The Beautiful Occupation

Today at work I spent an hour putting numbers on shelves. Why? I don't know.

Melissa(Who I still don't know what she does) is a senior or something, but is like the "Head of Shelvers" She doesn't really do anything but makes about 2 dollars more. She sits at a desk all day, looks at her facebook account, and occasionally you can see her walking up and down the aisle making sure we are doing our job.

Other than being useless to actually shelving books she is also kindof a Bi-atch. Her voice is always in the same bored tone, and I dread having to talk to her. Not out of fear but out deadly boredom every time I am around her.

So today after taking my skittle break, she informs me that I have to label each shelf with a number. She hands me a envelop full of numbers, a scissor and some tape. I accept my new task and head over to start labeling shelves with none other then Sir-Smells-A lot.

He has earned that name because the first time I met him he was sweating so bad I thought it was raining outside. I was looking around to see if anyone else was drenched and then realized that it was a bright sunny day and the puddle of water falling from his brow was indeed sweat. Besides the sweat, he smelled so bad I was about to gag. I can't even explain the smell. It's not like he rolled in garbage it was like he was born from garbage. You can smell him coming a mile away. I can be in an aisle, smell something and know that he is only a few steps behind me. It was that bad.

Since then I must say his smell has lessened, I guess the concept of showers caught on, and my face does not scrunch up every time he is near. But even now just the sight of him reminds me of the smell, and I get a bad vibe. Hence the name Sir-Smells-A lot.

There are just times when you meet a person and you get a bad vibe. Like maybe in a past life this person did something wrong to you. Sir-Smells-A lot could be the nicest guy ever but I just don't like him, despite his smell, there is just something about him that makes me stay away.

So walking towards him, I was thinking "crap, of all people." I was content on ignoring him, but of course we were both numbering the same aisle(he took a shower thank god) which made it kind of difficult to pretend I just didn't see him.

As soon as I approach he says "what's up"
Me: nothing much man

For some reason he thought this was funny, repeating what I had just said. I awkwardly laugh and then start cutting numbers. I happen to be wearing a David Bowie t-shirt, and he says

SSA: You like David Bowie
Me: I like rock, it's mainly what I listen to.

Which is the truth. But...I don't know much about David Bowie's music. I think he is uber cute in that weird way, and has impeccable style, and that he is married to a very gorgeous Iman. But music wise, I like Heroes/I'm Afraid of Americans/Man Who sold the World and a few other one's but not a huge fan. He then went on to ask me all these song related questions that I shrugged and drew a blank on.

Getting the hint he dropped it. I turn on my iPod and begin listening to Enya. Now before you say anything, I know she sucks. But about 4 or 5 songs are a little catchy and they are calming to listen to. But it's nothing I would admit freely to listening to.(Speaking of IPod, my music library is getting a little old. I am in need of new tunes. Of course I haven't a clue of good artists that don't make you want to weep in a corner. Any suggestions of CD's to buy that aren't depressing would be greatly appreciated) Of course Sir-Smells- A lot wants to know what's playing in my IPOD. I shrug/laugh and say that he doesn't want to know.

SSA: I won't judge you, come on.

Of course you won't judge me until you find out it's ENYA. That's like saying I love Rap but I am playing Kenny G right now. A big NO NO. So I lie, say Sufjan Stevens(who he knows) and change the subject quickly.

Though are conversation was very pleasant, and I don't think I embarrassed myself(ENYA, I bow my head in shame) I am still a little hesitant around him.

How I'd love to stopped feeling hesitant, even around boys who smell like a dump truck.

I think I have a lot to offer. I think people are generally curious about the quiet girl who doesn't say much but whose thoughts are always in the cloud. Sometimes I'd like for my feet to be planted firmly on the ground, and be on the same playing field as everyone else.

I'm learning that the more you don't want to be seem, the more people seek you out. I have made my awkwardness so apparent that people either want to learn more about me or get the "she doesn't want to be bothered" vibe, that they stay away. I guess I am trying to find a fine balance between the two. Not doing such a great job.

I still have to finish Madame Bovary, and man I hope she gets her ass kicked. Yesterday in English while I was trying not to be called on(averting teachers eyes), I had to answer a question of what is wrong with Madame Bovary.

The truth is, is that I had the answer on the tip of my tongue, my teacher must have saw that look because the next thing you know I hear

"what do you think Beckett"

Before I could even be nervous or feel the little drop of my stomach every time I was called on I simply said

"there is this conflict with Emma. She reads these books about magical love/passion/ecstasy and wants them to be true. She wants to immulate that. But what she doesn't realize is that they are lies. And it is her living by those lies that inevitably cause her downfall. She is stuck between this place of reality and fantasy and it is the tension between the two that cause her tale to be a cautionary one. That you have differentiate between the two or you will end up like her. "

WTF. Where the hell did that come from. Someone said "WOW" behind me. The teacher looked liked the lightbulb went off in her head and I had said the right thing, and I was even tempted to go on. But stopped myself.

I hate that Emma and I relate to each other. Because I honestly think I was talking about myself there and just applied it to this horrible character.

Reality and Fantasy. Something I am a huge expert on.But learning to differentiate between the two is harder than I expected it to be.

Time to do homework, after a short lunch break. I am starving.

Madame Bovary

For English I am reading Madame Bovary. Ever since I have decided to minor in English I feel a little more...content with with my major(bio) and minor(English) being the direction my undergraduate career will be moving in. It's the first time in a long while where I haven't said "what the hell am I going to do with this major/minor".

My English teacher is really nice. We had to schedule a meeting because I was suppose to write a paper on close reading and had no idea what it was. So I wrote a paper on whatever I wanted to. Though I got a B+ on it, she wanted to talk about my paper and general understanding of structuring a clear paper. I think she believes I have potential, if I could just get my thoughts down clearer.

She kind of talks like those pompous art people though. Like she has a small hint of a British accent though you know she is from upstate New York. It's kind of weird. For the most part the class is pretty interesting. 20 or so English majors(AND ME!) discussing novels I would never have read otherwise.

One of them being Madame Bovary.

At first glance, and skimming, I thought me and Madame Bovary had a lot in common. She daydreams and reads her little books which give her an unrealistic view of the world. TOTALLY ME. But a hundred pages in and the broad is really getting to me. 1) she is a horrible mother, who literally pushes her kid and then later says it is the ugliest thing she has ever seen.

And then she may be a whore, I haven't gotten that far to see if she goes through with it yet. But reading it I feel a small connection to the trifling hussy. Who dreams of better and brighter things, so much that the things around her(even her poor "ugly" kid with the name Berthe) begins to disgust her.

Lately I have been trying to see the good in things I have, which can be hard, when all you want is something else. I'm trying to ignore the little "grass is greener on the otherside" mantra pacing through my head. I'm trying to give things a chance. Which is probably why Madame Bovary, irks me. Because she has become so bitter towards the thing that she has. I mean even if they aren't for her, even if she has an affair and leaves her husband and ditches the kid(which I do not recommend), she doesn't have to be so bitter towards them. Which is probably why I can't continue to read unless I know that she will get what's coming to her, a nice swift kick in the head for being such a pain.

In truth I see the bitterness in myself, which ultimately makes me resistance against liking her character. I am trying to learn to not be bitter about my circumstance. My greatest fear is that when I leave this place I will carry the bitter with me. I will carry the self doubt, self loathing and negativity with me, that begin to push people away. I want to leave it here, or at least get rid of it.

Speaking of bitter:

Tonight is an Amnesty meeting and I have not decided to go yet. Since last year, South African boy is not the president of the club, I think he may have graduated( I miss his face). Amy(Katherine's butt monkey) and Plain Jane are co-presidents because they didn't want there to be an election. Katherine however is the mastermind behind the two. Though she said last year "I have kids I can't be the president of any club" she has positioned her friends in situations which lead her to inevitably run the show.

About 2 weeks ago I decided to go to a meeting. I didn't want to them to think I was not showing up because me and Katherine had a fallen out. Though we were cool during the summer, things have since changed. I don't call her, she doesn't call me, and I never see her around campus.Fine by me. Nevertheless I still felt I should at least show up to one meeting, so they know that I can do things by myself. And so I could snare at Katherine from my seat.

I was nervous as hell. I could only imagine what she had said to them. And though I was steps from the door, I contemplated turning around. But I had come this far and I was determined to do it, and never come back.

Surprisingly Jane/Amy were uber excited to see me. Katherine ignored me. In my mind I was like "no that bitch didn't" but then I was like "who cares" plus she gained a whole bunch of weight which made coming all worth it. Childish. Maybe? But she deserves it. She flaunted herself around like she was...Queen Elizabeth. She was mean, and not a good friend, and is downright rude.

I went away that night smiling because I had conquered my fear. But then followed my elation by calling her cottage cheese arms while talking on the phone to my mother. I also said she could have fed a third world country with her cottage cheese arms, and I felt really bad about it afterward. I'm going to burn I know.

Even though i said i would go to one meeting and be done with it...things have changed.

There is a boy(of course there is) who goes to the Amnesty meetings. Now, I do not/maybe have a crush on this boy who has a girlfriend. But he may be friend potential

For some reason on Itunes I get his music library. Maybe because of the connection on the hall but there are about 4 people's music library i get, one being the mysterious PARTY HARDY. I didn't even know whose music I was listening to, but I was hooked. He had Sufjan/Ben Folds/Coldplay. You name it he has it. So of course I was curious to know whose music I had spent countless hours listening to.

Putting my detective skills to use, I managed to pinpoint the music library to "______"( He doesn't have a nickname yet) Maybe I'll call him Music Boy. Coincidently he is also in my realism class(go figure). And at the meeting I went to guess who comes strolling in, and sits down right next to me. And we live on the same Hall. WTF. If this doesn't spell "Beckett if you don't befriend this boy than you are an idiot" I don't know what does.

So I may be attending more meetings, despite having to glare at Cottage Cheese all night. If this wasn't the night before a math test I don't want to fail I would definitely go. And I swear it isn't a cop out. I'm just putting passing a test in front of trying to make a friend. But next week I'm there. Definitely. And i may even wear a skirt. Yes i know he has a girlfriend(who apparently is still in highschool, kinda creepy), but i'm just trying to be friends. Or something that resembles it. I am no homewrecker.

Time to go study for above mentioned math exam. Trying not to fail. And I have to finish reading Madame Bovary. I hope I don't throw her out the window.

Casimir Pulaski Day

As I had mentioned I have a new main squeeze, who is actually an old main crush, but who has recently pushed all other contenders to the side and probably for a while. I am a taken girl, wooed by his melodic voice, blank stare, and a slight muscles (I've seen him play and I see the muscles in his arm, oh yeah!!!)

Anyway, I bring this to light because he has invaded my dreams as of late,which make it very hard to concentrate throughout the day, especially at work where my daydreams are more vivid then ever.

It's very difficult when the only boys who come knocking on my door are on probation or too creepy for words. In thinking about my whole boy situation I think I could easily have a boyfriend if I was just willing to date any creepy guy who asked me out. But there is something that I hold on to. There is something that makes me runaway from those creep balls and wait patiently for whoever it is to come my way.

That isn't always easy though, especially when everyone around me seems to be attached at the hip to someone else. My roommates boyfriend practically lives here,Marie and her boyfriend are still dating and more annoying then ever, because I think sex is involved now, and the seasons always bring out hand holding couples who annoy you with their happiness.

Another reason I think therapy may be beneficial is because I realize that the opposite sex make me extremely nervous. Even if a guy is being nice and friendly or super flirty like hot French poster seller dude, I put up these defensive blockers. You'd think I had been sexually assaulted when I was younger I mistrust men so much. Boys that could potentially pose some sort of threat to me I admittedly dislike and avoid. But I am beginning to think it is not the threat they would pose to me, but the vulnerability that would come out if I ever got close.

I think that is why it is so much easier to fall for someone you don't really know. Art boy, Coffee shop Boy( a new kid who works at the coffee shop, uber cute), and of course musicians/actors...yadda yadda yadda.

In your mind they are everything you want them to be. They are everything you wish they could bring out of you. Serenity, a piece of mind, LOVE.

I have yet to let myself be vulnerable, I have yet to let my guards down, I have yet to allow anyone in, and I think that shows. I think people can read that, it is a drawback to making the connections that I want. You kind of have to let people know you need them, and that want to be needed or ended up always striving for unrealistic wants from dudes with names like Sufjan.

Regardless of this knowledge, I still have a mad crush on him. Despite his connections with religion his music puts me at ease, and has helped in the writing process. My dreams about him aren't sexual, which make the attraction for him even stronger. Even if he is a big weirdo.

For now, or at least until I learn how to overcome my apprehension with men,i will stay in my dreams. Especially because I am being stalked by a kid me and Mike call Waldo. We met him during our freshman year while we were attempting to study for bio. He was sitting in the same area as us and kind of butted into our conversation. Ever since then we have literally been hiding from Waldo who brings up conversations about things that do not concern us.

Unfortunately living on campus makes it a little harder for me to avoid Waldo then for Mike. Every time I go to the book store he is there waiting for me. Don't get me wrong I am as polite as can be, but in the back of my mind I am screaming for him to get away from me.

About 2 weeks ago he got really brave and asked me out on a date. OH YEAH. He wanted to know if we could go some where sometime and hand out. Before I could even come up with the "I have a boyfriend" lie, I was like "sure why not".IDIOT. When faced with questions I just can't seem to lie fast enough. He wanted to meet off campus, I wasn't feeling that, so I suggested we meet in the bookstore. He wanted to meet on Saturday. So a date was set up.

Of course I don't think he was aware that I had no intention of showing up. Trust me I felt bad about it. I've never even been on a real date and here I was ditching my potential first one. But I had no intentions to be felt up by some creepy dude whose name I still don't know.

Saturday came and went, and it totally slipped my mind. Then on Monday as I was buying my daily dose of candy guess who can strolling by. WALDO. My heart dropped. He asked about what I did on Saturday saying "Didn't you remember Saturday". So what did I do?... Played stupid. I put on my blankest face and was like "Saturday? Was I suppose to be doing something?"

Luckily I managed to dodge a bullet and he was like "yeah I didn't do anything either." that still didn't stop him from giving me his phone number and telling me to call him. HELL NO.

Right now and for the rest of my life I know that I am not looking for crazy. I'm not looking for Drama, and not even head over heels fairy tale love....But I am looking for peace and comfort, and solace from whoever wins me over.

All things that I am uncomfortable at achieving ironically. That's probably why i look for it so strongley in anyone i would consider dating.

Time to study, no more time for daydreams. I am ultra excited that SCI-Fi(which i usually don't watch but thy have been bringing back some good shows) is bringing back Tales From The Darkside tomorrow. Something to look forward to.

And i think i have decided on therapy. It could hep me learn things about myself, and maybe close some of these issues once and for all.

To go or not to go...

...That is my question.

Though things have been going okay lately, meaning no crying fits of hysteria down the street, i have contemplated going to...THERAPY.

A couple of weeks ago as i was getting another Peanut Butter cookie(the things are just too damn good), i happened upon the Health Center, whose inviting and looming structure called to me. Mid chew i thought about the prospect of going to therapy, i mean it can't hurt to talk about your "problems" with a willing participant at the other end.

But because i am a complete scardy cat, i have yet to make up my mind. I called the place(big wuss i know) and skirted around the prospect of therapy with the lady on the phone who assured me that i could talk about whatever i wanted to talk about

Me: Even anxiety related problems
Lady: If that is what you want to talk about...you can make an appointment over the phone
Me: i haven't decided to go or not, i just wanted to know that if i did want to go... i can...you know...go to therapy.

I have been making up all these excuses in my head why i shouldn't go "I'd have to pay"(first 12 sessions are free), "I don't have the time" (free on WF after 1:30) "I don't need to go everything is alright" (liar). By tuesday i will have made up my decision. Before i venture onto bigger and larger things i like to hope i wouldn't have this looming problem in the background. I'd like to know that i can make it on my own, open up, invite people in, and generally feel okay.

We'll see what happens.

I still find it very difficult to let people in, to let my guard down. Sometimes i feel like i am the guard and the queen of my very own fortress. And internally they are fighting for supremacy. I am fighting to keep the things i hold dear(and fear) kept locked inside. But i am beginnig to want to throw down my hair and let those i want to climb up and see whats inside. It can get lonely holding down the fort all day and night.

I have the most anxiety everyone. I fear girls won't like me, and boys won't take interest in me. Which could all be very illogical but are what i believe. So i keep them all at bay, even when i desperately need for them to be close.

Speaking of close, Short boy at my job HUGGED me the other day. EWWW. Though my job is very tedious, shelving books, i make the most of my 4 hours working by listening to my iPod and dancing when no one is around. I like the dancing part the best, i've developed mad skills.

Occassionally i will help a person find a book, or eat skittles behind a shelf so no one can see me. The usual. The people i work with are okay. One girl is a total Bi-atch who sits at a desk all day looking at her facebook account, though she makes about 2 dollars more than everyone else.

And then there is the short dude. He gets the nickname because he is short, almost as short as me, which i have explained is a no-no. He is nice though, and for the most part an OK person to talk too, though he has a huge obsession with Flavor of Love and must talk about it every monday.

I have an uncanny ability to notice when someone is staring at me. I am so aware of the people around me, i can never be taken off guard. So occassionaly as i saunter into the office, i will glance back to see him staring. And staring very hard. He comments on how i look all the time and makes an effort to work near me while shelving books, which is very uncomfortable when two people are trying to shelve a book in the same suffocating and tight row.

He hasn't crossed the line of creepy yet, though his hug the other day made me almost run for the hills. He, being short, commented on how very cute my height was and that it made me so...CUTE. He then proceeded to hug me across the shoulders, as i prayed for dear life that my hand didn't accidently smack him. It lasted all about 10 seconds but by then i knew..."another guy i don't want to have a crush on me" . Great.

I think there is a reason i attract these creepy boys, and if i attend therapy maybe he/she can explain why. Cause i can't.

Maybe less dancing in library will help. I was literally dancing and this dude was staring at me, so i abruptly stopped while he continued to molest me with his eyes. I could only think "this show is not for free" and walked away with my head down low.

Halloween is coming up. What will i be this year? I have to attend stupid halloween party at job and have yet to decided what i will be.

Time to do Chemistry homework, girls gotta pass this class.

28 Days Later....

....I have been waiting to use that title for too long.

So how are things?

I'm doing good.

A little leaner. Still terrible at math. No longer crushing on a certain you know who from the you know what club.

....I'm so happy to be back. More than I can express in words. I'd first like to apologize for leaving so abruptly without explaining. If you couldn't tell by my last entries I was not in the best of spirits. Maybe it was the beginning of the semester. Maybe my anxiety was at higher level than I liked to admit, perhaps it was my increasing self doubt and spell of bad days, but I simply felt...LOST.

So I decided to take a 28 hiatus, not particularly from this blog, but from my routine. There are just those moments in life, when you wish you could be someone else. You have this idea that if you could change the things about yourself that you hate, all will be great with in your life. I was simply sick of being the sad girl, I am simply sick of being the girl with increasing self doubt, with bouts of insecurity, or teary days and grey skies.

So I decided to give myself 28 days(based on my favorite movie) to see what I could accomplish, to figure out the small things, to stop feeling so bad about who I am. To stop feeling like I'm too inadequate to have friends, or a boyfriend, or a piece of mind. And in 28 days I hoped to have some greater sense of myself, I hoped that I would have "it" figured out. "It" being if going on like I had been going would be the course of my life. If I would forever give in to being the sad girl...

BUT

...In about 3 days I figured that I liked who I was, have to work on my anxiety problems, and that life is full of ups and downs but that it's worth living regardless of the shitty moments....

I know you were probably expecting something more dramatic:

That I literally ran away for 28 days and found out the secrets of my life 500 miles away in a new town/city.

Maybe I had bitten off more than I could chew and totally had a nervous breakdown, my own little Girl Interrupted episode.

Maybe I had met a boy and was spending all of my time with him curled up in blankets and kisses.

The last one would have been nice.

Unfortunately, but with much more simplicity, I simply took time to get to know myself. Away from everything.

During the beginning of my 28 days later scenario I discovered, not really discovered but embraced, that I have anxiety problems. My psych teacher calls them anxiety disorders, but I hate that word, I'd rather have anxiety problems than anxiety disorder. When it developed, that could take a while to pinpoint, but I do know that for the last several years it has been ruling my life. It has been the cloud over my head, the rock I hide under, the figure that holds me back. It is something I wish not to live with anymore, or something I hope I can learn to cope with. But I don't want to be it's victim, I don't need it to hold my hand and lead my down a path I cannot find my way back from.

The last 28 days I have:

Watch an endless amount of "Are you Afraid of the Dark"

Danced in the library

Eaten way to many Peanut Butter Cookies

Went to several club meetings

Ditched Amnesty International.

Been stalked by weird dude who works in bookstore/eating area/movie theater building on campus

Worked out a total of three times(bad I know).

Talked to someone in my class.

I think I flirted.

Made up a nickname for all of my co-workers

Slept in class

Kicked my lab partner in the leg

Dumped Gavin Degraw for Sufjan Stevens.

Made up a dance for the following items and occasions: Cheez-its. Doritos. Peanut Butter Cookie. Passing Bio Test. Pending concerts. and occasional nothing dances. All simply involve small rump shaking and cabbage patch arm movements.

Slept through a fire alarm.

These 28 days have been liberating in a sense that I have allowed myself to be okay with who I am. So I still don't have any friends, and I don't even have a crush worthy guy to drool over anymore(unless you are counting Sufjan Stevens who I will be talking about in the next entry. FREAKY dream stuff, I feel like a dirty whore.), but I am learning to accept myself. I am learning to love the things that I have, because I know I have so much to give, that there is an endless amount of possibilities that I possess, which all lay before me.

So:

My hair may never fall in the right place

I will never manage to pull off wearing a skirt without looking uncomfortable

I will always have one foot firmly planted in my dreams

I may always be a little shy-

-and insecure-

-and perhaps a little sad-

I may always find small comfort in being a homebody...

Who fancies eating cereal in bed while watching old school nick

My musical taste may be a tad bit sad and folkish, but never EMO.

I will always have bad posture

and love wearing jeans and a T

BUT:

I am content with all of that. And am learning that my self worth is dependent on how I view myself and not how others view or treat me. I have learned that I am who I am. And that no matter how many tears I shed over the complexity that is living, no matter how slighted I feel about my circumstance, I have every single day of my life to improve on it. To work with it, to learn to cope. To laugh, to cry, to feel, to be, to live. And that makes the shitty stuff easier to deal with.

I refuse to be that girl anymore while maintaining the things that make me...ME. And it will take a lot of work to get to a place where I am truly happy. And not the sad, lonely, bitter...I could go on but for the sake of everything I won't .

28 days later, and I feel like I am on a journey. Not to a new destination. But back home to me. I don't expect it to be easy, I am counting on more tears, to feel insignificant and small somedays. But there is a slight difference, I am learning how to deal with it. I am learning to not let it consume me, I am sick of it consuming me. I am sick of it being my rock, which I lean securely on.

28 days later, and I feel a little free.

Once again sorry about the 28 days hiatus, I should have told you before hand but I didn't know till after I wrote the post that I would go on the hiatus and I couldn't write a new post because that would totally go against it(not counting the post-scripts I just didn't want anyone to think I died).

I hope I have not made anyone too mad, you guys are a huge part of the girl I am learning to accept( I can't say woman yet, that's too adulty), and I thank you all from the bottom of my heart

Back to regular postings, I swear. There will not be anymore long periods of no posting, it sucked not writing down things about work(creepy short dude and Sir-smells-a-lot), school(Mike,math,Katherine) and generally reading your blogs. The last part I missed the most. I am ready to fall back into where I fit snuggly in. And I also am looking forward to ranting and raving, but you know..

So how have you been?

I have some catching up to do, it may take me a while(probably tonight).

Today I received my first paycheck from new job and I now have to splurge on 2 Sufi(my husband pictured above, isn't he...LOVELY) CD's, a poster and a T-shirt.

What is a girl to do with all this part-time job money she is rolling in.

Until tomorrow.

Beckett A. Hughes.

Get Me Gone

I need a vacation. Not a summer vacation where I lounge around and get use to doing nothing except watch TV and munch on cereal.

I simply need a break away from my life, from everything right now.

My head/emotions/moods have been running at an all time high lately, which means I feel like I am in a rut. No particular rut, just a whole mess of one, which I have yet to get myself out of. Even the small triumphs(chit chat with a very hot French man while I was buying a poster. He was uber nice and is sure to become the object of my dreams for the next few weeks) of my week have been crushed by the setbacks of my increasing self doubt.

It's almost suffocating how bad I feel somedays. I think Dido said it best " I'm so lonely I don't even want to be with myself anymore" . They come quickly(sadness) and for no unseen reason, but I know there must be a trigger to the depression somewhere, and then I just want to disappear. Like that crazy Buffy episode where the girl was ignored in school so much that she actually became invisible. One of my early Buffy favs.

Running away is a very familiar theme in my life. I may or may not have mentioned that I use to run away when I was younger. My cousin and brother would be in the house, and the moment they did something to upset I would pack my Beauty and the Beast sleeping bag(which I still have) throw food, toys and a book into it, and protest that I was going away forever. Forever of course was 5 minutes, after standing in the abandoned lot around the corner realizing no one was coming for me.

I felt completely invisible wherever I roamed, being bumped into, being unrecognized on the street by peers...What a dreadful feeling that is.But even more dreaduful that i need those things to feel okay. It's that little voice in the back of my head that wonders if I were to disappear would anyone even care. And I realized the answer to that is No. A big invisible no. I have never felt so lonely in my whole entire life.

I need a vacation, a long extended one that differs greatly from the life I lead now. I need to get away and figure out where I am heading. Weird...I feel like I need to get lost to be found. At this point I don't care what path I stumble on or where it leads, as long as when(if) I return I will have a greater sense of myself. Of my significance. Sometimes you just need to be reminded of it.

Who knows.

I've been meaning to put this list up for a while, but procrastination caught up with me in more ways than one.

Life Simple Pleasures

1. Watching my cats sleep at the foot of my bed and crawling beside them to rest my head near them.
2. Experiencing deja vu.
3. Pineapple Italian ices! The ones in the small cup where you eat it with the wooden scoop that comes when you buy it . Priceless.
4. Blackouts(due to storms), the house lit up with candles, my mom and I curled up on the couch reading a book(preferably rain line), listening to old CD's.
5. Listening to an old song and remembering the sentiment behind it after all those years.
6. The moments when life literally seems to good to be true. Where you take a step back and look fondly on the moment, knowing that they are infrequent, but cherishing that you at least got to experience it.
7. Walking in a new pair of converse , and breaking them in, so in a few months time they will have that old scratched up look to them.
8. Finding something new in something old. Like that house you have never seen before though you have driven down that street a million times. Or that new favorite song on the CD that hasn't been played for a while.
9. Finding that thing that makes you laugh and then having to repeat it over and over again, or in my case making someone(usually my brother, he does amazing impersonations) repeat it over and over again.
10.Being old enough to be nostalgic but young enough to be surprised by new things.

~Beckett Amelia Hughes~

*Postscript*: Not dead i swear just trying to fall back into place. Will be back to regular postings soon.

*Post-Postscript(is that how it goes)*- Will be back FRIDAY. I'm so excited, i've missed writing on this thing more than anyone will ever know. These 4 weeks have been the longest week of my life and i have so much to say. I've missed you all. See you on Friday. For real.

First Day...

So today I started my job...YEAH-ISH.

I've worked in a library before and was expecting to have your usual array of (to put bluntly) freaks and geeks. I feel I can make this accurate assessment because well I worked in the library but was rather the shy girl, then the freaky geeky girl who talked about the lifespan of butterflies and my obsession with Dungeon and Dragons.

Of course I have no problems with the "freaky" kind, as my mom says I attract them like the plague. It's the truth. Something about my appearance reads to other people that I will understand and save them from their sorrows. It's a curse and a positive attribute of mine, a pleasant face and a gentle smile. What can I say.

The day started off at a very rough 6:30, I finally got out of the room at 7:30 and spent the next hour or so daydreaming in Bio. Then I ran to the coffee shop, grabbed a coffee regular, extra sugar, little cream and sat in the bookstore. I had so many packets(because I need them) that a small pile accumulated to the glareful eye of the stranger sitting next to me.

After downing the coffee, I headed to the library, where I ran into the guy I had met on Friday. He was nice, I had noticed him around campus a lot, but CLEARLY knew that he is not my type(he is almost my height, and I am short. A BIG NO NO). But fate does not care what my type is, I usually attract the guys I would NEVER EVER date. EVER.

To even get into the door of potential dater(phenotypically, because the world is very vain):
-Dark hair
-considerably taller than me.
-generally more extroverted than me
-Amazing eyes.
-Gideon Yago like features, but if you are Gideon Yago than you have filled the position I am looking for. I am set for life.

But these are just the small things.

Which of course meant that during the whole orientation I had the prying eyes of "library guy" on me. Though I share a shift with another guy, he locked creepy eyes with me the whole time, barely noticing the kid standing right next to me. I now know what the phrase "undressing me with his eyes" mean. Boys, have no shame.

We pretty much had a run through of the library process. SHELVING BOOKS. Which everyone knows is a very boring job, but the price at the end of my rainbow is money, which I desperately need, and want. So I can deal with it. The numbers start blaring together, and without my iPod I think I may have gone crazy on those books, but it is only a temp, probably to the end of the semester, if not less than that, so I don't mind nor care.

I think the struggle will be not dealing with people. I never realized how much I liked working with people until I was trapped in a library all day, shelving books. I like seeing hot faces, and having small chat. I do that best of all, and then I get all awkward and quiet.

The library crowd are very scary people. The true definition of anti-social. Though I love my quiet time, there are other times when I need to be around other people to feel...Alive. People are interesting and dynamic and lovely. Yes even lovely, as they appear in my dreams. But the library people huddle in their little crowd of being weird. The trapped themselves in the conference room, and have lunch. They talk about how the place outside those walls are unfit for them. They hide away.

Sounds a little familiar, I think. Sounds hella familiar. As soon as my shift ended(at an agonizing 1:30), I jetted up the stairs, ran outside and breathed in air,let the sun hit my face, and smiled at the first face I saw.

Maybe working at the library has given me more incentive to be apart of the world, because like Winona Ryder at the end of a very emotional Girl Interrupted " Maybe everyone out there is a liar. And maybe the whole world is stupid, and ignorant. But I'd rather be in it. Id' rather be fucking in it, than down here with you" and that is my sentiment this year. I'd rather be in the world, than hiding.

And I learned all this from being with freaky library people. WHO KNEW.

I do have to create an imaginary boyfriend though. Because I hate rejecting people and have dealt with problems in the past where saying "I am just not interested" has not worked in my favor, I use the more complex a fun "I have a boyfriend" line. The problem is, is that I never use at the right time, I never squeeze it into conversations and just go blank. But because I fear I will be dealing with a bunch of "never had a girlfriend" boys, I need the dreaded "boyfriend" line to keep them at bay.

So I figure if I at least mention I have a boyfriend in at least one conversation with someone, then the boys will know "hey i'm off limits", go bother someone else. I might have to use my friendship with Mike, and ask him for a small favor and be the face to my boyfriend name if I need one. Which shouldn't be the case, but you never know. Cause if you think about it if I say "hey yeah I have a boyfriend who lives in Chicago" they are going to be like "yeah, right". So pretend boyfriend on campus will be a little more plausible.

And a little more fun to say then "no I just don't want to see anyone right now, unless you are a certain boy who leads an Art Club and is a hockey player." What? I had to say it.

I'm going to an outdoor concert in less than two hours, right now I need to be near faces, even unfamiliar ones, I will bring a book just in case I get nervous and want to hide. It should be okay, I'll tell you how it goes.

The Secret Life of Daydreams

OH...how i am going to love the weekends this semester.

Friday wasn't as mind boggling as Thursday and i was pleasantly surprised by how much i liked my Ecology class, it may be the only relief from tuesdays and thursdays. Sitting down this weekend and trying to finish homework( already dished out by my professors), i see that the only class i may have trouble with is math. Calculus to me isn't really a math ,it's a confusing array of graphs, numbers and words like TANGENT. I have until Wednesday to see if i will drop the class or not, but dealing with the evil packet he assigned for us to do, dropping may be the best option.

Walking around has proved more lonely than i have expected, you'd think i would be use to it by now, but i guess you never get use to being the only unfamilar face in the crowd, as others sit ot talk to someone they have recognized from last semester, Freshman are a whole other breed so they do not count. At least not in my mind. I have perfected the art of appearing like it doesn't matter. I walk like i know where i am going, like i have a destination, and there will be gold on the other side where i am walking too. When in reality it is just a front for feeling out of place.

Because it is only has been two days of classes, and clubs haven't started yet, i don't feel bad because nothing has happened yet. People are just readjusting and getting use to campus for the first time, and i guess when things get back to normal, i will figure out how to place myself in the mass of people who have already found their niche.

I think what affects me the most is that i want so badly for things to be okay for me. I hate for my mom to always worry that i am not adjusting as well as she knows i can. Oddly enough with my library interview the lady remarked that i seemed to adjust well in the working situation. It would later become the theme of everythihg i said later on in the interview( i decided to roll with whatever she said). When honestly in my personal life i do not adjust to well, for a sign that is known for it's adaptablility, i have yet to apply that to my everyday life. In most cases, i just feel awkward, out of place, and distant.

And though i love the aspect of living in my daydreams and fantasies, and the me time i need in my life. There are becoming more and more moments when i want human connections. When i just want a friend, or someone to go to the movies with, and have lunch with, instead of retreating back to the comforts of my dreams.

Time to read Pamela . I thought i would totally dislike this book, but it is kind of interesting. I think i am also going to like English this semester, minus struggling to read Anna Karenina. Why the hell we are reading that dictionary of a novel, i have no idea. Even though we don't start reading that until November, i figure i minus well get a start on it early, because there is no way i can finish that in a months time. My attention span will not allow it.

All Will be Well

No one said the course load would be this rough!

First day of class, and I am wiped out. From boring psych to confusing math; to more English/realism lit to the evilness of chem, I feel like I was just hit by a bus, landed in a ditch and am trying to crawl my way out.

Oh I knew it was going to be bad. Chem, Math, and a Bio in one semester. But I wasn't expecting 5 huge English novels, a math teacher who speeds through lectures, and a chem professor who isn't the one I signed up for.

Bonkers.

By the end of the day I was on the phone with my mother saying I was throwing in the towel. Of course I wasn't being literal I simply just wanted the little push of support to soothe the looming academic crisis that always arises when I feel like my brain cannot possible comprehend all that in one semester.

The truth is is that I know I am a smart cookie. I've gotten this far on potential alone, so there must be something in me that makes it possible to succeed. But I often have that fear that maybe my want to succeed cannot match up to my ability to. Maybe some people are meant to be good at one thing, and others...well always kind of struggle.

Oh I how I wished I got math and bio as easily as I got other things, or that I was certain med school was the path I was meant to walk . But sitting in the stuffy chairs with a room full of hopefuls in science/math classes I have the discerning ache in my stomach, a need to run from the room, and never return.

I wish I was one of those artsy people, whose talent made it easy for them to do something they really love. They casually sit around campus, with bikes feet away from them, smoking a cigarette and discussing music, art, and the next portfolio that is due. They dress ultra trendy swearing they got that ultra tight denim from a drift store, but I am certain I have seen it in the store window at the mall. They try to pretend they aren't pompous, but secretly know they are.They don't have it all figured out, but even that seems cool. I on the other hand suffer from a my wishy washiness and continue to return to a place of rut, wondering what the hell I am going to do with myself.

Perhaps tomorrow I won't feel so...Dreadful. Okay I don't actually feel dreadful I feel contemplative which may be the energy I need before I start studying for chemistry, and math for that matter of fact.

No one said this would be easy, I guess it would be much easier to want everything handed to you on a silver platter. I have no choice but to work extremely hard in what I do, because I do have the potential, at least I believe I do.

I don't know what's worse in my case, the fear of never pushing myself to the fullest and seeing what I could accomplish, or developing a realization that this is all I can give, and maybe my better best isn't as strong as I wish it could be.

Let the River Run

Today was my interview for the library job. I wish I could say that I had practice some great interviewing material, I wish I could say that I had worn the skirt my mom begged me to wear, I could also say that I felt confident I would get the job hook, line, and sinker.

But I went to bed extremely late watching who knows what, I wore jeans and a cardigan, and I didn't once prepare for an interview.

Needless to say as I approached the office of the lady who was to interview me I was pretty nervous. This was the only job I wanted, I couldn't see myself working anywhere else, and I desperately needed the money, and the experience for references. But there still was the huge possibility that I wouldn't get the job, and I prepared myself for that....

I got the job though, but I couldn't have just come out and written it. What would be the fun in that. It was bizarre, they were shooting me questions right and left, and I was articulate and funny, and real. By the end of it, she had offered me the position( not that much pay, but I get to pick my own hours and all I have to do is shelve books), and said I was a very pleasant person to interview.

Who the hell was that girl in the interview room today? Surely it wasn't me. Scared old me, with no sense of how to talk to people. But I did pretty well, they asked the dreaded "So tell me about yourself", and I rambled for a good 5 minutes. They asked me about my past experience with old job, and I was truthful about it, it sucked but I did what I could. They asked me if I preferred working in groups or alone...This one was pretty tricky, but I told her that I understood the importance of groups and the strength that they provide, and I was able to adapt in group situations, but I preferred working alone. I know how I work, and am pretty strong in my finishing tasks alone.

She bought that, and I am now a working girl...Well in the nonprostitution way...I am a girl with a JOB. YEAH!!!

If this is any indication of the year, than bring it on, I'm ready for it...I was literally on cloud nice walking out of the building.

But I must be the only person who is hesitant about happiness. I don't know if it is a defense mechanism but I never am completely am comfortable with the good events in my life. I am deeply affected by my past experiences, so much that it makes those small victories hard to take. But it did feel good today, just to feel...Excited. I haven't had that feeling for a long time.

I hope this continues, maybe not blissful happiness, but the type of contentment that will make being here and not somewhere else (Philadelphia) a lot easier.

I just hope my year doesn't turn into some soap opera novela though, "where I am forced to choose between the quiet and mysterious poet from exotic lands, or the dashing lothario whose unpredictable passion for her(me) is fiery yet dangerous. Who will I choose, will either find out about each other, stay tuned next week for "As the Campus Turns", where their drama is as complicated as waking up for an 8am class."

Anyway, Thursday is approaching pretty quickly, very nervous about that. I am kind of ready to get back to Art boys club, I think seeing a familiar and comforting(b/c of his extreme loveliness)face will make being here a little more real. Heart tucked safely in chest, I am not wearing it or my "affection" for him on my sleeve. Unless there is real conversation, feedback, or plain connections, he will just be a face I admire. A hot specimen of a face that I admire.

I'm leaving my options open for this year, I expect nothing concrete but am willing to be open to the things that come my way, as long as it is doesn't involve settling for happiness. I think that is too important to settle for anymore.

Return of the Hot Librarian

...More to come after work out break and trip to mailbox.

Falling into Place.

Moving day was yesterday.

My mother and I headed out early yesterday, with a buttload of things I had accumulated during the summer, and drove back to my school. Even though she will have done the "drop your child off to college" thing for a record 5 times( 5 semesters including Philadelphia University ) she never stops getting completely sad when she has to drop me off.

The whole way to campus she was getting way nostalgic about our time together. I'm use to this though, and secretly I wished to get nostalgic with her too. There is always that feeling before going back to school where I wish I could stay at home with her too. That it was like highschool, junior high, and elementary where I could return home to her after a day at school. Something about the safety of being home I guess.

Because my brother is...Well unreliable, we had to do without him and lug all the heavy things by ourselves. It actually went faster than we expected and I was in my dorm with all my things in less than 2 hours. One of my roommates greeted us as we unpacked. She seems nice, but appearances can be deceiving, and my mom was pleased that she wasn't some rude nutbag we have encountered before.

My room is of course smaller than last years, and summer session, but it has a charm to it that makes up for it, plus I have a killer view, and we all know it's about the view in the end.

Being back is very bittersweet. I am on the right track to getting caught up with my classes, but at the same time I notice how everyone else has seemed to fall right back into the routine of their lives, friends, hangouts, while I am just left...Alone. A reflection of my time spent here.

The halls are alive with friends happy to see each other, talking about the gossip of past weeks, and what classes and teachers they are trying to avoid. After my mom left, I was pretty much on my own. There were no catching up moments with friends, there were no recognizable faces to wave at, or people to escape with. It was just me in the comfort zone I think I am beginning to out grow.

Realizing that I want so much more than what I have now, makes me more determined, yet scared, to make things better. I wish I knew how to though.

Classes start Thursday and I am taking...Ecology, Calculus, Chem, Engl, and a psych class. Doesn't sound fun but what can I say, I have no other choice but to make it work, study my ass off, and pass.

Today I started working out again, with the whole moving situation and dealing with my brother, I didn't do anything during July, unless you count eating strawberry cheescake as exercise.

Physically 20 has been beneficial on the bod, there's a healthy glow to my face, and I slimed down considerably during the month of June. But today's workout killed me, 20 minutes here and there felt like death to my legs, and I was ready to go after minute 5, but I stayed(mainly caused I had walked in the heat and there is air conditioning in the gym).

Hopefully the positive injections into my life will be beneficial in the long run. Working out, figuring out this whole social thing, and not feeling so miserable all the time. I'm not making any expectations of what the semester holds for me, but I do hope it is something grand.

Time to sleep, horrible storm knocked out TV last night and I missed Flavor of Love 2. Damn.

Headlock.

I'd seriously like to put the world in a headlock today.

As a child I hated that I wasn't allowed to wrestle with my cousins and brother in front of adults. It wasn't "proper"(whatever that means) for a girl to roll around on the ground and put someone in a headlock.

Because I wasn't allowed to fight, in front of adults, I would use that to my advantage. Up until the age of eight I would wait until my mother was walking way ahead of us, I would punch my brother in the arm and then yell out as if he had hit me. My mother would turn around to see me lying on the floor holding my arm and screaming "MORGAN HIT ME!!!" she would tell my brother he knew better, come pick me up and dust off my "wound" as I smirked back at him.

Oh I wasn't proud of this, well I am not proud of this now,but at the time I thought I was getting away with gold at this ability. That was until the day my mother turned back mid "grand dramatic fall to the ground" and I was never able to get away with it again.

Today has been an entirely frustrating day, which is why the whole wide world deserves a headlock, or a least a good punch in the arm.

Contenders for the headlock:

-Lady who made it painfully obvious that I am shy and introverted and she was glad her daughter was not shy.

-Pothead brother who totally may have taken my keys because I am careless and left them on the table(he doesn't have a key to the place for a reason)

-People from highschool.

-Pothead brother who caused another scratch on shitty car.

-nosy neighbor next door who barely lets you walk up the stairs before coming out of her house and trying to sneak a peek into our place

-Pothead brother.

-My nervousness about the school.

-Katherine

-Mike

-Chemistry, Biology, and Math

-Pothead brother because he isn't the older brother you can depend on.

-And me, because I left the key on the table, because I am nervous about school, because I dislike pothead brother, and because I am painfully aware that I am shy and have no idea how to overcome it.

Damn this day, I'm going to lie down and pretend it never existed, and wish to the heavens that Nickelodeon wants to play some old Nick shows for me.

Rainy Day.

Yesterday for about 30 minutes it poured outside. As if the sky had said "I am sick of all this heat too.", and wanted as much relief as the rest of us. While everyone else ran inside from the rain, it was the perfect opportunity for my mother and I to run outside, and jump in puddles. And as quickly as it had come, it was gone. The sky got blue, people begin to come outside and we retreated. The story of our lives.

With relationships questions looming all around me(what to do with Mike who is in one of my classes, What to do with Katherine, who almost certainly will pop up again and what to do with my nonexistent friends/boyfriend situation), I have spent my last week at home covered in blankets holding on tightly to a pillow. Why? Because it is comfortable, and most days I would rather be in a bed anyway.

Everywhere around me the people in my life are evaluating their relationships. My brother and his girlfriend, Marie and her boyfriend, My mom and James(who she called on Monday). I feel like I'm in whirlpool of "connections" and everyone has managed to swim their way out to safety because they were open to receiving help. I on the other hand am drowning in my inability to make connections and sustain them. I am fearful of getting close to people, and having them see me as vulnerable, because in my mind vunerabilty is cast out to sea and left to suffer...Alone.

After getting off the phone with James, my mom had that "love" look on her face. She smiled and acted like a teenager, and then admitted that every time she talks to him are the only times she feels like this move was a mistake. To her, he is home. And she wants nothing more than to return. She asked me if that was how I felt, if she was the only one who felt like that. Than even though it has been some years since we've moved, his face never escapes her heart.

And I couldn't say anything. I felt it, I've felt it. I knew actually what she was talking about. She had extended her hand for me to open up, and I froze, stuffed a animal cracker in my mouth, and did awkward "love...Maybe..I don't know." she seemed content with that answer, and said "well maybe one day you'll be able to tell me"

I felt like shit. Like this is my problem. I completely afraid to open up and connect, which makes it almost impossible for anyone to get to know and like me, and perhaps fall madly deeply in love with me.

Truth be told, I have no idea what love/standards/relationship are, and haven't a clue how to understand them. But sometimes I get so frustrated with myself because I feel like I'm searching for something I have never had, but deep down inside, I'm completely aware of what it is.

It is so hard to explain, that I don't know what love is, but I know how it feels. That I have never done the whole mushy kissy things, like Marie and her boyfriend, but I know the safety of a loved ones embrace. That especially on those stupid rainy days, when I am gazing out the window up at the sky, the spot next to me seems empty. I turn in my bed expecting someone to be there. A leg to kick, an arm to hold onto, but mainly the chest where I am expecting to lay my head, and hear the even rise and fall of his breath.

Thinking back on standards, I completely want to shun them. Standards are why I don't approach people,why I keep a fair distance, because I always felt like deep down inside I am not good enough for those I secretly want to let in. I once read that my possible weakness is "shame of my secrets". At first I was like "what secrets" But it is really that I am ashamed of how much I need people, and how much I want to be wanted and cared for. But my biggest fear is that having that exposed to the ones I want to connect too.

Sometimes I feel love is enough, and creating standards are a way of trying of drive a wedge between it(love) and fear of...Letting go of the restraints that hold us in. I mean sure I'd rather my potential boyfriend not to be a pothead, crack dealer, abusive ass, and all around negative human being to be around.

And sure I don't want my friends to make me feel less than human, insecure, alone...

and I don't want my family to place the weight of success on my shoulder, and abandon me.

But when I contemplate that idea of standards(and distance, and connections), I am certain that love is enough, that it has to be enough, and maybe I have never experienced it but I surely know how it must feel. When there are pleasant moments between Marie and I( and even Mike). Or when my mother and I run in the rain.

but mainly on those grey rainy days, huddled in the blankets,staring up at the sky, and yearning for the place next to me to be filled with warmth. Or at least a very nice chest to rest my head on.

Life is getting harder and harder for us dreamers.

Time to pack and write, and sleep.

I wonder if Mr.Darcy is looking for a new love interest. I wouldn't be opposed to it.

Relationships.

My brother has a new girlfriend. Which in all honesty isn't really that shocking because he's had three at a time one. NO LIE.

Usually the girls he picks are the generic pretty types. Pretty, not really that smart, eye candy. His last girlfriend was really nice, dense, but nice. She use to come over the house all the time, which drove us crazy, because we(my mom and I) would have to go upstairs to allow them to have some time together.

But since the whole "got mom kicked out of apartment" thing, she has pretty much put the stop on any of his friends coming over. Technically he doesn't even live here anymore(though today he is lounging around). He now stays with his current girlfriend, Rachel, who my mother just recently began to dislike.

When she first met Rachel, a whopping 4 weeks ago, she had put her through the ringer with motherly questions. Those questions every mother wants to know about the person their child is dating. My mother has this way with people, she can laugh and joke around and manage to slip in questions mid laugh.

Rachel had seemed to pass the "you may be good for my child" test. Sure she wasn't the "generic" girls my brother usually dated. She is older, knows how to fix cars, and has a really strong Chicago accent, but my mom thought she may be good for my brother.

That was until she came over the house, along with my brother, with two children in tow. Some how through all the questions firing at her she had not mentioned she had had children. A BIG NO NO in my mom's book. It's not even that my mom doesn't like that fact that she has kids (3 and 8), but it's the point that she had failed to mention she had children during the questionnaire.

Ever since that little incident my mom has not been on Rachel's side. She finds those little things BIG problems now,mainly that my brother is not ready to be in a relationship with a woman with kids. He doesn't have a job, still comes over here for food, and has no idea what he wants to do with his life, yet along start a relationship with a woman who has her own stuff to think about.

My mom desperately wants him to end it. I on the other hand, am iffy on it. I didn't like her before I found out she was a mother of 2(which again is not a HUGE issue). I just didn't think she was the woman my brother would have a good relationship with. I know opposites attract, but she has bigger balls then most men(she could totally kick a man's ass).

Of course I have to listen to all the reasons my mom doesn't like the girl, and I think she says it comes all down to standards and what you wish to see in the person you are dating. Rachel has been making a lot of trips to our house, unannounced at best, with kids in tow. They are hungry and want food, and usually end up leaving with a bag full of food.

Though she fixes car, she wasn't able to fix our shitty Mazda (Morgan and I's piece of junk car), and my mom has been dealing with the two of them and multiple auto shops, to get the car fixed that they both use(though neither of them pay gas on).

Red flags are shooting up every where. The frequent stops over, their cozy demeanor as they lounge around, I mean yesterday I sat around watching spongebob square pants in my pj's, eating cereal and talking about the Kids Choice awards with an 3 and 8 year old. But I can't lie and say I wouldn't have done that if they weren't there because I would have.

My mom is certain she is not the one. Standards is what she keeps telling me. My brother is apparently suppose to have standards against needy women with baggage, because as a 22 year old he needs to figure out what he is going to do with his life.

Then my mom started talking about her standards, though secretly I know she is still madly deeply in love with James and no one will ever be better than him. I kind of wish they would both just see that already and get married. Anyway. So then as we are talking about this there is a silence, like I am suppose to jump in and define what my standards are, and all I can say is....hold on its really deep...

" I guess...I don't want him to be a POTHEAD"

I didn't know what to say, sure I talk about love and crap but are those standards or just general wants. I mean I don't think of the "he should be educated or independent" I clearly think "he has to love me" that's all. Couldn't really say that to my mother though, she would have smelled the naive part of me all over.

I guess we all have standards, even Marie admitted to me that her boyfriend didn't met her hot standard, but that I convinced her to look past that.

I guess somewhere along the line Love may not be enough. I'd like to believe it could be though. Who knows. I'll try to post my thoughts on that tomorrow.

School in one week, I'M FREAKING OUT.

oh and I have been obsessing about this guy lately, which is why I have been using a bunch of his pictures in my post.

Time to continuing writing. I am on page 13, which my brother says isn't really good, but it's 13 good pages instead of 13 pages that I am doubting and will most likely cut or re-write. YEAH. I'll provide dialogue when I get to the scene between main character(Cadence, love the name had to use it) and important yet subtle character(haven't got a name yet. I'm not good with male names). Who knows when though.

Wonderland

Insomnia.

Another sleepless night is upon me.

I think about sleeping so much that i can't go to sleep when i want to.

Anxiety for the upcoming semester is killing me.

One more week until i move in and figure out what i'm going to do with myself, life, academics, and relationships(still nonexistant) with people.

I wish the answers to all these doubts would make themselves clear, and then maybe one of these days i would get a goodnights sleep.

The deep end...AGAIN.

Every time I think I am going to write a introspective post about some lesson I have learned, reality comes crashing in and all you get is a post about me almost drowning at SIX FLAGS. NO LIE.

I wasn't even suppose to go to the six flags Waterpark extravaganza, but because of the wedding and telling my mom a month in advance that I would go, I couldn't all of a sudden change my mind. That didn't stop me from being a little mad though. I felt like I had passed up an opportunity to hang out with people my own age. That was until Marie called and told me that her friends had all bailed on them(probably wanting to avoid awkward couple moments) and that they now were going to go on a Sunday.

YEAH.

So after driving for 4 hours to get back home to quickly change into swim wear, I got in a cramped and hot car with Marie and her man for another two hour ride to SIX FLAGS. Conversation wasn't bad in the car, but I don't really talk to her boyfriend. I talk at him. Kind of like if he isn't there. It's not that I don't like him, it's just that I am weirded out that Marie has a boyfriend, and that she is now a couple. He doesn't seem to mind though, because he talks at me too.

If it hadn't been for my sleepiness I think I would have killed myself alone with his crappy music. It was like some rock music I never knew existed. It was loud and screechy, but then campy and Big Band, but the lyrics were about suicide and love. WTF. His iPod was broken so he had only burned ONE CD. I don't know how many times this stupid CD kept playing, but I was tempted to place my bookbag over my head and cry bloody murder. But I didn't.

Of course we got lost, and the two of them had a argument, and I cringed in the back, but we finally made it, and had a blast. Though I am not the strongest swimmer that didn't stop me from going on every ride. I mainly didn't want to look like a chicken because I am slightly fearful of heights, and also of drowning. I didn't feel like the third wheel that much, but there were still moments when it was clear they were having a couple moment and I was not, and did not want to be, apart of.

They made weird googily eyes, and flashed secret smiles to one another, and I tried not to barf in the corner. Marie kept saying weird things before we went on the ride, that I can't quite tell if she was trying to hint things to me. Mainly signs of if they had had sex or not. On one ride, the one I hated the most because it was pretty high up in the sky, she was like "make sure to cross your legs on the way down, protect that virginity of yours". WTF. The last thing I'm thinking about on this scary ass ride is VIRGINITY. I'm thinking "hey I hope I don't fly off this damn thing on the way down." So that was pretty weird.

Anyway after waiting in long lines for a ride that last for about 20 seconds(at best), we had decided to go on the lazy river(well it's what I call it). Except this lazy river had quite a current. Luckily it was only 3 ft deep, and other than smacking kids in the head with my huge inner tube, I was not knocking on deaths door on this particular ride. Though I did flip over and hit the button pretty hard on the way down.

The ride that almost ended my life was this huge pool with the strongest waves EVER. For some reason we thought this would be the cool down part of our day. Our feet we were hurting, we were completely drenched and tired, and voices were strained from screaming like Bi-acthes. Marie mainly.

Once again I am not a strong swimmer, but getting into the water and having the waves crash into me was actually pretty fun. I would head in, and then have this huge wave push me back to the "shore". I felt like I was in some movie, and was expecting to be pushed onto shore into the welcoming arms of Hotness . Oh I can dream can't I.

What I forgot was this dark black line, that clearly spelled "if you are not a strong swimmer stay the hell away from this line', but I was so happy that my head was still above water even after crossing the line that I didn't see this huge wave come crashing into me. I was so shocked by it and was dragged into 8 ft of water in a matter of seconds.

Who knows where Marie was at or her boyfriend for that matter of fact. I came up for air, grabbed a lung full of it, and headed back under, hoping that I was swimming in the right direction. It didn't matter though, the current was to hard for me to swim anywhere. I barely know how to swim especially not with the force of fake waves.

At this point I was sinking. Knocking on deaths door or not, I can be certain that there were no white lights. Your life doesn't flash before your eyes, and I sure as hell didn't get any calm sense of "baby I'm coming home". Literally in that moment,struggling to hold on to air, the only thing that was racing through my mind was "wait, let me do it again". Whatever the hell that meant. Before I could struggle again to break the surface of the water, I was yanked up like a rag doll in the welcoming arms of Hotness...Okay it was actually Marie who had wondered why I was under the water for so long.

She basically carried me all the way back across the black line, and the wave pushed me the rest of the way back onto land. Like it was spitting me out. Needless to say they made me wear a life jacket and sit on the inner tube, and I had to hold on to Marie's inner tube the rest of the time we spent in there, so I wouldn't float away. I know how to end things nicely don't I.

I spent my time on the inner tube thinking of what just happened, and how bad it could have really gotten. Because you always think that the moments you believe are going to be your last ,you are going to think of all the memories from your past. Yet I, who doesn't believe I would have drowned(hopefully), could only think about how much more I wanted to do. I wanted to have more memories and not be yanked from experiencing them.

My small drowning incident behind us we headed back home. Her boyfriend wanted pizza of all things and we spent an hour getting lost in this new town, because he wouldn't just go throw the drive-thru like normal people. He got us so lost, that Marie was pissed, and I was just aggravated. We both slept on the way home, but I woke up halfway and spent the next hour or so trying not to tell him to turn on the radio, or I would have to throw his CD out the window(it was that bad).

Yesterday my body had given up on me, and I ached all over. My back, legs, shoulder, arms and everything else hurt. I laid in my room, cats of course by my side and slept, so happy to be in a bed and at home.

Such a random thought to want more memories in the midst of drowning. I couldn't help but to reflect on my life, and wants, and hopes, and even what lies before me. That i hope i will have memories to tell one day. Goods ones, i mean. I hope this school year provides them. I hope my life provides them.

I just don't want my own crashing waves of insecurity to pull me in deeper than I can manage. I must find a way to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground and/or learn how to swim and enjoy the long ride without sinking to the bottom.

Indecisive

Hide and Seek

Today it is too hot to go outside. I wish i was one of those people who loved the sun and everything that revolved around it. You know those people who are always at the beach, playing volleyball and things like that. But unfortunately I like it when it rains. Thunderstorms, gray skies, and chilly weather. I like being huddled up under a warm blanket with a lame DVD on, a book my hand, and cocoa. How i love hot chocolate.

After taking the Advil, i went off into lala land and woke up late today hugging a pillow. The cats were huddled at my feet and all was quiet in the house. If every morning could be as pleasant as that, i would be set for life. I'm looking forward to the day when i will have my very own apartment, and mornings like these will be more prevelant.

It think there is a hard task of creating the life you wish to live for yourself and if my life could be full of the very simplicities that elude me at this point, i would be a very happy person.

I'm feeling a little weird today.

Like a little girl who has broken something and now has to explain it to her mother. Or if like my mother has happened upon this blog and seen all the things i have written. Which she hasn't but that is the feeling i have.

Like those moments you are playing hide and seek, and you hear the footsteps upon you. You hold your breath in hopes that they will never find you. If you are lucky, they will turn the other way and you will not be found. If you are unlucky the moment you are discovered is quite frightening. And in that instance you scream.

The weird feeling for me is the holding my breathe part in anticipation of whether they will find me or not. And it is causing my stomach to twist in knots.

I realized that i live life in a shroud of mystery, and the comfort of it's secrecy. But the comfort i revel in so much can be very confusing and frustrating to many.

I was yelled at before because of that. She did it in very joking matter(on of Katherines friends) and i didn't take it to heart. Probably because i knew that in a way she was very right.

But i don't believe i'm a girl with secrets, i believe i'm just a girl who likes to hide. Being front and center to me is more suffocating than finding the right hiding place to hold your breath in for a while.

But what happens when you outgrow your hiding space. When the door opens from where you have been hiding, and you can't even let a scream out.

Like the dude on Real World, it pains me that i make people have to come to conclusions about me and try to figure me out because of I am a very secretive person.

I not only have a wall, i have a safety lock. And sometimes i forget the combination.

So...

i'd like to hide today. Head under covers and listen to the stormwinds come in. And maybe when the storm dies i will feel safe to emerge and evaulate the damage it has caused.

But this storm looks like it's coming in strong, and i've tucked myself in pretty well for the long road ahead of me.

Awkward

Marie has been calling me non stop. Ever since lady in the water, it has been three calls every day. Trying to be a good friend, i figured i should just pick up the damn phone. What happen if it was something really serious. what happens if she needs a friends shoulder to cry on. Maybe her and her boyfriend had a spat. Maybe someone died.

I was hoping it was nothing stupid about her boyfriend. As i mentioned all she talks about on the phone is her boyfriend. I'm beginning to hate her boyfriend, her boyfriends name, the idea of boyfriends in general, i'm beginning to hate my boyfriend, who need i say i don't have at this point, becuase i'm afraid he might make me an obsessed broad like Marie. Though it would be very interesting to write things about him, still talking about my non -existant boyfriend here, i would hate to constantly talk about him. I hate him already and i don't even know him

Imanginagery boyfriend(which i will shorten to IB) ate oatmeal for breakfast.
IB made me mad
IB sleeps funny.
I think Ib might have a secret obsession with collecting bottle caps(????)
Oh...IB how i love you.
IB....how i hate you.

If you see any of these written down when i snag a boyfriend, viturally smack me. Seriously. Don't take Art Boy and South African boy in account.

She is driving me crazy. He is all we talk about. Like tonights conversation.

She called me the whole day. My phone was buzzing, i refused to pick it up, until later today when i drove by my old high school and remember that she was the only person i trusted there. We survived together, and i owe her a simple phone call from time to time.

So i called, expecting her to...i don't know...have an issue to discuss. An issue that did not concern that boy, his face, his name...HIM.

And of course what did we talk about:

Me: hey whats up
Marie: Nothing, what are you doing this weekend.
Me:going to a wedding
Marie: really?
Me: Yeah, why whats happening.
Marie:..."boyfriends" birthday is coming up and we are goinng to a water park......

OMG. Strangle me now. For real. Take whatever string that ties this annoying couple together and just take me out. I won't be mad at you.

God i hope i am not like that. But what if i am? I'm too mortified to ponder that right now.

She spent the next moments talking about it, and then the most awkward silence fell between us. AWKWARD. i was literally like

me:ALL-RIGHT(i dragged it out so long) then, i hope you have fun

Marie:I'm going to go eat, i'll call you later.

What has happened to my best friend. What has happened. First Mel Gibson going all drunk crazy on us, and now this shit. i don't know if i can take it. My comfot is slipping away from me. And it has been replaced with crazy boyfriend crazed BBF, Waterparks, and crazy Gibson.

Damn. Time to sleep. I am doped up on medication for my migrane. 48 hours shall catch me another night. I'd rather fall asleep to quirky Sam from Happy Accidents.

Goodnight.