaming match with a girl from work, who thinks we are the best of friends, because she was insulted I didn't hang out with her on the same day I went to Brooklyn. She literally said 'you aren't really prioritizing your time with friends well, are you?' and I was so freaking offended.

She invited me to watch Wrestling at her house with a mutual friend the same day, and an hour after, I told her I was going to a Book Expo this sunday. I told her I would see how the day went and come over if I had the time. Of course, I was having so much fun, I didn't want to leave early to head to some girls house I don't really like to watch wrestling. So I sent her a text, saying I wouldn't be able to make it, and she (and mutual friend) have been giving me grief all week about. Sulking and Huffing and damn near calling me a "Betrayer".

And I got so freaking upset about it last night because I am not even a huge fan of all these social activities. Sure I am having fun, and making friends, and hanging on to the words that come out of cute boys mouths but People are exhausting. And every time I make an effort to hang out with them I feel depleted and craving a more simple and intimate existence.

I feel like I don't have the time (or sometimes) energy to catch my breath in the silence anymore. I am an suddenly, inexplicably, being pulled in so many direction to the point where I am tearing at the seams. It's as if I am on the precipice of a million and one different outcomes and it is terrifying that I don't know who I eventually want to be or how to find the balance between my introversion in a very extroverted world..

More so, the crying spell has so much to do with me feeling like I am losing grip on who I am as a person. How do you maintain your sense of identity when everyone around you expects things from you? Am I moving so far away from who I was only three years ago? Are the changes in me positive? I just don't know. And tonight, of all nights, I just felt overwhelmed. Like I wish I was that girl again who spent her nights contemplating life with sufjan stevens and lessons from my therapy sessions rather than the one who everyone expects time from.

I feel like I don't know who I am anymore and it makes me incredibly anxious and sad tonight.

Brooklyn!

2011-09-19T00:08:00.003-04:00

Spent the day in Brooklyn for a Book Expo downtown.

And I must say, this Borough has stolen my heart. I didn't think the city could ever be this green.

I have a lot more pictures and of course things to write about but sleep is near and I don't think I can keep my eyes up any longer.

Until Tomorrow

Beckett

Oh, Boy...

2011-09-12T20:57:00.003-04:00

....You will be trouble. I can tell already.

~Beckett.

What the Hell Am I Doing?

2011-09-12T14:38:00.003-04:00

So if your very cute, though young (almost 20), co-worker asks you to hang out in the city with him for an afternoon of photo taking and window shopping (for camera things) what do you do?

You agree to go right?! I mean it's just hanging out. That's what normal people do. Normal people hang out with other normal people and don't suffer from huge anxiety about it right.

The kid who looks like James Franco asked me to go to the city today. Just for a quick run to some camera shops and maybe street food. Normally I would have said NO. That I have something else to do. But with Maria all but ditching me and our friendship (she hasn't contacted me in six week despite my attempts to call and text her) I am yearning for some friends.

I hate being the girl with nothing to do. While I value and love my solitude I want the option to hang out with people. To be a part of a group some days. And while a part of me would rather lounge around all day in my pj's I know that bailing on 'James Franco' would be wrong.

As a co-worker, I generally like him. Our conversations are easy and we seem to get along. I do have a tendency of feeling a lot older than him though at 25. He is so youthful and full of optimism that I have to shake my head some times at things he says (or the dumb tattoo of 'live life to the fullest' that he has on his arm).

But the introverted part of me needs to experience things more. I need to branch out from my cave every once in a while and say hi to the world. And while I have been repeating 'what am i doing, what am i doing, what the hell am I doing' all day, another part of me is excited for a chance to just hang out with someone for a while.

A very cute someone at that.

Hopefully this goes well.

The Rum Diary.

2011-08-30T22:44:00.002-04:00

Jeepers Creepers remind me to never take a shot of rum...ever again.

I don't even know how to explain the last few days or weeks. And the fact that I am a tad bit tipsy is either going to make my feelings about everything sound really profound or dumb when I read this in the morning.

As I expected I did not get the job that I interviewed for two weeks ago. Hell, the fact that I didn't even send a thank you email and letter put a nail in that coffin. But it doesn't mean that i am still not utterly frustrated about my situation.

School for most undergrad and grad students started this week and every time some one comes in asking for a text book we don't have, a little piece of me aches. I still have no idea if I want to ever go to grad school but the more time I spend in the real world the more convinced I am that I don't have any skills outside of being book smart.

I seem to be an un-hirable person. I can't even get an interview for a receptionist job these days. What makes it worse is that Blue and I went on an interview the same week and he actually got the job he applied to. Even though this was his first interview out of college, ever, he managed to get the position with a company specializing in optic lens or something.

And I know that I have no interest in lens or manufacturing or eye wear(?!). I mean he has told me what he is going to be doing there a billion times and I still can't describe his title accurately, but nonetheless Blue is leaving. Come Tuesday he will no longer be an employee at Le Sad Store and that has brought up deep feelings of jealousy and resentment.

One of the first things he said to me when he found out he got the job was 'so, when are you going on your next interview' as if suddenly the struggle of job hunting had completely been eradicated from his mind. I may have shot him a really dirty look after I congratulated him on this new gig.

And while I applied to six or seven jobs last week, I have felt too tired and depleted to do so the last two days. Irene, on my side of town, turned out to be a ball of gusty wind and rain and while I got to stay home on Sunday (we actually closed the store) I have had little energy to do anything but sleep since then. I think I am getting sick. I fear I am becoming depressed. Whatever the case i feel as if i am coming apart at the seams from sheer frustration and angst.

It doesn't help that my main venting partner (marie) has all but ditched me. We got in an argument a few weeks ago because she befriended a married w/children gent at her job and I found the nature of their relationship weird. I don't mind that he's married, I don't mind that he had kids but I found it weird that he would take such an interest in hanging out with a girl 15 years his junior. Not only that but they talk about sex, love and relationships (a lot) as if he is just a single guy.

To make matters worse, they spend a lot of time hanging out without his wife or kids around. And she said that once they had a really inappropriate conversation in the car about coworkers having sex. He also sent me messages via facebook and text in order to better understand the nature of marie and I's friendship. My last correspondence with her had a lot to do with the fact that I didn't appreciate him calling my phone to ask me questions about marie. That I don't like strange married men sending me messages on facebook and that as a father of two children he should have better things to do than text me in the afternoon.

We haven't talked since then (roughly a month) and while she can really get under my skin, it's weird not having some one to express my frustrations with verbally. And now, more than ever, as everything seems to be changing around me I kind of wish I had a voice to talk to on the other end of the phone. I suddenly wish I weren't such a lone ranger.

To compensate for Marie's abandonment, I've been hanging out a lot with people from work in order to fill some of my down time. Applying to jobs and fretting all day can put me in a worse mood than not being able to find steady employment. So i am doing my best to balance a social life with career opportunities.

In an attempt to be social tonight we all went to a bar after checking out Don't Be Afraid of the Dark (kinda crappy but whatever it was six bucks) and Blue tagged along for his sort of celebratory hang out. We all decided to buy shots because the mood seemed right and we were pretty jovial.

I downed my first, and damnit last, rum over the sound of Blind Melon's No Rain. Every time I hear that song I get all kinds of sad. The song conjures up the image of the sad girl in the bumble bee outfit, mulling about around town all sad and depleted. And sure at the end she is all dancing in a field of sunflowers (and other bumble bees) accepting the things that aren't readily changeable in front of her, but she is resigned to happiness eventually.

I have not of course gotten there yet. Instead I feel like sweet bumble bee girl just as she is laughed off staged. Just as she is making her exit from the cruel bright lights of the real world. I am humble and out of sorts and teary eyed and I am simply trying to make sense of where I am suppose to go from here. And maybe this is just the beginning of my extraordinary life that I am making, but it still feels painful from time to time.

This could all be the Rum talking. I apologize. I don't know how Hemingway, Thompson and Kerouac did it. I guess I'm just not that kind of writer.

Can't wait to read this shit in the morning.

Beckett.

Irene is Coming....

2011-08-27T10:06:00.003-04:00

...and Le Sad Store will remain open.

Despite the warnings, and the four people who have already called out days in advance for the storm, we will stay open the whole damn weekend.

Because even when the wind and rain come crashing through New York some asshole will still want to head to Le Sad Store for a Venti coffee while he/she glances at a magazine they won't buy.

I hate my life.

Unpaved Road.

2011-08-20T09:35:00.003-04:00

Now that I have some time to myself (I don't have to be at work until 7 tonight) it's about time I describe the interview I went to Monday afternoon.

Oh, where to begin.

As you may know I was uber excited about Monday's interview. It seems that every time I get an opportunity to leave Le Sad Store I am filled with so many different emotions. Anxiety, Excitement, Apprehension, Glee and Terror.

It has a lot to do with the fact that come September (unless I find a job in the next two week or so) i will be embarking on my 3rd year at Le Sad Store. Three years of crappy customer service and in store plays, three years of helping people buy books that they don't want to read and giving the stank eye to teenagers.

Time flies and I know this best of all. When I moved to New York I had no intention of being a bookseller for three years. The first couple of months I was adamant that I would be on the fast track to a job, stability and maybe even an apartment (with a cat named Jack). Hell, I spent more time then contemplating my exit strategy than I do now.

The first few months were frustrating because the bulk of my internal dialogue was very self righteous. I can't even recount the countless conversations I had with my mom that began and ended with 'I'm better than this, i can't do this job anymore, what the hell am I doing with my life" complaints. The only difference now is that instead of complaining about my situation I have, for quite some time, been making an effort to get a new job. I feel as productive as ever about my job search but am continually disappointed with the results.

And I know (I know) the economy is bad. No one is hiring. My situation is not unusual. But it doesn't stop me from feeling pangs of jealousy towards the people around me who have landed gigs since I have been at Le Sad Store. Like Jenn (the girl who wanted me to move in with her) who is now working at some immigration law firm. Or the utterly boooooring Pamela, who recently graduated but got a job in mental health counseling and now may have a job in the city (via her facebook announcement). Even dumb funny Ryan, who was fired from the store a year ago for showing up high on a regular basis, is now selling life insurance in the city while he attends Columbia University.

And plenty other people have come and gone too: Evan, Ana, Erin, David, Paul, Kristina, Rachel. And every time someone else leaves it makes me feels as if the effort i'm putting in isn't one at all.

And it doesn't matter that I have NO interest in doing any of the jobs they've all landed. My jealousy stems more from them getting out of Le Sad Store rather than them finding (un)desirable employment. But it still makes me feel very frustrated. As if my attempts aren't really attempts at all because I've seen so little results.

And honestly, I just don't know how many more career books I can buy or interview suggestions I can read online. I already have a pile of job related books taking up space in my room that I am desperate to get rid of. I am completely and utterly over searching for a job but I don't have a choice but to keep trudging. I don't have any other choice but to wake up, go to work, try not to curse someone out and sleep so I can do it all over again.

But If I have to run into any more ex-employees of Le Sad Store who drop by just to see how 'we' are holding up I might just barf. This is literally making the job search unbearable and my time at Le Sad Store more heartbreaking. Ever so often someone who use to work there will stop by and want to chat and discuss old times. Of course they never are there to shop for books, it's always 'oh, i was in the area' thought I'd stop by to see who was left...to see if anything changed'

And of course I am there to remind that nothing has changed at all, not even me.

So when I was contacted for an interview from the Vice President of what I thought was a 'really cool' production/distribution company I was elated. I haven't had an interview since March and that one sort of left me feeling crappy. I spent more time defending myself as a bookseller than explaining why my experience in book publishing (including sales) would be transferable to a literary agency.

He actually told me that the position would be 'a leap' for someone in my situation. That going from book sales to a job within a literary agency was 'a little impractical'.

And while I shot back hard "I wouldn't call it an impractical leap. This isn't a leap, from say, working in medicine and then deciding one day that I want to pursue a career in publishing. I am versed in all areas of publishing from book sales to editorial and production. It's more of a transition to an appropriate area than anything else', he has now being the voice of doubt in my head

Sometimes I still hear his voice telling me that I cannot do this, that I should consider being a bookseller for good. I hear his voice and it beats down my confidence (though I know one day it will give me strength) with his stupid assertions. I still have fears, if you can call them that I am unqualified for things. From receptionist jobs to even sales associate things, I am consumed with unwavering fears that I am only book smart and nothing more.

And yeah, i've gotten some interviews and made some impressions but I am still at Le Sad Store and miserable. And I worry that it is because I am starting to believe what he said may be true.

But thoughts only consume me 5% of the time. I push them away as much as I can. I continue to apply and commit myself to finding better employment. And when I was invited in for an interview I was prepared to rock it. F*ck _____ Literary Agency and their dumb insensitive totally off the mark boss.

I found the opening for this job on a site that I frequent often. They are pretty good resource for me because the jobs are related only on the creative field. 3 out of the 4 interviews I have gone on have been from using this job site and they post listings from huge organization to smaller but still reputable agencies.

From the description of this job I knew I was a little unqualified. The opening was for a Sales Coordinator with a television distribution company that I have never heard of but was excited to pursue regardless. I researched their website before sending off my cover letter and resume was all sorts of excited about the opportunity to join an company where my sales background would be an asset rather than a questionable work experience. And from the description it seemed like a role I could grow in with a company well know internationally.

Outside of preparing for Sales Related questions, I bought a nice skirt and shirt to complement my new found confidence. I looked all sort of professional the morning of and even had some industry related questions to ask.

And this is where things fell to shit. But not on my part.

The moment I get to the interview I am quickly struck by how small the office is, if you can even call it that. It is literally a small loft with a partition creating an extra office space. It was as if someone rented out a room in a really expensive building to make as their own personal studio. And because I am use to working in Sales I quickly noticed how little room there was to conduct any of the Sales related job responsibilities posted in the ad.

In fact, there wasn't room for more than three people to work out of the office.

Don't worry. This was not a sketchy 'oh shit I've just walked into a really scary situation' scenario but this was definitely not the thriving, exciting, distribution company I imagined in my mind. Furthermore this was not the team oriented, fast paced, sales environment I applied to. Turns out, the distribution company is tiny (only 65 employees work for the whole damn company;throughout 5 countries) and the Sales Coordinator position was really a 'Personal Assistant' gig to a newly formed division of the company. The guy, who actually is the vice president, works out of a small office in midtown Manhattan where he is the sole operator of the office.

The job would encompass everything but Sales including 'you see that broom in the corner' 'yes' 'I'd need someone to sweep up every once in a while too'. Not only was I unqualified for the position (not the sweeping part but the 'I need but the person I hire for this job to be my right hand man' 'meaning' 'if i were to get hit by a bus while i were away on business, i would need you to run this office as if you were me' 'well, lets hope you don't get run over by any buses soon'.

The main issue with the whole interview was that I wasn't even interviewing for the damn job I applied to online. There was no Sales Team or thriving, fast paced environment. There was no opportunity for growth or working in a group setting. Instead it was a solitary, all encompassing, 'i need someone who doesn't need training' situation. Which wasn't at all what he describe in the job description.

This wasn't even a situation where I felt like I'd blown the interview. He obviously stretched the truth on the job site about the job title and because I walked in having all of my Sales knowledge present I was not prepared to answer anything about film distribution. While I have never been on a blind date I can only equate my interview on Monday to one. We didn't click. There was no connection and I sort of wanted it to be over so I could go home (or go to the Moma with Heather as I ended up doing).

It was a hot mess. When I got in the elevator I was consumed with...laughter. The whole thing was absurd. He'd wasted my time, by posing the job as a Sales Coordinator position when it turned out to be everything but, and I'd wasted his by not knowing anything about Film Distribution or the company.

I am not sad that this did not work out. In fact, I even went against business etiquette by not sending him a thank you email and letter. I refused to extend any gratitude after his false advertisement. It is not a job I would ever want to do for so many reasons, and for him to obviously stretch the truth to get more applicants to apply was a little shady.

But I am sad that I am back at square one. That I am back in line to search for new and better employment. I don't know what else I can do to find a job. I just don't. And at this point I am doubting the road I am on because thus far it has lead me nowhere.

I did end the day on a high note though. Heather and I made plans to hit up the Moma and then Dylans Candy shop in the city after my interview. And let me tell you it was the relief I needed after that horrible mess of a job interview. We had a blast walking around midtown Manhattan and taking pictures. The Moma turned out to be an exciting place of contemporary art and a Post Secret exhibit. And Dylan's candy. Well, need I say more. It was three floors of candy, candy, candy and a bakery on the third floor. I'll try to upload the pictures later on this week.

So yeah, back at square one. I've applied to some literary agency's this week and hope to hear something back from one or two of them. My spirits aren't down but am very tired of the search. It feels like am a directionless and that is possibly the worst feeling ever.

Ack, It's Monday!

2011-08-15T08:19:00.003-04:00

Sooooo my interview is today. Holy crap I'm a bundle of nerves.

Yesterday at Le Sad Store was absolutely hectic and crazy. Despite torrential rain and looming thunderstorm people were at the store as if we were going out of business. The moment I walked in I couldn't helped but feel swamped by the amount of people crowding the aisles and cafe.

When I finally clocked in, I found out that three people called out and that we would be short staffed the whole night. Because the interview for today is scheduled a lot later than I am use to having them (mid afternoon, instead of early morning) I have contemplated whether to call out from work interview day (today) instead of coming in.

I mean, I rarely called out and I have gone to interviews before with work just hours away. I decided that I would get to work on Sunday and see how I felt. Sunday would determine whether I would want to go in; especially with a six day work week (because Evil Manager is a...evil manager).

Needless to say, I am calling out today. Yesterday was dreadful and I may have cried in an aisle. The three people who called out did so because of a party they were all attending ( i know, because they told me via texts) and combined with the state of the store and the mood of customers I quickly decided that I would call out today. Yeah, it ain't happening. After my shower, I hope I'll have a better excuse (stomach ailments) for this Interview/Bueller Day.

Outside of the disaster that was last night, I am completely excited about the interview today. I feel confident and spiffy (a tad bit nervous) and just plain excited to talk about my awesomeness to the HR Manager. This job is amazing and the company is too, and for once I feel like everything I have learned in the last three years will translate well in this sales position.

It is raining something awful outside but I will take it as a good sign. Heather and I have plans after the Big Interview to grab cupcakes and walk around the city (hence the bueller day) with two prospective new jobs at our fingertips.

I haven't been this excited in a very long time! I am so ready to take control of my life and this job will be the first step in doing so.

Ack! Time to get ready.

Butterfly Stomach.

2011-08-12T07:52:00.003-04:00

It's Friday and I have a lot to do.

Now that I have had a a few days to digest, dance because of, freak out on and silently pray about my interview I am slowing putting everything together before 2pm Monday afternoon.

In an exciting turn of events Blue and Heather also got interviews next week, making August a hell of a lot more exciting than I could have ever imagined. At 25, the bulk of my conversations with friends involves our fears and anxiety about stability or rather our lack of it. Some of us, simply want to be able to um, have crappy entry level jobs that will at least get us into the career world.

Blue sent me a text the other day that he'd gotten an interview and was both nervous and excited about it. I of course then had to admit that I too had an interview and was (am) feeling the same sort of general worries.We spent the bulk of the day trying to hype each other up: "we can do this", "we are smart and intelligent" "we have the experience" "go team, go" before wishing each other luck.

The thought of leaving Le Sad Store is all consuming. While I prepare to answer questions about why I am qualified and damn well good enough for this job, the me who thinks a million and one steps ahead of where I am, can't get thoughts of financial stability, weekends off and not having to deal with ashats at Le Sad Store out of my head. This week, evil manager, once again told us that hours will be slashed if we don't sell enough members benefit cards but she is still hiring new people in a few weeks to compensate for the lack of man power we have on the floor.

Complete bullshit.

I am wearing thin at Le Sad Store. All of my resources are being used to the point where I don't have any said up for my own happiness. Next week, I am working 6 days, all closing shifts, because Evil manager is an idiot. Unless you have a position within the store that requires you to be there in the morning (shelving, newsstand, receiving) the only hours available are closing shifts. And I hate closing. I hate having to usher people out of the store because they ignored the closing damn made 15 minutes before close. I then hate having to clean up after people and straighten shit and getting home around midnight on a Monday.

I've been at Le Sad Store for so long, I feel like a captive who dreams of what freedom would look like...on a daily basis. And at 25, it simple consists a job that is demanding, challenging where I can establish professional experience. It is of having an office desk, an office extension, oh and money to spend on cooking and writing things.

I was so defeated after the last interview because he made me feel like I couldn't be anything more than a bookseller. But I know I am much more than that. I am smart and savvy and interesting. I am capable of doing so much more.

So yeah, this interview on Monday is a big deal for me because I have the opportunity to alter my living situation and I will have a job that is pretty freaking awesome! My stomach is in all kinds of knots because of this though. I'll have to keep it together until Monday.

I have made a list of things I need to do today, including: buying a new interview outfit, researching the company(outside of what I've already done), running prep interview questions, dancing, getting my resume and references printed on some fine paper and not freaking out.

I have a little money saved to buy a new interview outfit (but still inexpensive) because the suit that I have is very heavy for August and I'd rather not be a sweaty applicant. I want to do a dress skirt, blazer thing that is professional yet light. And what I have discovered is that when I look great, I feel confident. I need to be confident on Monday. I need to have my shit together. I need to sell myself and my ability to do the job. Looking sharp will help!

T-minus three days before the Big Interview. God, I'm nervous. Excited and Scared. I have suddenly become the 25 year old who wants stability over anything else. And I am completely okay with this.

Wish me luck.

Will This Be My Year?

2011-08-09T12:48:00.003-04:00

I just got an interview with the company of my dreams!

Snerks Gerks. I am now nervous and excited. This is my first interview since the disastrous literary agency one (where he pretty much said I should consider being a bookseller, for life) and to say this is a big deal is an understatement.

What to do? What to do? First thing, don't freak out. Secondly, prepare to rock this interview like my life is on the line. No pressure, right?

I scheduled it for this Monday to give me some preparing time. "How to land a job" pointers would be much appreciated as I have not been great in that department.

I'm excited. And freaking out. And pondering what I should wear and say. Oh damn, let the madness begin.

The Walk Of Shame

2011-08-08T19:05:00.005-04:00

Guess who didn't get home until 8:30 this morning. Yeah, this chick and I don't even have a cool torrid story of a passionate night with Sufjan Stevens to thank for it.

I know the term "walk of shame" has little to do with the events I am about to describe but the title seems fitting; especially because I looked all sorts of shame filled as I walked home wearing the same clothes and hair a mess in the wee hours of the morning.

Before I left for vacation I agreed to work a weird overnight shift at Le Sad Store (upon my arrival) because of current renovations taking place there. Apparently this happens ever so often. Planograms come down from corporate as they make changes to Le Sad Store based on the ever changing face of book retail.

I hate that while I work at a bookstore we are constantly reminded, from managers, the people aren't really buying books anymore. Not at Big, Dumb, Bookstores that sell Coffee and Charades next to aisle containing books by James Joyce and Kerouac anyway. Instead, the way 'some' companies are staying afloat has a lot to do with how little books they actually sell. If people aren't buying as many books as they use to, fill the place with other options. Games, stationery, school supplies, oh and did I mention coffee. Before you know it a bookstore looks less like a bookstore and more like a Department store or Target save all the red.

We knew in advance that a big changeover was upon us. Less books, more crap and a month or so of people (who agreed) working overnight shifts to help the 'renovation' without the hassle of customers. Not dealing with customers was the main reason I agreed to work an overnight or two. Thought I've never done one before I figured I could come to work in regular clothes, not deal with customers and spend all night moving things around with friends. How hard could that be.

The answer is: extremely.

I only found out last Tuesday that I would be working an overnight this Sunday and I was a little more nervous than I thought I would be. For one, I am a sleeper. I sleep a lot. I can sleep for 8 hours, take a four nap and still find another 8 hours to sleep when I get home. I am not even sure the math adds up (4+8+8= 20. That can't be right. And yes, I had to use a calculator) but the point is I have a sleep schedule that I am not entirely proud of but that I follow very well and which would be greatly altered with an overnight.

Secondly, the overnight crew has for the past few weeks consisted of six people working a shift. For some reason, this was downgraded on Sunday to three (a one manager) people in 'charge' of greatly altering the landscape of the kids department.

While I was excited to learn that McAbs (memba' him) would be working the overnight with me, I was still a little...apprehensive. From 9pm to 5:30 in the morning I would have to haul ass to complete an entire renovation of the children's department before morning.

I quickly solved the sleep dilemma by sleeping in all day Sunday. I then bought coffee and red bull when I got to work and stored them in the fridge to be consumed only when deemed necessary. The first part of the night went well. I didn't get tired (or cranky) as quickly as I thought I would. The nice manager bought pizza and made cupcakes for us so I was buzzed from greasy pizza and cupcakes. And while I may never be allowed to use a hammer again I didn't break anything worth replacing.

But closing with McAbs (and my other potential work crush; a nerdy guy who forced me to watch Star Wars or threatened defriending me. in life) was not as great as I thought it would be. I have really absurd ideas about relationships due to my lack of substantial ones. While McAbs and I (and to an extend Star Wars dude) continue to have a really weird flirty thing going on, I can't help but weigh the options of what more there could be between us. You know, if he was single and all.

Because I do like McAbs. Not on the same level as I liked Simon but boys are different. McAbs is a handy, smart, sometimes crude guy who makes me laugh and gives great hugs. He has this running joke that I am his 'work' girlfriend in part because we act like we are in a relationship at work. I nag him about being a brute and forgetting to hug me before he leaves and he ....well okay, so he isn't much of faux boyfriend but he gives really great hugs. I'm a sucker for hugs.

But trust me it's completely innocent. I would never put myself in the position for him to take advantage or for me to get my feelings hurt. He does have a girlfriend and i morals so outside being playful it has gone past the Danger Zone (I've been watching a lot of Archer lately. the phrase is permanently stuck in my head)

I am more than open to a healthy relationship with a single, cute and smart boy who is interested only in being good to me. More than ever it's sort of what I want. Everything else about my life is so unstable (money, job, the damn weather) that having a significant other would be nice.

But until then I sort of still live in la-la lands of what if's in the boy department . I still run truly inappropriate scenarios in my mind involving McAbs and kissy face. And yes, I was a tad excited about 'spending the night' with McAbs,for the most part, alone in Le Sad Store where we could interact (and talk) outside of customers and watchful managers. Because outside of him driving me home on occasions I rarely interact with Mcabs outside of work. He lives in a different town, has a girlfriend and other friends. And because I know that I am a different person once my work shoes come off, I kind of wanted to see McAbs for who he is outside of the constraints of work. Though the irony being that we were both at working during my little experiment.

But after last night I don't think I could tolerate McAbs longer than 20 minutes in the 'real world'. Though he is very cute and muscly and green eye-d (sometimes blue) he was a mess of a boy come the last half of our shift. Not only did he eat too much pizza, drink too much coffee and then complain of stomach ailments the rest of the night but he was frustratingly hard to talk to. When he wasn't talking about his 'junk' or what could be done with his 'junk' or why i would enjoy the 'junk' he was irritable and snappish.

At one point he was like 'i don't mean to complain' followed by a complain and all I could do was walk away for his safety and mine. And i know that we weren't in a typical outside of work environment (being at work and all) but we had the luxury of interacting with each other like two people and he was completely an ass.

He also did not look as vulnerable and cute come 3am, which I imagined all boys happen to be, in the morning when the weariness set in. He was just a big, honking, mess of repeated bathroom runs (he really did eat too much) and frustration. Not only that but both boys got kind of antsy when 5:30 rolled around and we still had a shit more things to do in the department. While I was committed to staying until I possibly couldn't the boys were ready to go and the nice manager sent them home instead of listening to them bitch.

As they were leaving, I was in the music department reloading the cd player for when McAbs and Star Wars Nerd asked if they should stay and help. I don't think that's a question you ask when two other people are staying. Hell, I was tired too. But I wanted to complete the project I was there to do AND I didn't want to leave the manager with a hell of a mess on her hands. And for some reason I thought they should have wanted to stay too. You know, to man up and stick it out. But they didn't. So I ignored them both put on some Adele and worked an extra three hours doing as much as I could while Rolling in the Deep played on rotation.

By the time I left it was 8:30, and I was all sorts of rough looking. People on the street looked at me as if I had just had some scandalous evening with a man and I was too tired to even shoot them the 'if you only knew the half of it story'. Yeah, this week is a not a good week for my crush on Mcabs. And my Walk of Shame was uneventful and tiring. I guess it's for the best.

Of course my back (from all the shifting and lifting and curling up in a ball )is a wreck now and I am all sorts of achy. I suppose another shower would help but at this point moving is damn near impossible. I have also not slept in 24 hours, in order to make sleeping a lot easier tonight, and cannot wait until it is bedtime (I imagine I will look something like my cat, pictured above, when sleep rolls around).

Dear Life, please start getting a little more manageable. I would greatly appreciate it.

Introverts Lament

2011-07-31T21:06:00.004-04:00

Good god, today was just...awful.

The next time I have an IT related problem at work remind me not to call Le Sad Store's IT department. Doing so not only put me in the worst moods ever but I seriously had to leave work early in order not to stab someone. Yeah, it was pretty bad.

It seems that my absence was surely missed at Le Sad Store while I was away. After a coming home on Sunday and a much needed rest of Monday I was immediately thrust back into the work grind. The evil manager scheduled me to work six days in a row this week as if to make up for the long week and a half that I was away.

Working six days in a row is just not right, especially coming off a really great and relaxing vacation. But evil manager has a tendency of going around decency because she's evil and doesn't care if working six days in a row will wear you down. She often schedules people to do a clopen (a shift that consists of you closing the store, say a 5 to 11, only to have to work in the morning, say a 10-5) or a double or a six day work week and when you voice concerns about it she'll say something like "well, i do it all the time so suck it up".

Of course when someone says something like this to you a couple of things run through your mind: 'but you're a manager' 'who the hell cares if you've done it before', 'fuck'. I obviously had some concerns about working six days in a row but because I've been gone for so long I didn't want to say anything about having an extra day to myself. I simply and quite disappointingly 'sucked it up' because vacation was truly that amazing and I was fortunate enough to be able to take that many days off without it being an issue.

But oh, how being away can make you forget that people are stupid ashats, especially in retail. In the past six days I've come across a very rude lady from the Midwest ('your store is sooooo messy. this is nothing like the store i frequent where i live), an intolerable 'this is why i shop on amazon' guy and the regulars who don't by anything but constantly ask for help and/or complain about something.

The 'I shop on amazon guy' was especially aggravating because he would not stop telling me about, even though I showed no interest in listening to him, the reasons why our bookstore was going out of business. 'People, just don't buy books anymore' he continued after the 8 minutes of me trying to get him the hell out of the store so I could help someone else. After he said something along the lines of 'I think that's what killed your guys', I had to remind him that BORDERS is the bookstore chain going out of business not Le Sad Store and that people 'including yourself, who just so happens to be shopping in a bookstore today, still read books so Le Sad Store will be okay'.

He shrugged his shoulders (perhaps after realizing that the he'd gotten the bookstore mixed up and his comment that 'people don't buy books anymore' , as he was, er, um, buying books, completely contradicted his initial statement) and said 'well, amazon is still better'.

After five days of dumb questions, stank eyes, and one guy trying to hide the fact that he was reading porn in the medical reference section, I was running on empty. Lack of sleep, lack of patience, lack of ability to focus on anyone or thing. Just last week (or so ago) I was home, with my mom and my brother and three cats, enjoying the silence of the small town living and introverted bliss and am now I back into the bustle and hustle of retail, where I work around people who hate don't seem to like staying home.

The bookstore has become my worst nightmare. I am completely stumped by why people want to spend their weekends (or any day) at the store for long periods of time. From teenagers who detest reading but love Fraps, to grown adults who sit in the the store up until the minute we close, Le Sad Store is a place people come to to hang out in more so than buy books. Sure people love books, and some even buy them but for the most part working in a huge chain store opens your eyes to the real nature of book sales. The industry does not survive from folks like you and me who read books because we love them. The nerdy girls and boys who are very particular about the things we read and buy are not who shop in big chain bookstores.

Instead the 'omg! oprah recommended a new book' or the 'i just saw the movie so I now i must read the story' people are the ones purchasing books. And because every week some jerk on Fox news (no offense) or some critic from the new york times recommends a title, people come out in search of a recommendation they most likely will buy and then not read. This is the true nature of working at a big bookstore. People are sometimes surprised when they ramble a title to us and we don't have to search the computer to find out where it is. I have had several people say 'you must really know your books' and I sadly reply 'no, it's just people keep asking for the same title'.

As a book loving person, this is heartbreaking because I go to bookstores for the sole purpose of finding and buying literature. For me, books need to be discovered. Titles need to find you after a long search. I don't read the new york times to find a great recommendation. I talk to my friends, I search the aisle, I sometimes find a really cool book description in my favorite magazine (GQ, Nylon) which have become trusted sources. Because as a bibliophile, I like thumbing through the aisle in search of a title that catches my eye. I am a huge book nerd who appreciates the quality of readable books rather than mainstream trends (I'm talking about you 'Game of Thrones').

And as an introvert bookstores use to be a place where I could go and look for books and find solace in the quiet atmosphere. But now that I have slaved away in a bookstore, the sense of calm and solace I once felt in the place has all but evaporated. Not all bookstores of course, the small independents ones will always have my heart, but I don't think I will ever shop in a Le Sad Store once I leave. I have seen too many truly horrible things there that makes me think differently about bookstores in general. And when I have to work, lets say on the weekend, I can not for the life of understand why anyone, would want to leave the confides of their home to hang out in Le Sad Store. Why of all the places in the world, you'd want to come to an overly priced, insufficiently stocked place where teenagers crowd the aisles and a diet book is the number 1 bestselling item in the store.

I guess this is why on the weekends, I am in no mood to play nice with strangers. I am very curt and too the point and desperate to get them out of the store as quick as possible. People have a tendency of being much more of a douche on the weekends and I catch myself having to take a breather every once in a while to regain composure. to bit my tongue. to remember that I am a person above all else.

But six days can wear a person down, and today I was just...over it, more than usual. The moment we opened it was one thing after another and after having one of the worst IT experiences ever I asked to go home early. I simply removed my name tag, dropped my work phone in a managers hand and said I was going home. two hours early. screw working six days.

You remember that SNL skit where Jimmy Fallon plays the annoying and self righteous computer guy Nick Burns. I may have gotten him on the phone today and because he wasn't close enough to strangle all I could do was silently cry inside. I've never had to call IT at work before, because I don't deal with any digital e-reader questions, but because people come to customer service instead of the digital service counter located near the cash registers, I sometimes have to field questions as best as I can.

Unfortunately I got a question that was not easy for me to answer and the manager, standing near by, wanted me to call IT support in order to resolve the issue. When I call the IT guy, who talked a mile a minute, he tried to have me explain to two very confused and not tech savvy customers how to resolve their digital issue. That went all to shit quickly.

On one end, I have fucking Nick Burns, sounding very frustrated (he did one of those 'talking through your teeth, closed mouths, exasperated thing) and annoyed that I am not explaining the solution better and on the other end I have a nice, but terribly tech-less, gentleman repeating 'what'd he say, huh, what does that mean, dear he wants to send me an email where, aol, my password is fluffy, say what?'.

It was like the game telephone, I being on the receiving end of two very different descriptions of the same damn message at the same damn time. At one point, I casually drop the phone on Nick Burns and walk away from the very old and confused customer to find a manager. I try to explain to her that someone else has to help, that there is no way I can talk to Nick Burns and the old guy and the help the seven customers now waiting in line. Because she is no help, I eventually decided to revolve the issue by putting 'nick' on the phone with 'old guy' and having them talk it out.

And then, i let the manager know that I was not feeling well and was going home. She let me leave early of course (i wish I would have just walked out), and I then proceeded to spend the next four hours under my covers.I haven't done that in a while.

I just don't think I can do this anymore. I am tired and frustrated and so unhappy at Le Sad Store it hurts. I need there to be some sort of change already. While I am sort of nervous about taking on the responsibility of dare i say, a real job, there is no way I continue at the bookstore unless I want to lose my sanity.

Luckily I have tomorrow off and Heather and I are going to grab lunch and discuss job hunting woes. I haven't hung out with her since the end of May and I am looking forward to being around someone who doesn't work with me. Is it sad that I just got back from vacation and I am in need of another break from things.

Back to the Real World.

2011-07-25T18:31:00.006-04:00

So, vacation is officially over.

I arrived in new york yesterday after 15 hours on an Amtrak train. And I am wiped out.

The older I get the more I enjoy going home for a short period of time. When I lived in the south there was always this internal tension regarding my life there.

I despised everything about living in the south: the people, the slowness, the endless stretch of greenery, the boredom, and silence. I just hated living there. When my mom moved my brother and I down south, it felt as if I'd been expelled from New York. Robbed of the experience of being a teen there.

For the better part of middle school and high school all I could think about was what life would have been life for me if we'd stayed in New York. I, of course, imagined the sort of experience the teen shows of my youth glamorized. A nerdy yet adventure fueled existence in a high school that I liked with friends that were like family.

And all of that dreaming and pondering about what life could have been made me shut any and all southern rendition of that life from happening. And to be honest it will be the one thing I regret about my time in south carolina growing up; that instead of just adapting to my situation and making the best out of it, I sort of shut down as I have a tendency of doing.

I think about this now because come august I will have been in new york for three years. Three years out of college and the safety of my moms home. Three years from the state and region I so desperately wanted to leave. And while, I love living in New York after three years I have in some way reconciled with the south I fled.

Going home is miles different than I thought it would be post graduation. It is a much more rejuvenating and calming. Days before my vacation I was a bundle of nerves because of excitement and anxiety. Traveling has something to do with it, but among all of that I was just ready to go home. To my family and admittedly to South Carolina.

You know when you haven't seen someone in a really long time; an old friend or ex-flame, and you get that weird nervous spell in your belly because there is a history you have had with this person, there are experiences forged to be never forgotten with them. And while the two of you have grown distant and gotten older, changed and are shaped different views, moved on and created something new for yourself, when you see them again you want to be presentable. You want to show yourself off to show growth in the face of something that use to define you.

I don't know if that makes sense. Probably not. But I guess what i'm trying to say that going home will forever be like a reconnecting with an old flame. A meeting and coming to terms with something (or one) that I feel has shaped who I am today. And while our relationship was not always the healthiest, while we both hurt and injured one another out of ignorance and fear, I will always have a bond with 'him'.There will always be a place in some crevice of my being that belongs to South Carolina.

And being home was great. I spent some time in Charleston and at USC with my mom before heading home where my brother and three newly adopted stray cats awaited me. I meet my nephew for the first time, who did not take kindly to the weird girl trying to snap pictures of him. He cried most of the time I was there and I made a promise that our next meeting wouldn't be so traumatic. On either of us.

I visited some old and familiar places; a Dam in Georgia, a state garden and a handful of thrift stores that my mom frequents. I snapped photos along the way, too many to be honest and made my peace with south carolina along the way.

The days sort of flew by and before I knew it my vacation had come and gone. Leaving is always difficult,now especially, that my mom, brother and I are finally at places in our lives when the arguments have stopped and we generally enjoy being around us. Where my brother would once ignore me he was actually authentically happy to see me. He bought me lunch and played the Scott Pilgrim video game with me and when I left he gave me the hugest hug ever.

And it is so weird that only 2 days ago I was in South Carolina sitting in the living room with my brother and mom and now I am in New York struck dumb by the humidly but generally excited to be back. My vacation is over but I have the energy to pick back up where I left off. While I am not happy at all to return to Le Sad Store, I was over the moon to see some of my friends today who all received huge bear hugs.

And maybe it's the vacation high, but I do feel as if things will pick up for me. Because going home has a way of lighting a fire under my butt to make a life for myself work here. Not because I don't want to return to South Carolina but because going home reminds me of my purpose here. That all of this isn't for nothing. That the part of south carolina that has made me who I am will be proud of the things I will do here, miles and miles away from home.

I like feeling optimistic about things.

Now, if I can unpack my suitcase that will be awesome. I brought a lot of things back with me and must find a place to put them. Including a handful of books, like I need anymore books in this room. Tomorrow I start what will be six days straight of work so if I get the mess out of the way now, I won't be bothered by it when I'm too exhausted to do much of anything else.

Back to the Real World I go.

Beckett.

Oh, and i'll uploading some vacation photos here for anyone who wants to take a look.

Vacation

2011-07-17T08:14:00.001-04:00

Yep. Enjoying myself a lot.

Going Home.

2011-07-14T08:22:00.002-04:00

Vacation starts today and in a few hours I will be on a train (planes still freak me out) to South Carolina.

Thank God.

I ended up doing an awful 10 hour shift at le sad store yesterday because some one called out and they needed help on the floor. I asked if I could leave early (for traveling purposes) but my manager pretty much made me feel guilty for wanting to leave...so I stayed.

It was probably the worst decision I've made in the last few days. Yesterday was just dreadful, I mean as soon as I walked in people were panicking and complaining about the workload and the shitty customers. Customers literally make working in retail a billion times worse than it should be. We were backed up with projects to complete in the store, which we never even got the chance to finish because ashats were asking for 'summer reading' books all night.

So naturally I am very excited about heading home. I have general anxieties about traveling in general but I know I when reach South Carolina, all the worries from the last few days will fade away. Writing will be a little light (as it has been for a while, i apologize) but expect a lot of pictures. My mom is taking me to Charleston this time around and I have always found that city so majestic.

Anyway, I have a few more things to do before I head out. I am determined to bring as little things home as possible but that is not going well as I try to squeeze more books in my suitcase. Damn.

~Beckett

Home Has Never Looked So Sweet.

2011-07-07T12:08:00.004-04:00

Good God, I'm home. Should I kiss the floor now or wait until after this post.

I like my house a lot. It's an old colonial style house on the top of a steep hill. When I look outside my window I can see the lights from the center of town to my left as well as the trees from the park nearby to my right. Despite the creaky floors and chipped paint, broken doorknob and rough carpet... I love my house. And for $600/month, this house has been my greatest investment here.

But, I have not slept in my house for past three nights thanks to my aunt and her job. You know those commercials where someone breaks into a picture perfect house setting off an alarm the awakens the picture perfect family and then the screen switches to a concerned representative from the alarm company who calls to make sure that everything is alright at the family's home...well that is what my aunt does. Except, she really just sits around for most of her shift in an office somewhere waiting for something to happen.

She usualy works the morning shift, but thanks to a co-worker quiting at the last minute her job had to move around some schedules this week until they could hire someone to take the midnight shift. This is where I come in. Because my aunt had to work a midnight-8 shift (except friday) and my college aged cousin has to work 7-5 at his summer camp job she had no one to watch Michelle from 7 to roughly 9 o'clock in the morning. And because I am the dependable, responsible relative who loves Michelle to pieces, I was the only person she could ask.

I absolutely adore hanging out with my cousin Michelle. She is a inquisitive, polite, adventurous six year old. We recently saw Judy Moody together (terrible movie) and she eagerly shared her snacks with me to make sure I was comfortable. Recently she picked up the gardening bug and has planted her very first tomato plant. I love this child fiercely as if she were my own, and I have no problems watching her ever. I even asked if my aunt needed me to come over on the fourth to watch michelle and or babysit if necessary. But she said it wasn't so I made other plans.

I wanted this July 4th to be low key this year. I took the day off because I couldn't bear being at work with annoying people. I spent most of the morning talking to my mom on the phone because the 4th will always be a little rough for our family. Three years later and the grief thing is getting...easier, I guess. But His birthday and death will always be...tough, there is no way around it.

Some of my friends were having BBQ's, others were going to hit up bars later on in the day. While I was asked to attend most of these activities, I instead decided to stay home and watch a bunch of British Television shows thanks to Netflix. I love America and being an American but the Brits won on the programming front.

So when my phone rang as I was on who knows what episode of the IT Crowd, I was shocked to hear my aunts voice (who never calls) on the other end. She called to ask if I wanted to come over because her neighbor was having a BBQ. There would be hotdogs, and hamburgers, and french fries....'oh, and do you think you could spend the night'. Say what?

She explained the situation (there was no one to watch Michelle in the morning) and I agreed to spend the night thinking it was going to be just 1 night. 3 nights later and I am finally home. I've been living out of a messenger bag for the past few days and after i finish watching Star Wars V I'm taking a nap. I am exhausted.

Michelle was as delightful as could be, but everything else was terribly the same at my aunts house. There was still this sense of complete chaos and dysfunction. Her house has never felt like a home because it is constantly in a state of 'renovation'. She can't decided on a paint color for the walls so there are several color strips on the wall. She has more random appliances in her house than Sears catalogue and I may have stepped in cereal she no longer had in her cabinet.

Everything was a mess which probably explains why I got bitten by a spider on my first night on the couch. Michelle and I feel asleep during Macy's Fourth of July Spectacular and when we awoke the next day we were all sorts of marked up with bug bites.For some reason, I got the worst of it. I had a pretty disturbing bruise on my arm that was red, swollen and itchy. I didn't think too much of it, until Wednesday when the bite marked had double in size.

The bump on my arms was the size of a golf ball. And while I've never had the chance to use the phrase in a sentence, the description it's not an exaggeration. Yesterday when I walked in, to work, I immediately complained about my arm, My manager asked to see the bite in question and when I pulled up my sleeve he let out a gasp, gagged a little and said that my arm didn't look good.

As soon as he said that my other co-worker asked 'what doesn't look good?' and came over to check out my arm. When i turned it towards him I swear to bob he recoiled in disgust. He tried to look away but couldn't, and went to touch it but then stopped. And then just backed away and said I needed to get my arm looked at.

By the time lunch rolled around my arm was the topic of discussion. Everyone wanted to a) see it and b) diagnosis it. Some one gave me bendryl to kill off the infection (by then it was established a spider was the most likely cause) which made me irritable and sleepy the whole shift.

I of course had to head home (after work), shower, change and de-stress before heading back to my aunts house for the third time this week. I shouldn't have come home. My bed looked so soft and comfortable and the orange cat who has claimed my room as his own took his seat near the window per usual. It was tough having to pry myself and him from the room last night.

Needless to say I am very very happy to be home today. I didn't think I could miss my bedroom this much. Because today is my last day off before vacation I have a lot of cleaning and packing to do. The plan is to pack light so that I have room in my suitcase to bring a lot of things back in. My mom has a tendency of buying me things when I'm home ( i know. it sucks. gosh) and I could use some new jeans and shirts. I'm just saying.

This vacation can't get here fast enough. I have a tendency of stepping up my A game after being home for a bit and I have high hopes that post trip to south carolina I will have a job. A real crappy, entry level one. I saw transformers the other day and rolled my eyes several times as Sam (shia lebeouf) struggled to find a job the first 30 minutes of the movie. When his parents come to visit Sam in D.C (where he lives in a beautiful apartment with his too gorgeous girlfriend) they are disappointed to learn that 3 months out of college he has yet to find a job. 3 months, try 3 years Sam! And then there is an awful montage of him going on interviews. Not only did he go on 7 in like one day but he gets an awful job working with a creepy John Malkovich.

I hate movies that depict post grad life. Even in the simpliest of forms.

I haven't had any luck in the interview department since March, nor have I ever had 7 damn interviews in one day (come to think of it I don't think I have seven job interviews in the last 3 years), so I figure something will come my way after vacation. It always does.

Ugh, time for a nap. The last few days have felt more like work than actual work and the days before vacation are going to be hectic.

Babysitting.

2011-07-06T20:17:00.002-04:00

So i haven't slept at home in three days. THREE.

And it's not because me and Sufjan Stevens have finally shacked up. Of course not. Instead, my aunt (yes the one who kicked me out of her house a year and a half ago) needs me to babysit my lovely and adorable cousin during the evenings while she works a Midnight-8 shift at her job this week.

While I love spending time with my cousin Michelle, I do not miss living with my aunt. The last three days have been hell. Though our relationship is much better than it was a some months ago, her house is not my home and I have not adjusted to being in that house again. Even though my stay in temporary (tomorrow will be my last day house/babysitting) I can not get over house unfamiliar everything is. How I don't fit into the space there.

I've slept a total of 12 hours in the last 72 hours and I now have a disgusting spider bite on my arm which I recieved while sleeping on my aunt's couch. The bite is bad. It's like my arm is giving birth to another arm. I came into work today and people were mortified by it. Everyone gave suggestions ('gurl you need to see a doctor' was my favorite) and then supplied me with drugs (the legal kind) before staring at the bite in disgust again.

The general consensus is that I need to see a doctor because clearly the bite on my arm is not normal...at all. It's fucking huge!

So not only am I irriated, drowsy, and giving birth to a mutant side arm but I have another night at my aunts house to bear. I stopped home first (big mistake) to take a shower, get some fresh clothes and hug my bed but now I am off to another night where the bugs will no doubt violate me in my sleep.

I think I am most irritated that she knows she can ask me to sleepover and watch michelle because I don't have anything else going on. That I am always the girl with the free time. And don't get me wrong I love being around my cousin but by the time I even get to the house she is asleep and I am sitting alone in the living room frustrated with being there.

Le sigh. I can't wait til things get back to normal. I need my sanity back. I need a propers days rest in my own damn bed.

So, I Guess This Is Where You Call Me A...

2011-06-26T19:54:00.006-04:00

...Meanie.

As a relatively nice and sweet human being I am rarely called anything but...well, nice and sweet. I am by no means perfect I admit this, I am human after all. I get frustrated and aggravated like the next gal but mean I am not. Until today that is.

My patience is winding down at Le Sad Store. With only two weeks left until I am on a train to South Carolina (VACATION!) where I will spend eight stress free and book shelving (customer helping) days, I don't think I will make it at Le Sad Store.

Unfortunately I feel like this blog has become a job venting spot. I apologize for the amount of posts I make about work. But work for me takes up so much of my life right now that it is my main source of journal writing material. Most of my friends are people I work with, I work five days a week at Le Sad Store (when they aren't cutting me down to 3) and on my days off I like to spend all my time away from everyone.

Tuesday and Thursdays have become an oasis for me. Where the annoyances from my job nearly brings me to tears every shift, my days off are ideal. I don't do anything special on those days but the fact that they are spent away from people abuse the word 'customer service' is enough for me. I don't have to answer the phones, or stupid questions or point to the travel section. I don't have to pick up after people or chase down children who are not with their parents. I don't have to give creepy guys the stank eye for opening the porn mags in the fiction aisle, and I am only concerned on my days with making sure I am happy. No one else. Tuesday and Thursday are my sanity.

On Tuesday the theater charges only 6 dollars for any movie showing. All Day. So me and a friend from work usually attend a movie in the afternoon, after I have spent some time at the library getting books to read. On Thursday I stay inside all day. I have no care to step outside and face the world. By then, I've collected all my library books and snacks in advance so that I don't have to make any impromptu trips. The landlady's cat and I lounge in my room all day (the cat likes to chill at the windowsill, I in bed) where books are the only friends I crave.

I need my Tuesday and Thursdays, because lately people have been driving me crazy and not in a normal people are annoying way. Especially at work, it is damn near impossible for me to head into my shift with anything but contempt on my face. With school just out, parents have come in the store angrily yelling at us because we don't have anymore copies of a book their kid has to read for the summer. The store is trashed daily as if people weren't taught the concept of cleaning up after themselves. And the people who come in every day (the regulars. who I swear have no job) treat the place like home, so much to the point that they never want to leave and bang on the gates early in the morning when our morning meetings get a little long.

While I am usually able to be the better person in all of these situations, I have currently lost the will or patience these days to do so. The drudgery is stifling and predictable. I cannot stand when customers address me by my name (or worse an affectionate nickname) because I work there. I am tired of having to put up with people's shit because I work in retail. I understand that I wear a name tag and a part of my job description is about customer satisfaction. But when someone calls to at noon to ask if the store is open...customer satisfaction does not exist anymore. Just plain contempt. Plain ol' contempt.

The last few days have been dreadful at Le Sad Store. I already know what titles people are looking for (into thin air, the chosen, the outsiders and among the hidden), I already know what they'll say if we don't have it (is there another store near by, this is why i shop on amazon) and I've grown thick skin against the pushy 'so basically you are telling me you don't have the book I want. Well what help are you' customers. Every day they chip at my soul and I try to hold on to my own sanity.

The summer reading thing is very bothersome to me:

Summer reading for me was never mandatory when I was a kid. At the end of the year, the teacher sent us home with a list of books that were suggested reading and because I was a nerdy, nerdy kid I read the books because I wanted to. It's completely different now. The kids who come into the store can't even pronounce the title of the books they have to read (how do you pronounce Beloved? I can bet it's not how this chap the other day pronounced it).

I like having to discover books and authors to read. I like thumbing through an aisle and stumbling upon things. And while I completely encourage required reading, the looks on these kids face are painful. As if reading is something entirely boring and soul sucking.

Surprisingly this is the least of my issues with the store as of late. The regulars are killing me. They are there every day fighting (yes, actually fighting) for the most comfortable seats in our store. We know, almost all of them by name and they have tried unsuccessfully to know all of us in some way or another. I refuse to engage with someone who spends more time at the store than I do. I refuse! They ask to use our phone regularly, to find books for them they have no intention of buying and sometimes (most of the times) they try to engage in conversations as if we are friends.

There is one fellow in particular who is a regular nuisance. A rather portly guy in his mid 30's who frequents the store with his mom sometimes (he lives with her). Every day, sans mother, he comes in the store and asks if we have the new issue of playboy on the shelf. He has asked me on several occasions along with a bunch of us on the floor, even though he already knows the answer. He also has a tendency of speaking in an Indian accent to us though he is not Indian. He has done so at the registers because he thinks it is funny and one or two of us have let him know that is is offensive and inappropriate do an a stereotypical accent.

Recently, he has discovered a book in the humor section called The Fart book. It's what you think it is: a book with 8 buttons you can push that emit the sound of different farts. Creepy guy thinks this book is hilarious and makes a point of pulling it from the shelves so he can stand by customer service and push the button. For the past two weeks, he has carried this book around the store, 'sharing' the sound with customers and laughing childishly.

I have often thought of ripping the book out of his hands, of slamming it on the nearest counter and pointing out that it wasn't funny the first time he did and it is not funny now. It is clear that he is someone who suffers from horrible social skills. He does not know when enough is enough and because no one has told him differently he continues to act like a complete nuisance in public.

During our breaks we often talk about our most hated customers, and he ranks number one all the time. He is like that kid in high school who puts the kick me target on his back because his antics are annoying. He needs attention from people and cannot see when said person has become uncomfortable.

Because I was already in a bad mood I was none to happy to see him today as soon as the door opened with the Fart Book in his hand. He made his way slowly to customer service with this smile on his face and I already knew what he was going to say.

"excuse me, excuse me, tee hee, hey, don't you think this book is funny, tee hee, excuse me, excuse me, this book don't you think it's funny, fart book, tee hee, you need to look at it".

I being an amazing customer service rep, ignored him. But instead of walking away he came around the other side just in case I didn't hear him. My manager (who was also ignoring him), turned to me and we started having a conversation about nothing above the sound of his voice so he would get the picture and walk away. The two of us ignoring him made an impact and he eventually went to bother someone else.

Per usual, I let everyone know that there was a Creeper sighting in order to prepare them for his presence. Some of us have discussed that the only way to get him to stop a) being a bother and b) annoying us is to be direct. That when he is being inappropriate we need to call him on it.

But that too is something we aren't technically allowed to do. While we spend are shifts complaining about the customers who frequent the store, retail revolves around them. And while I refuse to cater or baby or be less of a person because I wear a name tag all day, I can't be all out rude.

But I thought Creepy guy was done for the day. I thought that the anger and frustration that has been building up these last two weeks would go away because he had gone away. But that would be too easy. An hour or two before my shift ended I caught sight of his superman t-shirt heading to customer service. Immediately I made a bee-line to warm whomever was there that he was on the prowl. But before I could get there, Creeper was talking to a co-worker at customer service and as I expected he wanted to know if we had any fart books in the store.

He knew where the fart book was. He put the damn thing away only hours earlier. He just wanted someone to type up the word fart in the search engine, so he could 'tee hee' and snicker.

But for some reason, I saw this as my opportunity to get something off of my chest. I approach Creeper as my coworker was typing in the title and said:

Me: "You know where the book is. Because you come in here every day and ask us to find it for you. You know this, you were just here a few hours ago. Every Day you do this!"

"Oh. I'm Sorry. Tee Hee. But I just want to know who the author is?"

Me:"No you don't. You want us to look for a book that you've put away a million times. It's becoming a little much. We understand that it is funny already. You don't have to keep telling us"

Silence.

More Silence.

My coworker was completely taken aback and didn't know what to say or do...so he kept trying to find the name of the author of the Fart Book. When he finally retrieved the name, Creepy guy sulked away (embarrassed) to the wonderful world of fart sounds.

When I came across the other side of customer service to discuss what just happened, my co-workers said that I was out of line (say what). That I should not have said what I said to the Creeper. That if a manager or someone else were in ear shot I would have gotten in trouble.

And he's right. I would have been written up.But seriously, I just couldn't take it anymore. I haven't been able to take much of Le Sad Store anymore. The stupid questions, the insensitive customers, the repetition. The old people telling me to perk up, the young people laying in the aisle. It takes all of my strength to treat the customers with any level of respect (well the ones who are nice obviously are treated so). And this guy just incites something within me that borders on rage. Unbridled annoyed rage.

Before my shift ended the music manager (a teddy bear kind of a guy) came over to tell me that a customer had complained about me to him. He smiled and said that a heavy set guy in a blue shirt said that I was a meanie(yep, meanie) and that I provided horrible customer service in regards to a fart book he was looking for.

For christ sakes. I'm officially a meanie.

I need a vacation. I need one quick. While I am not too worried about this guy calling me a 'mean person', I am quite upset that he has a small point. Working in retail is taking a toll on me. I am losing all faith in people. I am quickly annoyed and displeased with strangers and find myself having little to no patience with their expectations from me. And it's a shame because generally I like people, I am always able to see the humanity in them but lately it is as if everyone possess qualities that I find aggravating and it is making me bitter.

I don't want to be a mean person. I don't want to come across as a bitch. But the more I work in retail the more my complaints about people grow. And the only remedy is to escape before I have become a person who I can't look at in the mirror. Before I join the ranks as one of those people jaded by the real world and turned sour too quickly by the experience.

Sick Day.

2011-06-15T14:27:00.002-04:00

Ugh between watching Judy Moody (horrible movie) with my six year old cousin, crying softly through Super 8 (the movie is damn near perfect in my eyes) and consuming an abundance of candy, movie snacks and food...I am sick.

Sick. Sickly. Icky Ickly. Sick.

There are pros and cons to my current situation. Pro's: I was able to leave work uber early today for fear of vomiting on patrons and/or passing out in the aisle somewhere. I will also get to utilize a sick day tomorrow because I rarely (ever) call out of work. I have stocked up on soup, saltine crackers and for some reason a cheap box set of Nightmare on Elm street from Target to busy me in my sick state.

Cons: Being sick.

I am achy and light headed and generally ill feeling today. Yesterday was an epic marathon of hanging out with my aunt and baby cousin, sitting through one of the worst kid flicks I have ever seen and then sitting through one of the best movies I have ever seen soon after. By 6 o'clock I thought 'hey, I'm not feeling all that great but maybe I am just worn out'. But when I got home, my body sort of crashed, my head sort of exploded and all out flu-like symptoms took hold.

While being sick is never fun, being away from people for a while to get better is just what i need. I am worn down and exhausted and all kinds of in need for some TLC.

And because I haven't had a proper sick day in a very long time I am going to do it up in style. I am going to remain in bed for the next two days with only soup, juice and netflix near by. Should my phone ring I will promptly move it away from me. I will read my old school fear street novel from front to back because it is a quick and easy read. And pj's will be my sick outfit of choice. Pants are optional.

Outside of feeling terrible I am looking forward to resting up for a while. I doubt that I have the summer flu but I do think being generally exhausted has something to do with my current state.

Super 8

2011-06-14T23:20:00.002-04:00

...was amazing.

the end.

New Digs

2011-06-09T21:39:00.004-04:00

First proper day in new room and while I am still figuring out where I want to place things, I know already that I adore the view.

While it was beyond hot today an unexpected afternoon thunderstorm cooled things down for a bit and of course prompted me to take some shots of the view from my window.

If it could rain like this everyday I would be the happiest gal around. I am not sure I am going to have AC this summer because the landlady hasn't said anything yet and knowing me I won't bring it up. Though this is the coolest room in my house this heatwave has all but squashed any hopes that I would have a heat free room. I spent a bulk of my day lying very still, sleeping and moving only to get more pink lemonade.

And then out of nowhere the clouds sort of grumbled and rain started pouring and maybe I was a little delusion but the heat dropped. And for a few short hours it was a nice summer afternoon, full of rain and comfort.

I'm sort of glad this week is over. Moving has taken everything out of me. Naturally I always carry with me a feeling of displacement, and having to move has made the feeling ever more present.

While next week promises to be more time consuming, I hope, at least on the home front, that the things will fall into place. That instead of having everything I own all over the place that they will have a spot to rest soon.

Until then rain and low lights will be my solace. I find the breeze and view from this new room to be phenomenal.

Good Times.

2011-06-07T08:08:00.006-04:00

Switching rooms should not be this traumatic. The space is larger, there is more light and the view from my new window is awesome. But as I get ready to finish my final day of packing so that I can be move into the room right down the hall, I am filled with a sense of sadness at having to leave this space (though Nicole has made it quite clear that she is ready to have her own room).

I like this room. A lot. It took me a while to get use to it. The hues. The light. The sounds from across the street. But like most things, I made it mine...eventually. And I have enjoyed every day in this room.

And it's not to say that I won't like the new space because already, I am quite smitten with the layout. But I can't say that I won't walk by the room ever so often and wish that it was my space again. Le sigh.

I should be fully moved into the new room today. Friends from work offered to help, but I told them I could manage shuffling things down a hallway. And plus it will give me some time alone in both rooms.

My mom thinks this upgrade is only the beginning. Yes, she is one of those moms who puts a positive, optimistic spin on everything. "new room" she says "new job, new everything". It's the way energy of the world works. And maybe she is right. Well, hopefully because while I am anxious about leaving the things that make me comfortable behind. The excitement over upgrades cannot be denied. Beginnings are exciting, like that lyric from that Semisonic song "every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end".

I'm sort of ready for change. Scared and anxious and a little bit misty eyed. But ready.

Time to finish packing. It is going to be a long day.

Moving Day.

2011-06-03T21:28:00.003-04:00

So a couple of weeks ago my awesome landlady informed me that one of the tenants would be moving out the first week of June. Outside of Mary (landlady) and her daughter (Nicole) I rarely run into the other two guys who live here. One resides in the room near the attic and the other has the room next to mine.

I've run into both of them a total of ten times since living here, and I kind of love that they are quiet and keep to themselves. So when she told me that the guy next to me was leaving in June, I sort of grew anxious at the thought of having a new roommate. I enjoy having the house to myself during the day. I enjoy the quiet mornings and access to the kitchen and laundry room. With another roommate comes the possibility of less alone time at home, especially if there schedule is anything like me.

But those fears were soon squashed when Mary announced that instead of getting a new tenant she wanted to give Nicole, now 9, a room of her own. Nicole has shared a room with her mother since her was a babe but now that she is older she wants her own space, as any bieber obsessed pre-teen. Because I have the smallest room in the house (which is medium size by normal standards) she wanted to know if we could do a switcheroo. With the guy next door leaving, I could have his room (with no changes in rent) so that Nicole could reside in mine.

A larger room? No change in rent? Yes please. While I adore this room, passing up a bigger one would be silly. Of course, while I knew that I would be potentially upgrading to a larger space in a few weeks I made no attempts to clean my current room in preparation. The guy next door is leaving tomorrow and Mary says I can move in as soon as possible. Preferably by Wednesday as Nicole has picked out the color she wants this room to be (purple. yikes) and painter will be there sometime this week.

While I am happy about getting a new room (and a new bed) I hate moving. Even moving just a mere two feet to my left is daunting. I have so many books, and cd's and dvd's to pack or rather to collect in order to make the move easier. I should have done that during the day instead of watching Court Tv and napping. I should have starting preparing my things for a new space instead of chilling in my current one.

Of course, that did not happen. And now I am mere days from moving into my new room with a mess currently in this one. Damn.

I apologize for the sporadic posting. Apparently I suck at balancing life, sleep and writing. Even with three days off this week, I haven't completed anything worth talking about.

And I must admit that I am really starting to hate being a reader for this literary agency. Because I am not paid for doing the reader responses I turn in, I feel less interested in actually reading the submissions. I put in about 10% of an effort to read and get a feeling for the entries but eventually succumb to sheer boredom and misery that I am required to write something about each submission.

I need to hang onto this gig long enough for it to look good on my resume but I admit this foot in the door opportunity feels more like a chore. One that I am not getting paid to even endure. And while I thought June would usher in a job opportunity, I have not heard anything back about future employment. I even applied (again) to the place I had that disastrous interview with last year. I know, I know, I know that I am only setting myself up for disappointment. But I am desperate and in need of a new job (quick) so it can't hurt to throw myself into the applicant pool again. Who knows, maybe she will hate me less the second time around.

Maybe.

I should really clean this room now. I will wait until the house is quiet so I can put the days worth of garbage outside. Note to Self: clean room more often. It will make packing things up a lot easier.

~Beckett

Oh, and I have a new Grilled Cheese post up. It's about the quarter life crisis, I am uber proud of the post because it's the most relevant and personal thing I've written on that blog.

Obviously, Doctor, You've Never Been a 13 Year Old Girl.

2011-05-27T18:02:00.009-04:00

After four days of bliss away from work, I am not looking forward to my first day back to Le Sad store after this mini vacation.

It have been a very hot and humid week in new york. The landlady hasn't installed the AC in my room yet, and I have spent much of the week in bed, laying very still with a water bottle near by to either drink f or pour from. I am not above pouring water on myself to cool down.

With only 3 days of work this week, rent and student loans looming I wanted to take it easy. I can only stress so much about every detail before the sound of my own internal monologue drives me crazy. So I made an attempt, outside of the weather, to relax.

I spent Monday in the aisles of the library finding a handful of books to kick off the summer of reading. I read a lot more during these hot, humid months. Maybe it's because the weather always reminds me of immobility. Some days it would get so hot in south carolina the only thing you could do without breaking a sweat was curl up with a book.

I spent most of my summers doing this because I had little friends and/or activities to participate in. My mom worked (works) crazy hours which prevented her from hanging out with us during the day. My brother was too busy being...well...an older brother who didn't want to hang out with his sister all damn day.

So I read. A lot. To pass the time. To connect to something. To amuse myself. I read countless books whose titles I wish I would have written down. And even now, despite the friends and the deadlines and the applications to apply to. Despite the busy nature of my life these days, I have spent every summer since those lonely high school days reading as many books as I can in the comfort of my home with music in the background.

It's weird that I continue stockpiling books during the summer. But I take such a simplistic delight in reading books all day and drinking pink lemonade (there must be pink lemonade near by). I've already finished two of the titles I checked out this week and am trying to get through Just Kids by Patti Smith. But it's a little too pretentious for me. It's a little too 'artsy fartsy' for my liking. But I am determined to finish it. I am determined to finish a bunch of things this summer because the humidity is preventing me from doing much us.

I am simultaneously reading Virgin Suicides by Jeffery Eugenides which is one of my favorite books of all time. I don't think I will ever grow out of the connection I feel towards the tragic Lisbon sisters and the boys who mourn them. Every year since I picked the title up, four or five years ago, I have read the book like it is the first time I have come across the novel.

It is lush and atmospheric, lovely and devastating and speaks to the part of me that will always be this very delicate and frustrated girl on the fringe. And while I am not a fan of most adaptations, the movie turned out to be this beautifully crafted and well acted picture that I always recommend in tandem to the book.

There is something so airy and dreamlike about the picture. There is something so painful yet beautiful about the actress who each represent the five siblings

And while I am not the hugest Kirsten Dunst fan, she does a fine job portraying Lux. This beautiful, tortured, rebellious soul.

To be honest I read this novel more so because of the emotions it stirs up, rather than the fact that I always usher in the summer with a re-reading an old favorite.

Because I am feeling a little bit disjointed, aloof and askew these days, I have gravitated to this story where the girls seems so lost by their own existence. And while my helpless and disconnect will never feel as isolating as theirs, I can't help but relate in some weird way to them; wanting to spend a few hours understanding it all from their 'voices'.

I can't tell if my own sudden weightlessness has anything to do with general anxieties or restlessness. But lately I have been feeling out of touch. That I am not congruent. That my body and mind, thoughts and actions are going in opposite directions. And I wonder how I have lost control. Or how I have lost the grasp on it all.

I know it will pass. It always does but until then I most find some way to piece everything back together. I think another random day in the city would help. I think another day walking around with my camera, snapping pictures and then 'accidentally' getting lost in a cupcake shop would do some good.

I would love to find another garden to go to, but the only one that remotely looks interesting is in the Bronx which means I would have to take a train, a subway and a bus. Too much travel if you ask me.

If I weren't so against sitting in a park by myself, I would head to a part of central park that not many tourist visit. A small enclosed space of rocks and greenery. But I feel like secret places, such as that, has to be shared with someone else. For security sake.

But I will head to the city next week. I will. I will. While I don't mind exploring the difficulties of being an intuitive, delicate girl...I've learned not to linger in that mood for too long. While I love the Lisbon sisters and the tragedy of their youth and beauty, I can only relate for so long before I remember that I have to keep moving. That I can't lull in my own sense of disconnect for too long.

It's okay to feel weightless everyone once in a while, but the longer I stay there the harder it will be for me to return to solid ground.

Everyone Leaves...But Me.

2011-05-23T07:56:00.002-04:00

I apologize for being a bad blogger these days.

I am suffering from another case of 'where have the days gone' and it is throwing me off my writing game, amongst other things.

I spent most of last week running around accommodating friends, sleeping in, working and watching Mystery Masterpieces' Sherlock Holmes on Netflix. Of course I now have another crush on a floppy headed British Guy (whose first name is Benedict. I mean come on, how can you not love that name?!) and am headed to the library today for some Holmes reading material.

This is another crappy week for me work wise. I clock in three days at Le Sad Store and the other four will be used to apply to jobs, try not to cry from job hunting frustrations and dance as much as I can. Hours are still being slashed despite the fact that we have lost 5 or 6 people in the last week. Most of them worked in cafe or worked when I wasn't around so their absence has no effect on me, but a couple of days ago Evan pulled me aside to let me know that he put in his two weeks notice too. And I am a little thrown off by this.

I like Evan a lot. Despite that 2 month period where I ignored him, I adore this kid. I trained him during his first weeks at Le Sad Store and ate lunch with him during the weird new kid months. We've exchanged DVD's, gone to see movies together, and he was one of the people I spent days in the city with.

I am crushed that he is leaving (happy of course that he has gotten a new job, at a, um, Harley Davidson store. I know.) and cannot wrap my head around this new wave of exits that are happening. I always describe them as waves because they consist of weeks, particularly in the summer, when a large part of our staff finds new employment. I wouldn't say better employment but new nonetheless.

Last year, right around July, we lost so many people managers were scrambling to fill their spots. That too is happening now. On Friday three people called out on a four person close. I opened, but it didn't stop evil manager from asking if I could do a double shift. I quickly said 'no' and she fumed. The next night, two people from a mid shift called out along with one closer. I was not asked to stay this time around but I made sure to get the hell out of the store before anyone could ask.

Everyone however, is pissed that hours are being slashed hardcore even as managers are hiring up a storm (taking away more hours). But after the last three days of a short staffed store I can't help but understand their decision to hire people for backup purposes. I just hope that I have a new job secured before anyone of them start working there.

I am a lot more practical about this job search. Worried, some, because there are a slew of recent grads lurking about now, but still hopeful. It doesn't mean that I am not bat-shit anxious from time to time. It doesn't mean that I haven't contemplated getting any job rather than sticking to my guns about the industry I am currently trying to break in to. But I'd go crazy if those thoughts consumed me every day. I would be in a really horrible funk if I didn't see the silver lining in it all.

I am applying to a UK production scheme just for the hell of it. I mean it can't hurt. International applicants are encourage to apply and though I have no idea how I would fund moving to the UK if I got this paid internship, having the opportunity to work abroad makes me happy. It makes me feel productive and like I am going somewhere.

Last night I was joking around at customer service with our newest head cashier, a kid who is just 19 and a Freshman in college. No one knows how he got a head cashier position so quickly. He'd only been there a month or two when they offered him the raise and of course he didn't turn it down. He is a very smart, attractive, creative guy who is mature for his age and he has become the 'golden boy who can do no wrong' to the managers.

At first I didn't like him to much but over time we have developed a very joking jovial relationship. He was hanging around customer service during his break last night because he needed help finding a book. It was a Adobe Suite CS5 manual (?) that he could not find anywhree in the store but that he 'needed' because he wants to work as a freelance designer and wanted a leg up on the competition. I repeat the child is 19 years old.

I, naturally, assist him in finding his book while he explains that he needs the book so he can start a website that will help people start their own webpages. It'll be like a hosting site or something and he has already claimed a domain name. When we finally come across the book he explains that wants the website to be up and running soon, so that he can start his own business within a matter of months(only 19, remember this).

He was rambling so fast that I had to ask him to slow down, 'you're only 19'. I continued with a general 'ambition is cool and all but at 19 I was moping floors at a philly cheesesteak joint (that lasted all but 6 weeks)' spiel but he was too busy thumbing through the manual to pay attention.

I know, some kids are just driven, some kids have that ambition sort of thing going on but at 19, I couldn't imagine wanting all that responsibility. At 19, I wished I would have been more of a 19 year old. It irks me how he talks about people in their 20's. As if we lack the ambition that kids his age have. I am only 6 years older than this guy but he acts as if the age gap is by generation.

He tellls me that he is 'so ambitious and independent' because he can't depend on his wealthy parents to support him. I understand this. I tell him this. And I agree that thinking about the future now is always a good thing.

But as we are talking about goals and such he says, out of nowhere, that he doesn't want to end up like me when he graduates college in three years. I. Shit. You. Not.

I know he was just joking, he said he was just joking, I pretended to cry in my hands (while I boiled with rage inside) to make him feel bad. He then tried to apologize for the way it came out and he said 'I'm kidding you know that, if i was a writer like you, working at the bookstore would be ideal. you know, but I want to work in graphic design so being a Head Cashier here is like, dumb, you know. I couldn't imagine being 23 and still working here'.

So cute. So young. So naive.

I agreed some. And then walked away, trying not to destroy something. I let the comment go the rest of the day. I went about my shift as if he hadn't just said that. And then I got home, and it ate at me. It burned through my flesh and tore at my veins. What the hell?! What a polarizing thing to say to someone. As if I enjoy being a 25 year old bookseller because I know how to put a couple of sentences together to form a cohesive thought. What a dumb thing to say to someone just because you assume they lack ambition? The comment infuriates me on so many levels and insults my already bruised ego.

I sure as hell don't want to be anyone's template on 'what not to do'. I sure as hell don't want to be anyone's worse case scenario. Because truthfully, despite the aggravation, frustration and general anxieties I know that I have more potential than being at Le Sad Store and I am working my ass off to prove this to myself.

And it sucks hardcore that everyone around me is leaving, that everything is in this beautiful state of change (again) and I feel left behind. But I know this won't last forever. It is not as if I am standing still while everything revolves around me. It is not as if I have given up hope that I will get a new job, or a UK production scheme, or maybe incentive to try grad school. I know this.

I just have to keep moving and catch up to the things that I want. It's a lot harder than I thought. He'll learn that in a few years.

Anyway, enough of my ramblings.

I should get dressed and out of bed. There are so many books I want to read this summer and despite the thunderstorm clouds I see from my window, I really want to stop by the library and pick up a few things. I don't know why the library is so relaxing. Oh, because there are free books. My bad.

~Beckett

Rainy Sunday.

2011-05-15T19:41:00.003-04:00

I've up and done something to internet explorer. I haven't been able to log into blogger for days now. I guess this can be shelved as a 'check, check, one, two three...is this thing working' post. I apologize in advance for the randomness.

I know blogger was updating it's server a few days ago, but something has happened between Tuesday and now. I couldn't login at first. And then when that failed, I was unable to access the website altogether. I was having quite the panic attack about this.

I thought I lost all of my entries from the get go. I accessed the site from my phone and it suggested that I try using another internet browser because I probably messed up cookie feature.So for now, i'll have to use Safari in order to access my blog, at least until I can figure out what the hell I did on internet explorer.

Anyway,

I requested today off a couple of weeks ago because I had plans with my aunt and cousin to attend an art fair in Sleepy Hollow. But we are a family full of flakes, and she didn't call this week to set up a time to be at her house and I was to lazy to call and ask her if our plans were still on. Plus, I kind of just wanted a weekend to myself again.

I'm a selfish, selfish girl and quite possibly the only 25 year old who likes not having anything to do on the weekend.

With summer just around the corner, I am making half-hearted attempts to a) curb my terrible eating habits (um, eating anything in my sights that looks like a cookie) and prepare myself for a summer of activity and job hunting.

I actually spent some time today applying to another literary agency gig in the city. It's a pretty small company (3 agents and the owner) but I feel oddly confident about getting an interview. I am weeks away from having to face student loan repayments which is causing a damn near heart attack before sleep. I am in the home stretch and have to find something quick.

Le Sad Store is still cutting hours all the while interviewing people to hire for the summer. My attitude has been less than stellar making it even harder to bear dealing with customers and screaming children. The other day, some mom let her kid trail popcorn all around the kids department. She did not clean this mess up when she left and I refused to do so while I was there. So the department smelled of kernel all day.

Outside of my dissatisfaction at work, I think my weird funk, lag, is all but behind me. While I am not excited about hotter weather (I prefer wind and rain) the sun has inspired activity. I am jotting down a reading list for the summer, along with various places I'd like to visit in or around the city. Apparently in Brooklyn there is a rooftop cinema where you can watch classic movies. I will find someone to drag to this. I will.

Plus there are going to be many parks and zoos now available to explore. Having a steady job, with steady income would fund these excursions well. Heather has been damn near perfect in advice, as we are both in the same position. Outside of talking up Harry Potter to such acclaim that I had no choice but to start reading the series, we are job hunting buddies.

And after checking out this agency, I like it a lot. Their website is pretty basic but i've been able to get a sense of the people who work there via facebook (and one of their leading agents is a cute Brit. tee hee). But who knows. I have to apply first, and hope that my qualifications pay off, and hope that I am not scared shitless during the interview like I was last time. I'll worry about all of that when it comes around, I guess.

I think I am going to finish the rest of my Sunday night, finishing up Harry Potter and listening to Beach House. I'm more relieved that blogger works and that I haven't lost this journal. I was starting to get worried after countless attempts to connect to the site.

My anxiety has now been put to rest and I don't have to start writing post from the library again. Last time I attempted that I sat next to a guy clearly looking at porn.

~Beckett

She's Just Not That Into You....No, Seriously.

2011-05-11T09:40:00.002-04:00

So I have this friend at work who left his pregnant wife for a cafe server soon after I started working at Le Sad Store. Yeah it was pretty bad.

For weeks all anyone could do was gossip about how 'distasteful' the whole thing was. He was 24 at the time and married a girl who he 'didn't really love but felt really close'to'. His exact words. A lot of people from work even attended their small wedding. And soon she became pregnant with their kid.

So when he started being really friendly with Cafe Chick, everyone silently judged. When he started being touchy touchy with her, every one was grossed out. And when he announced that he was leaving his now 8 months pregnant wife, well, everyone called him out on it.

This alone should have stopped me from being friends with him. Cheating is icky. I would feel all sorts of betrayed if the guy I was seeing decided he that needed someone else to satisfy him. I would feel all sorts of ashamed that I'd let this guy into my life only for him to step all over our commitment.

And cheating is cheating. Whether you are married or dating some guy or a girl, the moment you step outside of a relationship is wrong.

But me and this guy have grown to form quite the friendship outside my first initial impression of him. Outside of my lack of respect for his character and actions. In fact, despite him being a cheater, he's one of my closest friends at work. He introduced me to doctor who, we've hung out a billion time watching movies and talking about superheroes. I find him to be a funny, interesting though flawed friend.

But I've never 'agreed' with his relationship with this cafe server. Not just because he cheated on his wife with this chick. But as very platonic friend, I think it's safe to admit that Cafe Girl and him make an odd couple.

Their relationship has always been weird because outside of, i guess, sexual attraction,they are polar opposites. She is a moody girl, who complains a lot and takes things way to seriously. She is also a control freak. He is a childish man/child who cannot take anything seriously even when you want him to. And he often throws tantrums when he doesn't get his way and then expects everyone to care about what is ailing him.

She treats him like a child (she has reason too) and he relies on her like she is a mom. A bunch of us recently stopped going over their house (yep, they moved in together) because the tension between them was unbearable. I once went over to watch horror movies with him and when she came home I invited her to stay and join us in our horror marathon. She immediately accepted the invitation and took a seat next to him on the couch.

The complaints continued the instant she sat down. The popcorn was too salty, the movie sucked, why didn't he take out the recyclables, why were we talking through the movie. I quickly decided that I would stay until the movie ended and then make my way home to my safe pleasant house.

I don't know when the honeymoon period ended for them (or if it ever really started) but they fight nonstop in front of any and everyone. And not in a funny playful way. They argue about the stupidest things and then shoot each other 'i hate you' stares.

For the past year, he has made comments to everyone that he was going to break up with her. That she is an awful girlfriend who completely emasculates him in public. He talks badly about her nonstop when she isn't around to the point where we all sort of roll our eyes in a 'do it already or shut up' way.

And I know as a friend I should tolerate at least hearing about their failing relationship but to be honest I couldn't care less. A part of me attributes his complete misery in this relationship to karma. That he is getting exactly what he deserved.

Last week a couple of us went to an arcade( i slayed zombies like a champ) to blow off some steam. The whole bus ride there He wouldn't let up about his relationship problems. They hate each other, they don't talk, she doesn't want to be touched, he hates going home. I sort of zoned out. Then tried to change the conversation. Then zoned out again and played with my camera phone.

I just can't take pity on a cheater who is now miserable in his current relationship. I can't. And the fact that they've both let it go on this long is just....dumb.

But we were all sort of surprised when a few days ago he posted online that he was now single! That they were finally over! But it wasn't him who pulled the plug

After months of talking badly about her to other people, wishing he would have stayed with his ex-wife, getting customers number at work ( I forgot to add that part) and telling every one that Cafe Server was the worst mistake in his life....she left him.

She told him that she was no longer loved him and that she needs to move on with her life.

Oh-em-gee.

I of course found all of this out via facebook (the site is becoming a headache) and sent him a text message. He said that he wanted tell me what happened in person and if I was able to grab coffee or something. This was Friday and surprisingly I had plans to hang out with Heather (i adore this girl) that afternoon. I told him that I was going to be busy most of the day but that I could swing by work later for a little while.

I was having a perfectly nerdy time with Heather the next day, which made having to see him (and hear about the breakup) even more of a nuisance. Heather and I watched Kickass at her house while eating pizza and filling in our life experiences. She showed me so more job sites to beef up my search and I looked over her resume to give some feedback. The fact that I've made a friend who is like me in so many ways is amazing. The fact that I have a friend outside of Le Sad Store is even better. We are really hitting it off.

And just as she was convincing me to give the Harry Potter series a try (she wants to have a harry potter movie marathon before the last one comes out in July) I got a text from Him asking where I was. I didn't even realize that it was getting late and me and Heather were still having a blast.Though I hate using phones while hanging out with people, I excused myself to text him back saying 'I'm in the middle of something, but I'll be there as soon as I can'. I apologized to Heather for having to put an end to our awesome day but 'my friend just broke up with his girlfriend.....drama time'.

She dropped me off at work and I found him sulking in the break room. The first thing he said was 'I can't believe she broke up with me. I gave up everything for her and loved her'.

Um, weren't you just badmouthing her two days ago, didn't you just show me a picture of some chick you went on a 'kinda date' with while Cafe Chick went on a trip. I don't understand why suddenly there is an about face. Why suddenly you are the victim in your relationships demise.

I didn't think it was possible that someone could get more annoying without a significant other but he is proving otherwise. Suddenly, in a platonic way of course, I have had to console him in his heartache. He wants to talk all the time. He wants to know what went wrong and why. He wants to win her back because outside of hating her guts, he loves her. He can't believe she broke up with him first.

There is only so much I can tolerate as a girl. During these conversations I find myself drifting to a place where his voice cannot be heard. I find myself wanting to say something incredibly rude like 'maybe she broke up with you because while she wasn't the best girlfriend (and actively pursued a married man) you aren't a good boyfriend at all".

The guy is 26! Divorced, a father and still lacking any sense of responsibility for everything he does. How do you accumulate this much baggage at 26? How do you expect anyone (especially) me to feel pity.

I have no idea what to do. He wants me to help him look for an apartment in the next week or so, but I fear that he will suggest that the two of us should become roommates (hell no). Or worse. That I will fully grow so sick of hearing about how 'she wronged him' that I will be incredibly rude and distance myself from him.

Because while I disagree with their whole relationship, Cafe Chick may have a point. Why stay with someone you aren't completely interested in. Why continue shaking up in an apartment when you cannot tolerate the sight of each other. Maybe, simply put, she is just not interested in being his girlfriend anymore. And to tell you the truth, I can't really fault her.

Tis Friday!

2011-05-06T09:05:00.005-04:00

I have today off. It's weird. I'm so not use to having Friday's off I had to remind myself last night that I did not have to go to bed early for work in the morning.

This week has felt less like a mini-vacation and more like an 'errand running and hanging out with people' week. I've totally ignored some deadlines in favor of applying to jobs, hitting up an arcade and cooking pasta.

I recently found this incredibly awesome internship to apply to and am investing a lot of energy to submit the application before the closing date. Sorry Literary Agency you'll get your reader response next week.

Did I mention this internship is in the UK! A while back I was interested in applying to a production work scheme with BBC. It was after I went on an interview with BBC America that I starting looking into actual work programs over there. I love British television. Outside of Doctor Who, the Brits know how to make good television programs. Survivors, Mr. Bean, Blackadder, Monday/Monday, It Crowd, the Inbetweeners. I could go on.

So on some level it makes sense to learn more about British programming in the UK.

Overseas most of the work schemes or internships are paid for and because I have little ties to my life in the states combined with a huge desire to be near British boys, I've been hunting down the right internship since August.

The BBC one turned out to be a bust. The application was beyond impossible to complete. Not only did it require a lengthy written application but I would have to send in a production reel. So, I put that opportunity behind me (production reel, that would involve learning how to edit first) and kept searching. A few days ago I stumbled upon a communications and marketing internship with another television company. It's a 12 month, paid internship in a field of my interest (kinda) and would be amazing if I got it.

The application is due next Saturday. I'm sending it in on Monday. I don't even care if this is a ridiculous thing to do. I'm doing it. And if I get it, I would freak out beyond freak out. Could you imagine the things I'd see and write about.

I realize now that wanting a change and actually making the change happen are two different things. And four days away from the Le Sad Store has put many a things in perspective. In retail, even though cashiers and customer service people deal with a majority of people's bullshit all day (some later cried in front of me on Wednesday because she was new to the area and hated everything) we are low on the totem poll, even to the managers. Oh, the store couldn't function without us busting our ass but no one cares because we are replaceable. There is some other desperate, young sap ready to take our place.

Despite my hours being cut dramatically, Le Sad Store is actually hiring new people. The other day some girl called in to check on the status of on the interview she came in for the week before. She will most likely will start in a few weeks and I am not too pleased about this only because all we hear about are the amount of hours the store isn't able to give out because of fiscal year b.s. and now we are hiring more people who will, take hours away from us.

At 25 I really do want to work for a company that believes in me as much I as believe it. And that, along with wanting to utilize real skills, is why I need to leave Le Sad Store. Wow, I think I just said a very adult thing. Weird.

So while I have a manuscript report to compose, a post to write (darren criss post most likely) and a room that is in serious need of cleaning I have been using most of my energy to sound smart, witty and awesome as hell for this internship. I don't know if I'll get it or if Americans are allowed to apply but it can't hurt. Right? I could finally be UK bound. For a whole year, and I wouldn't be broke.

Outside of working on the application today, Heather (the old friend I'm reconnecting with) and I are going to munch on pizza and watch movies at her place for a little bit. She is actually the most delightful person I've met here. It's like our friendship has just been on pause for the last 15 years and we've picked up quite nicely as friends. It's nice having a friend outside of Le Sad Store, someone I can just watch movies with and talk about Darren Criss or Tosh 2.0 without sounding nerdy.

So yeah, on my very first Friday off in a very long time, I've got a internship to apply to, a post to write and a friend to hang out with. Things are looking up. Except for my allergies which are beating the hell out of me, things are looking up.

May 4th 2011.

2011-05-05T00:51:00.002-04:00

Yesterday (may 4th )my nephew Elijah would have turned four years old. Oh, wow where is time going.

I just learned that today/tonight, yesterday (I'm writing at a weird hour. sorry) that the fourth of May is Star Wars day or something. He was born on Stars War day.

I have had many discussions at work about nerd culture and whether I fall into the category of nerdom. It's weird, I didn't think that there needed to be any discussions on whether I was a nerd. Apparently they weren't friends with me in high school or college.

It wasn't until I moved up here that I learned that my nerdy, and geeky and book wormy self does not automatically classify me as a nerd, per se. Not to any of the people I hang out with anyway.

In actuality, I am a person (by somes standards) who has all the nerd like qualities while lacking the essential 'depth' to earn the nerd badge. The depth stems from the fact that I have never seen Star Wars and apparently any one who considers themselves a nerd has had to seen Star Wary.

Yep, I may be the only person in the whole entire world who hasn't seen any of the movies. And not because I haven't had access to them but because, in all honesty, I have had no interest in seeing them.

I like some space movies, but this one has never drawn me in. And, like my hesitation with Doctor Who, I'm afraid it's nerdiness will suck me in.

So I haven't seen them. I haven't even made the attempts to. And apparently in nerd land, or being a human being land, this disqualifies in terms of labeling myself a nerd.

And today of all days I learned that the 4th is a huge stars day. Everyone at work kept saying things like "my the fourth be with you' while I shrugged my shoulders and went about my own solitary business.
When someone asked what was wrong, I mumbled something along the lines of 'i don't give a shit about Star Wars day' and sulked away. Because May 4th will never be Stars Wars for me. It will always be Elijah's birthday. It will always be some day that we won't be able to celebrate with him. It'll always be a day where I'd like to acknowledge he existed among the stars just for a little while.

Grief continues to be a very weird thing. I am more emotional around his birthday than the day he died. For the past two years my family and I have used July 4th as a celebration of his short life. We pretend that the fireworks that light the sky are for him in some weird celebratory way. That everyone is kissing the sky with their praises of him.

But on his birthday, I can't escape the reality that the day of his birth will always be difficult. It will always remind me that time continues to go on without him. That every year we get older and form new memories and bonds and yet he will always be a life interrupted in our story.

And I don't know anger. Not real anger anyway. I don't know how to be completely pissed at whomever for his death. I can only feel this incredible sadness around his birthday. I can only imagine who he would have been. And the truth is more devastating than fiction.

We weren't incredibly close to his mom (my brothers ditsy ex-girlfriend). She moved away before Elijah was born and remains in the Midwest somewhere. She was a nomadic sort of gal with no homestead and an eagerness to escape. We have stopped any and all communications with her even though she calls every once in a while to see how we are doing. We blame her in a way. We have our reasons.

And I know, that if he'd reached four my mom, brother and I would have been very distinct relatives to him. We would be voices on the phone. Corny birthday cards and oddly smiling people in photos to him. We wouldn't have known him that well, I wouldn't be able to tell you his favorite color or tv show. I wouldn't be able to describe his laughter or cries. I would only be able to tell you that I loved him because he was family. The first born son to my very immature brother.

Even then this reality of what his life at four would have been is not what keeps me up at night. It is not what makes me sad on the fourth of May. The toddler I imagine him being and the life I wished he would have had continues to weigh heavy. I am overcome by tears from time to time; at work, walking home, or in my room at night because what I mourn the most about his death is that he will never get to be a part of this stupid beautiful, terrifying and strangely comforting world.

He will never get to not watch Star Wars or misbehave in public to the point where my mom gives the evil eye. He will celebrate holidays with us or graduate kindergarten. He will never grow to hate or resent us, like we all do of our relatives. He will never grow to accept our craziness for love and to bury his face in our shoulders.

And everyday the world just keeps revolving and happening and going on. We just keep getting older and celebrating dumb Star Wars day and being alive ....and he's not here to be apart of it. And I don't think I'll ever get over that. I don't think it'll ever make sense of that in my mind.

His birthday continues to be difficult. We continue to talk about him as the 'baby'. As if he isn't really gone at all but instead just tucked away into some pocket of time we aren't allowed to access yet. As if he is hiding and waiting for us to find him.

But it's weird to say that with time, grief is becoming bearable. That the will pangs of sadness flood me even more than the did when he died, I am learning to adapt out of love. That with time, we aren't forgetting him, we are just learning to adapt around his absence. Out of love. It what keeps us going.

It makes it easier, knowing that while time is erasing the particulars of him from my memories that I can hold on to the fact that he continues to be loved (terribly) and missed (terribly) and mourned (terribly) on May 4th. A day that will forever be his. Out of love.

Here We Go Again.

2011-05-02T14:20:00.004-04:00

Because my job is awesome (wait for it) and fair (wait for it) and distributes hours evenly among employees (wait for it) I have four days off this week. Four. Can you sense the sarcasm.

On Wednesday the schedule for this week was posted and I nearly cried when I saw that I would only be working Sunday, Wednesday and Saturday. Three days of short five hour closing shifts. Thanks to Evil Manager, I am not going to make any money this week, which won't help my increasing brokeassness.

I called my mom in near panic when I saw the schedule and she said I should go to Evil Manager and say something. That I should explain that I know that hours are being slashed left and right but that I can't live off off of three days. I can't even kind of live off of three days. But I hate having to explain my financial situation to people. I hate having to bring up the fact that I am supporting myself solely from this job and can barely do so with this money alone.

I am still applying to jobs, writing 'look at me' cover letters, and running to my phone every time it rings hoping that it is some employer but my spirits have been a little low (even with new doctor who episodes airing) and this Le Sad Store mess almost put me out of commission. I feel all over the place and tired and general disinterest in anything outside of sleep.

But time is not on my side. I don't really have the luxury of wallowing for too long. Some days I have to tell myself to keep moving forward, despite the hurdles that continue to present themselves.

I feel like we should still be in march. I don't know what the hell happened to April or why it is already the 2nd of May but summer is right around the corner and any thought I had of having a job by the first of may is completely out the window.

It's strange. Very strange. To think that only months ago I thought I would have a job by now and yet I am still in the same situation, if not worse. I am still at Le Sad Store, I am still broke as broke can get and I I still have no concrete idea of what I will be doing in the next few months.

I just need concrete ways to get from my ideas to reality. Which is very hard to do because I am a daydreamer. But I'd rather sit down and map out what exactly I need to do in order to get me where I need to be, rather than dreaming up a life I am not any closer to having.

I am envious of the people around me who have actual plans for the future, none involving being at Le Sad Store.Evan is taking up bar tending classes in the city so he can get some sort of license. People still in school are either going abroad or taking some time off to hang out with friends at the beaches near by.

And me, while I'm starting to feel like a staple at the store, the one constant thing there that everyone can reference back to. The person who isn't 'going anywhere'.

I am frustrated, which is terrible to be when everything around me is in bloom. I am not much of a green thumb, i have the worst allergies in the world, and I am not really a fan of hot weather but with Summer coming around I feel some form excitement in my belly for the warmth and possibility.

The greyness of winter is all but forgotten. It's as if I went to bed one rainy night and woke up to green lawns filled with tulips. No lie. And outside of my general frustration and resentment, I am as excited about summer. I am going to buy skirts (because they are cheap and not heavy) and t-shirts to replace my current wardrobe of sweaters and pants. I want to buy a plant for my room along with de-cluttering the place. And I am storing up recipes to try when I have the kitchen all to myself.

I am even planning small trips to the city. Nothing as epic as my birthday, but I am obsessed with finding another garden retreat. And the zoo, central park and other outdoorsy things are on my brain. Which is a good thing. I need a break from my routine. My birthday extravaganza put me in such a great mood that I hope to replicate the same optimism and enthusiasm that ushered March in.

Because I know loan repayments are just around the corner. I know this. And I know that the job hunt is tiresome and daunting (despite my valiant efforts to do so). But I I have to put things in perspective, and I have to keep my spirits up and I can't drop anchor here, even if more sleepless nights are in my future.

There are things I really have to contemplate. I really must figure out if going to England for a production scheme is realistic (though the thought is the most ideal aspect). Or if I can tolerate or afford grad school ( I really don't want to go to grad school) or if I should just get a new job altogether as Le Sad Store seems to have no space for me anymore.

I don't know. All the thinking makes me tired, weary and a little angry but with April out of the picture I can focus on making waves in May. Something has to change soon. I know I say this a lot and by now it sounds like a broken record, but it has to for my sanity and peace of mind.

And with four days off this week I minus well use the time to figure some things out.

Exhausted Kitty.

2011-04-28T20:13:00.005-04:00

this week beat the crap out of me.

Call me when it's over.

~Beckett

Tee Hee.

2011-04-23T10:55:00.002-04:00

So I may have requested to have today off just so I can watch the season premier of Doctor Who tonight.

I know, I know, very lame and nerdy bordering on geek like territory. But I just couldn't imagine being at work, until close, with unruly teenagers and despondent co-workers on a very beautiful rainy day while Doctor Who was on. I just couldn't.

And for some reason this week just beat the crap out of me. I had so many things to do, not enough time to do them all but I was too much of a hardheaded person to space the events out. I felt all kinds of spread thin and exhausted.

So while my reasons may be nerdy and now I am a day short of making money, I do not care. It's Doctor Who day. And it's rainy which always evokes feelings of England. And I couldn't be happier.

I meet the coolest Who fan the other day. The kid was like 12 and was shopping in the teen department with his mom. I was helping a truly unpleasant man a few shelves down when I turned to see the boy holding a doctor who box set. I ditched the customer quickly with a 'have a good day' and went up to the kid.

"shows coming out tomorrow are you excited?" I asked. I was not expecting much of a response outside of 'yeah, i guess'. Instead he stood up quickly and exclaimed:

"I've been waiting for months now. the show is sooooo good and I love Matt Smith as the Doctor, I want to watch all the episodes before tomorrow but I don't think I'll have the time. And my sister is coming home from China tomorrow. China and we love the show and watch it together and I bought this for her with gift cards I got for my birthday and we plan on spending the day watching the series at home with our parents. I'm so excited"

I almost hugged him. I wanted to laugh he was so excited. By the time he finished he was very red faced and grinning from ear to ear. Instead of giving the kid a bear hug, I said something about there being an all day marathon tomorrow (today) and that he could catch some of the old seasons on BBC America as well.

His mom joined into the conversation as well, to see who her son was talking to, and said that while she wasn't as big of as fan as her son she enjoys watching the show with her kids. It's become a family thing. I got all kinds of weepy and happy when she admitted this, and wished them a happy Who premiere night when they left the store.

I have some reservations about getting older and the social expectations of marrying, settling down, and having kids. At 25, most of the people I went to high school with have married their high school sweethearts or college beaus and have popped out at least one child by now.

Their online life consists of profile pics of bland looking children and status updates about potty training and breast feeding. It seems all so blah, and yuck. Especially because I do not want any of that.

Obviously I am not so conventional when it comes to domestic living. I am a 'selfish' single person who likes being responsible only for my own wants. I am at that weird age where my past life as a 18 year high school senior relying on my mother for stability comfort and money parallel the life I will have as a career 'girl' who will have to asses her life socially, romantically and professionally in the future.

In this awkward middle place, my perspective about child me and adult me is very terrifying and tear inducing. I can only look left to reminisce about being a teenager and my home life from those turbulent teen days (which when I think about now weren't all that bad or turbulent. But rather nice and simple and easy compared to life now) and to the right I am anxious and excited about who I will be( ten years from now) and the people I will have in my life, and all the prospects of adult living that will come with.

And sometimes when I do think about what I would like in ten years, a family is up there somewhere. A distant foggy image of them anyway, where I am a mom to a nice pre-teen boy who purchases (with birthday gift cards) his sister a dvd of a show the whole family watches just because it brings happiness to them all.

I miss being home some days. I miss my mom and my brother. And at 25, I can only miss my place in a family unit because I am so far away from my own version of it, but so far from creating one for myself.

There I go thinking to much again.

The point is, Doctor Who is coming on tonight and that kid reminded me why I have no reason to be ashamed about loving the show. It's amazing. Matt Smith is amazing and the story lines are captivating. I am excited to no end that my next few Saturdays will involve geeking out to Doctor Who.

I have my chips, soda and food ready for my night of adventure (and British accents) while I drool over the hotness that is Matt Smith (I really must met a nice British boy).

I was suppose to watch the premier with friends tonight but the rain has deterred me and honestly I would rather spend the day inside. To myself. I like having no plans and the idea of even looking outside is too much of an effort.

I love that I am accepting how much of a nerd I am. It has made life a lot easier and a lot more fulfilling.

Epic Fail.

2011-04-21T10:27:00.010-04:00

Is it possible to be both a great babysitter and awful one? I think so.

Ever since the success of my last babysitting stint I knew I would be sitting again come Spring Break. Outside of not being able to sleep on my day off, I generally like babysitting. It's easy money, I get to stay home and Nicole, my landlady's daughter, is a spunky,creative, nine year old who is both funny and introspective.

We had a blast the last time. We colored mandalas, listened to new and old music and watched a crap load of Disney movies on Netflix. I got paid $100 for the two days of child watching. That's pretty amazing, if you ask me.

The last time I babysat Nicole I promised that next time around we would watch Matilda and make cupcakes.

She mentioned to once that she isn't much of a reader which almost crushed my nerd heart beyond repair. At nine I was so in to reading that I can't remember a time when I didn't have a book in my hand. My mom, brother and I spent more time at the library than any other place. We even had designated reading time. When we would all camp out in the living room with our respective books, reading until the hour was up.

But then again, we didn't that many distraction in the 90's either. No Internet, few video games and I don't even think a cellphone seemed possible back then. So when she said she didn't like to read, I sort of got all 'but why, it's so awesome. I mean, it's not an Ipod or anything but reading takes you places man"

But she said 'nothing really interest her' in books and that 'reading is hard'. The nerd in me started talking about all the books I read as a kid and how much fun my friends and I had talking about the ones we finished(a white lie). That yeah, some books are hard to read but it's because they are meant to challenge you. I sounded all too much like a book nerd but reading is awesome folks, kids need to know this.

She seemed a little intrigued by my excitement and asked"what kind of books" are interesting to read.

"you know, books like, that...."

But I got tripped up. I was about to mention the last book that I read the one about a dead teenager in some small new england town and the cover up the town folks are involved in. But then I remembered she's only nine and I'm 25 and the last children's or teen book I read was "the world we knew" which I really wasn't that interested in to be honest about.

So I said:

"you know the one about that.... girl who name is Matilda...and her mind powers something or another.'

I don't know why this Roald Dahl book flew out of my mouth. I love the movie Matilda but do not remember reading the story as a kid. I may have taken the short route and just watched the movie instead. I think I may have down that with all the Roald Dahl books to be honest.

But my explanation was good enough because Nicole was all: 'Omg! Can we watch Matilda the next time we hang out. Please. Please. Oh, and then we can read the book and stuff'. What was I going say? no.

So, with Tuesday just around the corner I had Netflix send me a copy of Matilda and bought cupcake making goodies prepared for our nerd day of Roald Dahl and sweets.

But at the last minute, landlady asked if I would mind watching Nicole and her friend, Julia. She apologized for the short notice but knew that I could handle watching both girls after my success the last time. I agreed, because it was the night before, but quickly wondered if two pre-teens would be interested in a nerd day.

The answer is no.

A already jaded and tough, Julia, spent the first hour giving me the stank eye while we waited for Nicole to wake up. I tried to engage her in 'so how's it going' pleasantries but she was having none of it and I quickly felt like the uncool older person trying to make someone like her. I knew that until I was deemed worthy by Nicole, I would be given the stank eye all day.

When Nicole finally woke up, I feed them breakfast and listen to them both explain to me what the word 'shit' meant. You know just encase I didn't know.

It was then that I knew my cupcake making, Matilda watching plans were not going to work. I needed to tire out these kids quickly to make the day go by faster. They spent most of the morning wanting to watch Piranha 3D on youtube. When I asked 'don't you think that movie is a little scary for you guys' they admitted they'd already seen most of it but wanted to show me the gory parts.

So we watched a version dubbed in Dutch, while I reminded them that the piranhas in the movie weren't real and that Adam Scott and Jerry O'Connell should not be refer to as 'those old guys' in the movie.

They then asked questions like 'why do boys like boobs' and went through my cell phone asking if "matt, josh' and every other male name in my phone were boyfriends of mine.

I quickly decided that I needed to get this kids away from my phone, out of the house and far from any and all youtube videos featuring Piranhas' (and references to people my age as old).

So I took them to the movies with the food money landlady left to order pizza. They'd already seen Rio (le sigh. i wanted to see it) so Soul Surfer was our only option. They were actually very excited about this film and it made me remember how impressionable pre-teens are when it comes to films targeted to their age.

While I was rolling my eyes at the sheer cheesy of the movie (yes, I know Bethany Hamilton gets her arm torn off by shark, overcomes tragedy and accomplishes her dream of being a pro surfer. But the movie was a scene away from a Hallmark picture and there were so many God references I was uncomfortable) the girls were glued to the movie.

There are several scenes where you know the produces were like 'we want people to cry....now". At one point as I was suppressing laughter at a truly corny scene, I turn to see that Nicole is crying. Bawling actually. She is rubbing her eyes and breathing deeply and I thought she was choking on the popcorn. But no she was simply 'overcome' by this terrible terrible movie (with Helen Hunt and Dennis Quaid looking hella old).

At this point I check to make sure Julia is alright only to see that she too is consumed with tears.
When I asked them what's wrong they both say that the movie is 'so inspirational they want to be a one armed surfer too'.

I shit you not!!!

After the movie, I dragged both red faced children from the theater and ask them what the wanted to do next. There response.

'Man that shark was scary. Can we watch the movie Jaws when we get home. I hear the shark in that movie is scarier".

Yes folks. After being traumatized by killer piranhas, a shark who tears a girls arm off (a scene in the movie that made me jump) they both begged me to watch Jaws. Begged me. And because I freaking love that movie I said:

Alright, but the moment you two freak out we are turning off the movie and watching Disney.

So we head back home and I allow them to watch the first 15 minutes and last 20 minutes of Jaws. I didn't see the harm in it, until both recoiled in terror as the shark nearly eats poor Richard Dreyfus.

I got up once, during the boat shark scene, to go to the bathroom and they gave me the 'hey where are you going, you aren't going to like leave us during the movie are you' stare. So i stayed.

If these kids aren't traumatized by Tuesday they must have hearts of steel. It was a ocean infused day of monsters and missing limbs. I had to leave soon after the moms came (to meet up with some people at work) but I did hear both exclaim that I was the best babysitter ever and that they wanted to do the day all over again.

Good Job, Beckett. Good Job.

Next time I think I'll stick to Roald Dahl and popcorn. Lesson learned.

This week has been long and stressful. I feel all over the place and disconnected from everyone and everything. I was suppose to turn in that reader response last week but only did so today after staying up until 3am to write a two page response.I've never felt such ambivalence for a book before and found nothing exciting at all to say.

The bookstore drudgery continues and our crew is getting smaller than ever. ANDI may have inadvertently pissed of Dan, hot new manager, to some degree that has caused uneasy tension between us.

The only highlight of the week was that I finally saw Scream 4 and geeked out big time when Neve Campbell appeared on the screen.

But everything else remains the same. I applied to handful of jobs this week and am near my desperation point. Everyone around me is applying to graduate school programs because they too cannot find a job in this economy. And it is making me uneasy about my own decision to not pursue school, for now.

I'm just not sure if I want to go to grad school or what I would actually get a degree in because I'm not really sure what I want to do. Graduate school is not an option right now especially because the thought of having any more student loans gives me so much anxiety that I'd rather focus my energy of getting a job. Any job at this point.

I simply need more money and better prospect and those thoughts alone have worn me down.

In other news, I have finally attached a link to Grilled Cheese on the side though.

Because a lot of people from my job, and potential employers, have access to that journal I ask that if you do visit, please don't make any references to Everything Was. I'd like the keep these two spheres as separate as possible and the thought of people from my job accessing my inner thoughts here is mortifying.

Outside of that feel free to visit and say hi. My username is Just_A_Girl (for commenting purposes) and entries are all book, movies and television related. So far I only have a few posts up (both in regards to Scream 4) but I'll provide some more random pop culture entries every week or so.

Now time for sleep. I have Saturday off and can't wait for it to get here already. This week has been the longest and I could use a break away from things.

~Beckett.

Longest Day.

2011-04-19T10:09:00.005-04:00

Babysitting. Scream 4. Reading a 400 page manuscript. Eat. Sleep.

What have I gotten myself into. I some how managed to plan every possible excursion on the same day.

I am patiently waiting on the landlady's daughter to wake up so she can entertain her friend, who i am also babysitting. So far the other girl and I have said all but three words to each other, and because I have this general belief that kids will warm up to you when they won't I have stayed in the kitchen to avoid forced conversation.

I know, I'm like the best babysitter ever.

I planned a day of watching movies and baking cupcakes but with two kids to watch that doesn't seem like the smartest idea. Instead, if the sleeping kid every wakes up: maybe i should check on her, I might take them to the movies. It will kill 2 hours and I can possibly take a nap in the theater. I'll set my phone on vibrate or something and then jolt up towards the end of the movie.

And because Tuesdays are $6 dollars a flick day at the theater I will see Scream 4. Did I mention that I have yet to even make a dent in the manuscript I agreed to read. Oh, I looked at it. I scanned quickly but I have no interest in finishing the thing. It's all kinds of blah, the pacing slow and it has to do with a graduate student finishing up school. I can't even come up with a bad or positive thing to say about it. I am ambivalent.

I really should go upstairs and see if Nicole is okay. I know kids sleep in late but it's like 10:16 and the other child is minutes away from booking. I can tell. I would be mortified if she was like 'can i go home now, Nicole's not coming and you've been on your computer all morning'.

Dear god let me survive this. I feel like the day is going to shit and it's only just begun.

You Can't Freak Out Now Gurl.

2011-04-13T19:39:00.011-04:00

Memba' Debbie Downer? My boss from the library and really good friend while I was a student at USC.

Well turns out she has a writing gig for me that I am a bit scared yet excited about. Let me explain.

Yesterday I officially launched Grilled Cheese. I use the word launch very loosely. It's not really a professional website, it's just my 'i really need to have a web page featuring clips for potential employees to access:so that they know i don't suck as a writer and hire me for a gosh darn job already'.

Because I don't have any legit writing samples as a 'professional writer' creating a web page with blog posts I could use for clips seemed....like the perfect solution. Because lets be honest, I am a horrible at networking and selling myself (not in the Pretty Woman sort of way) and providing samples of my writer will be useful as I try to start some sort of career.

The fact that I am horrible with this whole networking thing is probably why finding a job has been damn near impossible. As an introverted person, I rarely like putting myself out there. I hate having to sell who I am and what I'm good at. I am not at all competitive in the 'look I'm way better than this person' game. I'd rather just fade into the back, remain a quiet observe and relish in the silence.

For some reason I have always associated 'networking' with sucking up.I mean I understand the importance of it, I do. But I can't get past my apprehensions that networking involves bugging someone into liking you.

There is this one customer who comes into the store every time we have a big author event. He is a college student who attends the hipster college near by and spends the bulk of his nights at the store with his friend drinking lattes in the fiction aisle (and leaving the cups on the shelves like a asshat).

Any time a relatively famous author/media personality visits the store he makes sure to be in attendance. He has a business card and everything (i saw him hand one out to the NBC new anchor who stopped by a few months ago) and because I usually end up working the events I tend to watch him act all cheesy when he gets his book signed; making sure to throw his name out there along with his interest in pursuing a career in broadcast media to whoever is visiting.

His approach is probably very effective. Not probably, it is what some would ambitious.That kid will make it...trust me. Even though I loathe the sight of him in the store, I know that kids like him always make it (somewhere)because they are not embarrassed about being pushy and in your face.When he graduates college he will have more contacts than I do now. I know this for a fact.

But to me he is the epitome of a brown-noser. His approach is feels tactless and (even) pushy. And the odd things is, I know that my statement is false. I know that networking is the smartest thing a person could do. Especially for someone like me who wants to join a creative field. Especially in this economy. But for some reason I have never been able to disassociate the two and I am terrified at the thought of having to do so in order to have a career.

This Grilled Cheese thing is my feeble attempt at networking. A small creative venture that hopefully will prove to someone, outside of my mom, that I am passionate about writing. Or at least that I have a strong storytelling ability

I've mentioned the webpage at work some, especially to those who have questioned my ability to even formulate a sentence. But pursuing this writing portfolio seems daunting. I was actually very nervous about creating Grilled Cheese and putting my work out there.

Writing journal entries about my everyday life is easy. Sharing my thoughts and feelings and obsessive thoughts to whoever all of you here is....cathartic. Trying to create a blog that solely represents my voice as a 'writer' is terrifying and stressful. Trying to convey a sense of voice and identity without talking about Mcabs or Le Sad Store seems so impersonal I don't know if the things I write there will read...honest.

I intend to link Grilled Cheese to my resume, as a lot of people in the creative industry are social networking whores, but I feel anxious and guilty for wanting the work I create on Grilled Cheese...to be good.

So far I've generated a few views to my site. A couple of 'isn't that nice beckett started a little blog' from my employees and dare I say one questionable 'a writing website-like anyone is going to read it' comment from a sort of friend.

However Debbie Downer was ecstatic about this venture. She has been nothing but positive since my big reveal. She sent me an email and everything when I made the announcement a few days ago. And she has officially joined the small cheering squad that has accumulated on my side.

I posted my first 'welcome to my site' entry yesterday and was relieved that at least the awkward introduction is out of the way. Now I can solely write reviews, critiques and other professional writing clips and started padding up a virtual portfolio.

Of course, Debbie Downer congratulated me on my first 'piece' and then added that she may have a writing opportunity for me if I was interested(hell yes) in response to my creative mojo.

Debbie Downer has been an artist for years outside of working at the library of my Alma Mater. She mainly draws sketches, paints larger pieces and creates figurines out of clay.While she has shown me some of her creations in the past, I did not know the extent of her craft until recently.

A few weeks ago she got in touch with a friend who owns a gallery in downtown Columbia. Said friend and owner is interested in displaying some of her art work in the gallery this summer.It would be a small show featuring a bunch of other works by local artists. It's a huge opportunity nonetheless and she asked me if I could supply a small poem (or prose) to be attached to her drawings. A story to weave the images together in a poetic way. I will be given 50% of anything that sells at the gallery.

AND she wants also to eventually turn the project into a book published by a small publishing house nearby. I'm freaking out ya'll.

This is great and grand on some many levels. She sent me links to some of her current work and the drawings are amazing. Gothic, Celtic, quirky images of men and women on the outskirts of society. Freaks and Mystical beings draped in Victorian outfits and even a mask or two. I am totally amazed that she would even consider me for the project yet alone share half the profits from it.

Of course, I jumped on to the project as soon as I finished her email. And we have chatted back and forth about the collboration.

But now of course doubt fills my body and and i am petrified by having this writing opportunity. While we are a long way from showing her work in that gallery, I am concerned that perhaps my words won't do her art justice. While the images are hers the world I create for them is all my own. She has given me complete artistic range...and I am scared that I am not prepared for this. That in some way I cannot create anything worth being seen outside of my head.

I am suddenly inundated with writing/reading projects. Though all small, they have overwhelmed me in some way. The guy from work who questioned my 'web page' actually asked me a couple of weeks ago to help him set up an etsy shop. He sells steam-punk jewelery and wants me to write the description for things he will sell soon. I generally like the pieces he has brought to work and agreed to write up descriptions for him (as that too is a possible means of income. anything will help at this point).

Along with that, I took this freaking no pay reader position ( i read manuscripts and then compose reader responses for them) with the literary agency that did not hire me.While unpaid it will look good on my resume, but it also means that my days off are sometimes spent reading incredibly dull manuscripts.

And NOW along with Grilled Cheese; where I have to restrain myself from writing about....well...myself, I have (though honestly I want) to create a story and subsequent words for Debbie's creations.

While I am excited about all of these ventures, I am worried that I cannot live up to my potential. That like every aspect of my life, my feelings of inadequacies (though unfounded) will stunt me and limit my contribution to any of these projects; even the ones that mean the most to me.

It's anxiety, I know this. But the pervasive thoughts along with my other anxieties about money and loans have kept me up at night. And I'm freaking out that I can't handle what I want because I'm so use to not feeling like I deserve any of it.

Silly, I know.

Grilled Cheese

2011-04-11T09:57:00.008-04:00

The weekend has come to a close and I think I am reclaiming my mojo. Thank God.

As usual Le Sad Store was a hectic mess the last two days. While no one called out due to hangovers, customers still busied themselves with hanging out in the store and trashing the place.

The bookstore is a weird place. Every so often some asshole of a customer makes a remark like 'I'm so sad that bookstore are closing' while paying for...a book. I usually have one response to this 'yeah, i guess. your total is going to be_____'. I refuse to engage with some people. I know it's rude but I've gotten trapped in some truly dull conversations because I was being polite.

The truth is there is a culture to 'bookstores'. While book sales are decreasing, the amount of people who just like 'hanging out' in bookstores is...constant. Bookstores are designed to feel homey and inviting; with couches and tables and a cafe where you can grab something to eat and spend all day wandering about. And while some bookstore chains are shuting down, i think we have a while before bookstore becomes things of the past.

While profits are a big deal to corporate folks they are completely ignoring the huge fact that most people just like hanging out around books and magazines. And this is why we get repeat customers. Or as we call them regulars.

If they are not there every day they are every other day. I know for a fact that I despise the 'regulars' the most. Some are there as soon as we open and do not leave until we close. Most are such frequent 'hang-outers' that they feel apart of the general staff.

I've had a few try to engage me in conversations about the store. As if at the end of the night they too are stuck cleaning up. And others tell stupid jokes like 'you guys sure do work here a lot, they must have cots in the back for you'. Excuse me, I'm here a lot? This is coming from the guy who comes in early just so he can put his belonging on the treasured couch in cafe. Yeah.

I only bring this up because the other day on of them addressed me by my first name, as if we had known each other for years. I hate when people who don't know me call my name.

Sometimes you help a person and the will stare at your name tag just to say "thanks ____". But I am really weird about my name. Everyone ends up giving me some sort of nickname anyone that I only prefer my friends and family to use it. I just don't think customers need to be on a first name basis with me. Unless they are or look Sufjan Stevens.

So when I was walking down the aisle and heard my name being called by a person whose voice I was not familiar with I didn't turn around. Seriously. But the person kept getting closer and the sound of my name got louder and when I turned around some guy that I helped ONCE, over the phone, was inches from my face.

Because he now had my attention he went on and on about some question that he knew I could answer. I smiled, nodded my head, looked at my imaginary clock and then said 'yeah, that sounds awesome guy whose name i don't know'. I did mumble the last part because I knew he wouldn't hear me, which he didn't. He then smiled, thanked me for my help and walked away

I'm officially changing my name at the store. Maybe I'll be a Lynn or Alice. Something so unlike me that I won't care when someone yells it.

I hate retail. The only part of it I love about it is the people I work with. Even when they get on my nerves I truly know some amazing, talented and funny people. If it weren't for the customers I really wouldn't hate my job as much.

But I don't want to be at Le Sad Store forever just because I like my co-workers. And I don't want to be Josh or Blue or any other of the million bookstore employees working there until there big break occurs.

There is this girl, a' regular', about 19 who has made friends with half of the staff. She is sweet, nice and wants to be a writer once she graduates school. A couple of weeks ago she asked me if I could edit some of her stories because someone told her that I had publishing experience. I kind of looked at her like 'who are you and what the hell are you talking about' but said i wouldn't mind looking at some of her writings because she knows McAbs.

She hasn't sent me anything though, maybe because i added that i am uber critical and honest to a fault when it comes to writing. However, she has injected herself like she is part of the staff. The other day she positioned herself around customer service for an hour or so just to hang out with us. I felt annoyed and perplexed because people who don't have to put up with the BS of working at a bookstore should not make the store their home.

As I was heading back to customer service I passed her talking to Josh who was telling her that most likely she would end up working at a bookstore for a while (maybe this one) to which she replied 'I can't wait, it seems like so much fun and a writer thing to do'.

My heart sank and I understood then my annoyance with her. Working at Le Sad Store is not fun. The people are but the actual prospects are not. And it isn't the 'writer' thing to do. It's just another one of those sub cultured glamorization of a place that only exists in 90's indie flicks. Maybe that is what drew me to it, but it is the reality that is pushing me away.

So while apart of me reclaiming my mojo is stepping up the job hunt, it also involves stepping up my writer game. I am months away from having to repay my loans. I am in no position to do that currently, not even close and I definitely have no intention of leaving new york. They would have to kick me out by force.

Currently, I am taking steps to make writing my top priority again. I admit, I've been slacking lately. And by lately I mean every since I graduated school. I know that i want to be a writer or rather a creative person doing creative things for a living. Whatever that means. But if I don't at least do something with writing, it will forever me a hobby that now I can't even really say I do on a regular basis. Or I will continue to be a cliche bookstore worker hanging out with creative but extremely lazy people.

So along with writing on Everything Was, uploading pictures on Quiet Girl I've decided that I need a professional blog to contribute to.

I recently saw a post for a production assistant for a really famous Children's Production company but for some reason they asked for a writing sample along with my cover letter and resume. Outside of this blog I don't have any writing samples. I mean I could edit and submit on of my entries here but the post are way too personal for me to do even that.

So i thought, maybe if I created a blog solely for reviews, story excerpts and general not personal musings, I would be able to use this as my writing portfolio. Right?

So far the working title is Grilled Cheese, and I look to contribute some pop-culture, nostalgia ridden, 20 something year old rants every Tuesday and Thursday (along with my more personal rants here of course). Once I have my 'writing website' in working order I'll post a link. While I sometimes loathe some our of technological advances (um, the fact that anyone with a computer or camera, while lacking talent, can be famous) I think having a place where my writing clips can be accessible will be another networking opportunity.

For some reason creating Grilled Cheese makes me feel productive again. While I still have a million and one things to worry about (loan repayment, job hunting) i don't want to neglect the one thing that makes me who i am.

And like James Franco said 'no one is going to ask a new writer to write'. I know I quoted James Franco but former Daniel Desario of Freaks and Geeks has a point. I'm just saying.

Newness.

2011-04-07T23:05:00.010-04:00

I just spent the last few hours deleting old pictures from my flickr account.

I'm a sneaky private chick, which is why i have not added a link to the flickr account I created 3 years old on this blog.

Debbie Downer from my days as a library shelver suggested I join, because she knew that I liked to take pictures and outside of facebook and this here journal I wanted another place to post pics.

I love flickr. I visit it almost daily to favorite new and interesting shots. If I were a more ambitious person I would probably want to take up photography in some fashion. I like the idea of taking photos and writing up things about the image. In the bizarro version of my current self, I would have been a photojournalist. Traveling around the world photographing amazing and tragic things.

While flickr is awesome there are some limitations as a free member. I can upload as many photos as I want but I only have access to view 200 of the most current images. The rest, while still uploaded, are not visible to me or anyone else. I could of course upgrade to a premium account for $25/year and have full access to all the photos I have taken but I don't see the point.

Photography has become a hobby because writing isn't anymore. It's something I have come to realize is not a bad thing. I mean I admit, it is sort of the drawback. I miss the days when I could spend hours in bed, writing stories in a notebook that literally cost me a dollar. But now that I know I eventually want it to be a full time thing in some capacity, writing (excluding journal writing) is less personal and leisurely. It, in some way, is a job I am working on perfecting.

And that is why I have substituted taking pictures in its place. Snapping photos creates the same sense of calm and excitement that writing does. And the satisfaction is immediate thanks to digital photography (though I am looking to venture back into the world of film photography). I quite enjoy the freedom of photography and being able to post them on Flickr is cool.

I discovered a loophole a few weeks back in regards to the free member limitations. A loophole that allows me to see some of the old shots I have taken in the 3 years since I joined. By deleting some of my less than stellar pictures (mainly current shots of my sneakers) I gain an old photo from the archive.

It's so weird going through my pictures I took when I was 22. Not as weird as reading posts from six years ago but the feeling is generally the same.

Despite reveling in each reveal of an old photo, I found myself deleting a lot of the older pictures in favor of my new ones. They pictures from 'way back when' make me uncomfortable. I feel like such a different person I can't imagine that there was a time that that me ever existed. On this blog i never ever feel that way. Writing continues to be my heart. It reveals and affirms who i am on a daily basis. But pictures not so much. I remember taking a bunch of the older pictures out of loneliness. or boredom.

They don't so much as tell a story but rather bring up feelings of isolation. The shots were always very fleeting, askew and out of focus images. Things I shot on a whim. Things to fill in the emptiness. I know I should prefer the old images and what they captured but I couldn't.

I use to hate when my mom threw out things, especially because I am such a pack rat. I will keep notes that I myself have written just because I can. I hold on to everything because there are parts of me that are very dismissive and flaky. I hold on to things to remember that it meant something. And when I am ready to chunk it away (or delete the archives), it is only because I have resolved myself to that past and am ready to move forward.

This has nothing to do with this blog. God, i can't even contemplate this journal not being a part of my life. Lately I have been trying to understand my loss of energy. The mojo has left the building again and I am in a desperate search to find it again. And I think it is because I need to find a way to move on from my current situation here. I need something to start happening or I will freak the hell out.

Because I have always felt displaced (and an outsider) I will (forever)be uncomfortable with idea of creating and maintaining a homestead. The thought of settling down anywhere is just terrifying. Of course the idea is not outside of my periphery but it still caused night terrors. I fear that i will always desire something new and spend all my time wondering about 'what's over there' rather than 'what I have'. Especially if I am not sure if what I have is what I want.

Now that March has come and gone I feel....dismal. It's like I've returned home from a long vacation and am settling back into the grind again. Except, I wasn't away. I haven't gone anywhere. Why then do I have this very unsettling feelings of lethargy.

And I realize a bunch of it has to do with newness. Or rather my lack of it. I feel like I spent the bulk of march making room for something new and exciting to fill the void that is post grad existence. March was flipping amazing. I felt confidant, and happy and that things were finally falling into place. Like those old pictures from flickr, i deleted the crap out of things to make room for better things. Like mentally I had a detox of negativity. It was great.

And then March came to a close and April ushered itself in and it's as if life has returned to normal. I feel all light and load-less yet nothing has changed. And if this continues to be normal I don't know what I'll do. I am worn out by the routine. This is worse than the seven year itch. I feel like I am in a novel where the protagonist is living a very boring existence and hers dreams of escaping are met with resistance. Oh my god, maybe I am living a freaking a Richard Yates novel. Please dear god no.

Whatever the case I need something to happen. I need to make something happen. I need a plan. I then need to execute that plan, and then finalize the sucker. I feel an incredible void in my life that I finally realize is unfulfillment. Hell, I know I'm only 25 and I don't need to have my shit together. But at least being on the path to 'shit togetherness' is better than nothing. Right?

April Showers.

2011-04-05T11:22:00.006-04:00

So far I am loving the weather April has ushered in.

I am not a huge fan of spring because I have terrible allergies and general disinterest in the bug population making its appearance soon.

I am more of a fall chick. When the leaves start changing colors I get a small pang of excitement in my belly that I cant suppress. It is pure glee and excitement because the fall is full of wind chills and shimmering sunlight. AND i get to pull out all my sweaters and cardigans, which I wear all year round anyway, but it is most appropriate then.

But Spring is slowly winning me over. It's not too hot or too cold and these random spring showers have put me in a very relaxed mood. I wake up and there is no chance in hell the sun is coming out (at least until 4pm). The clouds are thick, heavy and gray. Spring wind is all consuming and powerful and it bangs against my windows during naps; though some might think this annoying I love the sound and have had some pretty awesome naps because of it

I don't mean to write this much about the weather but it is terribly beautiful outside. And for some reason the stillness and beauty and somewhat delicate nature of April reminds me of England. Of course I've never been to England but I imagine that it is always a little grey and rainy there. And anything that slightly resembles England in my heart puts me at ease.

The last few days around here have been hectic and ease is what i crave because of it. While I thought about attending Josh's big party I of course talked myself out of it by the end of the night on Friday. I was super annoyed that he decided to throw his party last minute only because a bulk of the people he invited (including myself) were schedule to close that night. ACTUALLY Josh was also schedule to work Friday night, but he of course did not (could not) reschedule his own party. So he attempted to find someone to cover his shift and when he couldn't he just ended up calling out.

Of course Friday night was horrible at Le Sad store. While Josh and friends got uber drunk and frisky Le Sad Store was understaffed and invaded by teenagers the whole night. Dan the closing manager that night and I felt all kinds of bad because we were a sinking ship and I had no idea how to keep us afloat.

I am beginning to have quite the crush on Dan. A school girl crush. I know. I know, it is totally wrong but he is such a nice guy I can't help myself. I recently heard a song by Kate Nash called Nicest Thing and it sums up my crush on him well.

He is my type on all levels. Smart, nerdy and in a band. He's like Ethan Hawke from every 90's movie I can name. And though I know it is completely dumb to have a crush on a manager type guy from work, I find myself thinking about him a lot.

Unlike my 'relationship' with McAbs I generally find myself wanting to be around Dan. And I am sure at least that he finds me an interesting to talk to. It's that whole 'god if you weren't like my boss I would consider you boyfriend material'.

I'm doomed.

Anyway,

Dan has a tendency of admitting when he is freaking out. Let's be honest he is only two years older than me and has no idea how he went from being a bookseller to a manager. There are times, especially when it is busy, when he will say something like 'I don't know if I can handle this' as if to break the obvious 'we are in trouble' tension. On Friday while I was also freaking out at customer service we both voiced our concerns about how we were going to survive the rest of the night with so little people (and terrible terrible teenagers).

I almost confessed that we had Josh to thank for half the store calling out but I held my tongue and made some half comforting remark that we would find 'someone to do this', 'right?' Though we managed all right that not, the party ended up fucking up the whole weekend at Le Sad Store. People were too hungover to come to work both Saturday and Sunday. Did I mention that I hate my job. With a passion.

I'm a little bit stressed about getting a new one. Loan repayment is months away and I will either need a whole new job or possibly two jobs to survive my post grad repayment phase. I really really don't want to have two jobs. I would much rather have one suckass jobs instead of two. This has been weighing on my mind a lot these days and I honestly to find something quick.

But I need energy to job hunt again. Lots of it. Seriously. I am sluggish these days which is not the greatest place to be mentally. The rain, while beautiful, is not helping much. I am in that place again where I wish things were a little different.

I love new york. I do. But there are some days when I feel like the city is taking a toll on me. Some days I wish I were more settled, instead of afloat. Some days I wish I understood what the hell I was suppose to be doing here. Outside of working at Le Sad Store or hanging out with friends. Becoming an adult is dreadful.

Going Through the Motions.

2011-03-31T16:27:00.008-04:00

Apparently my weekend was so awesome it has caused me to be MIA for a little bit. Sorry. I am suffering from a bad case of lethargy these days, and the weekend away from Le Sad Store has only added to this.

It's a brutal mix of 'I know I should be doing something but I'm really not feeling up to it'. While I celebrated the beginning of the month with a band (birthday, new job prospect, fire in my belly) and I am ending it on a much somber note (impending snow storm, more Le Sad Store bs, nervous belly).

I guess that march "comes in like a lion out like a lamb' phrase not only applies to the weather. Maybe it's stress. Maybe it's ennui (a word I like a lot). Maybe it's my want for things to be so much better than they are now but inability to make it so. Nonetheless I am restless, out of sorts of just going through the motions these days.

I think the weekend has something to do it. My two days of complete solitude were amazing. I lounged and danced and wished beyond hope that I could have more weekends where I am not at Le Sad Store. I venture outside of Saturday to collect some food from the grocery store. I may not know how to shop for clothes or shoes but when it comes to food and books (and music) I am awesome. It's as simple as that.

I headed to the supermarket extra early and bought fresh fruits and granola. I also picked up pretzels for my mason jar project. When I got home, I cleaned my very disgusting room and spent the rest of my day dancing uncontrollably and singing rather loudly.

When Sunday rolled around I had no plans outside of reading and listening to an album from the first track to the last. I have a tendency of buying only singles and the bulk of the albums on my itunes playlist are incomplete. So I spent Sunday listening to my archives. Coldplay's Parachute, Edie Brickell Shooting Rubberbands and Beach House Teen Dream.

When Sunday night came to a close I fought sleep. And not because the weekend was ending, I am use to that. But because I won't have another one until a) I get a new job or b) request another one off until I get a new job. I fear I won't have another weekend like that for a very longn time and there is something very upsetting about that.

When I finally succumb to sleep and Monday rolled around the cycle of worrying about things that I need to be worrying about began. So yeah, I've been a little out of it these days. I feel wayward and generally disinterested in things. And not in a depressive sort of way. I know they share similar characteristics but this is just general lack of focus and motivation this week.

I'm hoping my few plans for the weekend (two very different parties, one that I am definitely attending that other I will decide tomorrow night) will put me in a better and more active mood. And yeah, I definitely want and need to write more. I hate feeling sluggish. I hate not having the 'you can do it' fire in my belly. But after the awesomeness that was the month of March I can understand why my energy has been a little lately. It'll perk back up soon. I promise.

~Becks

Oh, and there is a dating debate going around that has me all sorts of confused lately. Apparently Dating is dead according to USA Today and Blue suggested that it's because the girls you want to date are in relationships and the ones who are available are single for a reason. WTF? This is a very guy centric view that is both grating and unnerving. I keep hearing that song by Dean Martin "You're Nobody Til' Somebody Loves You" which seems to suggest Blue's thought process but I don't think dating is dead. And single girls are not single because they aren't worthy of being with someone. Oh Blue, you have so much to learn.

I'll write more about this tomorrow.

Cheers to the Weekend.

2011-03-26T10:49:00.007-04:00

I can't believe I really have Saturday and Sunday off. I keep checking the time to make sure I am not late for work or some other nonsense only to realize that for the next two days I do not have to worry about being anywhere but home. It's the greatest feeling in the whole entire world.

I had quite the panic attack yesterday which made me even more ready for a few days to myself. Anyone dealing with any sort of anxiety is aware that panic attacks come with the package. My panic attacks have been less frequent since college. I haven't hid in any bathrooms to escape crowds in a very long time. You might not think this is huge but for me it is.

This doesn't mean that I don't suffer from a panic attack every now and then. I mean I am still very socially anxious. Large crowds turn my stomach into jelly and I have this unfounded endless thought that I am not interesting around other people.I often feel threatened when I am in a group of more than five people because I don't think I am interesting enough to hold anyone's attention. Like if we were on a desert island that for some reason could only sustain four people I would be booted off first because I have nothing to offer, not even great conversation.

It's illogical thinking. I know this. I do. But my brain doesn't. While social anxiety, for me, has a lot to do with my discomfort in large crowds it has more to do with my inability to separate myself from the constant thoughts that people are judging me. I have obsessive thoughts about perceptions (damn you high school) and that the person I think I am is not the person coming across to the people I am around. That that person is a lame awkward duck.

I am trying to bring some congruency to my life. I am trying to merge the two me's together into one whole congruent person. But it's hard. Especially because congruency often times means not over thinking things (which I do a lot), loosening up the reigns (but i adore control) and remembering how to breathe (but how do you do so underwater).

So having a panic attack yesterday (at work have you) felt like some huge setback. It was as crowded as crowded could be in Le Sad Store. On Fridays it's as if people got out of work early just to terrorize the store. While I like working in the kids department the amount of parents letting their children destroy the department was overwhelming. As a person who loves control, yesterday felt chaotic.

Trying to maintain a clean store was thrown out the window when parents from hell came in to the store with their evil spawn. They destroyed the place in a matter of hours. While the moms and dads drank their lattes and discussed plans for the summer, their babies went ape shit. They ran all over the place, throwing books on the floor, screaming, destroying merchandise. I went over to the area where they all were sitting and start cleaning up in hopes that this would inspire the parents to start picking up after their children. But no. They sort of looked at me as if I were hired helped and went about their business.

I felt so powerless. So powerless I was overcome with pangs of anxious thoughts. I felt a surge of jittery jitterness. Compounded with rapid thoughts that I'd lost control of the situation. I left the department for air, came back and felt myself tearing up. For the first time in a long time I wanted to hide in the bathroom. But the bathroom was full. So I went in the 'employee only' hallway. My chest felt tight. My palms were sweaty. And I could think only of my inability to assert myself better in the situation.

I was having an attack. An all too familiar one. Anxiety will always have a hold of me? Won't she.

I called the manager just as I was near tears hoping someone could explain to me why 'we' are not allowed to tell customers they can't let their kids play in the store like animals. Our new manager Dan picked up, trying to calm me down over the phone. I apologized profusely for the department being a mess but that being unable to approach customers anymore (a dumb ass policy) in regards to disruptions in the store isn't effective, especially in the kids department where this would be useful.

He first told me to breathe followed by reassurances that it was not the end of the world (shit happens, people are animals, you leave in what '10 minutes'? Do youre best and enjoy your weekend from the crazy place kid). Oh and 'breathe beckett'. I calmed down some, hung up the phone, wrote the closing kids department person a note explaining the mess and ran out of work faster than I have ever.

The whole experience left me depleted. Or more correctly 'beat to shit'. Chaos that is not my own destroys me. I have a small sliver of control in the kids department when there aren't a billion fucking people destroying it. But alas, that was not the case and I will never completely understand people's lack of consideration. I am always (to a fault) so conscious of other people I couldn't imagine not having empathy for someone yet alone create a mess and not take care of it.

And for some reason the more I encounter these situations which remind me that people are assholes, the more my idea that people are amazing diminishes. The more it sort of feeds into my already anxious, black and white, illogical thoughts about myself.

And still having to deal with panic attacks because of shit like this only makes it worse.

So yeah, I am very excited about having the next two days to myself. I won't mind not being around people for a while. I bought a bunch of mason-isque jars the other day because I want to fill them with edible goodies. And it is a way for me to add color to my room using food. Outside of cleaning my very junky room, I will go shopping for almonds, cranberries and granola mainly because I like all of those things and they will look great in glass jars.

I'm such a nerd.

Good Grief March.

2011-03-24T09:57:00.006-04:00

That last two days I have woken up to the sight of snow outside. What the hell march, I thought the saying was in like a 'lion out like a lamb' not 'in like a lion out like the terrain where polar bears roam'. It's kind of bizarre

The last few days have been a little hectic. Angie was suppose to come up this weekend for round two of our Nerd Day in the City Extravaganza. But, I wasn't really feeling the idea of having her in my space for a few days. The last time she came up we generally had a really good time. But she complained about her current situation (suckass job, suckass relationship, suckass everything) the whole weekend. While I am a fan of bitching there comes a certain point where you have to man up or stop talking about how crappy everyhing is. Especially to me.

I am pretty much in the same boat she is. This is why we bonded so easily when she started working at Le Sad Store. Angie is funny and intelligent and a really cool girl to know. I sometimes wish we would have gotten an apartment together instead of her moving back to the Midwest before she eventually setting in DC.

But lately I've come to the realization that our friendships hangs on the similarities of our very desperate situation (a need for a new job + more money). But where Angie is wallowing in anxiety I am actually succeeding in the optimism department. Despite this latest rejection I have a strong felling that I am weeks away from a new job. Somewhere.

I can't explain it. I just feel as if things are finally falling into place. I love living in New York, I love being surrounded by beautiful things to discover (and take pictures of). Sure money is a huge concern for me, sure I will have to find a way to balance a social life with my passionate pursuits to write and enjoy solitude. But I know I can do it.

So sometimes, it can be quite the downer talking to Angie when all she wants to discuss are the pains of life. And she keeps saying things like "I don't know how you do what you do in New York' without a well paying job'. Yeah. Thanks. That makes me feel all sorts of great.

My therapist once said that I have a tendenacy of not being in the moment. That my constant need to prepare for things often means I am not just enjoying 'right now'. It's true. I am always a million steps ahead (mentally) with plans for the future. I spend a lot of time imagining what my life 5 years from now will look like that I am not present to my life now. It often makes me very nostaglic for things I missed out on.

The present is hectic and shaky. Sometimes it sucks hard and more than every I feel like I am the struggling artist I never want to be. But I want to look back on these days with fondness not with a sense that I missed out on my 20's. And I sure as hell don't want to spend the bulk of it complaining about what I don't have.

So I cancelled plans with Angie, because I knew that is what we would have spent the whole week doing. She even said this. We can talk about 'how horrible things are'. No thank you. Instead will have the weekend all to myself. Enjoying some down time and finishing up some projects around the house. I've had to take on more days this week though to compensate for my weekend off, so i've had a lot less me time to sit, write and reflect. My apologies.

But it will be worth it. I haven't had a proper weekend off since college. I am very excited. I wanted to see Jane Eyre this weekend in the city but decided against that because it will cost me more to get to the city than the cost of admission to see the movie. Instead I will stay close to home. While I am not all for spring cleaning, I do want to perk up my room especially since the sun (wherever you are) is about these days. My room is awesome. Hardwood floors, old school, windows with lace curtains and built in shelves to store my hoards of books.

Unfortunately I am bit of a mess. The room is chaotic and in serious need of some TLC. While I can't go all out and decorate as I would like to, I want to buy a few items to welcome in the spring. I'm just in the mood for some sort of subtle newness. Nothing major but something to add to the mix, something that will brighten up the space. Maybe i'll buy a plant.

I've also been cooking up a storm these days especially in the mornings when I have the house to myself. I may be the only human being who loves cooking for one, but so be it. I made a delicious Parmesan noodle dish the other day that still has my stomach growling in happiness. I made it while wearing a new dress and slippers I bought from H&M (thanks K!) and and minutes away from venturing to the kitchen again to cook up something else.

Things are good. Things are better. And when this snow finally melts it'll feel like spring here with all of it's beautiful and subtle newness. I have the urge to come up with spring activities that will get me out of the house and into the fresh air. For once, I am actually looking forward to it.

~Becks.

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah...

2011-03-19T12:38:00.002-04:00

Dear Beckett,

Thank you so much for your patience while we finished up our interview process. You've achieved so much thus far, and your resume is exceptional. It was an extremely hard decision to make, but we ended up going in another direction. We greatly enjoyed meeting with you and truly wish you the best.

Sincerely,

Waxman Literary Agency.

...seriously after all this i'm sort of glad i didn't get it. Get up, brush myself off, the search still continues.