Throw your Inhibition out the door

Happy Halloween

I don't care how old you are, this is always the best holiday ever. Thanksgiving is always a little crazy because of family, and Christmas just reminds you that the older you get the more a) presents you stop getting b) money you end up spending.

Not Halloween. Somethings in the air about Halloween. There was a show called Dead Like Me(damn you bastards at Showtime for cancelling a truly brillant show, only to replace it with a show with that Hank Azario(forgive the spelling) who is a shrink who needs a shrink. Shame) about grim reapers who are kind of undead. People can see them,interact with them just as if they were alive, but technically they reap souls of people who are going to the afterlife. Now they didn't look like themselves. They each had a different look from who they were in their past lives, so as not to freak out people who may have known them in past lives "hey didn't just die?" that would be kind of awkward. The only time they looked like their normal selves to other people was on Halloween. So since George (the main character who was recently deceased) was reaping, or walking around town, as with the other reapers, they dressed up so no one would recognize them.

Thats what i feel everyday is like. That halloween is the only time in which are true faces are really shown. The rest of the days we are actually hiding behind this facade of who we are. We hide behind our friends, our family, our school, our jobs. We are walking masks hiding from the very thing we are. Halloween is the only day our true selves take shape. That we allow us selves to be seen. That the mask slowly fade away and all you have left is the person you are.

Something about this day, makes people throw their inhibitions out the window, down the street, far away from them. As if all that takes place on this day of debauchery will not matter when we wake up to a new day, a new month, of our lives.

Today it was like waking up on the wrong side of the bed. I woke up to a computer that wouldn't work, alarm that didn't go off, a door that would not open, and toe that i kept stubbing, and a leg that was cramped. Then to only get to History, recieve a bad grade on my European History paper Rough Draft, go to Spanish where my head was thinking about the TA and his ability to grade papers, and then Chemistry where he kept us way past 11. So i have decided to kick my downfall of a day in the ass, and lock my self in my room. Burrito, Cheesecake, Magazine, and a Lollipop, i am safely in my domain.

So last week i wish i could say that i was:

kidnapped by an extrodinarily handsome man, who took me to Spain or something, and i had endless days of fun.

or

that i saved a bunch of animals in a burning building, becoming a local hero, and earning a key to the city

or

that i was recruited by the CIA to become a operative,where i went to Russia for the last couple of days...i would disclose the extent of my mission, but then someone may have to get hurt, so i'll reframe

But in reality, it is just my procrastination that has caught up with me. I am a master procrastinator. When i should be doing something, i am doing something else totally unrelated to it. But with the end of the semester drawing near. Holidays coming fast, and more things to study for them i don't know what, plain exhaustation, frustration, and anxiety is what kept me from writing.

I don't think i thought about how quickly undergraduate studies would go by. I imagined four years would drag on as it did in highschool. Not the case. Before i knew it October smacked me in the face, then came Break, and now we are registering for classes in a week or two. I have more test that i can imagine, papers that i need to finish, stuff i should be studying for, and my head feels like it may expload at any moment, or that i will cry at the drop of a dime. When i do get stressed, i ramble. Like my thoughts come out in this frantic jumble of words. Like when i was deciding to change my major, and i pretty much rambled my anxieties to a complete stranger, who ask me how he could help me.

These last couple of days, i have been wandering aimlessly around campus, feeling like i have no direction. Freshman are killing me because they seemed like processed machines who have been sent to me to rub in my face that i am not good at math. My crush on Art boy is wanning, because well it's lack of progression, my dad stopped calling which made my mom do the "i told you so", and i was just plan tired. Of it all. I just needed to get away from it all. And clear my head. Even if clearing my head meant watching I love the 80's and horror movies, i just needed to be unaffected by anything.

Today is my Grandma's b-day, but since i have school, and my mom has work, we could only go this weekend to visit her. My grandma lives about four hours away, in a nice quaint little town. She moved their after we moved from Westchester. She was born there, and i guess was just tired of the business that is Tri-County. She lives near the water, so when we go visit her the first place i want to go is where the water is.

So i may have had alternative reasons to visit her. In August my grandma called my mom, rather excited, because she had found 19 pictures of me. For some reason as a child i took a lot of pictures or people took a lot of pictures of me. To say i was a camera whore would be an understatement. You know that saying that everyone is connected by 6 people or something, well i bet if you look hard enough somewhere in your many photos will be a picture of me of my smiling face. Thats how much of a camera person i was(which i weird now cause i rarely take photos). But when we moved, we left some things with grandma, assuming that we would drive up their when we got settle in our new house and get them. But we got into the accident which prevented us from getting some of our stuff, and by the time we were well enough to go see her, her garage(where she keeps everything) was full of things, that would take days to sort through(it's like a museum in there).

So hearing that she had found some pictures of me, was what drove me to really wanting to go visit, and because i love her. Ijust like seeing pictures of myself when i was the happiest, like a picture tells a thousands words. Well they also bring forth a thousand emotions. So when we got their, i snooped around, finding nothing, and then my mom and i went down into the city. It was gorgeous, i never wanted to leave. I can't even explain it in words. Just eing near the ocean, the wind blowing, brings so much peace to a trouble soul, and i felt safe there. Like the infinite water would never leave my side. Eventually we had to leave, picking up grandma from work and returning to her house.

Now i don't know if my grandma meant she had 19 pictures of me, or 19 pictures and 1 of them of me. Needless to say when she actually showed me the pictures, 18 of them were of my cousin christopher, standing aroung doing the "i'm bored face" and 1 of me. I was a little disappointed, but the weekend wasn't about my pictures, so i smiled, sayed thank you, and then we hung around watching the Food network(my grandma works at a backery). Then my Uncle came over...CRAP.

My uncle is married to probably the most horrible woman in the world. They were high school sweet hearts and when he went to the army they got married, they produced two of satans spawn, Michelle and Amanda. When we were younger they were nice, jolly people. Somewhere along the lines they thought they were god's gift to the world because they live in a nice house, and treated the rest of the family, like second hand citizens. Now my grandma thought me and my mom were kidding about their snobbiness, until she moved closer to them, and was faced with the wraith of their evilness. One time, when we were celbrating my grandma's b-day at their house, she said that me and Morg were rude, because of our cold demeanor to her, she also served food that a starving dog wouldn't eat...i think she liked when she found my chewed up gum under her table.

This natural tendency to dislike his wife and kids, make me to a point dislike him. Like how could a nice man, possibly spawn and marry that evil lady, and then have kids with her. He one of those "hoilday" uncles, you only see him on the holidays, and to make up for not seeing you he gives you money. Me and Morg rack up the big bucks when he's around. So when i heard he was coming with his new girlfriend i retreated to the room. Normally i would totally be appalled that he was cheating on his wife and that he has a girlfriend. But i don' think they've slept in the same bed since 91', and she is so evil i wouldn't blame him. But that didn't mean i wanted to see his new girlfriend, because generally i don't like people the first time i meet them(more on that later). When i heard them come in, i pretended like i was writing a paper or something, just to look too busy that i couldn't stay out in the living room and chat.

He came into the room, got me talking about what i plan to do in the future. And then gave me a 20, which is always nice(never said he gave a lot of money, but any is okay with me). Then like i was his daughter, he sat me down and talked about his marital situation. I kind of spaced on then, nodding my head, saying a few words, but mainly thinking about what CD i was going to buy. So after that long explanation he concluded with "since i'm not living with my wife anymore, i have meet someone really special to me, and i would like for you to meet her."

I was polite, said hey, cracked a joke or too, but left before i could say anything stupid. as i was leaving he gave me 20 more dollars...like me meeting her was a chore or something.

All in all, it was a good weekend. Today kind of blew it, but what can i say. It's halloween.

Oh...my classes for next semester look worse then this semester. Apparently mmy major change, is not so major when it comes to math, which i still have to take. What am i going to do?

Happy Halloween. and if today was a day that our true selves are going to be seen, then i would be a ballerina. Delicate, light on her feet, gracious, but whose movement posses so much strength and control. Their is almost a quiet strength about them, the way i'd like to be and be seen.

"Tsk Tsk Where have you been"

So, after a pretty hectic couple of days i have managed to post. Thank God, i wanted to write in this thing so bad. I came to the computer so many times, to write something, and was yet pulled away by homework, a phonecall, or just plan tiredness.

My grandma's B-day is tomorrow, so my mom and i drove two hours to spend the day with her.

I meet my uncle's new girlfriend, though technically he is still married. AWKWARD.

Some how with my amazing talents, i managed to go visit my grandma with only 33 dollars in my pocket, and walked away with a whopping 86 dollars, mainly from my uncle.

Glad to learn that i am considered the "bookworm" in the family, and am paraded around new people like a prized ham.

I wrote a post last night, but due to my grandma still not understanding what the "internet" is it was deleted.

This is how the conversation went
Me: grandma, i'm about to use the internet, so the you can't use the phone for a while
Grandma: is something wrong with my phone
Me: no it's just that when i go on the computer i have to use your line
Grandma: Oh your using the IN-TE_NET
Me: [blank stare] the internet Yes, the In-Te-Net, probably not.

So i grab the phone to kind of explain it to her
Me: so when i'm on line, don't pick up the phone or i'll lose the connection
Grandma: Don't pick it up
Me: You-no-pick-up-phone
She grabs the phone and picks the reciever up
Me: Yeah see what you just did, do the opposite of that.
Grandma: Okay

So when my Uncle came over, and i was called out to meet his new girlfriend, i noticed that the phone had been moved to my grandma's side. I was trying to be polite, but all i could think of was "damn, i didn't save the entry(it wasn't that long, i had just started it but still), next thing you know "bam picks up the phone" and entry is in Entry heaven.

I will return to my normally scheduled post later. I've been a dirty dirty slacker i know. I hope you forgive me. Until then since i am so tired. I will list some small facts about this week that i may not be able to cover in my post tomorrow, or later on tonight, because the post could be really long.

Moments Beckett Amelia Hughes is not to proud of doing these past couple of days
1)watched Girl Interrupted about 5 times, cried 3 times
2) Fallen in Love with Gavin Degraw all over again.
3) Mike was talking about Gaving Degraw, and like an Excited school girl said rather loudly "God i would totaly bone him", while we were in Bio Lab. AWKWARD.
4) Someone stuffed toilet paper in one of the toilets, and as a way of trying to dislodge it i decieded to flush it, which then made the toilet overflow. Looking around to make sure no one was there, i ran like a mad woman.
5) Spent 5 dollars on a magazine to look at the cool pictures.
6) when my advisor asked me if i liked math(since i signed up for mainly math classes for next semester, more on that later) i said " hell no, but i have no choice do i?"
7) Was in line about to buy a cheesecake with my mom, and blurted out "it's looks good enough to bone". My mom thought it was funny, the old people behind me didn't.
8)avoided looking Justin in the eyes, while he walked me to my class(his dorm is right next to my classroom, it was just out of convience).
9) did not go to Movie Night, convincing myself that i had study to do
10) did not study for Spanish Exam that night
11) watched i love the 80's on VH1 and laughed my ass off.
12) called my Spanish teacher by the wrong name.
13) neglected to write in blog, for 5 days. Lo Siento.

Well that's all for now. I have so much homework to do, and have no idea where to start. I mean with all these Horror Movies on, what is a girl to do.

I have no clue

When i was younger, i ice skated. I wasn't really good at it, but something about being on the ice was refreshing.

Our school use to have trips to the ice skating rink in Larchmont. It was a town away from where i lived, but the anticipation of the ride, made my heart beat faster than anything. My mom bought ice skates, and needless to say i was the only 4th grader who brought there own skates to the rink.

In the 4th grade there are always these Student Teachers. They are about 20-25, and don't really do much. You can ask them general questions about homework, the help with lunch time, and recess, but other than that, they were kind of these off limits creatures we stared at from a distance. Our Student Teacher was a girl named Stephanie, who had a lisp but was nice. There were some other Ta's who were nice, but really weren't memorable, except for one. His name was...i don't know it was the fourth grade....so i'll just call him Mitchell. He was the Ta for another 4th grade class but that didn't stop the rest of us from pawning over him.

He was tall, had brown/blond hair, and was built like a football player. He reminded of the terminator. It seems so weird now, how boy crazed 4th graders were. To say the girls weren't throwing themselves at him, would be an understatement. My friend Tara and I, tried to brush him off as just some Ta, though we were secretly interested as much as the next person. I guess because technically he was like the first man, we had ever been around. I mean, teachers are one things, family members are another, but when you have a "man" around crazed girls it's a little exciting.

I was always the runt. The smallest out of the pack, the sometimes quiet one, but at the age i did have spunk, and wasn't afraid or intimidated. So while the rest of the girls tittered around simple flirting, pretending like they hurt themselves on the playground so he would rush to their aid. I completely ignored him. I try to rationalize him, and put in prospective that he was like 20 and we were like 10.

So on this particular day, the 4th graders and all the Ta's and Teachers went to the trip to the ice skating rink. New Rochelle and Larchment are basically a 30 minute bus ride, so we got there pretty quickly. Stepping on the ice, i was face with the prospect that skating on ground and skating on ice are two different things, and though i managed to not completely hurt myself while skating, it was still challenging. I had though. Halfway through the trip Allison(the popular girl in our grade and surprisingly a friend) came up to me and told me that the Hot Ta, was helping all the girls who got "hurt" during the skating. So as soon as word got around, it was like a wave, and about 15 girls skate by him and fall. Quite funy from my perspective

As i was skating i hadn't notice that my laces had come undone. Alison had skated around again, while me and Tara were up against the wall talking.

Al: Your laces are undone
Me: So i'll just tie them later
Al: I say you should fall, and have Hot Ta help you
Tara: Yeah, you could do that.
Me: No, i'm okay really, i'll just tie them later
Al: Look i'll go get him and then...

So she skates off, and tells him about my laces problem. So like watching the Terminator on skates, he glided over to where i was standing, and where a bunch of girls had crowded.

Terminator: Your laces are untied
Me: Yeah, i can do it later though
Terminator: You could break your ankle, if they aren't tied tight. Come on i'll tie them right.

So I, along with the other girls, thought he was just going to walk me over. Nope, to the amazement and envy of every pre-adolescent girl, he carried me like a big baby. I mean scoped me up like i was a doll baby. You should have seen the faces, it happened so fast, that i didn't know what had taken place. I was carried in a way so while he was skating to the box, i looked back on my friends who were a gasp, and a bunch of other girls who crowded around asking what had happened.

While he was tying my skates, and making small conversation, i kept staring at my friends, who were glaring by now. He didn't say much, just kept asking me if my ankle was okay, and if the skates were tight enough. After a mumbled yes, i was allowed to leave and skate on the ice. Returning to girls who were asking me a million questions about what had happen, and why he picked me up. But behind his terminator demeanor and magnetic power of attracting 12 year old years, i saw that in the end he was just some dude. Probably with his own faults, and goodness, but in the end just some dude tying a girls skates. Though when word got around it ended with

"Beckett fainted on the ice, and the hot Ta came to her rescue, holding her until she awoke".Complete bull. But in someway they had idolized him, put him on a pedestal, when in general he was just helping a little girl out.

I see how common it is for students to be attracted to their teachers. Maybe it's this thrill of him/her taking interest in a student. He/she could just be attractive, whatever the case is people are attracted to the things that are suppose to be off limit.

About 2 weeks ago we got a sub teacher for our chemistry class, for about 2 days. I'm sure i must have written about it somewhere, and our TA was basically throwing herself at him, just as the girls on ice were. I mean she wore her black little skirt, and revealing shirt and was glowing like no tomorrow. At this age, though there is still the "no no" of dating a professor, it's actually possible, espically if you are a TA. Rumor(damn rumors) have it that he has dated Ta's before, maybe she knew that.

So This monday he took over the class again, but the glowing, giddiness of her demeanor was replaced. It was a look like "he isn't all that he's cracked up to be". Maybe they slept together, maybe he totally rejected her, maybe her image of him was replaced by the reality, needless to say there was a familarity between them when the glanced at each other, but something else lingered. Something like learning Santa Claus doesn't exist. Like the Easter Bunny is just some stupid dude in a suit.

Registration is days away. Where we sit with an advisor who doesn't give a crap about our future, but who tells us what classes we should take. I'm kind of bugged out. As stated before i have kind of realized that i'm going to be an adult. I mean a real adult, and it freaks the hell out of me. Like before i know it, i will moving and going to school far away, and have to start a life for myself, without the watchful eyes of mom, or the Ra's or whoever other adult figure there is.

I Beckett Amelia, who still sleeps with a stuff animal, gets a little scared when it's thunders, who has to be reminded to wear a coat out when it is cold, who somehow cannot make a decent cup of noodles without the weird funny taste, am going to be an adult. I don't even know how to cook, i can't live off of peanut butter and jelly for the rest of my life, or keep buying subway sandwiches. Or eating life cereal as my lunch.

I who does not have her license, has a crush on a boy who i have not garnered the nerve to talk to yet, and who still gets excited about Halloween, will have to make a life for myself. I have no idea where i want to live, or go to school. I have to get an apartment, and maybe a dog or a cat. I have to pay bills. It seemed like yesterday i was skating on the ice, that i thought things would last forever, and that adulthood would be fun.

Not the case, i have in my hands this infinite possiblity. Each one bugging me out. I don't want to make the same mistake. Of choosing a place that i will end up dreading. Of not being happy, of giving up and returning to this place. What will i do? Where will i go? How will it work out? Pittsburgh? Boston? Philadelphia? NYC? Trenton? Volvo? Jeep? Toyota?

These are the times, when i wish it was the day on the ice. That someone would come up to me, hold my hand and tell me it'll be okay, now go back out there are skate. Cause i can't live life with laces untied, it's dangerous and you can get hurt.

Daddy's Girl

So my dad has been calling with more frequency.

I spent 45 minutes talking to him on Friday. I hate to prematurely say that a change is coming about, and maybe he is actually taking a paternal role in our relationship, instead of the friend one...but needless to say it's a little strange.

He said he was proud of me.
He said that his only hope for me is that i am completely happy with my life.
And that the happiest times of his life were when we were all together.
That he knew he messed up, and wasn't there...but that we have a lifetime more of catching up.
All he wants is for me to be happy.

I had to say i was totally touched by the whole thing. And though i'm not use to getting all these phone calls from him, i'm happy that he is taking an interest, and that he is proud of me. I realize that i don't say "I love you" first, in conversations. Even with my mom, i do the whole "i love you too". Like saying the words are so hard. Love. For little words that can drive you completely insane. I have to get use to saying it more. I have get use to a lot of things more.

I look at my brother and see how he is wasting his life away. He is so busy partying it away, that it is quickly passing him by. I just realized today that i will be 20 in march. ME 20? And this idea that i am watching from the sidelines is scary, that before i know it, i will be the weird old lady with 100 cats and a bottle of whishey in my dresser, wondering what the hell happen.

I don't want to be that lady, thinking of would of, could of, should of. In the end, don't we all just be happy. I mean whatever that is to us...and though it's creeping up on me slowly, i can't wait to be in that place, where can truly say that i am happy. Of course i have to make the first steps. The hardest ones to make.

Yesterday i arrived promptly at the film thing at 9:00. The producer called on Thursday b/c i had not let him know if i could make it to the set, so instead of it being at 8, it was at 9. Hardest thing i had to do was roll out of bed, and make my way down on the other side of campus to decorate for a movie that everyone agrees is really bad. But my word is bond, and though New Jersey and Boston have stopped coming, i go to help out anyway.

Art Director is a perfectionist. A serious perfectionist. I know that they have no idea what to do with the weird Pre-med girl who has no idea about the production of movies, so i think they give me stupid jobs on purpose so i'm not in the way. 2 weeks ago i was taking pictures for continiuty, needless to say i'm not a photographer and that job is no longer mine. This week i was the Febreeze girl, and i sprayed the hell out of that place until it was smelling like roses. Art Director brought all of her personal things for the set. I mean we are using her couch, bed, sheets, tables, lamps, posters...you name it, we're using it, which is probably why she is so patricular about where everything goes. She brought in this old timey typewriter that she said she bought for $2 at some garage sale. But i notice people always downgrade the price of something really cool, so they don't look pretentious. The thing was like the first typerwriter ever it was so old. It came in the cool little case, with the metal keys. I was drawn to it instantly.

This shoot was different b/c we weren't shooting in the smelly studio, so we had to bring all the materials for the office scene, and the media scene to the Square(main part of campus, food, theatre, bookstore). Art Director was staying behind to set up for the bedroom scene. I didn't know what to do, she kept saying i could go with them, i kept saying i rather stay. The yo yo conversation continued, and i ending up staying. The set did look nice after...well i didn't do anywork. She told me where she wanted things to go, and then i put them there, and then she would fix what i had just done.

Art Director: I'm a perfectionist
Me: Really?

We roamed the halls finding stuff we could use to brighten up the set, and she mentioned that the Director and her were talking about me being a biology major

Art Director: Yeah Kyle(director) didn't know you were pre-med
Me: what do you mean
Art Director: well we were talking, and he thought you were some media art student
Me:[they were talking about me?] Yeah...i do what i can to help out here, but i can only stay for so long before i have to hit the books[or flip the remote on the tv, Whatever]
Art Director: It's a very honorable career
Me:[I guess] takes a lot of har work.

So i still don't say much to them. I laugh at their jokes, comment once in a while, and then i pick a corner to sit in while they are doing the real work and read. They keep wanting to read my stuff, but i don't know that them that well to give me work over to them, so they can massacre it and making it crappy. No thanks.

Walking down the hall we were immersed in all this art from students and famous people. She keep talking about it as if i was stupid, and new nothing about art. I nodded my head, and almost to an extent played stupid, so that awkward silence wouldn't be there. The producer came back to tell me that we were starting to shoot in a new location and to meet them up there, apparently the typewriter was going to be used in the shot, so i was more than eager to carry it the whole 15minute walk to the square. About half way there, the weight of the thing killed me. I nearly dropped it like 5 times. And then when i got there, hands extremely red and sore from my futile attempt at being he-man and running with the damn thing, i was more than disappointed when it wasn't even used in the set, and spent the rest of the day massaging my hands.

Watching the actors is like watching a really bad lifetime movie, except i can't find the controller and am pulling my hair out. We were in this huge meeting room, shooting an office scene. So unlike being on set, and in the control room, we were basically on set, and b/c it was an office room we sat in these comfortable seats that i was falling asleep in. You can tell when someone doens't like something b/c in a polite way they are like"Well...that was good...but maybe we can try it more with a sense of..."
just imagine that being said about 15 more times, and you can get a visual of my face as i was sitting there.

I wanted to jump up out of my seat and do the parts for them it was bad. But once again i just bit back the laughter. After that was lunch, but i got to leave b/c...well my job was done.I spent the rest of the day doing an 6 page paper i should have started a week ago, and then Marie called.

Marie was in a car with Jeff, and they were discussing something that apparently was so important she had to call me and ask me what TWAT meant. I have no idea what that word means, or why i should care what it means, or why on a Saturday night we are discussing words used to describe women in a negative fashion. So for the next 20 minutes she is talking about TWAT and if i have any idea what it is. I don't know why she calls for stupid things. It's like when someone does the drunk dialing, except they weren't drunk they were just high on inquiry. Then she put me on the phone with him. Like a mom who puts there non speaking kid on the phone and expects you to hold a conversation with him/her.Me: hey, so what are you guys talking about
Jeff: Um...you know...there was a dirty word that Marie didn't know was a dirty word
Me: Yeah...well i don't know
Jeff: [Awkward silence]Me: {awkward silence]Jeff: we thought it was funny
Me: i guess so, but i don't know what the word means.
JEff: I guess not a lot of people know what Twat means, i guess only a few people use it
Me: [could this get any worse] I guess so...
Jeff: well here's Marie
Me: Bye
Jeff: Bye

Why does she do this to me?

So i don't make friends easily. Doesn't mean that i want to be apart of her friends. Sooner or later, i'm going to have to do this on my own. Find friends and things that interest me. Not being lead by the hand, or forced into relationships with people i have no connections with. When did it become so hard to make friends. Why can't the "do you want to play" still be the opening line to lasting relationship. Now if you say that you might get mauled by some freaking dude who looks like a pimp. How knows.

Take Me as I am

In all fairness to this seemingly horrible day, it wasn't that bad. Spanish, we are learning about indirect and direct object. I can barely making it through english in the grammar department yet alone Spanish. Then was Chemistry where instead of listening i drew a cartoon in my lecture book, i need to get a scanner, it was quite pretty. Then....Bio Lab. Things went by smoothly and we were out.

Well...Mike( i know, i know...but we are lab partners) wanted to get some food, we were going to the same area and decided to have lunch(well he ate) and then go to the bookstore. I think it's pretentious to always have these indepth about life, and yadda yadda yadda. We spend so much time, being consumed by the struggles of life, that we watch it pass us by as we are droning on about...I don't know politics.

It was like an episode of Geraldo or something. I was being grilled on what i thought of things. Somehow he got on the topic of Beliefs, and that belief is a fundamental concept that people have that gets them through life. This arose from a conversation of how much of our brain we actually used. I said about 5%, he said about 10%, and then i said that i didn't believe people could move things with their minds. I mean i belive in ghost, and the afterlife, and psychics to a point. But moving things with my mind, a little far fetch. Then he said that the reason that i couldn't move things with my mind is because i don't believe that i can. WHAT?.

I can't move things with my mind, it's impossible for me Beckett Amelia Hughes to move something with my mind, whether i believed it or not. I can't do. Point blank.

Belief: an accepted opinion, think, that act of believing.

i didn't know how much i hated that word(which i will probably use a bunch of times in this entry) until that whole stupid conversation came up. I believe in faith, that people possess faith in themselves that carry them through sitauation they didn't BELIVE they could overcome. To me belief arises from doubt. So doubt is what drives people. And doubt is what we overcome, not belief in which we accept. Confusing i know

This got him questioning my opinion on the subject because i am not religous.

Me: what does that have to do with anything
Mike: well you are an atheist.
Me: I'm not an atheist...
Mike: Well an agnostic
Me: i don't even think i'm that. I'm just living dude. I'm going to be a good person regardless if i have a religon.

Apparently i can't have faith, because i don't have a religion. I have complete faith in myself and the people i love, thats all i need to get me through this crazy place.
Mike: But agnostic can't have faith
Me: whatever, i just don't choose to live by a religion. This is who i am, take me as i am, faults and all or not at all. Thats all i need for my life

I mean i know he's an idiot, but a idiot who then calls me an "ignorant" person, because i said that we have it a lot better then most people, and i'm not going to get all "I'm emo and depressed because some stupid girl broke up with me".

Mike has a crush. A love, as he calls, drones on about, it. Her name is Christie and he wrote his English paper about her. Now though i talk about my crush for Art Boy in the journal, i don't discuss it with Mike. Or anybody for that matter of fact. I was once watching a show on Mtv and this was girl was talking about her crush and she said that when she has a crush on someone it is like this small delicate thing, that you want to cherish and keep all to yourself so it can't be damage. Well thats how i think, and thats why i don't talk about it. He talks about it like its the only thing he lives for. He came to class with scratches on his arm, saying that he was upset about a girl and cut himself.

So when i mention that we have it good here and that there are so many things worse off then we could ever imagine and sometimes the things we pine about so trivial in the face of the horror that people live through elsewhere. He called me ignorant, because America has it's problems to, and that i don't see that.

I am far from ignorant. And thus in my next expletives of ranting and raving told him:

WARNING: The following statements contain curse words, and the other grim aspect of life. Kiddies stop reading. Adults enjoy.

Me: Don't you dare call me ignorant. I grew up in fucking New York. I have seen things be bad and then become worse. I have seen death and desperation, i have been faced with loss , i have been a victim and a survivor. You want to talk about the homeless, drive in the neighborhood i was born in and you will see some fucking homeless people. My mom has been robbed twice, my brother and i picked up bullet shells in my dads neighborhood as a pasttime. I don't live in a fucking bubble, i don't have a porsche or an IPod. I come from hardship and have somehow survived. I know peoplewho will be in jail for a long time, i have known people who have been murdered, hooked on drugs, died from AIDS. I know how bad things are here, so don't say i'm ignorant just because i don't choose to talk these things. Just because it doesn't fucking define who i am doesn't mean i don't feel the effects from it. so the last person you should be calling ignorant is me. The last person.

Mike: [speechless]

I was very proud of myself.

I wasn't going to let that comment slide by. Especially by someone who is a douche. Someone who is going to home to his big house, and nice car, and all that other crap. Now i'm not saying that materalistic things make people happy, mainly because i don't have anything, but i don't walk about talking about my car and how rich and i, but then later talk about how this girl made me cut my wrist.

My mom didn't by us presents to show us love, she made us to go the park and play baseball, and read books, paint, and draw, and examine the stars. Other people make me sad, but sometimes i am completely content. And it's because i know how to enjoy those things, unlike him...who whins about him not having anyone to hang out with on the weekend, but that he has a 100 friends he knows by name and would trust with his life. Mike is a joke, to himself and the world. He hides behind critizing other people for self validation. It's because he has no idea who he is...he is one big facade, and underneath you would find a small boy asking to be loved, searching for it in all the wrong places.

So then we got on the subject of his crush. Christie. The girl i think he cut his wrist for. The girl he wrote his english paper for. So yesterday, the professor mentioned that some concepts of our papers were...blah. It's a natural things for people to want to write about love, because for some reason at this stage of our lives we feel we have a grasp on it. That it will be like the movies, roses, and sunny, and birds chirping. i don't know what love is, other than that from family and friends, so i kind of refraim from talking about it in papers. I have been in like with someone, and even with Art boy, it is just like, love seems to be such a huge thing that i don't know if i could put it in words. Apparently someone wrote a paper that was about how much he/she loved their boy/girl friend and made it seem like love was this easy simple thing.

Professor: i'm sorry to tell all of you,but love isn't that black and white. It takes so much to maintain love, it's hard work and it's not like the movies. It's real.

So when Mike told me he wrote about his crush, and using "such greeat heights" by postal service for his reader response essay, i smiled inside because i knew professor must have thought it was stupid and contrite. Though i love postal service, that is probably the last song i would have picked. He says Love makes me him feel good, like he can conquer the world. He likes being in love b/c of that. People are in love with the concept of love, and though it is nice, it's nerve racking.(which is why i posted Inara George "fools in love" below). I don't want to have these preconcieved notions of what love is. I want to be completely open and unbiased towards it, so when it happens, i will be ready to just accpet whomevers love i choose to be with. Not this biased idea of it being like the movies, life and love isn't like that.

Which sucks because am a complete romantic, and i hate that about me. That i am unrealistic about love, but i know enough about it that though it's lovely, it takes work. Maybe thats what makes it beautiful. Those small things about it, that don't happen every day, but when they do happen, you realize why you love it so much. Like brushing the hair out of my face, their laughter that brings smiles to our face, and other such quirks.

Lately i have been having embarassing dreams of a boy who isn't art boy. He's some kid in my Bio Lab who sings me Jimmy Buffet songs, when we have an off time in that class. Maybe because he unthreatening and harmless, i keep having this dreams of us dating, its weird cause i don't feel anything for him. So needless to say, i can't even look him in the eyes when we are talkinng because i'm like "in my dream we were totally making out".

I had about three with him in it. and the one i remember the most is were are like owners of this art gallery, and there are some men downstairs who are trying to sell us a fake picasso or something. About 5 of us own this gallery so while the three of them deal with these men who are trying to rip us off, Justin asks me to go up stairs with him(apparently we live in the art gallery also), so we are sitting on his bed and i ask him whats up, he pulls out this box and in it are all these cards, and scraps os paper. He pulls out a few cards and reminds me about the night that we played cards at his house and that i beat him with this hand(of cards) and that ever since he has kept these cards and other small things of mine in this box, because he's completely in love with me. So much that he can't think of anything else, then he starts listing all these things about me that he completely loves. My heart is racing, and i feel like i'm going to faint. Then i start crying, because he says that these little things about me make me more beautiful everyday and that he doens't think he could ever forgive himself if he never told me that he loved me. And then, bam he kisses me. like this is the last day on earth or something. I woke up, out of breath it was so intense....So after that. I tell him i don't kow what to do, that i think this means we are dating now or something. But that we need to talk more after we get these three men out of the store. When we head downstairs we hear a struggle going on. This men were not dealers, but are trying to take our prized picture. As i head to see what is going on, one of the guys corners me and you hear Justin yell my name from the other side of the room, and then i wake up.

So needless to say when i saw him today, him being all jubilant and his ever friendly self, i was like
Me:[eyes to floor] Hey justin.
I was kind of embarassed.

I mean i don't think the dream is about Me and Justin at all. I think it's more about accepting the things people accept about me,and then i will be open to relationships. I am a little hard on myself, and i kind of forget that i am this...interesting person. This is me....all of it....crazy...and sad, sometimes funny, quiet, delicate but not broken person...and until i fully appreciate that i can't really expect anyone to see that in me. Though why it had to be Justin, is up for debate.

Tomorrow i have to be on set at 8 in the morning. Not looking forward to that. Hope they know i am not staying that long. I've got sleep to do. Well...not...to dream about....Justin...just because this week was rough, and i'm tired

Blah....Romance...Yuck

Fools In Love
Inara George lyrics

Fools in love, well are there any other kind of lovers?
Fools in love, is there any other kind of pain?

Everything you do, everywhere you go now
Everything you touch, everything you feel
Everything you see, everything you know now
Everything you do, you do it for your lady
Love your lady, love your lady
Love your lady, love...

Fools in love, are there any creatures more pathetic?
Fools in love, never knowing when they've lost the game

Everything you do, everywhere you go now
Everything you touch, everything you feel
Everything you see, everything you know now
Everything you do, you do it for your lady
Love your lady, love your lady Love your lady, love...

Fools in love they think they're heroes
'Cause they get to feel no pain
I say fools in love are zeros I should know, I should know
Because this fool's in love again

Fools in love, gently hold each others hands forever
Fools in love, gently tear each other limb from limb
Everything you do, everywhere you go now Everything you touch, everything you feel Everything you do, even your rock 'n' roll now
Nothing mean a thing except you and your lady
Love your lady, love your lady
Love your lady, love...

Fools in love they think they're heroes
'Cause they get to feel no pain I say fools in love are zeros
I should know, I should know
Because this fool's in love again

Valuable junk

My dad called yesterday....AGAIN!!! though this doesn't seem like much to the average being human, to my family it HUGE. When my dad usually calls it's out of the blue, we talk for like 45 minutes, boxing...laughing most of the time, and the we know that he won't call for another 2 months.

But yesterday while i was studying for the chemistry exam(which killed me today i must say) i got a call on the cell from my dad.

I was shocked, 2 times in a row, it's like a record or something. My dad is sort of a lives in his own little 70's inspired world. His like a philosopher, a very eccentric philiosopher. But yesterday he asked me dad questions. Like if i was doing okay, and sudying hard, and eating the good food, and to be careful.

What?

Is that the same dad? Maybe the death of grandma is letting him know that he has to step up. I told my mom and she was as shocked as i was. It was weird. I mean i'm so use to be the strong, nonweilding one, making sure everyone is okay in the family, that it was weird for him asking me if i was okay. Like i thought it was my job to ask him that. I think fathers play a big role in our development. Like the make us feel safe and whole, and without them in our lives there is always this guard and hole in us. Its like i don't know how to be taken care of...i don't know how to just let someone take care of me, cause i'm so use to doing it myself. I can people can change.

Due to my uber tiredness, i have decided this blog will be "who is Beckett". I had to write that english essay, and i used the song by sia that i somehow interpreted as a song about accepting yourself cause when you don't that is when you get lost.

so here's to accepting my quirks, because sometimes i loath them

Beckett Amelia Hughes
1) I was born March 1, 1986. I was suppose to be born on my moms birthday, but she and the doctors said i came out when i felt like it
2) deathly afraid of Icebergs.
3) i love paintings by Edward Hopper
4) When i was younger i joined a church because i had a crush on the preacher
5) I am a plain eater. I like hamburger w/out cheese, i only eat cheese pizza, and the people at Subway know my order by heart: White Bread,Turkey, American Cheese, Lettuce, Tomato, Oil and Vinegar and Extra Mal. (it's really embarassing when there are a bunch of people in line though. I'm not a Subway addict or anything)
6) i wear the same checkered shoes everyday
7) i hum when i eat
8) i eat skittles from grossiest to yummiest(yummies being red)
9) My first kiss was by a boy name Jason, who i liked because he reminded me of the green power ranger(i was like 8)
10) admire Che(though he was communist and hung with Fidel)
11) Broke Marie's finger once by throwing a basketball, and missing the hoop horribly
12) Am very clumsy and have bumped into more doors, tripped on more sidewalks then humaningly possible.
13) in the 5th grade i convinced my friends i was a Vampire Slayer(damn you Buffy)
14) got detention for a week for stuffing tennis balls down my shirt in the 4th grade(my mom doesn't even know that)
15) have had Scarlet Fever twice in my lifetime, and almost died from it when i was younger.
16) in the 6th grade i was convinced that the Pet Store was feeding the aminals dangerous chemicals, so i pretended like i was from Australia(accent and all) and was investigating the store(my mom won't let that one down.)
17) in kindergarten i called 911 and told them about a boy i didn't like and if the could go arrest him
18)For the past 2 years i have dressed up a Tinkerbell for Halloween.
19) i use to have extremely long hair, but have opted for a shorter hair cut since.
20) in 5 years i see myself: In medschool, in Philadelphia, in an apartment, with a cat or a dog...oh with a volvo.
21) i've never been in a fight but i have been in verbal arguments( and once i was that kid who yelled "FIGHT" during an someone else's fight)
22) i have reading glasses that i hate to wear
23) have fallen asleep in a bathtub, while studying math(i read in a book that if you study in the bathtub it would somehow make you concentrate more, it didn't)
24) loved the movie grease.
25) When i was 7 i threatened my brother and cousin(who was babysitting) that i would run away, i packed my sleeping bag and headed around the corner. After being bored out in the backyard, i tried to get back in but they locked me out.
26) i have a small, birth mark on my belly.
27) i'm addicted to chapstick
28) I was almost skipped up a grade
29) I put quaters in other people's meters
30) I feed the pigeons outside my window.

Goodnight.

Hospitals

My brother was in the hospital yesterday.

My mom called me on the phone and left a message. My room has the most horrible reception ever, so all i heard was "...In....hospital....Morgan....got..." and then blank, i was so nervous that instead of pressing the button that saves that message i deleted it. My mom didn't sound too upset from what i could make out on the phone, but my imagination went haywired.

Got What, did Morg get shot (i know, i know but i didn't know what to think), get ran over, pass out, fall down the stairs....Then i was mad that my mom would leave a message like that on the phone but not pick up when i try to call her. So i'm pacing the room, and need something to get my mind off of that until she calls....so i go to the book sale and buy 4 books. Damn. By the time i get back to my room, my mom calls. Morg is okay...he just has...i can't say. It's too embarassing. Way embarassing. Lets just say he's a little constipated.

I laughed my ass off, as my mom tells me about my brothers frantic call on her cell, saying that he can't go to the bathroom. I laughed out of relief, and out of the fact that my brother has been to the hospital more time than any human should.

Morgan(it's his middle name, but we've been calling him that since i remember)..is not clumsy, he is just naturally getting himself hurt. He was hit by a car when he was 8, he jumped out of this massive rope tower at the park and had a concussion, he was bit by a dog,and then we were all in a car accident when we first moved here.

I've been there when all those accidents happened except the dog and the constipation. So naturally the hospital to me is like my second home. Some people hate hospitals, who wants to be in a place with sick and possibly dying people. But someone i see hope, when i usually end of walking the halls. That people can be made better, that life can be restored there. When Morg got hit by a car, i rode in the ambulance with him. I sat in the front with the driver...who i guess to amuse a 6 year old, asked me questions. I guess he didn't know that i was a pretty talkative 6 year old, who wanted to know all about his job, and talked about being a doctor when i got older.

When Morg fell off the thing in the park,(i was 12 then) i hung out with the doctor in the catscan room. Once again talking about my non existenting medical careeer. The took to me as i to them.

When we first moved here i was around 14, maybe. We were headed to our new house when we were Hit in the side. Going into a pretty steep ditch. The airbag smacked me in the face pretty badly, but Morg got hurt the worst. My mom, had to get small stitches on her face, Morg had a chipped tooth and a big gas under his lip that had to get sewed up. I think i have a pretty rational personality sometimes because my mom does not handle pressure well. So i have to, so she doesn't completely break down.

The air bag, was so powerful that it literally punched me in the face, and while my brother and i looked like they were in a car accident, i looked like i had just gotten in a brawl with some people. We each had to get examined to make sure we were okay to leave.

Doctor: Are you feeling okay
Me: I'd feel better if you let me go to the bathroom.

He laughed, i guess thinking that i had to "go" but i really wanted to see what my face looked like. I thought it looked hot, i was always told that i had a pretty face, I've been called dool by every old man in the universe, and when i was really into acting people recommended that i do print work, of course with my bruised face, i took it as a badge of my toughness and struted through the place like i had owned it.

Something about that place, makes me heart beat hard...like it's where i'm suppose to be. I'm always reminded how hard people fight for survival in that place, and i guess that hows life is.I'd like to think i was a fighter. My brother sure as hell is.

So back to Morgan. And my mom and his adventure in the hospital. This summer i am going to be "volunteering" at the hospital. It's not really being a CandyStriper, but it sort of is. So when my mom went there yesterday for Morg, she meet his doctor, who she can only say "Beck, i almost boned him yesterday". My mother...a one for words isn't she.

So... no my mom did not shack up with the doctor, but she said he was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. You should have heard her, she was pawning about him like she was a school girl.

Mom: Beckett, i am not playing he was so gorgeous like he stepped out of a GQ magazine or something.
Beck: Who
Mom: Morg's doctor. Morg told me his was big, so i was thinking he was a fat doctor, but when he stepped in to meet me, i almost passed out
Beck: why?
Mom: he was so FINE. I mean he was big alright, like 6'2, black hair, those cute little glasses you always talk about, and built like a great GOD.
Beck: he was Greek
Mom: I don't know, but my knees was buckling he was so fine.
Beck: he can't be that fine?
Mom: he was that fine.
Beck: God, why wasn't i there....Do you think i will see him this summer?
Mom: I hope so, you should have seen him, all of a sudden he leaned against the wall, with his hands folded....
Beck: Clearly a hot manuever....go ahead
Mom: and in my mind, i was like "are you trying to taunt me, i will jump over there right now..."
Beck: Mom, thats gross, i don't need a visual.
Mom: and then he was like, in his sexy deep voice "if ever need to get in touch with me, if you have any questions or concerns, i work at the free clinic on Wednesday, just give me a call".
Beck: Damn, even that was hot
Mom: So i was like, in my head "i can call you anytime, tonight"
Beck: I don't think thats what he meant mom
Mom: i know...but you should have seen him
[and then she like does a girl scream so loud, i pull the phone back]

Lets just say, i am more than happy that i am going to be working at the hospital this summer.

Damn, my chemistry test is tomorrow. I should be studying, but once procrastination has won. I spent 2 hours in the library, because when i'm in my room, i...well write in my journal, watch tv, and listen to music.

I turned in my essay for English class, can't wait to get that grade back, i may have half-assed it. I am just so nervous about getting this chemistry down. Mike...oh Mike...didn't even bring it to class. The professor totally hates him, she said that she won't take his excuse for missing class, though if it were someone else she probably would. She stares at him as if he is an idiot, and asks him question all the time in class, secretely hoping he would get it wrong. We are learning about Deconstruction today, and we listened to Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton and are trying to find the hidden meaning the song. I was trying to hold my eyes up.

When she starts the class, she mentions what happened last week

Professor: So if you weren't her last Tuesday, we had a pretty good class. Crazy Chick in the corner made cheesecake and then we shared some pretty personal things with our reader response. I say it was a pretty good class, and we learned a lot of interesting things.[of course she didn't say crazy chick, but i would have said it]

I stare at her like...were we in the same class.

Clearly Crazy Chick put some crazy juice in the cheesecake.

Pins...How i hate thee

So as i figured my night out on the town with my old friend Marie and her new friends was a horrifying train wreck if i do say so myself.

Like most things i was trying to find a way out of going with all my might.
"maybe i can say i got sick"
"i have to write an important paper i haven't even started"
"i saved children from a burning building and am too tired to go out."

After seeing how stupid all of those excuses were, i gave in and just decided to go ahead with the whole stupid thing.

At 7, Marie showed up, i brought along my Scene It game, just incase things got so boring i had to whip it out. Me and Marie by ourselves are good friends, yes we annoy each other to the point of no return sometimes, but all in all i respect her, and i guess thats what friends do. We were going over to her friends Jeff's dorm too play Scene It, and wait for Dani(a girl) to come over so we could head to the all night bowling thing.

Jeff seemed like a nice kid, though so nice that you felt bad for him. He kept asking if i was thirsty, if i was cold, if i needed a belt(b/c for some reason my pants don't seem to want to stay up). After saying that i was fine, we decided that to waste time we would play Scene It.

I am the champion at Scene It, a movie trivia game, it has a DVD and everything, but unless you play it with people who like movies, it's a waste of time. As i was crushing them in the game, i soon notice that i was the only one screaming at the top of my lungs about my skills in the board games, and after defeating them in less than 30 minutes we decided to play volleyball frisbee.

It is just as it sounds. A volleyball game, but using a frisbee instead of a ball. It was like 8 by then, dark, and we headed to the net and sand. As a kid my mom said me and my brother hated the sand. Everytime i touched it with my bare feet i would cry, so i kind of winced at having to play in the sand and even more when they took of their shoes.

Though i never played volleyball frisbee, i had amazing skills in that too. Now Dani hadn't shown up yet, though Jeff kept asking when she would (he has a crush on her, more on that later). As soon as Marie got the call that Dani had arrived at the dorm, i slowly became the 4th wheel. Dani, like Jeff is uber nice. And though it was nice to be around normal people for a change, i saw how extremely boring it was. We played frisbee for like the next hour. The Rock-a-Bowl didn't start till 11, it was only 9:15.

To prevent myself from not falling asleep, i suggested we go get some coffee. The bowling alley was 45minutes away, so at least that would make time go faster. Dani went in the car with Jeff, watching the two of them chase after each other(literally) and slap each other on the butt. was not cool. Before the coffee idea we were planning on going back up to his room and playing another round of Scene it, but when we got to his room his roommates were there so we vetoed that idea. We roamed the hall looking for another TV, the whole time we were doing that the three of them were poking each other, smacking each other butts(all in a playful manner i guess), and talking about past things they have done. Though i wasn't into getting my butt smacked by some boy and girl i had just met, i knew that they had a bond that i did not, and i accepted it, daydreaming about various things while they were dong that.

So we made our way into town, i in the car with Marie. On the way she keep asking what i thought about them...the only word i could come up with was "there nice".

The ride there was better. I understand that this was my break home and she wanted to hang out, i don't understand why she wanted to do that with 2 other people yet alone in a bowling alley at night time. So we squezzed in what we have been doing since we last talked in that 45minute drive. I always wondered how Marie made friends, she's loud, brash, agrumentative, and a know-it-all, yet she somehow made friends with these seeemingly nice people. When we got to the Sandwhich place(which serves coffee) it was closed. We stood in the parking lot for too long deciding what we should do next. After talking about what we should do, we gave up and just decided to go to the bowling alley and sit around.

Once again i felt the uncomfortableness of the situation. Marie, Dani, and Jeff seemed to gravitate to each other, and i was left staring at the exit, then looking at my watch seeing that i had 3 more hours of this to go. We were standing around, and they started the poking again, and tickling each other. Jeff looked at me as if he was about to tickle me, but i guess my "dude i just met you face" told him i wasn't into that.

So Dani and Jeff have known each other a little longer than Marie and Dani have known each other, which is about a year. That is how Marie meet Jeff, through his association with Dani. Jeff has a major crush on her, which is more evident than...well it was pretty obvious. He asked her out a while back, but she said no. I could tell he liked her even before i meet her b/c of his face when she called the first time, and mentioned that she may not be able to make it. He was willing to drive one hour to her house to get her. Though Dani doesn't like him like that, i guess she is just a flirt. Marie says that she likes boys until they start showing an interest back and then she doesn't like them anymore. Whatever it was, it was weird. The whole night, they were sitting close and touching each others knees and once again smacking butts.

When 11 o'clock came i was more than happy to get this show on the road. We had picked out fake names before the game started. Marie and I are planning to go to Mexico for our start of Med and Vet school. No...NOT CANCUN. I want to see the ruins and she wants to go to the coast. As my spanish teacher says, Cancun is not seeing Mexico. She knows a boy names Vladmir whose family owns a farm in Mexico, and he is willing to go with us. Of course going out, we need fake names, because we don't want any one checking us up in the phone book becase they meet us in Mexico or any other place. So my bowling name, and "hey this person is creepy give them a fake name" alias is Celeste(marie made it up, it sounds like moleste to me) and her fake name is Elyse( i made it up for her). We gave Dani the name Kanga because of her shoes, and Uber nice Jeff was Gangsta Pimp. I should have used Mama Bling as my fake name, but i forgot. We went by these names the rest of the night.

I'm not a bowler, the last time i went bowling was about 10 years ago. I was an avid bowler when i was a kid, i was on a team and everything. I was MVP and was awarded a bowling ball. But i haven't bowled since and i wasn't looking forward to it.

I sucked, more than anything else. Gutterball after Gutterball was what i bowled. Then to make me feel better they suggested we bowl one frame the old granny way, and even then it was gutterball. eventually i got some pins but i must say my highest game was like a 60. I know...horrible. It was so boring. The three of them were smacking anf poking and i was dosing. We decided to put 5 dollars in the juke box, so that our songs would be played most of the night. I guess because i sucked so bad, they let me pick out the songs. Oh Yeah!!!!

I picked Bruce Springsteen, Zeppelin, Coldplay, Queen....i was like a Dj or something, and as it blared through the place i felt like dancing. Not that i did, but when Stairway to heaven came on, with the strobe light and darkness of the place, i felt like running in the middle of the lane and doing and Heather Graham(in the video American Woman) dance in the lanes. I mean i felt like i was just going to run out there and just...DANCE. I must been born in another decade, but Then Peter Frampton came on and i almost broke out in dance again. I love Rock.

I was isolated throughout the night, and to amuse myself i watched other bowlers. We were sitting next to what seemed like a group of little, bowling men. They were barely 5'2, which made me feel good but bowled as if there life depended on it. They kissed the ball, before letting it roll into the lane as if there wasn't a care in the world. I notice that there are different kind of bowlers.

Those who bowl as if it is a profession, who take it as seriuosly as anything. There eyes are glued to the lane, as if it is some metaphor for life. They come in with there own bag, ball, and gloves.

Part-time bowlers: Bowling seems to be an escape for them, maybe kids are driving them crazy, maybe work is stressful, but something about a ball rolling down a lane is relaxing and soothing.

The drunks. Funny to watch, spend most their day there, smoking, laughing it up.

And there everyone else, just trying to pass the time along. Well and then there was me, arms crossed, not really knowing what to do. They must have notice that i wasn't having a good time. They kept asking if i was okay, i kept saying yeah. I wasn't. I hate bowling. To give a visual of what it may looked like.

I walk to the line, real slow. Kind of dragging. I swing the ball back, for some reason kick my leg up, the ball bounces unto the lane, seeming to be going right down the center of the lane, but hallway down the aisle it takes a sharp left or right and gutter. Then i creep back, sliding in my shoes, hands folded again until it is my turn.

The last song i choose was Malibu by Hole. I don't like Courtney Love and i think Kurt Cobain was a quitter but something about the song, always makes me sad. My dad called right before i left and i was more than excited, and that song reminded me of him. So i had to take a breather and go outside.Marie followed me and said she was sorry for bringing me when she knows that i hate bowling.

Me: it's okay really, i had a fun time picking out the tunes
Marie: so what do you think of them
Me: he's really nice, and she's nice too
Marie: Just nice huh
Me: i mean i'm so use to....the craziness, i don't know how i feel about it being so normal.

I mean if Marie wanted us to have a good time, and get to know each other, we should have rented a movie, ordered pizza and went back to her place. Though i'm not going to be best friends with her new friends a better social situation for this already awkwardness would have been to not take us to a place where the music is so loud we are screaming just to hear each other. Something a little more relaxed would have been better. I expected to be the third wheel, but man i didn't expect to want to throw myself on the lanes for the complete boredom that took place.

Once 2 am came around, i almost ran out of there. We said our goodbyes and Marie drove me home.

And then i stayed up for the next two hours trying to figure out Requiem for A dream(damn you Jared Leto).

Marie called me today and said that Dani and Jeff felt bad for my not having a great time. I did have a great time, picking the sweet tunes that were played in the bowling alley.

I'm telling you i was 5 minutes away from doing a Napoleon Dynamite-isque performance in between the lanes.

Would've been more interetsing if you ask me.

It's a new Dawn...It's a New Day

Early morning post.

I absolutely love the mornings. I love the image of life emerging, of things waking up, of the millions of people making coffee this morning. Of pajamas and morning news. Especially of oatmeal, and my occassional glance of the cartoon network, while i am munching.

I've never been a night person, which i thought i would eventually grow out of, but needless to say, when i'm sleeping, i will make sure everyone knows, and then respectively wherever i am, make a comfortable spot for me to sleep on. Car, airport, school bus after a speech competition, and maybe on the person sitting next to me. It's lie between 12:30 and 2:00 my eyes are basically closing, i am struggling to hold myself up, and such. If i can make it past two without passing out than i have insomnia and can't sleep.

But the mornings they are different. I am totally a morning person. I wake up as if i have been in hibernation for years, and i take in all my surroundings like a new born baby. My room has the best view in the house, and of course when i looked outside, i wanted to go running.

I use to be a runner. Yes, so i'm not that athletically devoid of skill. I mean i didn't run for a team, but i was called Speedy in school but the Gym Teacher, up until the 8th grade or so when we moved. It's something about running, that seems to clear your mind. So at 7:00 this morning i crept out of my room, and had a jog around the neighborhood. Though i can't really run in these hospital scrubs my mom bought me as pj's but just being out there, tripping and freezing, was enough to clear my head.

I thought of Heather. I thought of my dad. I thought of my mom and my brother. I thought of my new cousin and hoping that she would like me (she's like 6 months old). I thought of the future, and of the present. I thought of Nicholas.

I do set up these high standards in my mind of people. I mean almost impossible standards that i know they cannot fulfill, and i don't even expect them too. I do it with everyone, new or old that i have meet. But for me it's just another protective mechanism for me not getting to close to people. So really it's just detrimental on my part, because i trying to protect myself from the realities of relationships that i set up these unrealistic expectations of them.

I liked to believe in my mind that everyone i love doesn't have these faults, and that all the world is beautiful and that life is WONDERFUL. but by experience i know they aren't b/c i have put complete faith in people, without those high expectations that always seem to come up short, and i always seem to be left crushed. So i set up those barriers, those "he will be lovely and nice", "She will be the greatest friend ever" though i know people aren't like that.

My "ex" best friend from New Rochelle totally left me in the dry when i was having a hard time last year when i had to leave School and come back home, she didn't care and she wasn't there emotionally to comfort me, she had moved on. I don't even want to talk about Nicholas. My head will have to process that whole relationship another time.

I always had that fear of being left behind. Like i wouldn't have dealt with the whole "home Alone" situation as well as the kid in that movie. I mean sure crooks and the craziness that ensued i could handle, but the fact that i was left out of a vacation with the people i kind of cared about would irk me. I don't like being trapped in a situation from prevents me from being a part of something i like. But i'm trapping myself kind of. And maybe little by little these barriers have to be stripped down (or sweating in my case, i'm still running here), and i will emerge from this like a new Dawn, like a new day.

You know that point in running, where you feel like you can't run anymore. Her heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest, your legs hurt like crazy, and your house which is just a couple of houses down seems like miles. By this time i was about to collapse, but i at least waited to i hit my lawn, to complete collapse on the ground of course as a school bus of peering children come by. The embarassment never stops i tell you.

Staring up at the sky, i heard the song in my head, Nina Simone "Feeling Good"(DAMN you Six Feet Under)

And this old world is a new world
And a bold world
For me

Stars when you shine you know how I feel
Scent of the pine you know how I feel
Oh freedom is mine
And I know how I feel

It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good

And i couldn't help but smile...i love the morning. By then though the little faces in the bus were totally laughing at me(seeing that bus stop is right on the corner), and i retreated in to my house.

Now for totally unrelated news. I hate getting my hair done.

Though my mom LOVES to put me through the torture of putting curls and other frilly things in my hair, so "you look like the beautiful girl you are Beckett". Yadda yadda yadda, after surprising me early in the morning with her..."do you want to go out , Beck" and me agreeing,we went to get my hair done, so " going out" meant going to a place where the do you hair but students of the hair school do it. So i was their guinea pig.

I love how that trick still works. At 19, i thought i wouldn't still fall for the "lets go to the park routine". So sitting in the car, i'm like "this isn't the way to the park".
MOM:Well i thought it would be fun if you got your hair down before we go to the park
I was fooled again. She's a tricky one that mom. As i'm sitting in their waiting for the doom of getting my hair down, my mom tries to reassure me....unsuccessfully

Mom: we have to support them in their dream Beckett, one day you will have to do the same thing. Don't you have to practice on people before you can become a doctor
Me: Dead people, mom. If i mess up on them, they won't care.
Mom: oh come on, you are being irrationalm how can they mess up on a simple wash and shampoo.
Me: [glaring at her]

So i don't complete faith in people touching my hair. Everyone i have been to says they have the perfect look for me

Hairdressers of the past
#1: We can give you a little flippy thing
#2: oh a curl would look so beautiful
#3: You have amazing hair, i can but like a little french braid with the...
#4: One word: BIG

No, No, and More No.

When i try to tell them i like it to look like i just woke up, and kind of messy...they do the "srcunch nose up face" and give me the style they want. I even brought in a picture of Selma Blaire when she had short hair, and somehow i came out looking like a bride on her Wedding day, wearing a Ramones T-shirt and Chuch Taylors. Ridiculous.

Needless to say, i did not trust my hair in the hands of a student of Hair.Everyone's so smitten by the color of my hair, i am like a lab rat. My hair is technically black/brown but for some reason in the sun, it becomes this auburn color, like i head radiating from the sun. I hate that my hair does that b/c people are always touching it.

She did an okay job, though as soon as i got outside, i ruffled my hair, shaking out any possible curls that may have been. But it was all the things she said to me in their that blew my mind. She was a 20 year old girl, who was overly nice and constantly asking me how i was feeling. As she is washing my hair, she's asking "how old are you" i tell her. "You go to college". I tell her. "What's you major". I tell her. And then out of the blue

Hairdresser: So do you have a baby and a husband.

I almost drowned myself with the water. But instead i just did the awkward laugh and said

Beckett: NO, NO, NO...i'm just a student

So yes most of the girls from my high school has already gotten married and started a family. Which there is nothing wrong with that. But that is not in my near future. From watching my mom, i can see that starting a family is a selfless act, you have to completely be invested in the kids and your spouse, and you can't have a selfish bone in you body, because it isn't about you anymore. I still want to be a little selfish, and all i could do was laugh. Me Married? I don't think so. Not unless his name is Gael Garcia Bernal, then i would make an exception. =)

So then after that, she kept asking me about being a doctor, like i was one already. Word got round like there was a possible doctor in the wing, and i was treated like gold. I hate having to tell people i'm a pre-med student. Not because i'm embarassed but because people do the whole "treat me like i sleep on silk sheets act"(i've slept on silk sheets, i nearly slide off, funniest sight.), so after being crowded by 5 girls asking me "doctor" question i was happy when they were done and i was out of their.

I have to get some school work done. I still haven't finished my essay. Damn you English ...complete writers block when writing reader response to a song.

SPAM NO MORE!!!

Damn you spam.

You won one over on me.

This abuse i have taken from you for so long is no more.

I bid farwell to thee and your tasteless advertisment.

Hello Spam Blocker.

I'm really tired.

I've bought the Six Feet under Soundtrack, instead of listening to my favorite song(from the album) on the internet. So like the old days in my house, i will fall asleep with my extremely big headphones on, to this amazing album.

Now off to dream land . Sorry for the extremely short post, and even more putting up the Spam Blocker.

Tomorrow or Saturday i get the awkward experience of hanging out with my old friend and her new two best friends. I think she does this on purpose so i will be the odd one out.

Good Night

Fools In Love

So i am home, Which is why this post is being written late at night, instead of my ususal after class blog time.

I was exicted about going home today. And once again may have skipped out of Chemistry class with a smile on my face. I'm excited about the arrival of my mother and brother until they actually show up. Like from a far we are a great functioning family, but together we are a complete mess.

As soon as she called saying they were 5 minutes from the University, and to meet them outside, i grew dreadful of their arrival. As i waited out there the image of my mom pulling up, my brother jumping out of the car and dashing to greet me with a hug. We would be in an embrace for a while, and like a happy little family drive back home. Not the case.

My dorm is located right in front of a small loading, unloading parking lot for students. There are only five parking spaces. So as my mom drives into the parking lot, instead of parking in the spots. She parks the car right in the middle of this small lot, preventing any cars from entering or exiting. She jumps out of the car and runs toward me, but not to give me a hug, but to ask me to show her where the nearest bathroom is, my brother is refusing to get out of the car because she left the keys in the ignition. I am trying to become invisible in this moment as people pass by, the whole time i was praying Art boy would not walk by and see the craziness called the Hughes.

After the initial awkwardness,and my mom finding a bathroom, they bring my stuff to the car and we head home.

Returning home, is like returning to the past you a) want to return to b) want to escape. I love being home, but being in this small town is nerve racking. I always hated watching those talk shows where the girl comes on talking about how much she was a geek in high school, and now she is hot and stuff and wants to flaunt it to her tormentors, b/c i always figured they were liars. Underneath all the "I'M HOT NOW AND I WANT YOU TO SEE HOW HOT I AM, AND KNOW THAT I AM OVER WHAT YOU DID TO ME" is really the same scared, weird, hurt girl in highschool with this need to be acknowledge. Needless to say i am still the fragile, outcast girl from highschool and i don't make a deal of acting like i have somehow changed into this "NEW, BETTER, Beckett". I'm pretty much the same, they just don't see me every weekday in class.

It is weird seeing old highschool people in stores. Like if they weren't my friend in high school should i be obligated to say hi to them when i see them in a store. My answer is usually no. Unless your name is Peter.

Peter works in the grocery store. The grocery store 5 minutes from my house. The one my mom shops in everyday. EVERYDAY. Did i mention i once had a crush on Peter. Last January, my mom told me that a boy who worked at the Supermarket said he knew me, and that he wanted to sya hi. Of course i berated her on who it was, and when she mentioned Peter i was a little excited.

He plays the cello, i play the violin. He plays the guitar and had for a while this wild mane of hair that i was in love with. In high school, i always kind of thought he was cute, and we talked and i guess enjoyed each other company. But i notice with the boys i like(i don't do this anymore), i completely act like i dislike them(damn maybe i still do). In the 11th grade(most depressing high school experience) i completeley withdrew from any impending chemistry between us. He keep asking around if he had down something to make me stop talking to him. It was numerous reasons, but i just opted for saying "i'm just having a bad year". He even offered to but me the Goonies DVD, to make me feel better. It didn't. But during the last couple of weeks of that year, we returned to our friendship/slightly crushing thing.

In 12th grade, he went to a school for the arts, for his cello playing. And i didn't see him anymore. Which is why when my mom mentioned that he wanted to say hey, i was more then willing to go to the Supermarket any chance that i could get. Though i barley say two words to him. I can't seem to think of any words to say to him when i see him. I draw a blank, and though he has that eager look like he wants to have a conversation with me, i usually just tell my mom i am going to wait in the parking lot.

It's easy to have a crush on someone when you aren't reminded of what crazy things irks you about him. Like i keep remembering that in high school he was just so...shady, and not someone i could rely on. But with me being away at college, and not having to be reminded of that all day, i kind of had this idea of him being Perfect. That he was "lovely".

But today was different. Me walking into the supermarket, my heart for once not beating, my eyes not glancing around for him, i felt like everything had changed. We go to the cash register, and though Peter was not the cashier we went to he came up to talk to me.

Peter: Hey
Me: Hey, how are you
Peter: Good, what you up too
Me: Nothing

And then i mention a few things i am planning to do when i get home, sleep, sleep, and more sleep.Okay so it wasn't an extremely deep chit chat, but it didn't even need to be a chit chat. I don't have a crush on him, maybe i never did, maybe it was just easier to like someone far away than deal with liking someone who lives in my dorm per chance. And though i am not going on a talk show to talk about how much i have changed, and to prove it to someone who degraded me, or someone who disappointed me in high school, i am a little changed. So i'm still awkward, and clumsy, and yes i still hum when i eat, and my down days are killer, but somehow emerging from all this is the stronger and more open me. i'm different in a way, in a way that made me leave the supermarket with pride, and not with a flushed face for once.

Plus my full attention is on Art boy. Though i haven't garnered the nerve to get beyond our grade school romance, i know that i like him enough that Peter is no more in my book.

It is strictly grade school what me and Art Boy are doing. Everyone remembers that first crush in school, where the boy completely acted weird around you in his strange way to say he liked you. Well this has moved up to College. Where we walked past each other, avoiding glares, that we almost bump into each other. We pass each other on the street, smile coyly as if we are holding a secret between the both of us. Sooner or later though we have to move up from this. Right now i have opprotunity to completely develope something with him, and in my fear i am letting him just slip away. though the fact that i make him nervous, is quite funny. He's like 6'1 and completely nervous around me.

It funny how awkward relationship are.

Well i am completly exhausted, and will try to write earlier tomorrow.