I wish it would rain.

I know that some people dislike the rain. It puts them in a bad mood, and some how they cannot function throughout the day. I love the rain. For some reason it reminds me of my grandma.

My grandma died this summer, and to say it was a shock would once again be an understatement. My dad called late a night, but of course no one picks up the phone in my house. so we didn't recieve the message until the morning. I was sleeping, and my brother was knocking on my door. All i remember was being annoyed. Like why is he dragging me out of bed when it summer vacation.

I open, cursing under my breath, and all he says is that grandma died. I don't believe. I'm starting to think thats how it always is, 1 step Denial. I'm like "shutup, why would you say something like that." He had no emotion in his face, so obviously he's lying. He's like "dad left a message." So i go to the phone, check the voicemail, and then it came rushing down.

His voice so sad. I mean like devasted sad. Thats what put me over the edge. At that moment i didn't know what to do. Crying was the first thing i wanted, but the last thing i did. Instead i called my mom. When she answered the phone she also had that "annoyed voice", until i told her grandma had died.

The only that went my mind as i was lying, retreating, hiding, not accepting all these things was that I hoped that she liked me. Simple as that.

I mean, i don't usually reference things from the real world, but when Danny said that "the onluy person you want to talk to it(death) about is the person that you can't" well it's the truth. And the only thing that i wanted to ask her was "if she liked me"

Did she have a good life?
Was she happy with us?
I'm sorry i could have called more.
Said i love you more
Not been so afraid of your love more.
I hope i could have made you proud

I felt so bad mainly, because i was afraid of her. My grandma wasn't a knitting, cooking cookies, hugs and kisses grandma.

She played poker, smoked like it was a pasttime(she died of lung cancer), and cursed liked a sailor. I wasn't afraid of her for those reasons, but i always felt like she didn't like me. And when we moved, i didn't call as much.

That particular weekend, i had a dream my dad had died. So i called my grandma's(he was always there , they lived down the street from eachother), hoping to get in touch with him and wish him happy fathers day. He wasn't there. So i talked for like 3minutes. Asking if she doing okay, yadda yadda yadda. Except those yadda's i now regret. I was the last one from my family to talk to her. To ask her how she was. I feel so bad for being so scared of her all these years that it preventing me from showing how much i loved her.

We spent summers with her and my dad. In New York, there are like 3 story apartments. And each floor is one apartment. So my grandma lived on the second floor and my dad on the 3rd. The best memory i have of her, is when it was raining one day, and i was determined to go play outside. I knew she might not let me, but she handed me a shower cap, told me that i could have 5 minutes to run around in front of the house.

So there's me, letting to rain hit my face, looking up at my grandmother watching from the patio. And that is why i like the rain.

Soon after she died, it rained straight for like a week. I mean showered. Out of pure craziness i ran outside, in the freezing rain. Staring up at the sky, and i assume wishing her goodbye or maybe she was wishing me goodbye.

Domestically Challanged.

I hate working.

Plan and simple, it is not for me.

I don't know how people do it, go to work. do their jobly things. Go home. I just dislike immensly and whats even worse is that because of the time that i work, i have to clean up everything as the store closes.

I am not a cleaner. I just don't have the "cleanign bone" in me. You would think that i was brought up in a home of maids, a dinner staff and such because of my lack of domestic ability. Not the case. I just am not a cleaner. I take forever to do it, when i do do it, it's half ass, and then i just kind of drag around. The assistant manager, guy who made me the coffee, takes it easy on me. Must be my sweet charm or something, cause i'v been there two weeks and still manage to screw something up, and he just smiles shows me how to do it, and laughs.

The owner of the shop. Not so much. He knows i can't clean, and because of that i don't think he likes me that much. I'm watched constantly by him at the register, while i'm cleaning, while i', "sweeping". He keeps asking me " are you sure you know how to do this", even if i don't my stubborness and wanting to show him wrong prevents me frm admitting when i have no idea what i am doing. He frowns a lot when he is around me. He has reason to frown though.

Reason1
I didn't wear gloves when i was shredding the vegetables, he found out because some older guy(late 40's) who works there ratted me out. I got ratted out. So i wasn't i wasn't wearing my gloves, it's not like my hand was dirty. So tomorrow the people who ask for mushroom, green peppers or onion on their sandwich, will have a little piece of me with them, whats the big deal.

Reason 2
At the register i am suppose to announce what the order is, by speaking in this ridiculous microphone. I usually forget, so all the cooks have no idea what is suppose to be on the sandwiches, even though there is a screen that tells everything i input into the register.

Reason 3
Once again my cleaning, not the greatest at it. I can't sweep to save my life. It's more like shoving things under other things. Mopping is also another thing. I can't seem to coordinate the moping with the floor, and the water, and i'm tripping and sliding all over the place. Washing dishes is more like dipping in water, shake shake shake, dry.

The only thing this job has taught me is that i don't want to be doing this in 5 years. All i can think of when i am working, is how much i don't want to be there. I'm serving to all these kids who are having a grand old time not working and here i am trapped behind a counter, only a couple of feet from freedom. It makes me think of the painting Nighthawks by Edward Hopper, trapped in this lifeless place as things go one around you.

I want a career not a job, and this is clearly a job. A horrible horrible in which i have to clean, shred, sweep, mop, scrub.

And then i burnt myself on something. I'm a pre-med student(yes i am going to be doctor one day), wanting to work in the trauma unit. But the one thing that i don't like is burns. Not that i wouldn't totally help someone who was burning, just that seeing the burns ...i couldn't do. Luckily "watchful" boss didn't see though i was resting my hands in the mushroom, b/c surprisingly they soothed my hand. Oh i forgot about that thing...

Reason 4
Keep slightly burnt finger in pile oof cold mushrooms.

I'm so tired, but i wanted to write a post before i totally pass out.

Beckett

My First Meeting

My head is teeming from this meeting. I don't know if I am creatively inspired and need to write a script right now, or my brain is completely fried from all the ideas people were spewing out in the span of 20minutes.

I leave early for everything. I went to the building where the club was going to be held, earlier today, but I couldn't find the floor. We have this big center at my school, where everything takes place. Eating, the bookstore, music, you name it it's there. We call it the HOUSE/COMMON...Though I have been there a million times, b/c it is the center of the universe here, I never knew there was a 3rd floor. So I'm walking around, up the stairs, around the corner and overplayed imaginable looking for a way to get to the "third" floor. It's like that book that I use to (and still love even though it is for fourth graders ) called Wayside High is falling down. Great Book. Anyway in the story there was a whole chapter devoted to a floor that didn't exist. That's how I felt.

So I decided to go back to my dorm, do some "homework" (lifetime had on a good movie today) and look for it around the time the meeting started. As I get to the Common, I once again look around. But this time I take the elevator and low and behold there is a third(and even fourth) floor button. This elevator was so small, I was getting claustrophobic, but it made it's way to the third floor. I get off and notice I have never seen this place before I am a little intrigued, I head in any which direction looking at the many numbers on the door, trying find 302. There was this jock type dude behind me, I instantly stereotype him and imagine that he is going to some football thing. Until I notice that we are both staring around, looking for the same room. After making individual attempts to find the room, we decide two heads (in this case) are better than one.

He seems really nice. We make small awkward chatter, find the meeting room, and then I go to the bathroom. I can do small talk for a minute but to avoid the awkward silence...Yes I'll admit I hid in the bathroom, taking deep breathes, b/c I now social interaction is about to take place. Did I mention that I took Speech class in the 9th grade. I am pretty shy, but I can do public speaking like it's brushing my teeth. The small intimate things freak me out. After feeling like a chicken for hiding in the bathroom instead of chatting it up with the new boy, I head into the meeting. Just him and I. He was real nice, he said that this was his first time being in the club and that he wants to be a writer and that he was thinking about going into radio. I don't remember what I said, but it must have made sense because we kept talking until the room started filling in.

SO this film club, is basically more of a place where you bounce ideas off of each other. After having to introduce ourselves and declare our interest in film (clearly mine being writing) we gathered in a circle and played,"someone throw an idea out and as a group we will come up with a story". I was sitting next to a pretty...How do I say...Enthused writer soon as they asked someone to throw out an idea, she nearly jumped out of her seat with this crazy concept. Classic mismatched pair who lead a life of crime...I think. It was so confusing. I sat and listened, which I'm good at doing, and just absorbed it.

I've never really garnered ideas off of any one else. I mean if I do write it's usually my own concept, and if I share it with someone(who usually ends up being my brother), I just get the feedback to revise. This was totally different. Crazy girl next to me was throwing absurd things, like she had already written the thing out, some dude in the corner was always analyzing every aspect of this weird plot, I remained quiet. Nodding frequently and laughing at jokes(hey it's a step). Who I was most surprised by was guess who...The jock dude. He's from South Boston, really straight to the point, but his ideas were good...I mean I ever did co-write something, I would use him to bounce idea's off of. I was a little smitten(yes I said smitten)with his plot concepts, he's a good old Boston Boy, though I must fault his love of the Red Sox. (I've from New York, you could get shot for something like that).

By the end of the whole thing my brain was buzzing. I absorb so much of how people think, and was glad that I hadn't thought of that weird concept. Though they seemed to like it. I'll try to put the concept in a few words or less. Tupperwear, Gypsy, Russia, Gangster, Heart Problem. Yes I was as confused as you probably are.

It was fun though. I liked it. I have to get use to bouncing idea's to people. But at least I have a club under my wing. There's a meeting every Sunday and I guess it's just a time to network our material. I don't really have any material, but Boston boy announced to the club that he was thinking of adapting a short story he had written and was possibly looking for a co-writer. We'll see what happens.

Clubs

On a lighter, i hope, note...i am joining a club.

I don't agree with my mom on everything but i do agree with her on a point that i am going to be at this school for a while and i minus well meet some people who i can enjoy the time with until med school.

We had a club fair this Wednesday, and i ventured down the block of lined tables with people advertising their clubs. If i say it was varied, i mean it. One end had the Republican Club, the Intertional students club, The Frisbee club to the other end which had The Chemisty Society, Business Club, Savvy(i had no idea what that one was but they were giving out free lollipops), and a Woman's Right Club. I went up to the Women's right club, just to browse but i noticed that all their pamphlets were anti-abortion and they want to make it illegal by passing a congressional law. After i saw that i was like "this isn't for me". We know i agree with choices and that group wasn't about them.

It was hot, and i was getting bored of walking up and down the street looking for a club that fit me. There was Chemistry society, but i was only partially interested cause the guy there was a little cute. It's wrong to join anything because of the cuteness factor, but i believe they put him there for that reason, about 5 girls were standing around by the time i passed. Then i spotted the Film Club. I like Films, like writing, combine them together and there must be a place for me. No was at the table, so i walked up, did the whole "hey how you doing" and he preceded to tell me about the club.

It's sound interesting. He kept saying cool, which kind of defeats the purpose of making his statements cool, but he was nice. I was handed a pamphlet and told the meetings are on sunday at 6. Which leads to today now being sunday, and me going to this club meeting at 6pm. I haven't been in a club since 9th grade, but i think important that i try to socialize, and try to meet some friends. Even if they are as few as 1 and 2 they are better than none.

I'm nervous, but not that nervous.

I returned the key to the other room today. It very great waking up in my own room, the morning sun shining on my face. Like it was kissing me awake from a long sleep. The best of the day for me is the few minutes when you are waking up. When i was younger they are probably the moments remember the most.

Memories are bittersweet. The older you get the more you seem to want to hold on to them, but they seem to want to let you go. My grandma recently found 19 pictures of me when i was a kid, i think i was more happy about her finding those pictures than finding out i got into my dream school (University Pittsburgh, i love you. Hope to see you in a couple of years) . Okay so that was an exaggeration, but i was happy that she found those pictures.

I had the best childhood ever, and even with all thos great moments, the one's i remember the most are of me waking up to the day. Wether it was at my dad's house on the weekends. waking up to the smell of pancakes and bacon. Or my mom, waking up to the sun shinning on my face, it was those moments when i felt competely safe and loved.

Even now when i am in a boring class and i daydream like crazy it's of lying in the grass, resting with the sun shining lightly on my face. Needless to say, waking up to that today was awesome. And will be a sign of greater things to come.

I choose

Rarely do i get inspired by movies. Okay so that's a total lie. Movies, the good ones anyway, inspire me a lot. It's learning another perspactive from a stranger, or something like that. Today was suppose to be moving day. Yet...

I woke at 8 o'clock, i was sad. My room devoid of pictures and life stared blanky at me. I knew that at 1:45 when my mom came i would be moving. You'd think i'd watch some more tv, listen to music, something. Instead i went back to sleep. I hugged my bed, and just lied there fading in and out of sleep land.

By the time i knew it, it was 12 o'clock and i was still in bed. I had to call my new roommate to tell her i was moving in. When i called no one picked up. I was dreading it. My mom called around 1 saying they had gotten into town and to meet them downstairs. As i was leaving a movie by Michelle Pfieffer was on called "Dangerous Minds".Seen it? I have seen it before, and it's okay movie but not one of my favs in the least. It was at a point in the movie where Michelle is asking the students what they think is an important verb, or something. One girl says "Choose". The class laugh and she explains herself. We all have the power to "choose" the outcome of a situation. One dude was like

Dude:[stereotypical inner city voice] so you saying that if a dude holds a gun to your head, you have a choice to die or not
Girl:[same voice] No, but you have choice of going out screaming or not

I was sitting on the bed at this moment. And i was like "she's right" we do have a choice. Even if it's all we have, even if it's wrong, it's ours. So i left, a inspired and more determined to keep my room.

I meet my mom and brother downstairs. There's not a smile on anyone's faces. We are real close even though we argue like animals and we know when each is feeling down. WE head off to the new dorm to meet my roommate. We are all frustrated, my brother is complaining about the heat and sweating profusely(i though he had threw water on his face he had so much sweat on him), my mom is aggravated that i am just draggin this thing out, i am thinking of a plan, twirling around the many different things i can do to get money.

When we get to the dorm, we don't have the password to open it. I'm already pissed i haven't meet the girl yet. After 30 minutes of running around, getting the password, getting into the place. I venture down the long hallway to Ciara Lynn. What a name. As i approach i hear loud talking and music. I'm scared shitless. I knock on the door, close my eyes, and when i open them....

Worst possible scenerio. She seems disinterested that i am there. Her words are short, to the point and not at all inviting. She stands in the door, not letting my look inside. I say goodbye, tell her that i will be by later and then as soon as i turn around the first that pops in my head is:

"i choose not to move from my room".

When i head back outside to my brother and mom, i tell them straight up. I ain't moving. And i'm not a person who uses the word ain't. I was serious at this moment. I'm not going to live her or anyone else on this campus. We are going to find a way, if i have to work longer, harder, like my life is on the line then that is just what i am going to have to do. This MY ROOM. My space, a place that i have felt comfortable in, and I ain't moving. I choose not to.

Strong Huh...I surprised myself there for a second. Must have surprised them too. Cause they bought it, hook line and sinker. When we head back to my room, to discuss what in the hell i am going to do, i plead my case, like a woman on trial. I will do whatever it takes to keep this room. And i mean it, i like it here, i love it actually. I feel safe comfortable, and not like a burden. With her(ciara lynn, still what a name) i would have to make excuses as to why i am always in the room, i wouldn't feel comfortable, i'd freak out. There has to be a way, and in two weeks, will see if that way works out.

My mom seemed to understand. We went to the big RA downstairs and explained the situation and explained that i wasn't moving. I hate having to tell people that i am not a people person, but it's the truth. I mean i am a people person, but not until i warm up to you. I especially don't get along with peers. Teachers like me, but students like so much and trying to warm up to them just doesn't happen. He understood completely, and said that i could stay until monday, then i would have to go to the Housing department and tell them that i ain't moving. and hopefully the wont give my room away.

We left on a good note, but i know what i have to do, if i want to keep this room. Fight for it. Like my life is on the line people. In that respect i am ready. Wish me good luck

Prospective Digs

Once again through all the hecticness of the day, i forgot to write down the news about my apartment hunting. Something which at least makes me smile, which i don't seem to be doing a lot lately these days.

So, before school even started i knew that eventually i would need an apartment. The dorm, though i don't want to leave it, is a lot of money. Especially for someone who doesn't get their own bathroom. It is about 2grand a semester, plus with tuition its pretty high. So i did some searching on my colleg website for off campus living possibilities.

Of all the places i saw one that i liked the most. I am very simple person, a cable wire, air conditioning, bathroom and a bed is really all i need to be content. This place seems to be it. After my bank fiasco, i went to the apartments to check out the rooms. None is available right now and the waiting list is pretty long, but when i saw the place it was just right. It was so perfect.

It's just a one bedroom, living room, bathroom, and a kitchen without a sink. Weird b/c there is a stove, don't know why you would have a stove without a sink. Nethertheless i was enchanted as soon as i walked in.

I kind of take in the residents i see living in the building. As soon as i got to the entrance to boys came out with a cute dog. Check Plus. I step into it, and it is like stepping into a historic place. Really 1930's in interior, old elevator with the large buttons on it. The lady who showed me the apartment was very nice, and hopefully she will remember my face when going over the list.

Thw view was awesome, across from the theater i previously talked about, and right in front of the mexican cafe. Also it is like 10 steps away from 1) my job 2) school. Getting it would be a relief from all the stress i am feeling at this point.

I'm so tired, but i don't want to go to sleep. It's like the opposite of christmas in that i'm not going to wake up with a bunch of presents under the tree, but it is more the feeling the night before. Of the antsiness in the pit of your stomach which prevents you from having a good nights sleep. My eyelids are literally droping as i speak and it's only 9 o'clock.

My mother is avoiding my calls. Clearly she feels bad, and after me hyperventalating on the phone about my not wanting to leave, i can imagine that she is feeling downright miserable at the fact that i am hurtung so bad.

The old Beckett would have totally not have cried on the phone with her, but i don't like this concept of me not being able to express how i feel. It was wierd, i was crying pretty hard on the phone and she's al like

"i can't talk to you like this, you are making me feel bad. Call me when you stop crying"

Well what am i suppose to do, pretend like i's all okay. Have a chirpy tone as i am talking to you, i want to cry, i want to vent, and the last i needed was someone telling me not to do so. I needed her to just listen, and i couldn't even get that.

I am so use to disappointment it has become my middle name. i hate to think that i am growing up to become a person who has lost all faith in people. But little by little i am, and it's frustrating. Almost in a sense that parents or family is in some way suppose to remind you that it's okay.

On the phone i just wanted to yell "You said it would be okay, you lied" Like a stubborn child i had honestly felt that she disappointed me. Like finding that your dad isn't superman,your mom can't make everything happen, and out of circumstance you have to deal.

When you try your best and you don't succeed.

Well i tried, and it didn't work out. I mean i don't know if it could have worked out because my mom didn't want to take the risk of me not getting approved for an amount needed to keep in my room.

To say i was sad would be an understatment...devastated is more like it. Crushed, hurts so bad it tops hurting and just leaves you numb. I know this probably doesn't seem like a thing to get all worked up about. But i'm sick of it never working out. And i think is more tramuatizing then losing my room.

So tomorrow, for who knows how many times, i will to walk out of something i was beginning to like. Like the three year old replica of me, i will look back for the last time on something i wanted to work so bad and didn't.

I don't understand. If there is a God i must have pissed him or her off along the way, and this is payback for all the "in names" i use. It's funny how i only talk about God and religon when i'm am totally pissed. Like his or her only purpose is to be a venting post.

I'm going to enjoy my last night in here. I'm going to enjoy the silence, cause that's what people don't appreciate,and maybe why i don't have a lot of friends, cause sometimes people just don't enjoy the silence. Sometimes they forget that it is those moments, in the comfort of your own place that you can truly be content. I'm going to miss that the most.

Miss watching tv til 1 0'clock, miss being messy, miss talking out loud as i write these words. and dancing.

I won't miss the roaches, but i will miss everything else.

I'm okay i think.

I refuse to be the New Girl

It's like a race against time, and i'm not giving up. Today i had so much to do, or i would my room and have to get a roommate. Last night after i apologize to my mom for giving the "over the phone" silent treatment, i came up with a plan.

Today after all of my classes i knew that i had to go to the back of america and plead for a credit card. Yes i would my credit card for the upcoming payment, yes i am desperate. Of course i didn't get out till 2 today and my "friend" mike wanted me to walk with him to his car so he could put money in the meter.

Mike is weird. I mean he's a walking hypocrite and kind condemes you for something he himself would have done. Though i assume we are buddies on a level he always talks about his dissatification that his real friends aren't going to this college. As if i'm not a good enough friend, i am kind of just a friend filler until the real one's come. Though he changed three of his classes to be in mine, haven't figured out if it is to just cheat off of me yet.

So we are walking downtown, and i notice all these places i may like to actually hang out at one of these days. There was theater that shows indie flicks and there was a Mexican cafe, also interesting. Anyway. I make it to Bank of America and basically sign up for like 3 credit cards. I mean it was a long shot, and risky but the man assured me that i minus well just try. Of course i don't find out for ten days if i get a card, on the tenth day I should get a card or a paper saying i wasn't approved.

He gave me his wife's number to possibly look at some student loans. Which help immensly. He seemed to care and i have to call her later on. I want this room so bad. We moved a lot as a kid. I mean only 4 times in my lifetime, but all times in which i was comfortable with myself and surrounding.

My parents separated when i was 3. It was a rough marriage after i was born and my mom decided that raising my brother and i in the sitauation wasn't good. We left in the dead of night, like bandits, moving to my grandma's house in White plains. Those best times of my life. My grandma, cousin, aunt her infant son, my brother, mom and i, lived in big house on great neighborhood.

We eventually had to move so we moved to another part of Westchester after 7 years in White Plains. This top the previous place, i flourished, i was liked, i had awesome friends. Cliche i know. But i was happy, i felt i belonged. Then my mom got a transfer, being the new had work in Westchester, being the new girl here didn't. And that's why i am stacking my claim, and refusing to be the new girl anymore.

There like a stigma to being the new girl. The new is uncomfortable and awkward and out of place, and if i have to be all of those three i rather be it on my accord. In my own little room, with my tv, easy-mac, and burrito stops.

I swear i am not Bi-Polar

Trust me it is rough. I don't always have updays, i don't expect them. But i hate always feeling like the outsider sometimes, though being on the outside is sort of inspiring at times.

My mom is great and she bust her ass to help me in anyway shape or form. She hates seeing me cry, because the only time i do it is when i am feeling really low. She gets mad at herself almost as much i get mad at myself, and knowing that i am sad makes her sad. We are like connected that way. She is my only friend. I mean literally , not in the Gilmore Girlisque way. But in like i real way. We are both kind of on the outside and a lot of times being their frustrates us both. I love her though, more than she will ever know, i understand that finanically she does not have the money to afford this single room. But she tried her hardest to get the money, i honestly think she would have sold her soul to the devil just so i could have the money. We take out our frustrations on the ones we love the most, and b/c of that i take most of my frustration out on her.

After the whole "beckett you have to move into a new room" phone conversation, i headed off to good old work. Though i tried to have a smile on my face, my boss(he is like the manager, but 24), who i usually joke around with noticed that i was a little down today. I had to lie, because telling the truth might have just made me mad again. SO i said that i had all day classes today and that i was a little worn out. It was nice of him to notice that i was sad, it's like criteria of people i want to be friends with. Clearly if you see that i am upset, ask me about it? He was sympathetic and offered to make me a cappucino. I can't say no to free( though he may dock from pay) coffee, and he made me and the other guys pizza for more energy.

Sweeping away, drinking my cap. from time to time, my desperation sort of calmed down. As i stated in early entries i have horrible anxiety,and the thought of living with someone, taking in part my horrible experience last semester with a roommate, my anxiety went up the roof.

The one part of my personality i like the most is that i always come up with a new plan ,before surrending.Surely there must be a loan i can take out at my bank. SO tomorrow before walking to the room change lady, i will go to bank. See if there anything that i can pull out of the hat. Without optimism i would be no where. Luckily i have that. Maybe that is all we have, a little hope that gets us through the day.

Not giving up, trust me i want to sometimes. It is easier to fail then it is to succeed, and life sucks at times. It's not a movie, the ending isn't always clear, but like an avid movie goer, i watch and go through the whole thing before i have my opinion of it. That's how i take life, until i am old and grey i will go through it, and only on the last moments when i look back on my life i decide whether to give it two thumbs up or down.

P.S. Through all this craziness i forgot to at least write down the highlight of my day. I'm taking a english class that deals with poetry. I suck at poetry. We had to write an interpretation tuesday in class on a philosophical quote, and we would recieve a Check +, Check, Check -, or O. So today she hands back our papers, but announces that everyone got a check + but that those with comments she wrote on them were really good. So i get my paper back and it has a Check + + on it. Apparently I am a good writer. of course now i have to keep up the insightfulness, but i'm happy that grade wise this semester is starting out good. I can't believe i am a college sophomore and still i have classes in which the check method is used.

Suicidal Thoughts.

I'm not feeling that great today.

I won't be living in a single room anymore, because my mom can't afford it.

So i will be moving in with a roomate(sorry i deleating the whole roommate blog, but it was so long and i didn't want that to be on this bolg)

I'm sad. And afraid, and dreading it.

I love how when i cry, my mom instantly gets mad at me. Like "suck up the tears"

I can't even glide the knife across my skin right.

Defeats the purpose doesn't it.

So now i just have all these scratch mark on my arms.

A reminder of how pathetic i am.

Of how i want to just be like them.,

Happy, smiling faces walking down the street, without a care.

They could be liars, hiding the pain.

But i'd rather be a liar at this point than a loner.

Beckett A. Hughes

Perception at it's Worse

I'm bugged out with my mom claiming that i need more friends. I could sense the worry in her voice, as she said "It's good to join clubs, you need to meet friends Beckett". It ain't easy, and perceptions about people can be heartbreaking.

Case in point the journal entry where i spilt soda on my phone, and thinking that "cool" girl next door would help, turned out to be a complete bust. Friends are hard to come by. Sure you can meet anybody and start a conversation with them. But as soon as class, the moment, ect, has ended so has that connection.

Everyone i have "meet" has turned out to be a sort of disappointment. I feel that many people my age are just posers. Like you have to be apart of some scene to be even on the radar of "hey she's cool".

As i was walking down the street last semester, they had all these clubs promoting there clubs and stances on things. I was hounded by this one fanatic about saving something...but when i asked him a question about it, he knew nothing. Nothing at all about it.

So i don't wear black clothing, and wear depression on my sleeve. Doesn't mean i don't like NIN. Metallica. Coldplay(hey they are a good group).

Just because i don't walk around with a pulitzer wining novel, doesn't mean i don't like to indulge in some Vonnegut.

I like movie trivas, and watching America's Next Top Model. I like Traveling, road tips, and having fun. I like coffee, staying up late, and a occasional trip to I-Hop.

I just don't meet friends. Not at all. Not ones who aren't posers, who can think for themselves, and are not concieted. WHERE ARE YOU? seriously. I'm so sick of it, of not having any...but i don't find people who i connect. All i see is people me age concerned about clothes, cars, and money. That's not me

So if you are out there...my friend among all the stupid people i have meet. I'm so sorry we haven't meet yet. And i wish we could become friends. So then maybe my mom won't have to worry so much.

I hate Love

Love is a weird concept. It causes people to totally change and behave irrationally. I think it sucks away the indivual and merges the two peope into some unrecongnizable force that you try to stay away from in all respect.

I remember in high school i was friends with this girl named Jessica and i knew a boy named Brnadon. Jessica was a quirky, art driven girl and we managed to drove creative inspiration off each other. Brandon was a smart, computer driven guy. Very formal and kind of boring.

Somehow in this weird fusion, they started dating. Together they were this unplesant person. He became all emotional and non robotic self, and she became the a smothering , kissy face girlfriend. Who was always there.

I think love changes people. I think they lose a sense of themselves to please their significant other. And for those purposes i hate love. I don't understand it. Everyone wants to be in love, to hold hands, and have a "meaningful" relationship with somebody. Your friends become outlines of the person you knew, their views, perpectives, and life plans change when the "L" word comes into play.

It's a double edge sword. I think love can be a good thing. And clearly not only the kind of Mush mush love. Family love, friend love, animal love. Either way Love is this emcompassing thing that consumes us. And Why? because we desparetly want to feel understood. We definately are looking for the comfort, and safety that person or animal(just in case you are the lady wiht 20 cats in her house) provides us.

As in mother, she loves me dearly. Love which drives her to worry obsessively about my well being. She's statring to notice that i don't have many friends. I think it worries her. And my love love, constantly leaves me reassuring that i'm okay, even when i'm not.

Friend love: In which we depend soley on them for support. We are almost defined by them . How many of us have stated "i have the best friends in the world and without them i don't know where i would be". Hmm...

Animal love: is just our need for that unconditional love. Some of us relate to them more than humans. In essense i can't say much about that because i have 2 cats.

Is that like the human race whole objective. Are we just suppose to grow up, find somebody, and make badies and that's it. Is that love. Or is it just that few moments of love that keeps people searching for it.

You know...everything seems perfect, the world is beautiful, kisses in the morning, strolls at night, i love you's at just the right moments...but that doesn't last. Am i too naive to think so. But it doesn't last, somewhere along those lines, Life happens, and that is the destruction of love.

Not every ending is going to be like Garden State. We aren't going to meet our Muse who changes our life, and such and such.We are all just going to be this soul on continually search to fill whats empty. And though love is part of it, it can't be all of it. It's not what gets us through the day. It shouldn't be what makes us soley happy.

I like love when it's normal, when monatiety sets in, when i love you's become common place but still important, when there isn't this effort to keep it perfect, when it's pure and true, and not this contrived happiness that isn't real. That's what life and love is.

Getting off early...Oh, and i don't mind the French

As the title suggest i got off work about 90minutes early. I never know what to think about that. I mean i'm happy that i don't have to stare at the walls with bored content, as i watch the many people pass the restuarant instead of coming in. (i now define fast food, as requring a drive thru, and a main objective is to get people to order and take out instead of sitting in. As with the place that i work, we kind of want people to sit down and have a good time). But then i don't get paid for those 90minutes in which i am not working. Either way i am just happy to be in my room, watching tv, instead of behind the register being yelled at for stupid mistakes.

I'm not really getting yelled at, but just reprimanded for Thursday. They kept me there way past 9 o'clock and being so ready to leave i did a sort of half ass job sweeping and wiping up. So today i was basically watched as i swept the floor, with a smile on my face thinking of A) the money B) the money. Not that i have a clue as to when i get paid. Though my mom keeps reminding me to ask my boss, i'll try to squeez it in.

There is this french boy who has just started coming in to order some sandwiches. I can't help but to think he is sorta hot, it must be the accent. It's true girls unfortunately fall for the foreign accent. It's cute seeing him use a totally wrong word, and pronounce things all funny. As i was walking back to my dorm, i saw him (Damnit i should have been working then) and he asked me how i was doing. Yes the words simple, friendly gesture that you say to a familar face, but with the accent it sounded more like "hi, i think you're gorgeous and would love nothing more than the spend the rest of my life loving you." I almost melted, regained composure, smiled, said hey back, and then continued on my way, cursing myself for not having something more saavy to say other then "hey" with an all too chirpy voice, sucking on a straw.

With this spare i have no idea what to do. Study. Watch tv. Listen to music. Write my story. I think i'm just going to rest.

European History

Today was my first day of History class. I liked it. I have lecture on Tuesday and Thursday, and then i have a smaller discussion class on Monday. The discussion time is taught by a TA. He was nice, and i'm getting use to having to talk in class and don't freak out much anymore when i have to. He doesn't laugh though, which is weird. I understand dry humor completely, but when he makes a joke, that makes us laugh, he barely cracks a smile. Getting up at 8 was a killer though, i dragged myslef out of bed. Put on some music and had to dance to get me awake. And i am no dancer. It's like watching Tom Cruise in Risky Business. I literally have on my underwear and tee-shirt,and am doing some weird modern dance inspired footwork. Maybe i was a ballet dancer in my past life.

There are so many people here. It drives me crazy. This university is big, and there are more freshman than last year. Even on the street you are bumping shoulder, dodging elbows, and such. It's insane.

I'm beginning to get use to the small chatter. I have talked to at least 5 people in my class. And yes i consider asking a question speaking to someone. I just allies in class, even if they aren't people who will eventually be my friend. We have to do the stupid, get a partner ask him or her these question and then introduce them to the class. It is so stupid, banal, and just corny. I always grab the least threatening face. Out of comfort, and then we do the class assignment. Today it was a girl named Laura, she seems nice, really smart, and a psych major. She told me to take another teacher for Psych 101, because the man's class that i dropped is (as i figured) extremely boring and that there is another good teacher to get next semester seeing i dropped that class. Always a useful thing.

I have to go to work at 5. Hopefully i won't be the only working tonight, and i can get out at a resonable time. I swear they are working me to the floor. I also am going to study some more chemistry, i'm trying to get straight A's. Impossible feat....Maybe. But there's always hope, and determination.

What i learned about European History today: King James was kind of crazy in a egostical sort of way.

The tale of Two

I can't talk about him.

I know i said that i would.

But maybe i'm just not ready to talk about him yet.

Everytime i try to write it down, i doesn't come out the right way.

I feel like i woun't be able to express what i feel in words.

He makes me head hurt.

I make my head hurt.

Maybe i should just reframe from talking about him altogether.

I feel stupid for thinking of him.

Love or not.

It was such a long time ago.

And yet i can't seem to let him go.

I don't want to talk about him

I really don't, but thus i must to just get it our there. To be truthful to myself and the public. To discover what powers he had over me to keep captivated so long. It's a story told many times, and replayed often in my head. But i'm sick of him being in my dreams, of holding every other man to his standard. I am sick of the longing that has stayed with these past years, and i am finally ready to let him go as he has let me. Will you come with me? To uncover the truth. That is a whole nother posting.

Visiting day

Like some inmate in jail, my mother came to visit me and bring supplies that will cover me during my stay. I was exicted that she was coming, she's the only person i can stand for long periods of time, and someone who you don't have to make mindless chatter with to feel connected. Of course when she came and discussed money woes i then regretted her stopping and bringing up the fact that money is going to be tight, and more pressure is on me. I instantly become quiet and don't feel much like talkng anymore.

I don't think what anyone knows(except the people who read this blog, which is no one) is that cry almost everyday. I'm not usually a cryer. When i was younger i never cried. Even when i got hit in the head with a basketball, fell and almost twisted my ankle, i never shed a tear. The only way my mom knew something was ever really wrong is when i actually cried, and usually they were things in which affected me emotionally, like when i figured out that i wouldn't be able to celebrate fathers day at my school like most kids, and that i kind of missed having a dad. That's usually where my tears came from. I remember spending weekends with him, and it's weird cause though my parents have been divorced since i was two, and if you ask me right now what dad's favorite color is, I wouldn't be able to tell you. But whenever me and him are together it's like we are these the only two people who matter. It's this ease that we have with each other, like a big secret of the world that only the two of us have. At the time i didn't know what it was, but leaving his house was tramutizing. On that particular night, on the way back home, i sat in the back of my mom's van and cried. Silently wishing i would never have to leave him, and that i could care for him always. He is the only man who will ever make me cry, and the only one who i will invest all my faith so much that it hurts.

*Anyway*

Lately i've been crying like it is a job. I usually do it in my room, in the hallway back to my room, biting my lip down the street to reframe from crying. It's sickening. Eventually i get over it, mad at myself for crying, and vowing not to do it again. Well today that's how it was, except i had to do it in the bathroom so my mom wouldn't see it. And then the day got better. Crying for me is the release that i am looking for with all this pint up aggression, frustration, and everything else. We just have to do whatever we can to survive this semester. It's going to be fucking rough, more tears will be shed, but we only have each other, and with we can overcome anything. We left on a good note, and i was determined to work hard. At everything, at everyprice.

So i head back to my room, and my friend calls. I don't even know why i call her a friend, she patrionizes me, belittles me, and straight up is mean. But she's my only friend and for that reason i remain in speaking terms with her. She wants to know what i am doing, i tell her about my job. And instantly she rags on it. She teased when i didn't have a job, and than critizes me when i get job. Saying that it is stupid to get a job during school when i have never had one. Well what the Fuck else am i suppose to do. Not get a job, and not go to school, or get one so i can help my mom out a little. LAY OFF. Sometimes i would rather just not have her as a friend at all, when all she does is critizes every move that i make, and rub it in my face of all that she is doing. Well Fuck off. Just fuck off, and leave me alone for Christ sakes.

Maybe i'm a loner at heart.

The pathological liar and me

My brother is a liar, and sometimes i think he is sociopath. It's frightening to think that this person you grew up with and sort of admired growing up isn't the person you see anymore. It is literally like staring in the face of a stranger, a dangerous one. Before we moved we lived in Westchester NY. I talk a lot about being lonely and having no friends, but in Westchester it wasn't the case. I was pretty popular, had a tight group of friends, and was happy then. My brother was another story, he was a little overweight and hung out with the dorky crowd, and it must have been tough for him when kids at Middle School would go "you are Beckett's Brother right?" seeing that he is older then me. As soon as we moved to the new town, the roles switched. I became the outsider while he flourished. But unlike him, i retained a sense of goodness, while his became distorted. It's like giving a man power who obviously never had before so in fear of losing it he becomes a tyrant to all who can expose his insecurities. Which would be my mother and i.

I mean i can go over the things that my brother has said or done. About 5 years ago, he threatened to kill my mother and i. We had to put locks on our doors for the fear that he would do it. I even wrote my own death letter, in case we ended up dying and they needed to know who did it. He said he hated us on a daily bases. He would tell his friends that we were horrible to him and that we were out to hold him back. He has stolen money from me, broken my stuff, and cursed me out when i don't agree with him. Which is often. He has his friends over all the time, drives the car though he doesn't have a license, and is downright evil. He lies like it is a normal thing. And he lies about everything. If he loses something, he will say i lost it,and then place the item in my room to make it look like i just overlooked a spot. He stole my cellphone when he left the house to go to his friends, i called it several times to see if i could hear it in the house. Then when i called again he cut the cell phone off. Then after my mom yelled at him, he said he just saw the cell phone in my room, putting it on my bed to make it look like i just missed it.

The kid is 21 years old. Failed Highschool, doesn't work, been arrested, and is just a continually disappointed. What irks us, is that he blames us for all of this. Like we in some way owe him for how he has fucked up his life. I'm not a psychologist but i do think he is crazy, and i do think he is sociopath. Out of the list his traits show up on almost all of them. His obsessive lying, his overdramatics, his egotism, selfishness, superiority complex, and the list goes on. It's like living in a house with someone who you absolutely dispise but who you continue to have faith in. You want him to succeed and be a good person, and believe that he will be the man of the family. Which isn't the case, i'm more man then he is, with the exemption of having a penis. I have taken over the role as older sibling, in his lack to be one. He isn't a good son, brother, or human being. And i don't think i want him in my life. It's painful to say and write down and think it, but Damn it's the truth.

My dad is no help in the department. I mean i love my dad, but he is not the greatest role model in the world. My grandma could have helped my brother out, but she died 2 months ago and now i don't even think my dad has the strength to deal with my brother's antics. I've never had a father figure. I always had to depend on myself for emotional security. My mom and i are more like friends, so she depends on me to make her proud and happy, and i think i spend more time doing that then trying to make myself happy. I feel the weight of my family on my shoulder and i think that is where my anxiety lies. Failure is not in my cards, i have no other option than to succeed b/c i feel that they depend on me to reverse this cycle.

I must admit i liked to be taken care of for a while. I liked for someone else to just be strong with or for me. It's stupidly idealistic, but i live in my fantasies. I write stories always of strong willed girls who encounter strong willed men who will just take the pressure off of them. Who lets them completely be vulnerable instead of this guard they have up. Every female character is me, tired, broken, struggling to continue on and then they met someone who will change their life forever. I don't believe soulmates are romantic interest. I think they are people who you met who affect your life so much that it seems if they were meant to meet you, to change you, to love, to care for you always. Most of them are love interest in my story, just so it doens't get all boring, but mainly they are confidants who you can depend and vice versa.

My mom is coming down today, of course my brother did something else that put her in a sour mood. I thnk the worst thing about my brother is not that he is pure evil, but that he just disappoints you. You believe and trust in him so much, and then he just manages to destroy it. And you feel stupid for having so much faith in him, like you have been trick. especially my mom. It's like talking to a dead dog, i keep telling her that you can't trust him, he's a liar, yadda yadda yadda, and it goes in one ear and out the other. But i'm always the first one she calls when he does something wrong. I'm always the one who has to pick up the pieces, put them back together, and wait for him to destroy it again. The story of my life.

It's lonely at the bottom

So classes started yesterday and it went okay i guess. I have chemistry, biology(for the 2nd time, that shit was hard), Spanish(hola amigos), Pyschology, and English. Yesterday i had all of them except Chemistry. As i figured, i recognized no one in my class, and did the whole "i'm doodling on my notebook so i look like i have something important to do" when in essense i was just trying not to look like i didn't have any friends. When i got to Biology, my friend Mike was there. We were in every class last year, and that is no lie. Because we entered in the Spring there weren't many classes to sign up in, so him and i basically signed uo for the same classes. He annoyed me sometimes, but he was cool to hang with, and we developed a friendship. We didn't see each other until class ended, but when we did, it was like "OMG, i'm so happy to see you blah blah blah." even though i didn't like seeing him last year, i was excited that we managed to find each other in the mass of 3 hundred people, and we vowed that we would pass Biology this semester.

After that small reunion i went to Psych. They have this new thing this year where the school addresses the classes with high failure rates, and provide services to students who need additonal help to pass the course. I'm thinking who fails Pysch. Is it that hard that people fail the course, maybe it is. So now i am all buggin because out of 5 classes 3 of them are high in failure rate. Needless to say this wont be an easy semester. So after all of this i have to go to work at 5 o'clock. I'm done with classes at 2, so i have baout 2 hours and 30 minutes to sleep, eat, do homework, try to have a social life(which is none at this moment), and still managed to make it to work on time. So i work Monday's, Tuesdays, and Thursday, from 5-9. I can't work any other days cause i need the rest, and study time. Last night i was the only one who showed up to work. And i have only been working there for two days. I was exhausted. Doing the register, cleaning the back, taking out the garbage, filling the ice machine, wrapping the meat, making the fries and chicken fingers, it was crazy. So 9 o'clock comes and i'm thinking, "okay i'm going home" not the case. They are staying open late tonight, and thus i have to stay. Sweeping, wiping, moping, stacking, crushing, scrubbing, anything they tell me to do. I'm like what the hell, when will i have to time to rest and sleep,and not physically burn out. The Assistant Manager must have noticed my tiring and sent me home.

I don't get out of there till 10,and it's pitch dark outside. I throw everything in my bookbag, including my drink, and start running, i mean i don't want to do is get raped in an alley and not being able to put up a fight, because of my exhausation from doing everyone else's job who didn't show up. As i'm running, i feel a trickle coming down my leg. Now i not a spontaneous pisser, i've never wet the bed, but the first thing that popped in my mind was "i am pissing on myself." Quickly i figure out that, no i'm not peeing on myself, but that my drink has spilt all in my bookbag, including my cell phone. The only form of communication i have with anyone, including my mother. So i am bugging. I try to turn it on, and it won't. When it does come on, the screen is so bright i can barely see, the picture is distorted, it's upside down, it has all this weird words on it. I am almost to tears. So After making it to my dorm, i know that A) i must find a phone to call my mom in the building B) i must find a nice soul who will let me use their phone C) use a payphone

A) I run downstairs to the guard, asking if i can use her phone. No, No, and then more No. She said it nicely though explaining that they can only use the phone for emergencies. Such as if the cuilding was burning down. I ask where there is a phone i can use. She doesn't know. I ask does she no anyone who does no. She says she doesn't know. But i should see if any RA's are in the building. It's going on 10:20, and i know my mom is bugging. So i run, no where near liquid, to the RA center. No one is there.

Totally Skipping plan B i go straight to C

C) There is a phone on the wall. I dial and there is this weird beeping noise. I hang up. running back to the guard, i ask her if there are payphone. She says there is one located across the street at the conveince store. I run to the convience store, still in my stupid uniform. To only get there an realize that i don't have any money on me. Great, the payphone was a bust. So i head back to my dorm, run upstairs grab my wallet..and wait...I remember that i have an RA on the floor. OF course she will let me use her cell phone.

B) I knock on her door and there is no answer. Figure i get a Ra who is never in her room. Out of Despereation i knock on a girl door who i thought seemed nice. I had seen her when we first moved in, and she was kind of Indie, red hair, this poka-dot ribbon in her hair and a vintage tee. My kind of friend. I hadn't seen her since, but i knew she only lived right next to the RA, and that her seeming nicenes, from appearance, would help a vintage gal like her out. Boy was i wrong. So i knock on the door, explain my sitaution, show my phone is on the frists, basically throwing myself at this girls feet to just let me use her phone, so i can tell me mom that i am okay, but that she will need to pick me up tomorrow because my phone isn't working. She stared at me like i was an alien. I mean i could have told her my dog just died and i think she may have went "well i don't know your dog, so fuck off." She was just like "um...well...my phone doesn't work in this building...um....so....i don't know.....yeah." i was so crushed. I thought she would totally cool and let me use her phone, and then out of that we would be cool. Not at all. I eventually just say "thanks" for nothing and turn the corner. As soon as i turn the corne, tears are on my face. I don't what to do. I can't get in touch with my mom, red head was not cool, and no will help me. College Life i tell you.

After that desparging attempt for help, i decide to go to the ATM, get money, head to the payphone. On the way, i saw an RA who i had met previously. She let me use her phone with no problem, then told me a way to get my cell to work, by taking the battery out for a while. I tell mom what happended and she said she will come this weekend to see whats up the phone. I head back to my room, take the battery out and 15 minutes later, i turn on my phone. The picture is still bright as hell, but i can call my mom. I am just defeated, tired, sick of being alone, hating work, hating my shcool, hating being in his room, hating having to watch people with their friends and me with with no one. I'm exhausted, nervous about my hard classes, overwhelmed, and trying to maintain my sanity among the craziness.

The clouds came tumbling down.

i' m an agnostic. Straight up and down, agnostic. I don't like organized religon and futhermore i dislike immensly bible-thumpers. I think it is uncalled for for people to wear there religon on their sleeve, and then pressure me about why i don't believe. I dislike hypocrits and that is why i am not religous. My mom on the other hand is. She just got into the whole thing about 10 years ago, and out of respect to her, my brother and i went to church with her. I have always felt misplaced there. Like we are all a bunch of sinners just sitting in some buildig hoping for redemption when we don't deserve it.

The only other time i went to church was when i was about 7, and i had a crush on the preacher who drove around in this big van recruiting kids from the neighborhood to join a chruch that was youth driven. My brother and cousin went first and even then i was like "i'm not going!" That was until i saw the preacher, and then it all changed. He was hott, i mean my standard of hot. He was tall, slim, wore glasses, but had an amazing face. After that i was like "where do i sign up". To join the church we had to have a one on one with the preacher. I was so excited. We went to the church and sat in the pupils. It was dim in there, light coming from the stained windows. We took a seat towards the front. My heart was racing, he was very respectable and went over giving myself to god(when the only thing i was thinking of was giving myself to him), it was surreal the two of us in an empty church hands on a bible lying to this preacher that i would give myself to god and this church. Yeah right? I began the best little church girl you eve did see. I was in the choir(can't sing), handed out panphlets (we just left about 100 on one car and booked) and attending bible study. Though i had an pretty good reading level, because of my age they stuck me with kids who i don't even think knew how to spell their name, so since i was always the first one to finish the assignment, i got to leave early. I would head up to the church (bible study was in the basement), and watch him prepar his sermon. I was infatuated with him. As with most things it must come to an end, i found out that he was married. And i decided to not be a member of the church

Now i'm not saying that my whole views developed from this experience, but somedays my mom ask me and my brother to go to church with her. It is the most awful experience ever. It's like a cult, everyone is enthralled by some dude speaking from his book, and yadda yadda yadda. But going to church i seem to get thoughts of just like corrupting the hott men in there or something. It's weird,i am a virgin, blah blah blah. But out of the two times my mom had asked me to go to church in the last 6 years, i am like a huntress, searching the crowd for anyone my age, and i just want to corrupt him. Be his seductress that makes him question all that he has known and had faith in. it's perverse really. But if i was a seductress it would be fun.

I'm Breaking Through

This journal thing is kind of fun. I feel like i'm breaking through to some stuff, by writing my thoughts down. Anyway

last night was technically my first day at work. But i was a pro at the register. Okay so i screwed up sometimes, and i may have been a little slow with the change. But i got my first tip last night, sold a lot of food, and talked to the customers as if we were long lost friends. I use to be an actor, okay so i was only in a couple of school plays, but it was something i pursued when i was 12, so i think i deserve the title of actor. When i am up at the register it is as if i am on stage, i am acting to each and every customer who comes up to the counter by the way they are. The dorky, nerdy type i will pull out the semi big words and book reference. The jocks i will challenge them to buy the larger meal, because it is more hearty, the ladies, i will smile and be kind of coy, and the older people i will put on my angelic face, smile, and use polite phrases. It is all a big act for me, and needless to say it went well and i killed it. My boss says that i will pull in a lot of money to the place, once again a reference to my face which people seem to like. They think that i am cute and the cuter the act i play the more people come in, buy food, sit down and eat instead of taking out, and hopefully the more tips i get, even though i don't think cashiers get tips. He said i did a good job, as he counted the money, so my first night went well i guess.

Classes start tomorrow(finally), and i'm excited to just get it started. Let's get this over with already, so test can start, A's will be presented to moi, breaks will come, i will get my apartment, car, summer will come, i'll be home for the summer, summer school, study abroad, NYU for a semester, more summer school, graduate in December, Philadelphia, hopefully med school. I've always been the person who pre-plans everything. It's sickening that i live by this daily planner called my life. I always feel that if i get to this point n my life then i will be happy, and i think that is why i set this plans for myself. To give me something to look foward too down the line, but it takes away from the spontenity which is life. Which could really just be depriving me of...something.

Punk

So...I don't have crushes on many people. I mean i'm very particular with the people who i like. I don't agree with women and men who get married when they are like 18-25, because they think that have found the one, when really they are just settling for what they believe is the best they can get. That's Bull. So when i do get a crush, it's always a major thing to me. I believe everyone has beauty, but we all see it different. I like smart boys, nice eyes, i concentrate more on personality once i meet them, but i like quirky boys. Point blank. Oh..But i have had a crush on 2 boys who didn't speak english. One i played footsies with in the cafeteria...Oh that 's a whole nother story and now i must now tell

So in the 7th grade there was a new student from Mexico his name was Freddy, and everyone thought he was hott, because of that reason i immediately dislike him. We lived in the same neighborhood and rode the same bus, and he was friends with a boy i knew, so we encountered each other a lot. So once again he didn't speak much english, and when we waited for the bus together it was just coy glances at one another. I don't know when we both started liking each other, but even though we never said anything to one another we always stood close to each other, sat across from each other on the bus, would walk near each other on the way to homeroom. It was so weird we never said anyting , but we would have this secret smile, hand touch, or just sitting near each other when it didn't require us to. We would be in class and he would stare at me, and then i would look at him and he would look away and vice versa. It was so weird. But anytime someone would comment on him, i would totally pretend like i dislike him.

So one day it was really cold outside and as a stipulation we waited inside the cafeteria instead of staying outside. We once again managed to grab seats next to one another. And i swear this was one of the most intimate things i have ever done with a boy. So my leg was shaking, and his was too, and someohow our legs got closer and closer until they were touching. our legs just kind of stayed in that position while we eached closer physically to one another. I mean we were inches away from each other, our heads were almost touching. I turned my head and our checks brushed up against one another. We remained like that, just like examing each others face, legs touching, it was so weird. I know i should use another word then weird but that what it was. But i never felt as safe as i did then. So then the bell rings, and i swear we are like the last people to get up. But crazy old me, made a quick exit out of the cafeteria while him and his friend left.

We remained in that weird kind of euphoric state for the rest of the year. Slight hand touching, wry smiles, and looking at one another from a distance. Then he moved back to Mexico. WTF.

So anyway this story is supposed to be about another boy, but i got distracted. In high school, i had a crush in a boy names lee, and yes we actually had conversations. He was a typically punk boy. I mean the description of punk was him. He dyed his hair 4 different colors, wore spikes, had piercings, and was vulgar. And for some reason straightlace me liked him. We meet in the 9th grade, he knew my brother. I knew of him, because in Middle school he was a prep but as soon as he entered high school he changed. For some reason we started talking on the bus (go figure) and a friendship emerged. He was totally nasty, talking about masturbation, his torture of squirrels and so on, but i think he was surprised that i didn't mind listening and even commenting on what he did. I swear he masturbated on the bus, just to see if i would freak out. I didn't. Well because i didn't look. He talked about South Park and did the Timmy voice, i talked about book and movies. And even though i thought our friendship was weird and that any moment he would stop talking to me, he always sat in the same spot and we always talked the whole way to his stop.

So after a while we both stop riding the bus in general, i'd see him in the hallway and he wouldn't ignore me. Then in the 11th grade we had a law class together. And though we didn't say much at first, we would be in groups together and i just liked him. I liked that he didn't care. I like that he chipped his tooth, and that he admitted using drugs from time to time, but warned me not to. And that liked South Park, and that he came to class everyday, except when he got arrested, but that he always skipped assemblies. I liked that he liked me. But unfortunately i have a record for boys i liking leaving, and eventually he either graduated or moved back to Connecticut, or is in jail somewhere.

I'm not one of those girls who like bad boys. I grew up in a family full of bad boys. I swear everyman in my family has either been to jail, or is on there way to being in jail. Not because they grew up in a bad neighborhood, or had a rotten childhood, we grew up in Westchester NY for christ sakes, but just because they like to be bad. But i liked lee and despite his vulgarity and unconventuality, i liked him. And though i have no idea where he is, i still kind of think of him and wonder if i will have someone who likes me just as i liked and vice versa. MF-er

Morning Routine

i've just noticed that i do not have a morning routine when it comes to the bathroom. I mean i do the usual, shower, brush teeth, ruffle hair into a manageable mess, get dress, and then top it off with my favorite hat. I swear this takes 30 minutes and then i am off. So as i was brushing my teeth, i noticed the girl in the corner who had brought a whole aresnal of creams, blushes, eye pookey things, and then another girl came in with almost the same thing. I went into the bathroom 15 minutes later after my routine, and she was still in their. WTF. So i don't really understand the concept of makeup. I have a pretty angelic face, i've been told that many times. I put on chap stick from time to time, and once my mom took me to one of those makeup people in the mall who fix your face and i came out looking like i was in a beauty pageant. My motto is less is more, and makeup to me conceals an ugly face. I've seen people without makeup and it is like the creature from the black lagoon has appeared. But in a society where beauty way out ways brains, the though crosses my mind. Should i have a morning beauty routine? Should i paint my face as soon as i wake up in the morning? Maybe it's what normal girls do? But then again i'm not really that normal.

Today the dump truck was extremely loud, and i was up at like 6 today. At 8 ish i went on the search for Khaki pants or even black pants and found neither. You have all these college stores, but none that sell khaki pants. So i'm wearing my Cords, and hopefully that will be acceptable for today. I then went to the bookstore, b/c i still don't have my psych book, one english book, and my chemistry and lab book. No one seems to know anything at the bookstore except staring around and looking like idiots as the customer basically looks for his or her own book. I don't understand how people get jobs at bookstores when the obviously know nothing about the books we are looking for.

I hate being short. Everyone calls you doll, sweetie, baby, and other extremely childish age names which 19 year old Beckett does not want to hear. I don't think you are taken seriously as an emerging adult when everyone assumes you are a child. I have to prove myself more and more just because i am a few inches shorter than everyone else. The real pain in my ass are the men who like short women, because i think they like feeling superior in size to us. They stand real close and you know they are thinking of ways they can be my Superman. Get the fuck away from me, your 5'7 ass is still short to me. I don't want to be taken care of. I don't need a man of interest to be a father figure. Perverts and Predators alike stay away. STAY AWAY. I am not 14, i do not want to meet you, I don't want the hook up, yes i know i'm shorter than you, No i DO NOT know how tall i am, making the snide comment "easier access" is neither cute, nor attractive, and if you call me baby again and your name is not Patrick Swazye then i will shove you in a corner.

Today will be another in day. I minus well enjoy the boredom now before classes start thursday. Hopefully someone(one of the two bookstores) will have my books by then

Do you want Green Pepper, Onion and Mushroom on That

Training was today and i think it went well. The boss looks like a stickler and doesn't smile much, and kept asking me how tall i am, quickly running through his head how much of a liability i may be if i reach for something. God you would think i wazs 3 feet tall or something. I was trained by i guess a guy who has been there a long time. He's personable though, seems to not take himself to seriously, and showed me how to work the register. There isn't that much to remember just the add ons are pretty confusing. And of course they want you to sell as much as you can to make a good profit for the night. I got my shirt, and company cup today. and on Thursday i will get my hat. Tomorrow night i guess is more training and hopefully with a bigger crowd.

There wasn't anyone there, and i feel they are struggling for business, case in point why i am able to write at 7 when i should be working. i work with two cooks who are boys, and i don't know if any girls other than the one i saw on Friday work their. Of course being the mild perfectionist, i took notes, and a menu with me to study over for tomorrow. By then i will have the menu down, and can handle the register like a pro. Tomorrow i will stuff my shoes, add some inches to me. I have to wear Khaki or black pants tomorrow, which of course is a problem because i am the only person in the history of the world who doesn't have khaki's or black pants in my apperal. It's real lax though, and of course money making Beckett is thinking of more ways to expand attention to the place. The more money i bring in for the company the more money i make, and thank god this isn't mcdonalds, burger king, or any other fast food place where i don't see much more growth other than them just adding the managers special.

For now i will enjoy my time chilling and spend some time going over the menu, and listening to music.

3 hours and counting

In less than 3 hours i have to go to work, and have a pleasant smile on my face as if the events just hours past did not occur. Oh what a pleasure.

stifled cries

My head is beeming from all the crying i have managed to do in the last half hour. My brother can literally make a day miserable. Like he was one of the kids who first found out that santa claus wasn't real and decides to tell everyone his new information despite hurtung their feelings. I've talked about money woes before, now the woes have turned into damnation. My mom has been cutting back on a lot of things just to send me to this school that i hate. She cut down on cable, stop spending money on the weekends, and to my brother dismay cut off his phone line(since he doesn't pay for it) who else gets to hear this junk but me, as he calls my cell and is yelling hysterically about the situation. I am like flabbergasted that he would call me and yell about some stupid shit as the phone when he knows my mom is going through hell paying for this room. books. rent. bills. his car insurance. the list is endless.

I on turn feel completely horrible for being such a burden. A horrible horrible burden who is causing the money problems for my mom, who is now looking for a second job. We can't get out of this contract for the room but it would be a $1000 cancellation fee for backingout of the contract, and thus i am stuck. I completely just hate myself sometimes. Like why can't i just be that smiling happy girl walking down the street, instead of this complete waste i have become, who manages to put my family through hell and the poor house just so i can attend school. And what is worse is that i have no one to lean on. Know one to even care about the crying girl in her room.

When i get really like this, i do think of cutting myself. I'm not going to lie. I don't think of cutting to kill myself. That's just too selfish, and i know my mother wouldn't survive my death. I contemplate cutting for release, i feel all these emotions balled up inside, and i can't release it. My cries are even controlled, sporadic burst of tears, uneven breath and holding back weeps. I tried to once, but i couldn't break the skin and in turn just spent the whole day contemplating trying again. I can never find a sharp enough point, and afraid of leaving scares, so i bang my wrist up against something instead.

I hate seeing my mom suffer, i just hate it, and my brother is a crazy bastard anyway, who still thinks my mom owes him something though he is 21 and doing absolutely nothing with his life. And i'm just like "if i could have done better last year and got some scholarships this year", or "met a friend who i could have shared a room with instead of having to get a single, not of choice but of circumstance." Then all this wouldn't be happening, and i wouldn't feel so sad.

Single Rooms

It has been day 2 since entering my new dorm. I slept pretty rough. I decided to keep the air condition on, even though i swear it wasn't working. There was a large noise coming somewhere from in my room, thinking it was the Ac i turned it off. Unbeknowst to me, it was my small minifridge that was crying all night. When i say it was crying i mean it was screeching like there was no tomorrow. I got so frustrated that out of anger i turned it off. Then 15minutes later i plugged it back in because i forgot that i had things in the freezer. The dump truck wasn't that loud, and it came around the same time i wake up anyway.

Living in Single dorms is much more isolated than if i lived in a place where there were more people who had roommates. Right off the back, it is apparent that those who reguest single rooms, like their privacy, don't want there space to be invaded, and thus aren't the easiest people to have conversations with. We just kind of pass each other buy, if you ever see them. I mainly hear door closing, muffled voices, and such. When i go to the bathroom, i get starteled because i have never seen these faces before, and if they didn't live in this dorm, it wouldn't know

I woke up extremely early and browsed through some blogs. What is wrong with people. I mean out of the 20 blogs i browse through in a sitting, 1 of them is worth actually reading. Most of the blogs i get are business advicating there work. Then you have the foreign ones, which i think may be worth reading if i knew the language. The Depressed teen ones, where my life sucks blah blah blah. I mean you should see the blog first of all.It probably takes a lot of work to design a background, just to rant about how you are so dark and lonely, and the world is an evil place. I wanted to kill myself, because for some reason those blogs don't let you browse to any other blog unless you click on those pop up links. People are disappointing.

I start my job today. I'm not really nervous, but just a little ansty to see what it's going to be like. I've never worked before. Yes, i manage to escape getting a job for the past 19 years and now my reign has ended. I just needed the money though, and not getting a job wasn't an option. I think they make cheese steaks and burgers, and i work from 5 to 9, which i four hours out of my day that i can spare.

This is not felicity.

There are many misconception about college, which is why i think shows that try to document college life end up failing(even though the show Undeclared was an awesome show). I remember when felicty came out. I was in the 6th or 7th grade, and i thought "that is how i want college to be". I wanted to be the curly head, felicity who was embarking on this journey of college. What a Jip.

From my experiences college has not been like that. I swear i must be the only person in the world incapable of making a friend in college. If i wasn't such a loner, i may have jumped out of the window a year back. For me ever since i was younger i had visions of what college would be like. And of course they haven't panned out that way.I Feel that is more sad than they way they have turned out, just the fact that my expectations of these experiences in general have not been good.

It all stems from me not being the person i figured i would be at 19. I know 19, not an age where i am suppose to have it all figured out, but i thought at least i would have had experiences that would have me saying "well, won't do that again". Instead i feel caged in my own fear of rejection from my peers. As with the hall situation, i figure from the moment i step into a room, i will be labeled the misfit, outsider, quiet girl, who has no friends. And before anyone can make those preceptions about me, i confirm them by hiding in a corner, with a lost puppy look on my face.

Plus, this must just be on televison, because i have never had a male RA. I mean i see male RA's but they do not live on the hall with us. And most of them do not look as hott as Scott Foley. The even mere mention of Scott Foley being hott should give you a visually on the male Ra's i have encountered. My only friend in college did so horrible last semester i think he may have left school, or at least been booted. I mean he failed Math, Biology, and i think English. I hope this year is good.

Hall Meetings.

Why i am i a scared piece of shit. If i had someone here who was a friend and who i could talk to while the RA's drown on about whatever, then mayvbe i wouldn't have ditched the Building meeting. The last thing i want to do is be in a place with bunch of people who seem to quickly attach themselves to a closest pleasant face they see. I am shoved in the corner looking quite pathetic and meek, and quiet. So instead of staying, i gave them the slip. Pretending like i had a phone call and walking away checking behind me to see if any one spotted my move. And if by anyone i mean my RA who caught me the first time i tried to escape unsuccessfully.

I'm just not good with those things. Introducing ourselves and pretending like we are going to be a happy lively family in a community of kids who will most likey drink, party and not give a damn about the rules. I hear doors they a) must be back b) other people who ditched the meeting. Especially why should i be there, when i am looking for an apartment tomorrow(which would solve my money problems and keep my mom out of the poor house). Am i a coward, maybe. But a coward who is watching the simpsons right now then at the building meeting. Who has a building meeting anyway? When does a whole building have a meeting?

Oh...and i saw the boy i had a crush on last year at the meeting. Which made me want to leave even more. i seem to stick out like a sore thumb because of my height(short) and my ever more adolescent looks. So the thought of me having to say my name and major and blah blah blah made me not a very happy camper. He is so cute though, and at least i know he lives in one of these buildings. Anyway...i must get better at this...Meeting people without my reservations about them being negative. I need friends, i mean everyone needs friends. Right?

Down the yellow brick road

So i'm heading to school tomorrow. This last 2 days have been a bummer. My Tuition as i thought was hella expensive and we honestly don't know if we can afford and by we i mean my mom. It's like compete de-ja vu. The exact thing happend last year and i ended up missing a semester of school. I mean now i am home, and at a school that is so cheap it ridiculous and yet she still can't afford it. Granted i didn't get a job this summer though i applied to like 7. I got a job yesterday at school and i start monday, but my mom is saying the single bedroomi got is what is making my bill so high. It's so frustrating, how the only thing i want to do is go to school, i want nothing else but to finish and get my degree, and it seems so out of reach. Like i just want an education, i want to learn and be in school and have friends, and i can't even get that. I can't even just get it over with and it's so tiring on me. And on my mom, who all "i have to get a second job" yadda yadda yadda, i still haven't gotten all of my books and...my head is spinning, and i honestly don't know whats going to happen. i have no idea what is going to happen and it's bitch. Sorry no irreverrent comments today, life is happening and i'm having a down day.

New Beginnings

Once i recover from this massive headache u have from spending the whole day moving into my dorm room (which is quite a story in itself) i will right a good entry. My head is just pounding though from the day. It was extremely hot, i swear it was like 100 degrees, and even though i am a sophmore the RA's still kind of treat you like this is your first time there. There is a security guard in front of each hall and i swear mine is either mentally slow or has been smoking weed the whole day. Therefore his name will be Waldo, because he looks like a Waldo. Since i am on a role i guess i should continue.

We got to my school at 10, went to the deferrment office and almost gagged at the cost of my tuition this year. I mean it was ghastly. My mom almost fanted i swear, with the mixture of heat and an 800 dollar increase on tuition she nearly fanted. As we picked our jaws off of the floor, i quickly saw that i needed a job. Driving down the street we saw a sandwich shop, and within the 15minutes i stepped in and the quick exit, i became a new employee of a sandwich shop.

After that small success in such a short period of time, we went to the bookstore. I love bookstores and even the people who work in bookstores, but the idiot who was helping me get my books probably couldn't tell his asshole from his mouth. Out of the 5 classes i have we got books for only two of them and not even all the book for those class. I got 3 books which cost my mom $229, and once again the i'm going to faint look came over her face.

Then we ventured to the dorm, which may quite possibly be the ugliest dorms on campus. I have a patio, but there was so many cracked up things in the room, that i quickly began to panick. The lights are almost falling off the ceiling, the walls are chipped, the ac is making a sound like a dying animal, and it's right in front of the garbage pickup. So 3x a week i wil be awoken by the lovely sounds of garbage truck as it picks up the daily garbage from it's residence. And when i mean i am right in front, i mean i could probably wave to the man driving the truck seeing that i am on the 2nd floor.

Other than that, i am pretty excited. Though i am not looking forward to biology or chemistry, i am looking forward to making good grades, maybe getting an apartment, making money on the side, and meeting friends. And my anxiety has calmed down since the whole The woes of being an adult. I admit i have anxiety attacks. I've had them since the 11th grade, when i was kind of being stalked by a kid in special ed. So anyway...ever since then my anxiety kicks in when something in my control goes array. But now whenever that happens, i quickly think of Philadelphia and know that all of this is to get to Phliiy, become a doctor, and get out of this hell whole.

I move in completely on Sunday. I mean me physically, all my stuff is there just without me. Which means i will be wearing the same clothes for the next 2 days, because well i have no clothes.

The Woes of becoming an ADULT

That what i feel like today, and for the impending days as college approaches. A big, crying(on the inside anyway, i ain't no chump), whining baby, and this is my second year in school.

I don't know what it is, when i was younger all i wanted to do was be away from my family. I swear i must have peaked at 12, because i was out almost everyday, i had a million friends, i had a million crushes, and the last thing i wanted to do was be near my family. THE LAST THING. of course ever since the move when i was 13 to this hell whole, i dread moving away from my mom. Like big, attached baby, i wish i could stay home forever and do nothing, except be here.

I'm pouting right now becasue in less than 2 weeks i will be in school. in my small windowless, dorm, with materalistic people, who would rather drink than find some other source of a time. I will be in my room, alone, watching countless hours of television whilst i attempt to get back to New York by working my ass off in my classses. The real clincher is...I only go to school 90 minutes away. YES 90 MINUTES.

All these doubts run into my head about maybe i should have went to school closer to home, which is about 45 minutes away. I could get a job here, and still be able to go to school, and still be able to live at home, and be with my mom (and maybe my brother). But those of course are just excuses to make my doubts seem rational. I mean i didn't have a horrible time last semester, other than the roommate thing, which i will write down, i promise.But sometimes i wish i could just be a kid forever and stay at home, and be with my mom, and not have to worry about bills, and med school, and all these things which make me just want to revert back to a time of no worries.

Of course this wouldn't even be an issure if i had a... CAR.

Maybe thats just another excuse also.
Fuck it

Every one possess beauty?

Beautiful People. Net is the Devils Span and coming from someone who doesn't believe in the Devil, thats saying a lot.

So i was watching the view this morning (before you give that scrunchy face as to why a 19 year old girl would watch a show with 5 women who clearly depise each other and just may have a breakdown before the show ends, or at least before Star Jones eats them, let me explain). I only watch Hot Topics, which just covers some news things for about 15minutes. I only like listening to the perspctives of Joy and Meredith. Joy who seems firmly liberal and Meredith who finds a clear middle ground, and clearly is a motherly figure. I mean when me and my brother were younger (and still now) we'd always have these competitions to see who was better. If somehow it came out that we were both equally good at that particular thing, we would go to our mom for the tie breaker. She would always reply with

Mom: You both are good at it, and i don't choose favorites or sides.

Thats how Meredith is, she never really gives an opinion she just speaks on both sides with a small slant to one of them. So anyway they were talking about something that happened on yesterdays show which i missed because of my 15 minute rule with the view. Some dudes have created a site, strictly for Beautiful People. What you do is you go sign up for the site, post your picture, and for three days the people who have already been accepted into the website critique your physical appearance. If you are Beautiful enough, you are now a member of the site and i guess you can mingle with Beautiful people. WTF.

I mean they were serious douches(who of course weren't that pretty themeselves) coming on the show(they replayed the clip b/c people were so pissed), profiting off of America's obssession with looks. It's horrid that we have to live up to this unreasonable standard of beauty which clearly is shoved in our face over and over again. Pretty people get paid more, pretty people deserve a happy life, pretty people marry other pretty people, who have pretty kids, and pretty dogs, in their pretty house. While the rest of us normal folks, can live our normal lives, and be content with our misfortune. Or we can end up on MTV with some weird eating disorder, drug addiction, a plastic surgery addiction which is reaplyed weekly on True Life.

I mean the other day i was going to Best Buy and as i got out of the car i saw some girl who was like 7. She clearly had a tan, was wearing a pink hat, a pink tube top, and some bell bottoms. When i was seven i was wearing t shirts and jeans. It's horrible. I don't even know wether to be mad at the men who made the site or mad at people for the obssession of enhanced beauty and youth which gave the men the incentive to create the site.

Who knows?

The Cucumber Story

So apparently everyone is talking about sex offenders now. The teacher in Florida who slept with a 14 year old is pleading insanity(and says she is to pretty to go to jail. WTF). Oprah did a show today about sex offenders, i recently found out that some kid i went to school with was molesting little boys. I feel all icky and nasty and i haven't even gotten to the cucumber story yet.

So i was watching Sundance Channel yesterday and there was a story of three women who decided to put the law in their hands when their niece was getting molested by her stepfather. The man had been to jail previously for sexually molesting the girl. And when he got out of jail, of course the mother took him back. Then the little girl started saying that her stepfather was frech kissing her. The grandma, aunt, and mother of the little girl were pissed. They went to his house, over took him, tied him up, shaved off all his head. After that the plunged a cucumber in his anus, repeatedly. Yes Folks it was a Cucumber a pretty large one at that. After that the put him in the truck. Took him to the nearest gas station, completely naked and dropped him off laughing into the sunset.

Needless to say they didn't think the man would call the police. Oh but he did, and fifteen minutes later they were picked up for kidnapping and rape. After plea bargaining out, they have to register as a sex offender, attend sexual predator classes, the girl and her brother were put into foster care, and the three women are not allowed to see each other. What a crazy, crazy tale.

I had a friend who was molested by her father, and like 3 brothers. She was crazy, she wanted to be a model, and somehow we became friends. Her story was like a lifetime movie, and i remember she got mad at me once b/c it was right around christmas, and she was talking about how she wished she could spend it with her family. I replied that why would you want to spend the holidays with a family of people who molested you. And she got real angry because "they're my family". She moved a year later. Wonder what happend to her?